protecting all this time.
The service elevator doors slid open and Logan pressed Kat behind him. He peered into the hallway, looking for Sergei, or rogue gunmen. Maids and kitchen staff bustled toward two large sets of swinging doors.
“This way,” Logan said.
They followed a waiter and wove through the chaotic kitchen, then out through a delivery door.
Stepping into the bright winter sun behind the hotel, Logan’s tension eased a fraction as a familiar black SUV with its window slightly down screeched to a stop in front of them.
Kat pulled back, her glimpse of the driver’s stern visage and eye patch obviously scaring her.
“It’s okay. Rafe’s one of my best men.”
The certainty in his words niggled at Logan’s gut. He’d believed Daniel to be his closest friend and ally. Despite his trust, Logan had to keep his guard up.
He bundled Kat into the backseat and slid in beside her, his Glock on his lap. The darkened windows hid their identity, and he gave their surroundings a quick scan. Nothing tripped his alert wire. “Get us out of here fast, Rafe. Evasive maneuvers and keep your gun ready. I’m running red.”
Logan met Rafe’s intent gaze in the rearview mirror, but his right-hand man didn’t hesitate or question how badly Logan was wounded.
Rafe pulled out, constantly checking the special mirrors set up to accommodate the temporary patch over his left eye. “Where to?”
Kat grabbed the seat in front of her. “We have to go to—”
Logan interrupted her. “Just lose anyone following us for now. We can’t chance a tail.”
At the stricken look in her eyes, his own stress surged. “Soon, Kat. This is a precaution for their safety, too. It’ll just add a few minutes.” His heart pounded at the thought of what could happen in a few minutes. Then again, if he led the killers to Kat’s house, they’d all end up dead.
Logan’s cell phone rang. He checked the number, not surprised to see the king’s identification. Logan touched his earpiece. “I’m not bringing her to your hotel. I’ll get back to you when I’m sure she’s safe. By the way, if you’re missing a bodyguard, he broke his neck in the hotel stairwell.”
Logan ignored the tirade directed at him. “Yeah, well, your ‘faithful servant’ tried to kill Kat as we left. The background checks of your royal guards suck, Your Majesty. Think about that.”
Logan ended the call and tapped another line.
“Hunter here.”
Thank God. Logan couldn’t have asked for a better operative to shadow the king. Hunter was on leave from an organization that was so far out of reach even the CIA couldn’t pin them down. But his friend was based in Europe. He knew Bellevaux—and its politics.
“Keep the royal entourage in your sights. I need to know who’s communicating with whom. Someone leaked our location. Twice.”
His children’s existence could have already made its way to the wrong people. Just the thought and Logan’s stomach churned. If they’d been willing to burn Kat alive… He couldn’t let himself think of worse possibilities.
“You want to bring the rest of your team in?” Hunter asked.
“No,” Logan said. “Don’t call anyone until I know where the mole is. For now, it’s just you and Rafe.”
“Got it. Hunter out.”
Logan pocketed the cell, fighting the urge to call Kat’s house again. He could see her trembling beside him, her eyes wide and fearful, her knuckles whitened. Did she realize—as the SUV twisted and turned through downtown Houston getting lost among the traffic until they reached the third ward—that Rafe was bringing them nearer to her house all the time?
Logan had found her address while she’d been sedated. Would it scare her that he knew where she lived? If he found it, surely those searching for her had, too.
Unable to resist, he tugged her hand from her lap. “We’ll get there.” He stroked her soft skin. She heaved a shuddering breath and nodded, her fingers relaxing