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 slightly under his caress.
Rafe took another turn aiming toward the 601 loop. “No one is following us. Where to?” he asked, giving Kat a curious glance.
“Can I tell him?” she asked.
“Yeah, I trust him.”
“But you don’t trust all your men.” She said it more as a statement of fact than as a question. “You just said as much to the man on the phone.”
Logan hesitated, hoping she didn’t hear about Daniel anytime soon. No need to worry her more than she already was. “I do trust them, and I don’t think the leak is from my camp, but I’m not willing to take chances with our children’s lives.”
Logan met Rafe’s shocked gaze in the rearview mirror for a half second, but that’s all it took for the man to understand how much the stakes had changed.
Imperceptibly, the SUV sped up and headed in the right direction.
“The address?” Rafe asked again.
“Pasadena,” Kat said quietly. She gave the location in a Houston suburb. They crossed south through some tough neighborhoods. Logan looked around, feeling his tension rise as he took in the sights. His kids were living in this area? Maybe in houses like these? Neighborhoods like these?
Places where walking to the grocery store could become a lesson in danger.
While he had a sprawling ranch, with dogs and horses and acres of land, and he lived the loneliest life a man ever had. All because Kat never told him he was a father.
Never gave him the chance to offer his kids something different.
Never gave him a chance to be something different …
Kat kept looking at him, waiting for him to speak and suddenly Logan didn’t trust himself to say a word. If he opened his mouth he’d tear into her for the grief and betrayal she’d bubbled to the surface.
Women left men. They even left kids. He knew that.
Hell, it seemed to be a Carmichael family tradition to be walked out on.
He turned away from Kat, and a sharp pain sliced through his right shoulder. He hissed in a breath as the cloth rubbed across the bullet wound. Logan could feel it starting to bleed again. At least the dark leather would hide most of the blood.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m great.” Logan rubbed the back of his neck and shifted again so Kat wouldn’t see the bullet tear just above his shoulder blade. The wound wasn’t bad, and he welcomed the pain. Better the one in his body than the one ripping through his heart.
“Logan—” she began.
“Don’t, Kat. Not yet.” He didn’t know what to feel except that he had two kids out there who could be in danger and their mother had lied to him for three years. It’s not like he’d kept his identity a secret. He’d told her about his ranch. She could have found him any time she wanted. Lived like the princess she apparently was in real life.
Kat straightened up when Rafe turned the car into an older neighborhood. The homes were well kept, though outdated, but his babies deserved better than this.
Logan’s temper flared as he readied his Glock. Stupid blood loss was making him crazy, that was the problem. It was time to shape up and concentrate on the situation at hand. Volatile emotions weren’t helping now. He had to remain cool, calm and rational.
The SUV pulled up to a small, wood-sided house.
Kat clutched at the door handle but Logan gripped the latch to keep her from opening it. “I’ll go in first and make sure it’s clear.” He turned to Rafe. “Go around back and check things out.”
“Got it.” Rafe hopped from the vehicle.
Kat glared at Logan. “I’m going in. They’re my kids.”
“Get this straight, princess.” He bit the words, holding a tight rein on his temper. “Those are my kids, too, and we’re going to have one helluva talk about that once everyone’s out and safe.”
Kat’s face paled, but Logan ignored it. Okay, so he’d blown cool and calm. Maybe he still stood a chance with rational.
He slipped out of the vehicle and took another deep breath. He had to maintain control, but dread churned in his gut. The house was dark and ominously still, with no sign that two active toddlers lived there. He didn’t want to look at Kat right now. How could he forgive himself—or her—if something had happened to the twins?
He scanned the area, and when Rafe gave Logan a thumbs-up, indicating that the back of the house was clear, Logan opened the car door. “You can get out now, but stay with me.”
She didn’t argue, just hurried across the yard.
Logan kept vigilant as they reached the door. “It won’t take long for the king to discover your address. He and his men are probably on their way.”
She tugged keys from her jeans pocket and Logan took them from her.
“I go in first,” he repeated as he unlocked the door. “I’ll check the house, then you’ll pack what the kids will need for a couple of days and go. Fast.”
He pushed the door open and stepped into the small hallway. His stomach roiled. A sparsely decorated Christmas tree lay on its side, the homemade ornaments broken and scattered across the scarred wooden floor.
“What’s the matter? Why are you stopping?” Kat shoved in beside him.
“Stay back.”
“Oh, no.” She clutched his arm. “Logan, where are my babies?”
He held her and she clawed at him, trying to get past.
“Be quiet. If they’re still here, they’ll hear you.”
Tears of terror filled her eyes. Logan flicked his earpiece, signaling Rafe. “We have trouble. I need you inside.”
In seconds, Rafe appeared behind them, his movements stealthy.
“Guard her,” Logan said. “Don’t let her follow me.”
Despite her protests, Rafe firmly took Kat’s arm. Logan turned away, his Glock ready. Slow and easy, he entered the