Believing he was alone and thinking only about what he needed, Logan’s heart almost shattered his chest wall at the sound of a voice that was not Blaze’s. Whirling, he saw Bernard in the doorway.
How stupid of me to leave the door unlocked! But how in hell did he find me?
That the ex-lover he faced was mentally unhinged was as evident to him now as it had been to Blaze. Despite the conversation in the museum when Logan told him their problem had nothing to do with Bernard being white instead of Native American, here he stood, smiling and dressed in Indian clothing. No doubt he’d purchased the poorly beaded headband, pants, shirt, and moccasins from a costume shop. He’d painted his face as a dancer might.
Logan grimaced. At least it’s not war paint! Thank the Spirits for that, Logan. Whe
