MISSION: HER PROTECTION

TEAM 52 #1

ANNA HACKETT

Mission: Her Protection

Published by Anna Hackett

Copyright 2018 by Anna Hackett

Cover by Melody Simmons of BookCoversCre8tive

Cover image by Wander Aguiar Photography

Edits by Tanya Saari

ISBN (ebook): 978-1-925539-56-1

ISBN (paperback): 978-1-925539-57-8

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or places is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

CONTENTS

What readers are saying about Anna’s action romances

Action Romance Box Set

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Preview: Mission - Her Rescue

Preview: Undiscovered

Also by Anna Hackett

About the Author

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ANNA’S ACTION ROMANCES

Unexplored – Romantic Book of the Year (Ruby) Novella Winner 2017

Unfathomed and Unmapped - Romantic Book of the Year (Ruby) finalists 2018

At Star’s End – One of Library Journal’s Best E-Original Romances for 2014

Return to Dark Earth – One of Library Journal’s Best E-Original Books for 2015 and two-time SFR Galaxy Awards winner

The Phoenix Adventures – SFR Galaxy Award Winner for Most Fun New Series and “Why Isn’t This a Movie?” Series

Beneath a Trojan Moon – SFR Galaxy Award Winner and RWAus Ella Award Winner

Hell Squad – SFR Galaxy Award for best Post-Apocalypse for Readers who don’t like Post-Apocalypse

The Anomaly Series – #1 Amazon Action Adventure Romance Bestseller

“Like Indiana Jones meets Star Wars. A treasure hunt with a steamy romance.” – SFF Dragon, review of Among Galactic Ruins

“Strap in, enjoy the heat of romance and the daring of this group of space travellers!” – Di, Top 500 Amazon Reviewer, review of At Star’s End

“High action and adventure surrounding an impossible treasure hunt kept me reading until late in the night.” – Jen, That’s What I’m Talking About, review of Beyond Galaxy’s Edge

“Action, danger, aliens, romance – yup, it’s another great book from Anna Hackett!” – Book Gannet Reviews, review of Hell Squad: Marcus

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CHAPTER ONE

It was a beautiful day—ten below zero, and ice as far as the eye could see.

Dr. Rowan Schafer tugged at the fur-lined hood of her arctic parka, and stared across the unforgiving landscape of Ellesmere Island, the northernmost island in Canada. The Arctic Circle lay about fifteen hundred miles to the south, and large portions of the island were covered with glaciers and ice.

Rowan breathed in the fresh, frigid air. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.

Hefting her small pickaxe, she stepped closer to the wall of glacial ice in front of her. The retreating Gilman Glacier was proving a fascinating location. Her multi-disciplinary team of hydrologists, glaciologists, geophysicists, botanists, and climate scientists were more than happy to brave the cold for the chance to carry out their varied research projects. She began to chip away at the ice once more, searching for any interesting samples.

“Rowan.”

She spun and saw one of the members of her team headed her way. Dr. Isabel Silva’s parka was red like the rest of the team’s, but she wore a woolen hat in a shocking shade of pink over her black hair. Originally from Brazil, Rowan knew the paleobotanist disliked the cold.

“What’s the latest, Isabel?” Rowan asked.

“The sled on the snowmobile is almost full of samples.” The woman waved her hand in the air, like she always did when she was talking. “You should have seen the moss and lichen samples I pulled. There were loads of them in area 3-41. I can’t wait to get started on the tests.” She shivered. “And be out of this blasted cold.”

Rowan suppressed a smile. Scientists. She had her own degrees in hydrology and biology, with a minor in paleontology that had shocked her very academic parents. But on this expedition, she was here as leader to keep her team of fourteen fed, clothed, and alive.

“Okay, well, you and Dr. Fournier can run the samples back to base, and then come back to collect me and Dr. Jensen.”

Isabel broke into a smile. “You know Lars has a crush on you.”

Dr. Lars Jensen was a brilliant, young geophysicist. And yes, Rowan hadn’t missed his not-so-subtle attempts to ask her out.

“I’m not here looking for dates.”

“But he’s kind of cute.” Isabel grinned and winked. “In a nerdy kind of way.”

Rowan’s mouth firmed. Lars was also several years younger than her and, while sweet, didn’t interest her in that way. Besides, she’d had enough of people trying to set her up. Her mother was always trying to push various appropriate men on Rowan—men with the right credentials, the right degrees, and the right tenured positions. Neither of her parents cared about love or passion; they just cared about how many dissertations and doctorates people collected. Their daughter included.

She dragged in a breath. That was why she’d applied for this expedition—for a chance to get away, a chance for some adventure. “Finish with the samples, Isabel, then—”

Shouts from farther down the glacier had both women spinning. The two other scientists, their red coats bright against the white ice, were waving their arms.

“Wonder what they’ve found?” Rowan started down the ice.

Isabel followed. “Probably the remains of a mammoth or a mastodon. The weirdest things turn these guys on.”

Careful not to move too fast on the slippery surface, Rowan and Isabel reached the men.

“Dr. Schafer, you have to see this.” Lars’ blue eyes were bright, his nose red from the cold.

She crouched beside Dr. Marc Fournier. “What have you got?”

The older hydrologist scratched carefully at the ice with his pickaxe. “I have no idea.” His voice lilted with his French accent.

Rowan studied the discovery. Suspended in the ice, the circular object was about the size of her palm. It was dull-gray in color, and just the edge of it was protruding through the ice, thanks to the warming temperatures that were causing the glacier to retreat.

She touched the end of it with her gloved hand. It was firm, but smooth. “It’s not wood, or plant life.”

“Maybe stone?” Marc tapped it gently with the axe and it made a metallic echo.

Rowan blinked. “It can’t be metal.”

“The ice here is about five thousand years old,” Lars breathed.

Rowan stood. “Let’s get it out.”

With her arms crossed, she watched the scientists carefully work the ice away from the object. She knew that several thousand years ago, the fjords of the Hazen Plateau were populated by the mysterious and not-well understood Pre-Dorset and Dorset cultures. They’d made their homes in the Arctic, hunted and used simple tools. The Dorset disappeared when the Thule—ancestors to the Inuit—arrived, much later. Even the Viking Norse had once had communities on Ellesmere and neighboring Greenland.

Most of those former settlements had been near the coast. Scanning the ice around them, she thought it unlikely that there would have been settlements up here. And certainly not settlements that worked metal. The early people who’d made their home on Ellesmere hunted sea mammals like seals or land mammals like caribou.

Still, she was a scientist, and she knew better than to make assumptions without first gathering all the facts. Her drill team, who were farther up on the ice, were extracting ice core samples. Their studies were showing that roughly five thousand years ago, temperatures here were warmer than they were today. That meant the ice and glaciers on the island would have retreated then as well, and perhaps people had made their homes farther north than previously thought.

Marc pulled the object free with careful movements. It was still coated in a thin layer of ice.

“Are those markings?” Isabel breathed.

They sure looked like it. Rowan studied the scratches carved into the surface of the object. They looked like they could be some sort of writing or glyphs, but if that was the case, they were like nothing she’d ever seen before.

Lars frowned. “I don’t know. They could just be natural scoring, or erosion grooves.”

Rowan pushed a few errant strands of her dark-red hair off her face. “Since none of us are archeologists, we’re going to need an expert to take a look at it.”

“It’s probably five thousand years old,” Isabel added. “If it is man-made, with writing on it, it’ll blow all accepted historical theories out of the water.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Rowan said calmly. “It needs to be examined first. It could be natural.”

“Or alien,” Lars added.

As one, they swiveled to look at the younger man.

He shrugged, his cheeks turning red. “Just saying. Odds are that we aren’t alone in this universe. If—”

“Enough.” Rowan straightened, knowing once Lars got started on a subject, it was hard to get him to stop. “Pack it up, get it back to base, and store it with the rest of the samples. I’ll make some calls.” It killed her to put it aside, but this mystery object wasn’t their top priority. They had frozen plant and seed samples, and ice samples, that they needed to get back to their research labs.

Every curious instinct inside Rowan was singing, wanting to solve the mystery. God, if she had discovered something that threw accepted ancient history theories out, her parents would be horrified. She’d always been interested in archeology, but her parents had almost had heart attacks when she’d told them. They’d quietly organized other opportunities for her, and before she knew it, she’d been studying hydrology and biology. She’d managed to sneak in her paleontology studies where she could.

Dr. Arthur Caswell and Dr. Kathleen Schafer expected nothing but perfection from their sole progeny. Even after their bloodless divorce, they’d still expected Rowan to do exactly as they wanted.

Rowan had long-ago realized that nothing she ever did would please her parents for long. She blew out a breath. It had taken a painful childhood spent trying to win their love and affection—and failing miserably—to realize that. They were just too absorbed in their own work and lives.

Pull up your big-girl panties, Rowan. She’d never been abused and had been given a great education. She had work she enjoyed, interesting colleagues, and a lot to be thankful for.

Rowan watched her team pack the last of their samples onto the sled. She glanced to the southern horizon, peering at the bank of clouds in the distance. Ellesmere didn’t get a lot of precipitation, which meant not a lot of snow, but plenty of ice. Still, it looked like bad weather was brewing and she wanted everyone safely back at camp.

“Okay, everyone, enough for today. Let’s head back to base for hot chocolate and coffee.”

Isabel rolled her eyes. “You and your chocolate.”

Rowan made no apologies for her addiction, or the fact that half her bag for the trip here had been filled with her stash of high-quality chocolate—milk, dark, powdered, and her prized couverture chocolate.

“I want a nip of something warmer,” Lars said.

No one complained about leaving. Working out on the ice was bitterly cold, even in September, with the last blush of summer behind them.

Rowan climbed on a snowmobile and quickly grabbed her hand-held radio. “Hazen Team Two, this is Hazen Team One. We are headed back to Hazen Base, confirm.”

A few seconds later, the radio crackled. “Acknowledged, Hazen One. We see the clouds, Rowan. We’re leaving the drill site now.”

Dr. Samuel Malu was as steady and dependable as the sunrise.

“See you there,” she answered.

Marc climbed onto the second snowmobile, Lars riding behind him. Rowan waited for Isabel to climb on before firing up the engine. They both pulled their goggles on.

It wasn’t a long trip back to base, and soon the camp appeared ahead. Seven large, temporary, polar domes made of high-tech, insulated materials were linked together by short, covered tunnels to make the multi-structure dome camp. The domes housed their living quarters, kitchen and rec room, labs, and one that held Rowan’s office, the communications room, and storage. The high-tech insulation made the domes easy to heat, and they were relatively easy to construct and move. The structures had been erected to last through the seven-month expedition.

The two snowmobiles roared close to the largest dome and pulled to a stop.

“Okay, all the samples and specimens to the labs,” Rowan directed, holding open the door that led inside. She watched as Lars carefully picked up a tray and headed inside. Isabel and Marc followed with more trays.

Rowan stepped inside and savored the heat that hit her. The small kitchen was on the far side of the rec room, and the center of the dome was crowded with tables, chairs, and sofas.

She unzipped and shrugged off her coat and hung it beside the other red jackets lined up by the door. Next, she stepped out of her big boots and slipped into the canvas shoes she wore inside.

A sudden commotion from the adjoining tunnel had Rowan frowning. What now?

A young woman burst from the tunnel. She was dressed in normal clothes, her blonde hair pulled up in a tight ponytail. Emily Wood, their intern, was a student from the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. She got to do all the not-so-glamorous jobs, like logging and labelling the samples, which meant the scientists could focus on their research.

“Rowan, you have to come now!”

“Emily? What’s wrong?” Concerned, Rowan gripped the woman’s shoulder. She was practically vibrating. “Are you hurt?”

Emily shook her head. “You have to come to Lab Dome 1.” She grabbed Rowan’s hand and dragged her into the tunnel. “It’s unbelievable.”

Rowan followed. “Tell me what—”

“No. You need to see it with your own eyes.”

Seconds later, they stepped into the lab dome. The temperature was pleasant and Rowan was already feeling hot. She needed to strip off her sweater before she started sweating. She spotted Isabel, and another botanist, Dr. Amara Taylor, staring at the main workbench.

“Okay, what’s the big issue?” Rowan stepped forward.

Emily tugged her closer. “Look!” She waved a hand with a flourish.

A number of various petri dishes and sample holders sat on the workbench. Emily had been cataloguing all the seeds and frozen plant life they’d pulled out of the glacier.

“These are some of the samples we collected on our first day here.” She pointed at the end of the workbench. “Some I completely thawed and had stored for Dr. Taylor to start analyzing.”

Amara lifted her dark eyes to Rowan. The botanist was a little older than Rowan, with dark-brown skin, and long, dark hair swept up in a bun. “These plants are five thousand years old.”

Rowan frowned and leaned forward. Then she gasped. “Oh my God.”

The plants were sprouting new, green shoots.

“They’ve come back to life.” Emily’s voice was breathless.

THE CLINK of silverware and excited conversations filled the rec dome. Rowan stabbed at a clump of meat in her stew, eyeing it with a grimace. She loved food, but hated the stuff that accompanied them on expeditions. She grabbed her mug—sweet, rich hot chocolate. She’d made it from her stash with the perfect amount of cocoa. The best hot chocolate needed no less than sixty percent cocoa but no more than eighty.

Across from her, Lars and Isabel weren’t even looking at their food or drink.

“Five thousand years old!” Isabel shook her head, her dark hair falling past her shoulders. “Those plants are millennia old, and they’ve come back to life.”

“Amazing,” Lars said. “A few years back, a team working south of here on the Teardrop Glacier at Sverdrup Pass brought moss back to life…but it was only four hundred years old.”

Isabel and Lars high-fived each other.

Rowan ate some more of her stew. “Russian scientists regenerated seeds found in a squirrel burrow in the Siberian permafrost.”

“Pfft,” Lars said. “Ours is still cooler.”

“They got the plant to flower and it was fertile,” Rowan continued, mildly. “The seeds were thirty-two thousand years old.”

Isabel pulled a face and Lars looked disappointed.

“And I think they are working on reviving forty-thousand-year-old nematode worms now.”

Her team members both pouted.

Rowan smiled and shook her head. “But five-thousand-year-old plant life is nothing to sneeze at, and the Russian flowers required a lot of human intervention to coax them back to life.”

Lars perked up. “All we did was thaw and water ours.”

Rowan kept eating, listening to the flow of conversation. The others were wondering what other ancient plant life they might find in the glacial ice.

“What if we find a frozen mammoth?” Lars suggested.

“No, a frozen glacier man,” Isabel said.

“Like the Ötzi man,” Rowan said. “He was over five thousand years old, and found in the Alps. On the border between Italy and Austria.”

Amara arrived, setting her tray down. “Glaciers are retreating all over the planet. I had a colleague who uncovered several Roman artifacts from a glacier in the Swiss Alps.”

Isabel sat back in her chair. “Maybe we’ll find the fountain of youth? Maybe something in these plants we’re uncovering could defy aging, or cure cancer.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow and smothered a smile. She was as excited as the others about the regeneration of the plants. But her mind turned to the now-forgotten mystery object they’d plucked from the ice. She’d taken some photos of it and its markings. She was itching to take a look at them again.

“I’m going to take another look at the metal object we found,” Lars said, stuffing some stew in his mouth.

“Going to check for any messages from aliens?” Isabel teased.

Lars screwed up his nose, then he glanced at Rowan. “Want to join me?”

She was so tempted, but she had a bunch of work piled on her desk. Most important being the supply lists for their next supply drop. She’d send her photos off to an archeologist friend at Harvard, and then spend the rest of her evening banging through her To-Do list.

“I can’t tonight. Duty calls.” She pushed her chair back and lifted her tray. “I’m going to eat dessert in my office and do some work.”

“You mean eat that delicious chocolate of yours that you guard like a hawk,” Isabel said.

Rowan smiled. “I promise to make something yummy tomorrow.”

“Your brownies,” Lars said.

“Chocolate-covered pralines,” Isabel said, almost on top of Lars.

Rowan shook her head. Her chocolate creations were gaining a reputation. “I’ll surprise you. If anyone needs me, you know where to find me.”

“Bye, Rowan.”

“Catch you later.”

She set the tray on the side table and scraped off her plates. They had a roster for cooking and cleaning duty, and thankfully it wasn’t her night. She ignored the dried-out looking chocolate chip cookies, anticipating the block of milk chocolate in her desk drawer. Yep, she had a weakness for chocolate in any form. Chocolate was the most important food group.

As she headed through the tunnels to the smaller dome that housed her office, she listened to the wind howling outside. It sounded like the storm had arrived. She sent up a silent thanks that her entire team was safe and sound in the camp. Since she was the expedition leader, she got her own office, rather than having to share space with the other scientists in the labs.

In her cramped office, she flicked on her lamp and sat down behind her desk. She opened the drawer, pulled out her chocolate, smelled it, and snapped off a piece. She put it in her mouth and savored the flavor.

The best chocolate was a sensory experience. From how it looked—no cloudy old chocolate, please—to how it smelled and tasted. Right now, she enjoyed the intense flavors on her tongue and the smooth, velvety feel. Her mother had never let her have chocolate or other “unhealthy” foods growing up. Rowan had been forced to sneak her chocolate. She remembered her childhood friend, the intense boy from next door who’d always snuck her candy bars when she’d been outside hiding from her parents.

Shaking her head, Rowan reached over and plugged in her portable speaker. Soon she had some blood-pumping rock music filling her space. She smiled, nodding her head to the beat. Her love of rock-and-roll was another thing she’d kept well-hidden from her parents as a teenager. Her mother loved Bach, and her father preferred silence. Rowan had hidden all her albums growing up, and snuck out to concerts while pretending to be on study dates.

Opening her laptop, she scanned her email. Her stomach clenched. Nothing from her parents. She shook her head. Her mother had emailed once…to ask again when Rowan would be finished with her ill-advised jaunt to the Arctic. Her father hadn’t even bothered to check she’d arrived safely.

Old news, Rowan. Shaking off old heartache, she uploaded the photos she’d taken to her computer. She took a second to study the photos of her mystery object again.

“What are you?” she murmured.

The carvings on the object could be natural scratches. She zoomed in. It really looked like some sort of writing to her, but if the object was over five thousand years old, then it wasn’t likely. She knew the Pre-Dorset and Dorset peoples had been known to carve soapstone and driftwood, but this artifact would have been at the early point of Pre-Dorset history. Hell, it predated cuneiform—the earliest form of writing—which was barely getting going in Sumer when this thing had ended up in the ice.

She searched on her computer and pulled up some images of Sumerian cuneiform. She set the images side by side and studied them, tapped a finger idly against her lip. Some similarities…maybe. She flicked to the next image, chin in hand. She wanted to run a few tests on the object, see exactly what it was made of.

Not your project, Rowan. Instead, she attached the pictures to an email to send to her archeologist friend.

God, she hoped her parents never discovered she was here, pondering ancient markings on an unidentified object. They’d be horrified. Rowan pinched the bridge of her nose. She was a grown woman of thirty-two. Why did she still feel this driving need for her parents’ approval?

With a sigh, she rubbed a fist over her chest, then clicked send on the email. Wishing her family was normal was a lost cause. She’d learned that long ago, hiding out in her treehouse with the boy from next door—who’d had a bad homelife as well.

She sank back in her chair and eyed the pile of paperwork on her desk. Right, work to do. This was the reason she was in the middle of the Arctic.

Rowan lost herself in her tasks. She took notes, updated inventory sheets, and approved requests.

A vague, unsettling noise echoed through the tunnel. Her music was still pumping, and she lifted her head and frowned, straining to hear.

She turned off her music and stiffened. Were those screams?

She bolted upright. The screams got louder, interspersed with the crash of furniture and breaking glass.

CHAPTER TWO

Jesus, she hoped one of the domes hadn’t given way. Rowan hurried out of her office and into the tunnel. In the first week of the expedition, one dome hadn’t been secured properly, and it had partially caved in during their first storm. It had made a mess, blowing crap everywhere, not to mention scaring the hell out of them.

She ran into the rec dome and found it empty. The shouts and screams were coming from the labs. As Rowan jogged into another tunnel, another noise drowned out the screams.

This sound made her freeze in her tracks.

The wild roar didn’t sound human. It sounded like a wild beast on the hunt.

What the fuck? She sprinted forward, almost tripping over her own feet. She stumbled into the first lab.

It was empty and eerily quiet.

And completely trashed.

The workbenches had been tipped over, glassware and lab equipment lay smashed on the floor. She stared at the tiny green plants, that had survived millennia, only to be crushed under running feet.

“Hello?” she called out.

She heard another high-pitched scream. Was that Amara? This time, it came from down another tunnel that led toward the sleeping quarters.

Rowan shivered. The temperature had dropped and goose bumps broke out over her arms. She took a step and her foot bumped something.

She looked down. “Oh, God!”

Marc lay prone on the floor, blood dripping down his face. Huge slash wounds covered his chest and neck.

She knelt and pressed her fingers to his throat. It was then she realized he was freezing cold, his skin coated in a thin layer of ice.

He was dead.

Rowan sucked in a few quick breaths. What the hell was going on? Had a rabid polar bear gotten inside? She touched Marc’s face, and noticed his eyes were open. She sucked in another harsh breath. Both his eyes were milky white and covered in a cracked web of ice.

Something was seriously wrong.

A noise echoed in the nearest tunnel. She shot to her feet, staring ahead. Her heart was racing, pounding against her ribs. There was another sound, a scrape of something against the hard side of the dome.

Then slow, heavy footsteps.

Rowan didn’t stop to think. She needed to get away, she needed somewhere to hide.

She leaped over Marc’s body. Glass crunched under her feet and she winced. Where could she go? Her gaze swung frantically across the dome.

Those slow, menacing footsteps got closer. Rowan’s throat closed, and she then spied a small cabinet across the lab. She hurried over and ripped open the doors.

Two shelves were loaded with various boxes of equipment. She tore them from the shelves and tossed them on the ground. Next, she yanked out the top shelf and set it against the wall.

She tugged on the bottom shelf, but it wouldn’t budge. “Come on, come on.”

That inhuman roar came again, chilling her blood.

Rowan put her foot against the cabinet and yanked. The shelf came loose.

She almost lost her balance, but caught herself and tossed the shelf onto the floor. She launched herself into the tiny confines of the cabinet. With shaking hands, she pulled the doors closed. She couldn’t quite get the last one shut, so she left it slightly ajar. With a silent prayer, she hoped whatever it was that was tearing up the camp wouldn’t notice.

Rowan waited, her pulse pounding in her ears. As soon as she could, she needed to get back to her office. She had a pistol and several rifles locked up in there. She also needed to get a mayday call out and, once she was armed, go and help her people.

Now, the only sound she heard was her own racing heartbeat. It had to be a polar bear. But she didn’t think a bear had killed Marc. Even though his chest had been slashed, he was frozen.

A shadow moved on the other side of the lab and Rowan stopped breathing.

Holding her breath, she watched the shadow move across the lab. Then it resolved into a slim figure with a blonde ponytail. Rowan’s shoulders sagged. Emily.

Rowan was just about to push the cabinet doors open, when Emily spun, gasping.

“No,” Emily cried.

A blur of white. The thing moved so fast that Rowan couldn’t tell what it was. It launched itself at Emily.

There was a crash and Emily screamed. Rowan slammed open the doors and surged out. “Emily!”

There was a blur again, and the thing raced into a tunnel with Emily over its shoulder.

It was no polar bear. Whatever this thing was, it walked upright on two legs.

Chest heaving, Rowan searched for a weapon. She emptied out drawers, trying to stay calm and not let the sob in her chest break free.

“Dammit.” There was nothing useful in this lab. Her gaze fell on a broom leaning against the wall. She snatched it up and snapped the bristled end off. Hefting the wooden stick, she knew it wasn’t much, but until she reached her office, it would have to do.

Emily needed her.

Rowan moved as quietly as she could. She stepped into the tunnel leading to the second lab. The air in the base was frigid now, her breath causing tiny puffs in front of her. The lights were still on, so the power was still functioning, but she wasn’t sure what had happened to the heating system. Maybe the thing had torn a hole in one of the domes.

She reached the end of the tunnel and peered into the second lab. Benches were lined up in neat rows. Nothing moved. Where was Emily?

Then Rowan saw the bodies.

Her stomach rolled and she raced forward. No. Dr. Spencer, Dr. Chan, and Dr. Petrov all lay sprawled on the floor. Amara was hanging over an overturned stool.

They were all frozen. Rowan touched their skin, her hand shaking. Icy. God. She shuddered, filled with hot panic and welling rage. A layer of ice covered their hair. Amara’s shirt was torn open and Rowan could see the woman’s veins under her skin. They weren’t blue-green, they were blue-white, like her blood was frozen.

Rowan had to get to her office. She needed to make a mayday call and find a weapon.

She turned and strode out, the broom handle gripped high. She also needed to find Emily, Isabel, Lars, and the rest of her team.

Reaching her office dome, Rowan made her way to the comms room. She was shivering now, but she gritted her teeth against the cold. She inched inside the room, searching for any sign of movement.

Samuel Malu was slumped on the floor by the communications computer. Grief hit her like a tidal wave. The Nigerian scientist had been soft-spoken and smart, with a sense of humor she’d enjoyed. Rowan crouched and closed the man’s eyes. He too, was coated in ice, and the comms equipment was smashed. She prayed that the sweet, smart man had gotten a message out.

Whether help was coming or not, she was the expedition leader. She straightened. It was her team, and her responsibility to keep them safe.

She made it to her office and the storage locker on the far wall. She punched in the code on the pad. The doors opened, and Rowan quickly grabbed a pistol. She checked the Glock, loaded it with ammunition, then closed the locker door.

When she turned, she noted the base heating controls on a wall panel. The lights were all on and a steady green. The system was working. She shivered again. Clearly whatever had attacked them had caused a breach.

She left her office, moving stealthily along the wall. She needed to find Emily and the others.

Moments later, she arrived back in the rec dome. It was still empty, half eaten meals still sitting on the tables and a few chairs overturned. God, had it only been an hour ago that she’d sat here talking with her excited team? She noticed a small circle of something clear and gleaming in the center of one table. With a frown, she touched it. Cold. Water.

She looked up.

Her stomach revolted. “Oh, no. Emily.”

Her young friend hung, suspended from the ceiling of the dome, encased in a web of ice that held her in place. Her eyes were clouded over, her mouth open in a scream. One slender arm was held out and frozen in place, like she was fending someone—or something—off.

Rowan pressed a hand to her mouth, bile a bitter taste in her throat.

Emily was dead, too. God, was anyone else left alive, besides her?

Fear and grief made Rowan’s chest tight. She could barely draw a breath. The entire base was silent now, and a voice in her head murmured that it was likely her entire team was dead.

Fuck that. Rowan lifted her handgun. She strode down to the final dome—the living quarters.

She reached the door. The lights were flickering, and when she took a step forward, she saw the bodies lying on the beds.

Nausea punched through her. She saw Isabel and the rest of her team.

They were all dead.

Isabel. No! The woman had fought back against her attacker, and was lying near an overturned bunk. Her dark hair was stark against her icy skin.

Rowan took a shaky step backward and bumped into a chair. It teetered, before crashing to the floor.

The sound was so loud. She froze.

Then she heard that same animal roar reverberate through the domes.

Shit. Rowan turned and ran. She sprinted blindly through the tunnels and domes. Where to go? If she went out on the ice, she was as good as dead. If she stayed in here, she’d end up like the rest of her team.

Without conscious thought, Rowan ended up back in the first lab. She looked around frantically.

Then she heard heavy breathing and the scrape of something on the floor.

It was coming.

She scanned the dome and went very still, searching the room. Nothing. She couldn’t see whatever the hell it was.

A footstep. Another.

It was coming from the opposite tunnel.

Rowan aimed her pistol. Her hands shook wildly. But the instinct to hide was too strong. Swallowing a cry, her gaze fell on the cabinet she’d hid in earlier. She dived back into it, and pulled the doors shut. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely manage to close the damn doors.

This time, they closed all the way.

She gripped the pistol in front of her, her breaths shuddering in and out of her lungs.

Rowan couldn’t see anything, but suddenly, she felt the temperature drop another couple of degrees, and she heard the heavy footsteps outside her hiding place.

Whatever the thing was, it had just entered the lab.

LACHLAN HUNTER STRODE down the Las Vegas sidewalk. In the distance, the glow from the casinos lit up the sky, and he could almost feel the pulse of energy from the Strip.

But tonight, he had no desire for noise, light, or people. They’d just gotten back from a mission. He was pretty sure some of his team would hit the casinos and clubs to blow off some steam, but all Lachlan wanted was a decent steak, a beer, and some sleep.

Of course, he’d returned to an empty apartment, and an even emptier fridge. Okay, not an entirely empty fridge. There had been something moldy growing on the top shelf.

Anyway, the lack of beer, combined with the science experiment, had forced him out of his apartment and toward the local corner store to grab a six-pack. He’d order a pizza later, and get groceries delivered tomorrow. Preferably after eight solid hours of sleep.

Female voices made him lift his head. Two women—both dolled up in short, sparkly dresses—were heading toward him on the sidewalk. No doubt bound for one of the clubs. He watched their gazes sharpen and run over him. He saw one lick her lips and smile.

“Hey there,” the lip-licker called out. “We’re headed to the casinos for a good time. How about you join us?”

“Not tonight,” Lachlan replied. “Have a good evening.”

The other woman grabbed his arm. “You sure?”

He met their gazes. “I’m sure.”

As they looked him in the eyes, their smiles faded. One shivered, and the one touching him stepped back.

“Ah…okay.” The lip-licker was now biting her lip.

They skirted around him, heels clicking on the sidewalk as they scurried away.

A faint smile tipped his lips. He was used to the reaction. Women either avoided him, or the wilder, bolder ones threw themselves at him. Blair, his pain-in-the-ass best friend and his second-in-command, had once told him, “Lachlan, you’ve got a hell of a body and a rugged, handsome face designed to make a woman weep…until she looks at your golden eyes. Tiger eyes. Flat, scary, and predatory.”

Of course, Blair wasn’t scared of him. She and the rest of his team got a few good laughs over the way people froze and took a step back in his presence. Lachlan didn’t give a shit. He’d been intense as a kid, too, and only one neighborhood friend hadn’t been afraid of him. The memory of a sassy little redhead with sad blue eyes sprang into his head. Hell, she’d been ten and he’d been thirteen when he’d moved away.

When his dad had put a gun in his mouth and ended his life.

Lachlan shook off the past. He knew there were far worse things out there than him, and he was more than happy to wade through the scum in order to protect his country.

He’d seen the shitty underbelly of life. Crawled facefirst through the muck and mire of war, having seen and dealt with things he never wanted to think about, ever again. He flexed his right hand. His entire right arm was a high-tech prosthetic, and when he was off-duty and back in Vegas, he kept it out of sight under a Henley and a thin, skin-colored glove. He opened his titanium fingers, hidden under the glove. Yep, he’d gotten up close and personal with the worst of the worst.

And he’d keep doing it, to ensure that women could dress up in pretty dresses and have fun, so families could sleep safely in their beds at night, and his mom could enjoy her happy retirement in Florida.

He’d done it as a Marine, and now as leader of the covert, black ops group known as Team 52.

Reaching the glass doors to the store, he stepped inside. He came in enough that he was a regular. The tense atmosphere hit him in the face instantly.

In a split second, he took in the situation—the stressed, terrified young man behind the register, and the man in front of the counter with his back to Lachlan. The man appeared tense and jumpy, and was shouting. He was also waving around a Smith & Wesson 9mm. A man and woman were cowering in the aisle near the fridges.

“Hey, Ricky,” Lachlan called out, striding toward the beer fridge. “How’s it hanging?”

Ricky, who was tall but hadn’t yet filled out, looked at Lachlan with wide eyes. “Uh…hey, Lachlan.”

“Just needed some beer.” Lachlan grabbed a six-pack of Coronas.

He nodded at the couple, and gave them a discreet wave to move back. Then he turned, strolled to the front of the store and set the beer on the counter.

“How much?” he asked.

“Are you stupid?” the man beside him screamed.

The guy stank and was clearly high. His clothes were stained with sweat and food.

“Nope,” Lachlan said.

“This is a robbery!”

Lachlan raised a brow. “No, it’s not. This is you choosing to do the wrong thing, at the wrong time, in the wrong place.” Lachlan lowered his tone. “It is not your day, friend.”

“I’m not your friend!”

Lachlan just stared at the man.

As Lachlan’s look clearly penetrated, fear skittered over the man’s face. Then the addict dredged up some bravado, spluttering as he swung the gun toward Lachlan.

Lachlan moved fast. He slammed his hand to the back of the man’s head. The man’s face smashed into the counter.

When he came up, his nose was broken and blood dripped down his face. He howled.

Ignoring him, Lachlan grabbed the gun, and thrust the side of his prosthetic palm into the man’s throat.

Gagging, the man dropped to his knees, clawing at his neck.

Lachlan looked at Ricky, who was standing there, his mouth hanging open.

“Duct tape?”

“Huh?” Ricky blinked.

“You got any duct tape?”

“Uh…yeah.” The young man fished around in a drawer, then handed a roll of silver tape to Lachlan.

With quick, practiced moves, Lachlan taped the would-be robber’s wrists and ankles together. He was sobbing now.

“Call the cops, Ricky,” Lachlan ordered.

The kid nodded jerkily and turned to the phone.

Lachlan glanced at the couple. “You guys okay?”

They both nodded, creeping forward, their gazes darting between Lachlan and the sobbing robber.

“We’re okay thanks to you,” the man said.

Lachlan lifted his chin, then glanced back at Ricky. “How much do I owe you for the beer?”

“Nothing, man. Wow, you were like—” he made a motion with his hand “—I dunno, Batman or something.”

Lachlan tried not to wince. If Blair ever heard that, she’d bust her gut laughing. “Minus the dumb mask.”

“You were so cool, dude,” Ricky breathed.

A vibration in his pocket. Lachlan pulled out his sleek, black phone. It looked like a normal cellphone but was actually satellite-equipped, plus had a few hidden extras as well. “Hunter.”

“Hey, where are you?” Blair’s throaty voice came through the line.

“Getting beer.”

“I’m at your place. We just got called in. I was close, so I volunteered to pick you up.”

Lachlan frowned. “We just got back.”

“Apparently, emergencies don’t wait for us to take time off,” Blair said dryly. “And this mission is priority.”

Shit. It was serious, then. Dreams of a quiet night and a few beers disappeared in a puff of smoke. There was a flash of blue-and-red lights outside and Lachlan saw the police cruiser pull up.

“Okay, let me deal with the police, and I’ll be back in ten.”

“Police?”

“Someone decided to rob my local convenience store.”

There was an amused snort. “They still breathing?”

“Yes, but not through his broken nose.” Lachlan shot the man a glare and he shrunk back.

“Stupid bastard,” Blair said. “The X8 is fueled and waiting for us.”

“Acknowledged. Where are we headed?” Lachlan would get a full briefing on their high-speed jet-helicopter, but he liked to be prepared.

“Northern Canada.”

Brr. “See you in ten.”

He closed the phone and watched the police officers step inside. Ricky rushed over, and launched into an excitable account of what had happened. The older officer looked at the sobbing robber, then to Lachlan.

“Military?”

“Former,” Lachlan answered. What he did now was classified.

“Special forces?”

He nodded.

“SEAL?” the officer asked.

“Marine Force Reconnaissance.” Most people lost interest after that. While they’d often heard of the exploits of Navy SEALs, Force Recon was less well known. Which was just how they liked it.

The officer’s eyes widened. “Force Recon.” Clearly, he’d heard of the Force Reconnaissance teams. “Well, thanks for not killing him.”

Lachlan quickly gave his statement, his mind already turning to his upcoming mission.

Someone out there needed him and his team. He flexed his gloved hand. It was time for Lachlan to do what he did best.

CHAPTER THREE

The experimental, jet-powered X8 helicopter came in low over the Gilman Glacier.

Lachlan pressed one hand to the doorway leaning into the cockpit, watching Seth and Blair in the pilot seats, bringing them closer to the Hazen Research Base.

The X8 not only had coaxial dual rotors, it had a wide body with jet engines, giving the aircraft the best elements of both helicopter and plane. It possessed more than double the speed of most helicopters and had an increased range. They’d had to do a mid-air refuel en route, but they were now coming in on their target.

Ahead, Lachlan took in the stunning view of the ice glinting in the morning sun through the X8’s wide windshield.

“Who the hell would want to come out here?” Seth said. “On purpose.”

Seth Lynch, a former CIA agent from the Agency’s Special Activities Division, sounded bored. Lachlan knew the man well and knew that wasn’t the case. Tall, dark, and lean, Seth was very good at letting people only see what he wanted them to see. Lachlan had given up trying to work out how many languages Seth spoke or how many accents he could mimic.

Seth wasn’t bored. Far from it.

“Apparently, a team of scientists from universities all around the world,” Lachlan answered. “To study glacial ice.”

Seth looked back over his shoulder and raised a dark eyebrow. He was wearing his all-white, cold-weather gear, his hands moving easily over the X8’s controls. One side of his face was smooth skin, while the other side was covered in a mass of scars.

“Sounds like they ended up with more than ice.”

“Yeah,” the blonde woman beside Seth said. “They had an unwelcome visitor.”

Blair Mason’s blonde ponytail swung behind her. Lachlan’s best friend and second-in-command was also former Marine Force Recon.

She was tough and competent as hell, and had fought beside Lachlan for years. He’d saved her life a time or two, and Blair had more than returned the favor. The woman was an expert in close-quarter combat, and fought mean. There was nothing the woman loved more than tossing bad guys on their asses, usually after she toyed with them for a bit first.

“Yeah.” The frantic transmission he’d listened to had been playing over and over in Lachlan’s head. A man identifying himself as Dr. Samuel Malu had called in a distress call requesting help. The transmission had ended on a terrified scream, and the sound of…something else.

Lachlan spotted the outlines of the domes in the distance. He turned to the rest of his team. In the back of the aircraft, Smith Creed, Axel Diaz, and Callie Kimura all sat, bodies relaxed and also clad in white cold-weather gear. Big, burly Smith, a former Navy SEAL, was cleaning his rifle. Former Air Force Pararescueman Callie—the Team 52 medic—was sorting out her medical backpack. Axel looked like he was asleep, but Lachlan knew the former Delta Force soldier could be awake and move fast when required.

“Okay, listen up. We’re nearly at the camp.” His team all looked up. “Something appears to have attacked these scientists, but we have no idea what. There should be nothing out here but ice. We’ve tried to establish contact with the base, but there’s been no response.”

“You think someone attacked them?” Axel’s voice was a smooth drawl.

“I don’t know.” Lachlan never speculated. He planned for all the contingencies he could think of, but he waited for the facts.

“And why has our little outfit been called in for this mission?” Blair called back from the cockpit.

“Team 52 was activated based on a comment by Dr. Malu, and an email sent earlier by the expedition leader, a Dr. Schafer.” Lachlan looked at them all. “Malu was rambling and afraid, but he mentioned some unusual object they’d found in the ice. An object that was perhaps made of metal, and with possible strange carvings on it.”

Smith leaned forward. Born and raised in the Colorado mountains, with his brawn and beard, he looked like a mountain man. The former Navy SEAL knew more about weapons than anyone Lachlan had worked with. He was also a hell of a tracker. “How old’s the ice on this glacier?”

“Five thousand years old.”

Smith blinked. “Well, I take it we’re here to find out what happened and procure the object.”

“You guessed right.” Lachlan looked back out the window and studied the connected domes rising up off the ice. He could see one large dome was damaged, like a giant had punched its way out. “We’re here. Let’s get ready to go. Be prepared for anything.”

Lachlan checked his high-tech CXM7 integrated assault rifle. The experimental weapon had an integrated grenade launcher and combat shotgun, as well as assisted targeting. He watched his team ready themselves. All of them were professionals, from all branches of the armed forces. Like him, their traditional military careers had ended for various reasons—he flexed his prosthetic hand—but because of their skills, they’d been offered an opportunity with Team 52.

His covert team was tasked with collecting and safeguarding artifacts and objects deemed highly dangerous or classified. Artifacts that no one wanted falling into the wrong hands.

Lachlan might still feel the odd pang of loss for his Force Recon days, but working with this motley crew, and the strange assignments they took on, had proved rewarding. They did good work. Important work.

“Landing now,” Blair said.

Seth and Blair set the X8 down close to the camp. Lachlan slid the side door open and leaped out first. He scanned the surroundings, then waved the others to follow. Moments later, his team fanned out beside him.

Apart from the several flags fluttering on the nearby flagpoles, there was no sound.

“Spooky,” Seth murmured, his pale-blue eyes alight.

“Stay sharp.” Lachlan moved forward. “Let’s clear the place and look for survivors.”

They all nodded. Lachlan moved forward and as he reached the entrance to the first dome, he lifted his weapon.

It was cold inside. They moved quickly to clear the first dome.

“What the fuck?” Seth moved forward, staring at the macabre scene.

Lachlan’s mouth firmed. A woman hung from the roof, frozen in a web of ice, her face etched in fear. What the hell had happened here?

“Let’s clear the rest of the domes, then we’ll cut her down and bag her.”

Lifting his rifle again, he waved two fingers at Smith, Axel, and Callie. The trio split off. Seth and Blair fell in behind him. They methodically moved through the domes.

They found more bodies in the labs and sleeping quarters. Lachlan studied the icy-white eyes, and the coating of ice covering the scientists’ skin and clothes. Several had wild slashes on their chests.

Blair knelt beside a young woman with dark hair. “She froze to death.”

Lachlan rubbed his prosthetic thumb against his rifle. “Yeah.”

Blair leaned closer. “This isn’t from exposure, Lachlan. It’s cold in here, but not that cold. See their eyes? And their veins? Frozen solid. I’ve never seen anything like it. Whatever happened, it happened quickly.”

Seth frowned, his gaze scanning the room around them. “Flash frozen?”

Blair stood. “Something like that.”

Lachlan stared at the bodies. “We’ll bag the bodies and take them with us. Ty will want to examine them.”

Axel and the others appeared. “These are going to make the doc bitch and moan.” Axel’s thick brown hair fell over his dark eyes.

Dr. Ty Sampson was Team 52’s lead genius. The big man was a former Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, or DARPA, scientist, once responsible for developing emerging technologies for the military. Now he did it for Team 52 and he was grumpy as hell, especially when he had a mystery to solve.

“Let’s clear the last two domes.” Lachlan moved forward. “Blair, you and Seth start bagging the bodies. Check to see if we’re missing anyone.”

His second nodded and waved at Seth. “You’re with me, Lynch.”

“Smith, with me,” Lachlan ordered. “Axel and Callie, you check the other dome.”

Lachlan and Smith found a dark-skinned, older man next to a destroyed communications system. He matched the photo of Dr. Malu. Lachlan stared numbly at the man’s face. It had been a long time since death had made him react.

Shit. Maybe he’d been doing this too long? He remembered his dad. A Marine to the bone, Douglas Hunter had come back from Vietnam and never been the same. He’d had a numbness in his eyes mixed with pain that could explode into rage without warning.

Lachlan shoved the old memories away and focused. There was an empty office he assumed belonged to the base leader, Dr. Rowan Schafer. He had a grainy, black and white picture of her that was particularly unflattering. They hadn’t found her yet.

Smith opened the door to the attached storage room. Nothing.

Lachlan touched his earpiece. All the team wore state-of-the-art microdot communicators. So tiny they were barely visible to the naked eye.

“Clear. Whatever did this, it isn’t here now.” Lachlan glanced at Smith and the man nodded.

“Clear.” Axel’s voice.

“Clear,” Blair added. “We’re starting work on bagging the bodies.”

Lachlan nodded at Smith. They moved back through the tunnels and into the main lab dome. Benches and shelves had been tipped over and torn up. Glass crunched under his boots.

As they moved to join the others in the rec dome, something danced along Lachlan’s senses. He turned in a slow circle. The lab was silent and cold. Nothing moved.

“Boss?” Smith asked.

“Go. I want to take one last look around. See if I can find this object they discovered in the ice.”

Smith nodded and tapped his ear. “Just holler if you need me.”

After he’d left, Lachlan carefully traveled the perimeter of the dome. There had definitely been a struggle in here, and something had rampaged through the lab. He reached the back wall and noted several boxes on the floor, and a shelf leaning against the wall. A shelf?

He studied the waist-high cabinet. The shelf looked like it would fit inside. He spotted another one tossed on the floor.

His eyes narrowed. The cabinet doors were ajar the tiniest bit.

Something moved inside.

Lachlan whipped his CXM rifle up and aimed. With his foot, he kicked the door open.

A woman sprang out with a yell and rammed into him. She was tall and solid, and he staggered back into the bench behind him.

She struggled wildly. Lachlan tried to contain her flailing arms without hurting her. Then he slipped on ice and they went down.

“Fuck,” he bit out.

The woman managed to straddle him and lifted a Glock. Her hands were shaking, her blue eyes a little unfocused, but there was a look of determination on her face. Her teeth were clenched together, tightening an already strong jawline. Dark-red hair escaped from a black, knitted hat on her head.

“Hey.” Lachlan held his palms up. “I’m here to help. My team was sent to find out what happened here.”

She blinked pale-blue eyes rimmed with darker blue that looked strangely familiar. “You’re not the…thing?”

Thing? “No. Just a man.”

“You’re wearing all white…I thought…” She shook her head. “They’re dead.” Her blue-tinged lips trembled.

Lachlan realized her shaking wasn’t all fear or shock. She was dressed in dark cargo pants and a green sweater—which he was man enough to notice clung to very nice curves. However, the clothes clearly weren’t enough to keep her warm in the cool temperature.

“I know,” he said quietly.

Damn, he wasn’t usually the one calming down victims and witnesses they encountered. He usually left that to Seth or Axel. Both had enough charm to make anyone feel easy with them. Well, Seth only turned his on when it suited him, but for Axel, it was like breathing.

But for some reason, Lachlan wanted to comfort this woman.

He reached up and touched her arm. “Let me help you?”

The pistol stayed stubbornly aimed at his chest. Lachlan weighed the odds, then in a lightning-fast move, he gripped her wrist and reared up. He spun her around until her back was flush against the front of him, her curvy butt resting in his lap.

She gasped, bucking against him. She tried to wrench her arm and the gun out of his grip.

His lips brushed her ear. “Just relax. You don’t need the gun.” He didn’t want to hurt her, but he tightened his hold until the gun clattered on the floor.

Her shaking increased. “They’re dead.” A tortured whisper.

“You’re cold.” Lachlan wrapped his arms around her, sharing his heat. “We need to get you warmed up.”

She held herself stiff.

“Let me help you,” he said. “I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”

She was stiff for another long second, then she relaxed into him. She turned her head, their faces only inches apart. “Okay.”

He nodded. “Okay.” She had a faint smattering of freckles he found pretty attractive.

They stayed there, him wrapped around her, for a full minute.

“I’m going to find you some warmer clothes and blankets.” Lachlan moved to stand.

Her hands gripped his wrists. “Don’t leave me.”

There was fear buried deep in her quiet words. Lachlan felt an insane need to protect this woman. “Okay.” He touched his ear. “Callie? Can you find some cold-weather clothes and blankets, and bring them to the lab? We have a survivor.”

“Roger that, boss,” was Callie’s steady response.

For now, Lachlan kept his hold on the woman. He focused on keeping her warm, and not on the curvy ass nestled against him.

“What’s your name?” she whispered.

“Lachlan.”

“They’re all dead, Lachlan.” Her voice hitched.

“Yeah, they are. I’m sorry.”

She swiveled to look at him again and those blue eyes hit him. “They’re dead, and it’s all my fault.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Rowan sat on a chair in the rec room, wrapped in a blanket.

Someone had finally shut off the door to the damaged dome, and the air was starting to warm up inside. She finally felt like she was thawing out. Unfortunately, as her body lost its numbness, so did her head.

She couldn’t believe what had happened. Emily, Isabel, Samuel…

Rowan cleared her throat. “I need coffee. Really strong coffee.”

She glanced around at the white-suited team, all holding futuristic-looking rifles slung over their shoulders. None of them were smiling, and they all looked like they had badassness running through their veins. She sighed. She wasn’t sure badassness was a word.

“Here.”

She looked up and saw that her rescuer had brought her a steaming-hot mug of coffee. It wasn’t topped with chocolate, but it would do.

Rowan wrapped both hands around the mug and took a sip. It was heavy on the sugar, and to her caffeine-starved system, it was heavenly. Her gaze moved back to Lachlan’s face as he sat across from her. Okay, this man might be easy on the eyes, but he didn’t just have badass running through his veins, she was pretty sure it permeated his cells.

Luckily, Rowan didn’t scare easily. He was handsome, in a rugged way, with dark scruff on his cheeks and jaw. From what she could tell, under the bulky, cold-weather gear, he was big and muscled. She looked at the other soldiers lining the rec room. They were all big and tough, except for the two females. They just looked tough.

“Dr. Schafer?”

Her gaze came back to the man in front of her. He had scary eyes, flat and assessing, and they were an unusual color—gold, like a tiger’s eyes.

She froze. It couldn’t be…

“What?” He tilted his head, a move that unlocked memories from a long time ago.

“Lachlan?” she whispered.

He went still.

“Lachlan Hunter?”

He blinked slowly, his face still impassive, but she got the impression that she’d surprised him.

“It’s Rowan,” she said. “Rowan Caswell.”

Now his eyes widened. “Little Rowan?”

She set her drink down. “Not so little anymore.” Without stopping to think, she moved, cupping one of his cheeks. This was the boy next door, who’d snuck her chocolate and made her childhood bearable. “God, it’s been years.”

“Over twenty.”

When his family had moved away, she’d been devastated. Of course, his father’s suicide had changed everything. She’d spent hours in her treehouse with Lachlan, both of them escaping their homes and the difficult lives within.

Lachlan had always been quiet and intense, with those tiger eyes. He’d been trying to avoid his father’s depression and vicious mood swings, and at times, his fists. She’d been escaping her parents’ indifference, and her endless hours of homework, violin lessons, and tennis lessons.

“Rowan.” Lachlan pressed a big hand over hers.

“Lachlan?”

Rowan dropped her hand and looked up at the blonde woman watching her with an assessing gaze. Rowan blinked. The woman had two different colored eyes—one bright blue and one that was…silver? She realized it was some kind of prosthetic.

“Rowan, this is my second-in-command, Blair Mason,” Lachlan said.

Blair’s blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked like she’d pull out your fingernails if you made a wrong move. Note to self: stay on Blair Mason’s good side.

“Rowan was my neighbor when we were kids,” Lachlan said.

“I was a lot more gangly then, with braces and unruly red hair.” Rowan knew she’d been awkward and plain. Thankfully, she’d grown out of that phase.

“You grew up nicely.” A faint smile tipped Lachlan’s lips.

Rowan felt a tingle. She liked the way his lips curved. She wondered what it looked like when he outright smiled.

“Schafer?” Lachlan’s smile disappeared. “You’re married?”

She shook her head. “My parents divorced a few years after you moved. My mother changed my surname to hers.”

Lachlan nodded, his face turning serious. “As glad as I am to see you again, we need to talk about what happened here, Rowan.”

Rowan’s stomach dropped away. The small amount of coffee she’d drank curdled in her belly. “Someone got the mayday call.”

Lachlan nodded. “They sent my team in. You managed to survive the night.”

A quick nod. “I snuck out and pulled a blanket into the cupboard, but I was getting colder by the hour and so scared—” Her voice cracked.

“Take your time. Let me introduce my team. You’ve met Blair.” Lachlan gestured at a lean, dark man leaning against a table. “This is Seth Lynch.” The man inclined his head at her, his pale eyes unreadable. One side of his face was handsome, while the other was covered in terrible scars.

“Smith Creed.”

The big, bearded man had dirty-blond hair that looked several weeks past needing a haircut, and a beard shades darker. His arms were crossed over his immense chest, and Rowan had the crazy thought that he needed an axe in his hand. He lifted his chin at her.

“Axel Diaz.”

The brown-haired man had dark-bronze skin and velvet-brown eyes. He smiled at her, and her chest hitched. It was a hell of a smile.

“I’m sorry about your ordeal, Dr. Schafer.”

He had a sexy voice, and she guessed some Mexican-American heritage. And clearly, the man was a charmer, through and through. “Thank you.”

“And our team medic, Callie Kimura.”

“Ma’am.” The woman had a compact body and a nice smile. Her straight, black hair fell to her shoulders, she had high cheekbones Rowan would sell a kidney for, and her eyes were an amazing gray. She looked like she was Hawaiian or Polynesian.

Rowan nodded, wondering if long hair and beards were regulation in the military. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

Lachlan shifted closer. “Can you walk us through what happened?”

Dimly, she was aware of Axel and Callie moving away.

“Everything was normal,” she said. “Everyone was back in from being out on the ice. The samples were all stored.” Rowan felt like her chest was filled with concrete. “Emily, our grad student, was excited.”

“Why?”

“Plants she’d been working on in the lab had regenerated. They’d started growing.”

“Plants from the ice?” Lachlan prompted.

She nodded. “They were over five thousand years old, so understandably, everyone was pretty excited. After, we had dinner, and I went to my office to do some work.” She pulled in a breath, feeling panic slither in like a cunning snake.

Lachlan reached out and grabbed her hand. Squeezed.

“I heard screams. I ran. I found Marc first, Dr. Fournier. He was…God—” She clenched her fingers on Lachlan’s hand. “He was dead. Then I heard…it. Heavy footsteps, and it roared. It was coming closer. I hid in a cupboard in the lab, but then I saw Emily run in. She panicked and it took her. I chased it.”

“You chased it?” She saw disbelief flare in Lachlan’s eyes.

“I couldn’t leave her! I grabbed a broom and ran, but I was too late.” Tears pricked Rowan’s eyes. “I saw the bodies. They were dead. I checked the communications system and found Samuel. It was wrecked. And I found Emily dead in the rec room. Caught up in ice.” Rowan felt a tear escape and she swiped it away.

She saw Lachlan trade a look with Blair.

Rowan heaved in a breath. “I heard the thing coming again. It was hunting me.”

“Did you see it?” Seth asked.

“Only a glimpse. It was big and white. It walked on two legs.”

Lachlan traded another weighty look with his team.

Footsteps made her look up, and she saw Axel and Callie return.

“We’ve accounted for all bodies,” Callie said. “One of the scientists is missing.”

Rowan jerked to her feet. “Who?”

“A man called Lars Jensen.”

Her heart leaped. “He could still be alive?”

“We don’t know yet,” Lachlan said. “We’ve searched the domes. He’s not inside.”

“Maybe he ran in the mayhem?” she said.

“Maybe,” Lachlan agreed readily. “Rowan, can you show us the item you pulled from the ice?”

She frowned. “The strange circular object?”

Lachlan nodded and pulled something from the pocket of his coat. It was a printed picture of the object.

She sucked in a breath. “How did you get the photo that I took?”

“Rowan, where is the object?” His face was set in serious lines.

She looked around at all the set faces, her brain whirring. Something else was going on here that she didn’t quite understand.

“I’ll show you.” Steeling herself, she left the rec dome and moved back to the labs. As they entered, she saw the body bags lined up in a row on the floor. The pain and grief were crippling.

So much senseless loss. They’d been her friends and colleagues. Smart, accomplished people with so much to give the world.

She felt a warm hand on her back, and she stiffened her spine. She moved over to the storage shelves. Some had been knocked over and smashed, but as she scanned the labels, she saw the one where the object had been stored was still upright.

Rowan pulled out the tray.

It was empty.

Her hands clenched on the plastic. “It was here.”

She watched the others shift closer.

“Who had it last?” Lachlan asked.

“I think Lars was planning to look at it again after dinner.”

Lachlan touched his ear. “Brooks, are you there?” He paused. “I need you to run everything you can on a Dr. Lars Jensen.”

“You think Lars stole it?” Rowan shook her head. “That he killed everyone?” She shook her head again. “No, that’s impossible. He’s sweet and geeky. He’s not capable of doing this.”

Rowan studied Lachlan again, her thoughts firing. A few things clicked into place, and she narrowed her gaze.

“Wait a minute. What branch of the military are you guys with?”

Silence.

She took a step back. “Oh, my God. You weren’t sent here to rescue us.”

He stepped closer. “Rowan—”

She pressed her fist to her chest and shook her head.

Lachlan frowned. “We were sent to rescue you, but it isn’t our only objective.”

Her heartbeat was a loud pounding in her ears. “I want some answers.”

“We aren’t authorized to give you answers,” Blair said in a low voice.

Rowan stumbled back, but Lachlan grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away from him, and the dark look on his face told her that he didn’t like it. “Let me go—”

“We’re a covert, black ops team.”

“Lachlan,” Blair growled in warning.

He ignored his second-in-command. “We’re tasked with collecting and safeguarding certain objects and artifacts.”

Rowan frowned. “Black ops?”

“Off the books. We report to one director who reports directly to the president.”

“The President of the United States?” When he nodded, she dragged in a breath. “Artifacts? Why?”

“Special artifacts. Ones with certain…abilities and capacities.”

“This makes no sense.”

“I know. We can talk some more later. For now, we need to focus on finding Lars.” Lachlan looked up. “Smith?”

The big man nodded. “There’s a clear trail leading out of the domes and heading due south on the ice. I’m ready to track.” He lifted his rifle.

“I can’t leave you here alone,” Lachlan said to Rowan.

She nodded. She didn’t want to be left here alone with the bodies of her dead team. “Let me get my gear and boots.”

Lars. She’d focus on her colleague who needed her help. Rowan just prayed he was still alive. Answers would have to come later.

AS THEY HEADED out of the base, Lachlan kept an eye on Rowan. She was in her cold-weather gear, and her color was much better now.

God, little, red-haired Rowan. It was hard to believe this well-built, attractive woman was the skinny little girl who’d once been an important part of his world. For several years, they’d been each other’s lifelines. They’d sit for hours in her treehouse, Rowan doing most of the talking. It hadn’t taken him long to work out how hungry she’d been for attention.

They’d first met, talking through a hole in the fence, one day when his dad was drunk and on a tear. She’d been all freckles and red pigtails.

But the freckles had faded, the red hair had deepened in color, and the skinny was now curvy. With surprising difficulty, he resisted the urge to continue studying her.

As he followed Blair out onto the ice, he pulled his goggles on. The light was bright, reflecting off the white landscape.

“Okay, Smith, you take point,” Lachlan ordered.

Smith moved ahead, and the rest of Lachlan’s team moved into formation. Automatically, they kept Rowan to the center of their group.

Lachlan nodded discreetly at Callie, and the medic shifted closer to Rowan. The woman was dependable and had nerves of steel—combat medics required those qualities in order to race in under fire to rescue injured soldiers. More importantly, Lachlan knew Callie cared. Despite the terrible attack that had ended Callie’s career as a pararescueman, she still cared about the people she tried to save. Lachlan knew the medic would run straight through the worst firefight to get to an injured person.

Smith moved at a fast clip, stopping every now and then to study something on the ice or rub his glove over something.

“You like being up here?” Blair asked Rowan, her voice skeptical.

“Believe it or not, it’s challenging and interesting,” Rowan said. “The team’s doing amazing work on climate science, biology, hydrology…” Her voice hitched. “Or…we were.”

Lachlan hated the grief he saw flash over her face. He wanted to touch her, try to ease that pain. He gritted his teeth. Shit. He’d never felt that need before. Actually, he usually sucked at that kind of thing.

They kept moving and Lachlan scanned ahead. They still had no clue of what they were dealing with.

He glanced at Callie again, noting the medic’s second weapon attached to her belt. A tranquilizer gun.

Smith paused. “Something ahead.”

Lachlan’s gaze fell on something breaking the ice. It looked like a small mound.

“Stop.” It was a near-soundless murmur. He gave hand signals to his team. “Rowan, stay back.”

She swallowed and nodded.

Team 52 lifted their CXMs, closing in on the mound of churned ice that had been pushed into a pile.

His team fanned out.

All of a sudden, a huge body sprung out of the ice. It crashed into Seth.

“Fuck,” Seth yelled.

“Hold your fire,” Lachlan yelled. If they fired, they’d risk hitting Seth.

Seth was lean, but he was strong as hell. He wrestled wildly with the attacker. Lachlan quickly took the man in.

Bulging muscles were coated in smooth opaque white, like he was wearing icy body armor. And he was big. At least six and a half feet. He also had a head of shaggy, blond hair.

Lachlan inched closer, and when Seth managed to roll the man, Lachlan reached out. He grabbed a handful of blond hair and yanked backward, trying to heave him away from Seth.

The attacker crashed back on the ice, then turned and snarled.

Fuck. Lachlan stepped back and whipped his rifle up. The man rose, towering over Lachlan’s own six foot two inches.

“Seth?”

“I’m okay. The fucker’s strong, Lachlan.”

Lachlan stared at their attacker. The man’s face was wrong. His veins stood out against his white skin, and his eyes were clouded. Right in the center of his chest rested the circular artifact. It was embedded in his skin.

“My God, Lars,” Rowan cried.

Lachlan glanced her way. She was white-faced and staring at the attacker.

“Rowan?” Lachlan said. “You know him?”

The man had swiveled his head, his cloudy, blue eyes settling on Rowan. He tilted his head.

“That’s…Lars.” She pressed her gloved hand to her chest, her eyes wide. “But it’s also not Lars. I don’t understand. He’s bigger, different.”

Lars shuffled closer to Rowan, sniffing. Then he charged at her.

No, you fucking don’t. Lachlan dived, slamming into the man.

The bastard spun, grabbing at Lachlan. Seth hadn’t lied, the man was strong. Lachlan felt icy claws rake across his chest, tearing up his coat.

The man snarled and then charged at Lachlan. They fell, Lachlan slamming into the ice, Lars landing on top of him.

Fuck. The air rushed out of Lachlan’s lungs. He sensed his team closing in. He tensed, ready to make his move against Lars.

The next thing Lachlan knew, Rowan had leaped onto Lars’ back.

“Lars, no, don’t hurt him.”

“Rowan, no,” Lachlan growled. “Blair.”

“On it,” his friend said.

Lachlan watched Blair tear Rowan off the man’s back and shove her at Seth.

Lars sprang back, eyeing them all warily. His hands curled, and Lachlan saw the claw-like blades on his hands. Then Lars moved into a crouch, looking confused.

Lachlan saw Axel and Callie standing nearby, both aiming weapons at Lars. Lachlan rose and nodded. “Do it.”

“No!” Rowan cried.

Axel fired. A black net tangled around Lars’ form. With a roar, the man started struggling.

Callie moved closer, holding the tranquilizer gun. She fired. A red-tipped dart hit Lars in the neck.

The man thrashed wildly for a few long seconds, and then finally, fell on his back on the ice. With one more burst of energy, he thrashed again, but his struggles were slowing down.

He went still.

Lachlan moved forward cautiously. It was obvious that the man was unconscious.

Seth was still holding Rowan, who stared at Lars, her eyes wide.

Lachlan reached through the net and yanked the artifact off the man’s chest. He held it up, frowning. It was surprisingly heavy.

Callie crouched and pressed a small medical monitoring patch to Lars’ neck.

“What’s happening?” Axel said.

They all watched Lars as his body began to shrink, the white on his skin dissolving, leaving pink behind. Soon, he was back to a regular size.

Lachlan glanced at his medic. “Get him back to base and warmed up. And Callie—”

“Yeah?”

“Keep him restrained.”

Smith moved forward to help Callie. Together they hefted the unconscious man up.

“What the fuck?” Rowan whispered. Her face was pale, her eyes huge. She stared at the artifact in Lachlan’s hand. “What is going on?”

“I’ll explain, I promise.” Lachlan looked at Blair and handed the artifact over to her. “Get this into a containment box.”

“On it.”

Then Lachlan turned to Rowan. “Everything is going to be okay.” He cupped her shoulders.

She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure that’s a big fat lie.” She frowned, staring at his chest. “Lachlan, you’re bleeding.”

Lachlan looked down at the tears in his suit. Blood was soaking into the white fabric. Dammit.

Then he frowned. Suddenly, he was aware of an icy cold creeping over his skin.

He staggered. Rowan caught him, swaying under his weight, as she fought to keep him upright.

“Amigo?” Axel said.

“Lachlan?” Panic skimmed Rowan’s face. “Someone help!”

CHAPTER FIVE

Rowan jogged beside Seth and Axel as they carried Lachlan between them. His face was ashen and his jaw tensed.

Ahead, she watched Callie and Smith disappear into the base with Lars.

“We have a small infirmary.” Rowan raced ahead to hold the door open. “It’s off the second lab dome.”

“Got it,” Axel murmured.

They hurried through the base, and the men helped Lachlan onto the bunk in the infirmary.

“It’s nothing,” Lachlan growled. “It’ll be fine.”

Rowan hurried to flick on the bunk’s heating pad. Lachlan’s color still wasn’t great. Then she turned to a cabinet, yanking it open and pulling out the first aid gear.

“Right. Like when you told me your arm was fine when you fell out of my treehouse as a kid.” She glanced at the men. “It was broken.”

Axel snorted, shooting her a sexy grin. “Sounds like she has you worked out, amigo.”

“She pushed me out of the treehouse,” Lachlan grumbled.

Seth let out a quiet laugh. Axel’s smile made Rowan’s brain go blank. With his sexy, brown eyes, smooth, brown skin, and that smile…he was designed to short-circuit a woman’s brain.

Lachlan growled again. “Rowan.”

She spun to look at Lachlan. He didn’t look happy. “Um, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to knock you out.”

Lachlan eyed her, slipping his cold-weather coat off.

Right. Injuries. “Help him get his shirt off as well.”

Lachlan continued to complain as Axel and Seth helped him out of his gear. Rowan set the first aid gear out on a small tray.

When she turned back, this time her brain didn’t go blank, it simply stopped functioning.

Lachlan’s upper body was bare and she couldn’t look away.

Holy cow. She didn’t know where to look first—the sleek muscles, the incredible silver prosthetic arm, or the tattoos. She swallowed. She didn’t know anyone could look that ripped. He had to have, like zero body fat.

Rowan’s gaze moved over his bronze skin to take in the large tattoo on his left shoulder, and the ink down his side. Then her attention snagged on his right arm. The prosthetic was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was grafted onto his skin at his shoulder, and was made of some sort of high-tech metal.

She’d had no idea he had a prosthetic arm. It moved perfectly in sync with him, just like his organic arm. Her gaze slid lower, to where his six pack abs and defined muscles disappeared into his cold-weather trousers.

She jerked her head up. How about you focus on the wicked scratches on his chest, Rowan?

Clearing her throat, she lifted a syringe. “I have some painkillers—”

“No,” Lachlan said.

“It might hurt—”

“It’s fine. No drugs.”

She glanced at Axel and Seth, and saw both men were grinning.

“Lachlan’s afraid of needles,” Axel said.

She blinked. That this rugged, tough warrior was afraid of anything blew her mind. “O-kay.”

“I’m not afraid…I just don’t like them.”

“Uh-huh,” Rowan agreed. She opened some antiseptic wipes and leaned over Lachlan. She swiped at the gashes and heard his controlled hiss.

“It’s not too deep,” she murmured.

“The boss hates getting patched up,” Axel said. “Fights Callie tooth and nail.”

Lachlan scowled at his teammate.

“I think I have this, guys,” Rowan said.

With a laugh, Axel left. Seth followed with a shake of his head, shooting her a look. His ice-blue eyes made her shiver.

“I don’t think Seth likes me,” she murmured.

“Seth trusts exactly five people. His teammates. He takes a little time to warm up.”

As she cleaned the nasty scratches, she was happy to see the white tinge on his skin disappear. “How did he get so distrusting?”

“He spent over a decade working for the CIA.”

“He was a spy?” she breathed.

Lachlan’s lips twitched. “Something like that. When Seth wants to blend into a crowd, even his mother couldn’t find him.”

“Were you CIA, too?”

He shook his head. “I joined the Marines right out of school. Force Reconnaissance.”

Rowan didn’t know what Force Reconnaissance was, but it sounded badass. She made a note to look it up.

She cleaned up the last of the blood. His skin was back to a gorgeous bronze. “I don’t think you need stitches, but I’ll put some medical glue on the scratches.” It was the most commonly used thing in the infirmary. Someone was always nicking themselves on something. Like when Isabel—

Pain made Rowan’s throat close. No one around here would be needing the infirmary again.

“Rowan?”

She pushed it away. “What happened to your arm?”

“Injury.”

When he didn’t say anything else, she smiled. “I see you’re still a man of many words.”

The faintest smile hit his lips, then faded away. “A mission went bad and we were overrun by insurgents. I went in to save a fellow Marine, but got caught in a blast. Lost my arm, and Blair dragged my ass out of there and got injured as well. Afterward, I left the Marines and joined Team 52.”

His voice was toneless and she knew it had been bad. “I’ve never seen a prosthetic this high-tech before.”

He stayed silent.

“And Blair’s eye…?”

“She lost it rescuing me.” His tone said he was done talking.

Okay, moving on. She pressed a hand to his chest, realizing just how hot and hard he felt. Electricity zinged through her and she forced herself to lift the glue tube. She ran it through the deepest scratches.

She could feel his attention on her. Her gaze flicked up to find tawny eyes watching her. Her chest locked.

Pulse jumping, she smoothed her hand over his hard pec. She saw something flicker in his eyes. Helpless to stop herself, she stroked his sleek skin again, and this time, she saw his big body shiver.

Wow. Talk about bad timing. She looked up and their gazes met.

“Rowan…”

His voice moved through her, setting her nerves alight. Rowan stepped back and tried to recap the tube of glue with trembling fingers. “All done. So…can you explain what I just saw out on the ice?”

“Yes. But you’ll never be able to tell anyone. It’s classified.”

Her heart thumped. “What will happen to Lars?”

“He’ll be cared for. There will be a cover story to explain the death of the other scientists.”

Rowan squeezed her eyes closed and thought of her friends—Isabel, Emily, Samuel, Amara, the others. Their families would never know the truth.

“Probably something like a gas leak,” Lachlan continued. “Something that killed them all at once.”

She nodded tiredly. “And the artifact?”

“That’s a longer story.” He swung into a sitting position.

Suddenly, she found herself very close to him and staring at a wall of hard chest. She sucked in a deep breath and pulled in his scent. Heat moved through her body, settling in her belly.

“Rowan, you’d better stop looking at me like that,” he said.

She met his gaze and saw the same attraction she felt shimmering there. She’d loved his golden tiger eyes when she’d been young. They looked harder and scarier now, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She’d never been afraid of him.

After a few breathless seconds, he reached out and touched her hair, stroking a strand of it between his fingers. Rowan inhaled audibly.

“How’s the patient?”

Callie’s cheerful voice made Rowan step back. She looked up at the medic and forced a smile. “Fine.”

“Usually he gives me trouble.” Callie moved closer, her gray gaze on Lachlan’s injury.

Lachlan gave the woman a scowling look, before reaching for his shirt. He shrugged it on.

“The artifact has been secured on the X8,” Callie said. “The others are loading the bodies now.”

“Close the base down, and let’s go.” Lachlan looked at Rowan. “Pack your things. Only what you can easily carry.”

She nodded. It didn’t take her long to grab her things from her office, and some clothes from under her bunk.

As she left the base, she paused at the door, looking back into the rec room. Emotions churned through her, then she turned away and followed Team 52.

She’d barely taken in the strange helicopter that was parked outside when they’d chased after Lars. Now, she gave it her full attention.

It looked like something straight from the set of a movie. It was made of a white metal, and looked like a cross between a helicopter and a plane. It had twin rotors on top, and jet engines on the modified wings.

Lachlan stood at the open side door, and waved her in. She climbed aboard, and immediately spotted the body bags resting at the back of the helicopter.

The pain was piercing and she couldn’t move. It was only when Lachlan pressed a hand to her lower back that she came unstuck.

He led her to one of the big seats and she dropped down into it.

Her team was dead and she’d failed them. But dammit, she was going to find out what had happened.

AS THE X8 FLEW SOUTH, Lachlan watched Rowan and worried.

She’d been quiet for hours, her arms curled around herself, and her legs tucked up under her. She stared out the window, but he didn’t think she was looking at the view.

“You going to take your eyes off her at some stage, amigo?” Axel drawled from behind him.

Lachlan shot the man a killer look, but as usual, Axel shrugged it off with a laugh.

Lars was resting on a stretcher toward the back of the chopper. He was sedated, and Callie said he wasn’t doing well. The medic sat beside him, monitoring his vitals.

“I want to know about the artifact,” Rowan said suddenly.

Lachlan whipped his head back around. He caught Axel’s gaze. Smith was sprawled in the chair beside him, dozing. The big man cracked one hazel eye open, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Lachlan moved chairs, sitting down across from Rowan.

“As I told you, my team was sent here to rescue survivors and contain the artifact.”

“And that’s what Team 52 does?” she asked. “Contains and safeguards artifacts?”

He nodded. “Certain items that are dangerous.”

“What items, exactly? What is that artifact? A foreign weapon? Something experimental?”

“No.”

Her brow creased. “If you say aliens…”

He smiled. She was tired and stressed, but she was holding it together. “Not aliens. But the object is likely an ancient artifact.”

“If you say the word magic, I’ll scream.”

“Not magic, either. But you’ve heard that saying about how any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic?”

She stilled. “Arthur C. Clarke. Advanced technology? Lachlan, that artifact was trapped in ice that was over five thousand years old. It can’t be advanced anything.”

He leaned back in his chair. “What if I told you that what you know about conventional history isn’t entirely correct?”

She pondered that for a second. “Okay.” He could see her intelligent brain working. Her gaze locked on his. “Go on.”

“There is evidence that civilization is older than we believe,” he said. “Unexplained artifacts, submerged ruins that predate the earliest advanced cultures like the Sumerians and Egyptians.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re saying that there were other advanced cultures before Sumer and Egypt?”

“Exactly. How advanced, we aren’t sure. Have you heard of Hueyátlaco?”

She shook her head.

“It’s an archeological site in Mexico. Archeologists worked there during the sixties and discovered stone tools and animal remains in situ, seemingly undisturbed. Two different dating methods dated the site up to two hundred and fifty thousand years old.”

“What?” she breathed.

“And then there’s Göbekli Tepe in southern Turkey,” he added.

“I’ve heard of that. An archeological site that was made a world heritage site, right?”

“Right. Discovered in the sixties, it was mostly ignored, but archeologists have been working on it over the last few years and Göbekli Tepe doesn’t make sense. It’s Neolithic, with the world’s oldest megaliths, skilled construction, and amazing carvings.” He paused. “It is also twelve thousand years old. It predates Stonehenge, Sumer, and writing by six thousand years.”

Rowan’s mouth dropped open.

“I could go on. Sunken ruins off the coast of India that are thousands of years old. Highly classified ruins under the ice in Antarctica.”

“No way,” she breathed.

“Human civilization was more advanced than we believed, and was mostly destroyed by flooding at the end of the last ice age.”

“Flooding.” She sat bolt upright like she’d been prodded. “Atlantis?”

He winced. “Atlantis is a hokey myth cobbled together from snippets of truth. Yes, advanced cultures existed, but all over the planet, not in one mythical utopia. There are myths about sunken cities and continents from all over the world.”

“This is…mind-boggling.” She pushed her hair back.

“There are some characteristic signs, like megalithic, large-scale constructions that they left behind. And there are some artifacts…that contain abilities that are dangerous.”

“Like this metallic circle.”

“Yes. I’m guessing Lars accidentally activated it.”

Rowan took a deep breath. “Who the hell could have been living up on Ellesmere Island five thousand years ago? Who had the ability to make something like that? The Pre-Dorset culture lived there around that time, and records show they were people who hunted seals and caribou.”

“I don’t have the answers yet. My team back at base will analyze the artifact, and piece together what they can.”

“Then what?”

“Then the artifact will be secured in a top-secret facility.”

She gripped the armrests of her seat. “What aren’t you saying?”

“That there are a lot of people out there, not nice people, who would kill to get their hands on the artifact.”

Rowan went still. “Terrorists?”

Lachlan nodded. “And arms dealers, crime syndicates, black-market thieves, dictators, unfriendly regimes, and—”

She held up a hand. “I get it. Where’s your base?”

“Nevada.”

Suddenly, her shoulders sagged. “So it’s likely my team dying was just a tragic, meaningless accident.”

“Rowan—”

Her lips trembled and he saw she was trying hard to hold it together. “I was the base leader. It was my responsibility to keep them safe.”

He grabbed her hand. “You couldn’t have prepared for something like this.”

“They’re dead, Lars is hurt, and I’m alive.” Her voice broke.

Survivor guilt. Lachlan knew all too well how that felt. “You’ll get through this, sweetheart. I know you will.”

She shook her head and a tear tracked down her cheek. “It’s tearing me up inside.”

Not caring that his team would give him hell for it later, Lachlan undid her belt and yanked her into his lap. She held herself stiff.

“Let it out, Rowan.”

She shook her head again, a little desperately. “I can’t. I don’t cry. I don’t lose it.”

“You used to cry all the time.”

“Not after you left…I…” Another tear slid down her cheek. “I guess I grew up and got tougher.”

Something slid through his gut. No, she just didn’t have anyone to hold her when she cried anymore. God, her parents had been cold assholes, and he guessed that hadn’t changed.

“I’ve got you, Rowan. Let it out.”

She leaned into him, a sob breaking free. Her hands gripped him. “I’m alive and they’re all dead.” She started crying, not loud and obnoxious, but quiet, her shoulders shaking.

Lachlan pulled her face to his chest and held on tight. She burrowed into him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, wishing he could spare her all of this. He saw his team was all looking away, giving them what privacy they could.

Finally, her crying stopped. When he tipped her face back, her eyes were red and she looked exhausted.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’m not usually like this—”

“Rowan, stop beating yourself up.”

“Your shirt’s a little wet.”

“It’ll dry.” He rubbed a thumb over her damp cheek. “We have a few hours to go. Why don’t you get some rest?”

She made a choked sound. “Like I’ll be able to sleep after all of this.”

Lachlan reluctantly set her back in her seat and watched as she leaned back.

“Lachlan?”

“Yeah?” He met her blue eyes.

“Thank you.” She turned her head to look out the window. It took her three minutes to fall asleep.

He opened an overhead compartment and pulled out a blanket. He gently tucked it around her. Then he stood and moved back to Callie.

“How is she?” Callie asked.

“Hanging in there.” His gaze fell on Lars. “Your patient?”

“Not great.” Callie tucked her dark hair back behind her ear. “I’ve no idea what the artifact did to him, but it looks like his organs are failing.”

Shit. “Okay, keep him comfortable, and keep me updated.”

Again, Lachlan found his gaze drawn back to Rowan. Despite himself, he felt a pull toward her, and a desperate need to keep her safe.

But this mission was almost over, and once they got back, she’d be out of harm’s way and able to go home. Back to her normal life.

His prosthetic hand curled. Another reminder that he wasn’t just a normal guy. Lachlan was well aware of the things he’d done, the things he’d seen, the man he was now. He also knew he’d never, ever risk hurting someone he cared about.

He’d watched his mother live everyday in terror that her husband would snap, and hurt her or Lachlan. Lachlan had lived that nightmare and he’d never inflict it on a woman.

Someone as smart and beautiful as Rowan Schafer should never have to live with that.

CHAPTER SIX

Rowan blinked awake, stretching in her seat. She heard the quiet, deep-voiced murmurs of Team 52, and could feel the aircraft descending. She glanced out the window. Beige desert stretched as far as the eye could see, and the sun was hovering just above the western horizon.

She’d slept for hours, awakened briefly by Lachlan, who’d forced some food and coffee into her before she’d fallen asleep again. Despite the sleep, however, she felt gritty-eyed and disheveled. She’d kill for a hot shower.

Lachlan appeared, sitting beside her. He was dressed all in black now—cargo pants and a black shirt. He didn’t look tired or disheveled.

“You got some rest?” he asked.

She nodded. “How’s Lars?”

“No change.”

She looked out the window again, and spotted a large, white patch on the ground below. “What’s that?”

Lachlan leaned over, his shoulder brushing hers. Again, she felt that disconcerting zing race through her. Of all the times for her hibernating body to decide to come to life.

“Groom Lake salt flat.”

She stiffened. “Wait! Groom Lake… Your base is Area 51?”

He shot her a grin that softened his face. “No. We’re based next door at Area 52, also known as the Tonopah Test Range. It’s a restricted military installation northwest of Area 51.”

“Wow.” Rowan pressed her fingers to her lips. “So, while everyone’s focused on Area 51, you guys are quietly hiding a secret base of powerful ancient artifacts next door?”

“That about covers it.”

Shaking her head, she relaxed back in her seat. Lachlan leaned over and fastened her belt. His fingers brushed her belly and she sucked in a breath. The slightest touch from him seemed to send her body haywire.

Gold-brown eyes flicked up to hers, and she saw that sexy, half-smile again. Axel might have a delicious full-on, mega-watt smile, but it didn’t seem to have the effect on her that Lachlan’s small one did.

“We’re coming in to land,” he said.

The jet-copter landed like a helicopter, swinging in to set down in front of a large hangar.

Blair ducked out of the cockpit. “Welcome home, ladies.”

There were some good-natured grumbles. Seth followed Blair out with a shake of his head.

Lachlan slid the side door open, and as Rowan unbuckled, she saw Smith and Callie maneuvering Lars’ stretcher off. She stared at Lars’ slack, pale face and her gut cramped.

When she reached the door, Lachlan gripped her waist and lifted her down. Warm, dry desert air hit her in the face. God, it felt so strange after months in the Arctic. It left her feeling weird.

She could see a lot of runways and other hangars in the distance. “This is an Air Force facility?”

“A lot of different agencies conduct work here,” he said. “Everyone operates under an Air Force permit.”

Lachlan pressed a hand to her lower back as they walked inside the large hangar. Blair moved ahead, walking with a loose-limbed stride Rowan wished she could emulate, with Axel sauntering beside her. Seth carried the box Rowan knew held the artifact.

She looked around, spotting a mixture of armed guards in black, and some in Air Force blue-gray camouflage uniforms. They were all standing, alert and focused, as Team 52 moved past.

Inside the hangar, Rowan blinked as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. It looked like a regular aircraft hangar, filled with various planes and helicopters, and maintenance equipment. She was a bit disappointed. She’d expected something…more.

There were more armed airmen standing beside a large industrial elevator. Callie pushed the stretcher into the elevator, and the rest of Team 52 followed. Lachlan nudged Rowan in, and her boots thumped on the black, metal grate floor.

Lachlan touched the controls and the doors closed. The elevator shot down.

Way down.

They descended in silence. Rowan tried to estimate how far underground they were, when the elevator finally slowed. The doors opened and they exited into a huge, cavernous space.

Holy. Hell. Rowan looked around, her mouth dropping open. The black walls absorbed the light, but the place was well lit. To one side, stood huge, double doors that were tightly closed.

“That’s our storage facility,” Lachlan said.

He nudged her toward the left and through a doorway. They entered a corridor lined by glass-walled rooms.

One larger room looked like a rec room, similar to the one they’d had at the research base, except this one was sleeker and better equipped. The kitchenette gleamed, and there were tables and chairs, along with streamlined black couches.

“Welcome to Area 52, Rowan,” Seth said.

She nodded at him, taking in his cool tone. He clearly still wasn’t sure about her.

“Hey, you’re back.” A good-looking man wearing dark-framed glasses strode into the room. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, but instead, had on jeans and a tight-black shirt that showed off a muscled chest and tattoos down one arm. His shirt had “Pew Pew” written on it in Star Wars font.

He smiled at Rowan, a lock of brown hair falling over his forehead. “Hi, I’m Brooks. Brooks Jameson.”

“Hi. Rowan.”

“I know.” The man’s smile widened. He had a sexy, hot geek thing going on that worked well for him. “I do comms and intel for the team. I know all.” He fluttered his fingers.

“Where’s Ty?” Lachlan asked.

“In the lab.” Brooks’ face turned serious. “He’s waiting.”

Callie whisked Lars’ stretcher past them and down the corridor. Rowan had to trot to keep up with Lachlan’s long strides. Brooks kept pace right beside them.

“The boss is incoming, too.” Brooks’ eyebrows rose.

“Boss?” Rowan asked.

“The man in charge,” Brooks said. “Jonah Grayson. He’s the man in charge of Area 52.”

She wondered what kind of man was put in charge of an operation like this.

Lachlan led Rowan into a lab. She jerked to a stop and couldn’t help but drool a little. The place was amazing, and filled with all kinds of equipment designed to be a scientist’s wet dream.

“Where is it?” a deep voice demanded.

Rowan turned, her eyes widening as she took in the African-American man bearing down on them, his white lab coat flaring out behind his powerful body.

Wow. His dark hair was cut super short, his face was too rugged for handsome, and he had a sexy goatee. The man had a presence.

“Dr. Ty Sampson, Dr. Rowan Schafer,” Lachlan said. “And we’re fine, thanks for asking. Survived the mission with only minor injuries.”

Ty grunted. “You’re all walking, so I didn’t bother asking.”

“Hello, and welcome to our home away from home.” A woman joined them. Her long, black hair was loose and had a hint of a curl. She wasn’t wearing fatigues. Instead, she wore a long, fitted gray skirt, a pale-pink shirt, and killer heels. She looked like she’d just stepped out of the boardroom, or someone’s librarian fantasy.

“Hey, Nat.” Lachlan murmured.

“Hi,” Rowan said.

“I’m Dr. Natalie Blackwell.” The woman shook Rowan’s hand.

If Rowan wasn’t mistaken, the woman had a soft Australian accent and some Asian heritage.

“I’m the chief archeologist here, while Dr. Grumpy here is our technology guru. He’s also a medical doctor.” She looked at Ty and pulled a face. “Overachiever.”

He bared white teeth.

“Callie needs help with our patient,” Lachlan said.

Ty’s face turned serious. “I’ll be back.”

Seth hefted the containment box on the bench.

“I’m sorry about your ordeal,” Natalie said softly to Rowan.

Grief hit Rowan again, and she managed a nod. “I guess I should be grateful to be alive.”

As Lachlan stepped forward to open the box, they all crowded around. Natalie snapped on some gloves, then reached in and removed the artifact. She set it on a tray on the bench.

“Well, hello there.” Her face lit up and she was clearly completely absorbed.

Rowan watched the archeologist pull out some sort of device and start scanning the artifact.

“I’ve been running the history of Ellesmere Island,” Natalie said. “Trying to see if anything pops on who could have created this artifact.”

“I was telling Lachlan that the ice where we pulled the artifact from was about five thousand years old,” Rowan said. “About when the Pre-Dorset culture lived on the island.”

Natalie nodded. “Five thousand years ago, the temperatures were warmer than they are now.”

Rowan raised a brow. “That’s right. The ice samples we were pulling back up that theory.”

“It would have helped people flourish on the island.”

“But the Pre-Dorset were hunters of sea and land mammals.”

Nat nodded. “They didn’t leave much for us to find. A few settlements and stone tools. It appears they had the bow and arrow, and other tools that made them good hunters.”

Rowan threw her hands in the air. “Nothing suggests they were a super-advanced race of people developing high-tech devices.”

Nat pressed a hip against the bench. “Imagine if this base was destroyed, and thousands of years from now, people sifted through the remains. Imagine they picked apart the wires and chips of a computer. What would they guess it was? Would they be able to deduce what it was capable of?”

Seth grunted. “I’d guess they’d suggest it was ceremonial and used to worship the gods.”

“The Pre-Dorset and their successors, the Dorset, have been shown to have no genetic link to the Thule Inuit who followed them,” Nat said. “They came from somewhere—where we don’t know for sure—and adapted very well to living in extremely cold weather. I couldn’t find much on the Pre-Dorset time period, but the Dorset left a little more behind.”

Rowan frowned. “They were still hunters, and carved soapstone and built simple stone longhouses.”

“Ah, but with some fascinating differences from their pre-cursors. Unlike their Pre-Dorset ancestors and the Inuit who came after them, the Dorset didn’t hunt land animals, but focused on sea mammals. Large sea mammals, like walrus and narwhal.”

Rowan frowned. “Okay.”

“And it appears that the Dorset didn’t use bow and arrows. Their ancestors did, but the Dorset stopped using them.” Nat smiled. “Yet they hunted large sea mammals comfortably.”

“You’re saying they found other ways to hunt.”

“Most likely. I also found some interesting Inuit legends about the Dorset culture. They called them the Tuniit or Sivullirmiut, the First Inhabitants. They were said to be giants, who were taller and stronger.”

“What?” Rowan breathed.

“Shit,” Lachlan muttered.

“A Canadian poet wrote about the Dorset giants who drove the Vikings back to their longships,” Nat finished.

Rowan sucked in a breath. “Giants?” She turned to look at Lachlan. “The artifact made Lars larger and stronger.”

Lachlan’s face hardened. “Just like a giant.”

LACHLAN FOUND Rowan in the kitchen area, nursing a hot chocolate.

“How are you?” he asked.

She lifted a shoulder. “This all feels surreal.” She looked through the glass wall out toward the large doors leading to the warehouse. “I’m in a secret base in Nevada, and just a day ago, I was leading a multidisciplinary team on the Gilman Glacier.” She looked into her drink. “Now they’re all dead.”

Lachlan wanted to hold her again, but held back. He knew that nothing but time would help heal those wounds. “I’m guessing you’d like to contact your parents. Let them know you’re okay.”

She nodded.

“And would a shower help?”

She looked up, her blue eyes lighting. “I’ll bear your firstborn child if you let me have a hot shower.”

Her words made his body lock. First, he imagined exactly what it took to make a child, then he imagined what Rowan would look like with a swollen belly. He cleared his throat, and noticed her cheeks were pink.

“Childbirth isn’t required,” he said. “Follow me.”

He led her down to his quarters. He could have organized some spare quarters elsewhere for her, but for some reason, he wanted her closer. He watched her take in the sparse room. Bunk, cupboard, desk. Nothing fancy, and he hadn’t added anything personal.

“Bathroom’s through there.” He nodded to the door. “Phone’s on the desk to make your calls. I’ll bring your bag in, and then I have a meeting with my boss.”

“Thanks, Lachlan.” She smiled at him.

Lachlan went and grabbed her bag. When he returned, he heard her on the phone. He set the bag down inside the door. Rowan was sitting in the only chair in the room, her back to him.

“Yes, I’m physically okay, Mom.” Silence. “Dad didn’t answer, so I left him a message.” A pause. “Yes, I know he’s really busy.”

Lachlan frowned. Too busy to talk to his daughter who was supposed to be in the Arctic?

“I can’t…” Rowan drew in a breath. “I can’t really talk about specifics, Mom. There’ll be an investigation, but it was bad, and good people lost their lives.”

Leaning against the doorjamb, he watched her press a fist to her chest.

Then she sucked in a sharp breath. “Mom—” Another pause. “Look, I’m sorry you think my failure on this research trip will reflect badly on you, but people died. I almost died—”

Lachlan straightened, heat rushing into his veins. Rowan’s mother was worried about herself and her reputation? Fucking bitch.

“Yes, I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home,” Rowan said dully. “And yes, I—”

He’d had enough. He strode forward and pressed the button to disconnect the call.

She looked up. “What the—?”

“Please tell me she wasn’t just droning on about herself?” he bit out.

Heat rose along Rowan’s cheekbones. “I’m used to it, Lachlan. Their academic careers are everything to my parents.”

“Their daughter almost died.”

She brushed a hand back through her hair. “I think I’ll take that shower now.”

“Your parents are assholes, Rowan.”

She lifted a shoulder. “They’re the only ones I’ve got.” She shot him a look before she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

He stayed there, staring at the door. He heard the shower turn on, and instantly he imagined red hair darkened to mahogany by the water, and droplets running over creamy skin.

Fuck. His cock hardened, and he quickly slammed out of the room. Her damn parents…he shook his head. When he got to Grayson’s office, he didn’t bother knocking.

Director Jonah Grayson was standing in profile behind his desk, wearing one of his perfectly fitted, dark suits, reading a file. He looked up. “Lachlan.”

“Jonah.” He dropped into a chair.

Jonah was tall, with black hair and piercing green eyes. He had some Native American heritage that came through in his bronze skin and high cheekbones. Lachlan had no idea exactly what the man’s background included, but he could handle himself in any situation, gave orders with ease, and navigated Washington’s political minefields with a deft hand.

But every now and then, Lachlan sensed that Jonah hid a whole lot of dangerous under his suave exterior.

“This is a mess.” Jonah tossed the file on his desk.

“Yeah.”

“The cover story has gone out. An undetected gas leak killed the research team, and left Dr. Jensen in intensive care. By a stroke of luck, Dr. Schafer survived.”

Lachlan nodded. “Ty and Nat are working on the artifact. After they’ve finished, it’ll be locked up.”

“Good.” Jonah nodded. “We can trust Dr. Schafer to stick to the story?”

“Yes.” Lachlan knew she wouldn’t like it.

“There’ll be some paperwork for her to sign. I’ll get Brooks to sort it out. You can tell Dr. Schafer she’s free to head home.”

Lachlan knew he’d been dismissed.

He found Rowan in the kitchen again, sitting at a table and picking at some noodles.

“Hey.” He poured himself a coffee and grabbed some things from the cupboard. “Feel better?”

He got a forced smile. “Sure.”

He sat in the chair beside her. “My boss has cleared you to go home.”

She bit her lip. “How the hell do I just go back to my life after this?”

Following instincts he couldn’t define, Lachlan moved closer, sliding an arm around her shoulders. “One day at a time.”

A choked sound escaped her. “You used to say that to me when I was upset as a kid.”

“And then I’d give you one of these.” He held out a candy bar.

A hiccupping laugh. “I’ve turned into a chocolate snob since then. I prefer Belgian.” But she took the bar and pocketed it.

He pulled her closer, and she buried her face into his chest. Her arms wrapped around him, holding on tight.

“I missed you, Lachlan.”

God, she felt good. She was the perfect size, tucked up against him. He felt one of her hands slide under his shirt. That felt good too. Too good.

“Rowan—”

She looked up, her blue eyes filled with heat.

Fuck. Lachlan felt his control slip. He lowered his head and kissed her.

As his mouth hit hers, she went still. Then, one of her hands slid into his hair and she kissed him back.

Damn. An inferno roared through Lachlan. He’d expected sweet, but it instantly morphed into hot and demanding. She pressed into him, her full breasts against his chest. His heartbeat accelerated and he deepened the kiss, tongue delving into her mouth. She moaned, her fingers pulling on his hair. Her tongue slid against his and she pushed even closer. With a groan, he gripped her, dragging her into his lap. She straddled him and whimpered. Shit, his cock was so hard.

“Ah, sorry to interrupt.”

Lachlan heard Rowan squeak, and he pulled back. She tried to scramble away, but he held her still.

“Brooks.” The man had terrible timing.

Brooks slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, not trying very hard to hide his grin. “I have some confidentiality agreements for Rowan to sign.” He nodded to some papers on the table.

She nodded, fighting to get off Lachlan’s lap. He clamped a hand on her thigh to keep her in place.

“I’m sure Lachlan’s told you that the appropriate authorities have been dealt with, and you’re free to go home.”

Rowan nodded and looked at Lachlan. “And Lars?”

“We’ll take care of him,” he said. “You have my word.”

Her shoulders drooped and Lachlan thought she looked incredibly tired. She’d been through so much, and she’d held up so well.

And here he was, thinking with his cock. Taking advantage of a vulnerable woman. The thoughts were like a bucket of ice over his desire.

He shifted her off his lap, placing her back in her chair.

He had to remember that he was her past. Hell, they hadn’t seen each other for two decades, and in that time, he’d done things that would make her look at him in horror.

Lachlan wasn’t the kid she’d known anymore. She deserved some decent, normal guy who’d take care of her. To give her a pretty house and be home every night. Lachlan hated the faceless guy already.

“The director asked me to organize a flight to Las Vegas for you this evening,” Brooks said. “Then you’ll have a flight back to New York in the morning.”

“Oh…okay.” She looked bemused and slightly befuddled.

“I’ll get you a room at one of the casinos,” Brooks said. “A new one just opened up and I hear it’s awesome. You can have a great rest tonight for your flight back east tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care.” With a nod, Brooks swiveled and left.

Rowan looked up at Lachlan. “Lachlan—”

“It was good to see you, Rowan.” He stood. “I always knew you’d make something of yourself. You were always so smart. Don’t let this ordeal slow you down.”

She stared at him, something working in her gaze. Finally, she folded her arms. “Were you not here when we kissed?”

Shit. “Yes.”

“I’d like to kiss you again.”

Lachlan didn’t remember Rowan being so direct and straight to the point. “Rowan, you’ve been through a lot—”

Her russet eyebrows rose. “You think I’m not thinking straight?”

“I think you’re vulnerable right now.”

She stood, her chin lifted. “Never pegged you for a coward, Lachlan.”

He leaned closer. “I’m not the boy you knew.”

She shifted closer, their faces close together. “I’m not the girl you knew, either.”

No, she was an attractive woman who clearly played no games.

He stayed silent and she made an annoyed sound. Finally, she shoved past him and even though Lachlan told himself to let her go, he found himself grabbing her arm.

“I have nothing to offer you, Rowan. My work, what I did before—”

“I wasn’t asking for a lifetime commitment, Lachlan,” she bit out. “Besides, how do you know if you don’t try?”

“I know,” he said darkly.

“Bullshit. If you don’t want me, just say so. I’m used to not being wanted.”

His anger flared and he yanked her against his chest. Her mouth opened to spit something at him, but he kissed her. It was an angry, fierce kiss. Her hands twisted in his shirt.

Finally, he lifted his mouth. “This isn’t about want.” His gut was churning. “I don’t have time for you, and—”

She flinched like he’d hit her and stepped back. He almost reached for her again, but she stiffened her spine. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. I’ll get my things.”

As she walked away, Lachlan’s fingers curled into fists. Damn, he remembered all those times he’d found her in her treehouse, crying. Telling him that her parents just didn’t care, didn’t have time for her, didn’t want her.

Fuck.

This was for the best. In the weeks to come, she’d forget about him and move on.

He forced himself to walk away to get the jet-copter ready.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rowan flopped back on the huge bed in her room at the brand-new Aurora Casino. A stunning chandelier was the centerpiece of the room, light refracting off the hundreds of crystals. She’d seen more of the huge chandeliers as she’d walked through the lobby and casino area.

She stared at the glittering light above her and felt hollow. It was almost like the events of the last few days had happened to somebody else—finding the artifact, the attack, the rescue, meeting Lachlan again.

As soon as she’d checked in, she’d called her parents again. She’d gotten her father’s voicemail and left another message. Then, she’d gotten her mother’s voicemail and left a message letting her mother know she’d be back in New York tomorrow. It wasn’t every day your daughter survived a terrible situation that had killed her research team, so maybe her father would call her for once, and maybe her mother would pick her up from the airport. Rowan closed her eyes, knowing the truth.

She had never felt more alone than she did now.

The bright lights glinting outside drew her, and she stood up, moving over to the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. Her room wasn’t too high up, but she still had a good view of the Strip spread out before her. Below, lay the amazing glass roof of the Aurora’s main casino floor. She could see the hundreds of people at the gaming tables and slot machines. Beyond that were the colored, blinking lights and bustle of the rest of Las Vegas.

People laughing and having fun, oblivious to her life imploding. Oblivious to the fact that artifacts—incredible pieces of powerful tech—could turn up any time and wreak havoc.

She had a flight out in the morning back to New York. She wasn’t tired, because she’d dozed most of the day on the aircraft. Her thoughts turned to Lachlan and she sighed. She immediately closed that train of thought down. Nope, she wasn’t going there. That was done. He’d made that very clear.

Maybe alone was best. Have no one to care about, to hurt you, to let you down. She made a choked sound. She’d almost died in northern Canada. She realized now that if that had happened, her parents would barely mourn her, her friends and colleagues would be sad…for a little while.

She could have died and not a single soul on the planet would really care.

Ugly emotions filling her chest, she spun around. She wasn’t going to sit here feeling sorry for herself. She had a night in Vegas in a fancy hotel, and she was determined to enjoy the hell out of this sweet room.

In the huge bathroom, she flicked on the faucet, running a bath and tipping in some of the sweet-smelling bubble bath. After stripping, she took her time soaking in the bubbles. The hot water worked wonders on her tense muscles.

When she was finished, she wrapped herself in a fluffy robe and couldn’t stop herself from checking the phone. There were no messages.

Rowan ordered room service. She ate some of her steak and salad, and sipped her glass of wine. She tried to watch a movie, but found herself thinking of poor Lars and her dead friends. She hated the thought of Isabel, Emily, and the others lying cold and still in a morgue at Area 52.

Flicking off the television, she glanced at the still-silent phone, then moved over to her bag. She dropped the robe and pulled on some pajama shorts and a tank top in a deep green. It felt like forever since she’d worn warm-weather clothes. It was going to take a while to get used to not wearing an arctic coat everywhere.

Knowing she’d never be able to get to sleep yet, she flicked off the lights and curled up on the huge couch that sat, facing the windows. She grabbed a soft throw blanket, pulled it over herself, and stared at the lights outside. In the distance, she saw a dancing fountain, and watched as lights strobed through the night sky.

She wondered what Lachlan and his team were doing.

No. She squashed that thought. Lachlan had made it clear that, while he was happy to see her again, that was as far as his interest went. She’d been a job, with a side of childhood nostalgia, that was it.

So why the hell did it hurt so much? She pulled her knees to her chest. Tomorrow, she’d get back to New York and do what she always did—get on with things. If nothing else, Dr. Rowan Schafer knew how to put one foot in front of the other.

The loneliness sank onto her shoulders like a stone. Surprisingly, while sitting there in the darkness watching the Las Vegas lights, she fell asleep.

Rowan jerked awake, with no idea how much time had passed. She pushed her hair back. She’d been dreaming about hearing that horrible roar echoing through the base.

She blinked groggily in the darkness and heard a noise.

Breathing.

Terror slid through her veins, bringing her to full wakefulness with a jolt. Was the thing here?

Rowan shook her head. The artifact was locked up in a secure base. Keeping still, she slowly turned her head and watched as a shadow moved by the bed across the room.

Then, flashes of light sparked in the room, accompanied by a muffled sound. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her body jerked. God. Gunshots with a silencer.

Her heart pounded in her chest like it was out of control. Being as quiet as she could, she slid off the couch and to the carpet. Her mouth was dry. Shit. Shit.

“She’s not here,” a voice muttered.

“Find her,” another deep, masculine voice said.

Rowan crawled across the floor. Where should she go? She spotted another big shadow standing by the front door. Dammit, she couldn’t get out that way. She detoured, heading toward the sliding doors leading to the balcony.

“Bag’s here. She must be here somewhere.”

“Maybe she’s down in the casino?”

She made it to the glass door and reached up slowly. If they looked this way, they’d see her silhouetted against the lights outside. She flicked open the lock. Slowly, she started edging the sliding door open, praying it wouldn’t make too much noise.

Suddenly, the bedroom was flooded with light.

“There she is!” a man shouted.

Rowan exploded up and out the door, banging her hip as she pushed through. The night air was cooler, but still felt warm to her. She ran down the long balcony.

And of course, there was nowhere to go. Shit. Shit. Shit. Luck was not on her side. It never was.

She glanced back and saw the three men pushing out the door. They were all holding guns.

Desperation thumping in her chest, she threw a leg over the railing. She looked down at the Aurora’s huge, glass casino roof below. It wasn’t far down and was flat. There were only a few balconies between hers and the roof. Looked like she was going for a climb.

The loud sound of a gunshot. A bullet whizzed past her and she swallowed a scream.

She lowered herself, moving her feet to search for the balcony below. As she climbed lower, a hand grabbed around her wrist.

“Dr. Schafer, we aren’t going to hurt you.”

She looked up into a hard face. The man had heavy features and a jagged scar across one eyebrow.

“We just have questions about the artifact,” he said.

Ice slid into her veins. She saw in his flat, hazel eyes that he wasn’t telling her the truth. His eyes weren’t just cold and scary like Lachlan’s, they were completely soulless.

They’d shot at her bed. To incapacitate, maybe, but they obviously didn’t care if they hurt her.

And she knew they wouldn’t let her live.

She wriggled in his hold.

He cursed and lost his grip on her. Rowan fell and let out a little scream. She managed to grip the railing of the balcony below hers, her knees slamming against the wall. She ignored the burst of pain and kept climbing downward.

She heard shouts and looked up. The scarred man was aiming his gun at her.

Fuck. Rowan looked down at the gleaming roof just a few feet below her. She could see all the oblivious people enjoying the casino.

She let go and dropped, fear not even letting a scream past her lips. Bullets pinged off the glass below her.

Rowan hit the roof with a hard bang. She came up on all fours, gasping to catch her breath. Ignoring all the people far below, she crawled across the glass. It was slick under her hands and knees.

She glanced back. The men were following her and climbing down the balconies.

Shit. She looked forward. She needed a way off this roof. Now.

A warm breeze ruffled her hair and she kept moving. She glanced down and saw that people at the gaming tables below had noticed her. They were pointing up at her with shocked faces.

“Get her!” someone yelled behind her.

She looked back. The men were on the glass now. They were closing in, and weren’t crawling. They had their hands out to keep their balance as they jogged across the glass.

Pulse leaping, she kept moving. Then she reached the edge of the roof.

Oh, no. Rowan looked over the edge. Below, lay a huge pool area, with a glittering, lagoon-style pool.

There was nowhere to go.

Bile rose in her throat. And the bad guys were closing in.

LACHLAN LIFTED HIS BEER, sipping it as he sat on a stool at the bar at Griffin’s Sports Bar and Grill.

Seth leaned forward, ordering a serving of hot wings, and sipping his own beer. Axel was on the other side of him. The rest of the team were there as well, everyone decompressing. Griffin’s was their local hangout when they were off duty. It wasn’t fancy, but they liked it, and the best thing…barely any tourists.

But Lachlan still felt edgy. He had ever since he’d dropped Rowan at the Aurora Casino. She hadn’t looked back.

He definitely wasn’t thinking about that kiss. Fuck. He took another huge sip of beer.

“Rowan sure was something,” Axel drawled.

Lachlan’s fingers tightened on the bottle. He looked at Axel, who was giving him a knowing grin. He glanced at Seth, who was staring at him with a raised brow.

Blair leaned forward. “Saw you kissing her, Hunter.”

“Me too.” Axel’s grin widened. “Steamed up my glasses.”

“You don’t wear glasses,” Smith rumbled.

“Saw the way you looked at her.” Blair’s bi-colored eyes speared into Lachlan’s. His best friend had always gotten straight to the point. “I hope you didn’t give her your ‘I’m married to my job’ speech.”

Lachlan hunched his shoulders. “She’s gone, and I am married to my job.”

Blair shook her head, clearly frustrated.

Callie leaned back. “I liked her. Despite everything she went through, she held it together, no hysterics. Steady as a rock.”

“She’s smart and independent,” Lachlan said. “Had to be. Her parents forgot she existed most of the time.”

“Rough,” Seth murmured.

Lachlan stared blindly at the row of television screens over the bar, showing various sporting events. But he didn’t see the games. Instead, he saw Rowan’s face, with her big blue eyes and russet hair.

“I think mi amigo is realizing he was an idiot,” Axel mock-whispered to Blair.

Blair grunted and bit into her burger.

Then Lachlan’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out. It was Brooks.

He pressed it to his ear. “Don’t you sleep, Brooks?”

“Lachlan.”

The man’s tone made him straighten. He set his beer down on the bar with a crack. “What?”

“It’s on the police band. There’s an incident in progress at the Aurora Casino.”

Fuck. Lachlan pushed to his feet and glanced at his team. They all stood.

“Talk to me,” Lachlan ordered.

“There are reports of a red-headed woman out on the glass roof of the casino in her pajamas. She’s being chased by three armed men.”

“Fucking hell.” Lachlan saw his team stiffen. “We’re on our way.”

He snatched his keys off the bar. “Rowan’s under attack at the Aurora Casino. Let’s move.”

As he slammed out of the door, he didn’t have to ask if they were armed. His own SIG Sauer 226 was tucked in its holster.

Outside, his team jogged toward the black Suburban parked out front. Lachlan made his way to his Kawasaki Ninja. A calm coolness washed over him and his focus sharpened. He jumped on his bike and started it, revving the engine. The bike vibrated beneath him.

He roared out of the parking lot and onto the road. He left the SUV behind, zipping through the traffic. Soon, he turned onto South Las Vegas Boulevard, speeding toward the glass spire of the Aurora.

Be safe, Rowan. Hold on.

He dodged around several cars, and then spied the casino entrance. He turned, speeding across several lanes of traffic. He tore into the front entrance of the Aurora and pulled to a stop. Several police cruisers were screeching to a halt nearby.

Lachlan leaped off his bike and strode toward the front door. He followed the commotion into the main casino area. A crowd was gathered, looking up at the glass roof above.

He spotted her instantly. Rowan was kicking out at a man trying to grab her.

Bastards.

Lachlan sensed bodies closing in and saw his team had arrived.

“Axel and Seth, with me. We’re going out on the roof.”

Blair nodded. “Rest of us will be outside, and deal with crowd control.”

Lachlan nodded and looked for the nearest stairwell. He shoved open the door and then pounded up the stairs, Seth and Axel right behind him. He felt a heaviness in his chest he couldn’t quite ease.

He was going to make these assholes pay for scaring Rowan. And if she was hurt…

“There,” Seth said.

Lachlan shouldered out the door. There was a large terrace outside, with a bar and low seating areas clustered around. It looked out onto the glass roof just below. A crowd had gathered, leaning against the railing, staring at Rowan and her attackers struggling on the far side of the roof.

As they watched, Rowan kicked out at a man. He lunged for her and she jerked back.

Seth hissed.

“Ay, Dios mío,” Axel bit out.

Fuck, no. Lachlan watched in horror as Rowan slipped off the edge of the glass.

She fell, managing to grab the edge with one hand, dangling off the side of the building.

Fury burst through Lachlan—strong and raging. He pressed a hand to the rail and leaped over, pulling out his SIG at the same time.

“Lachlan! Fuck,” Seth called out.

Lachlan landed on the glass roof with a bend of his knees.

“Hey!” Above, he saw several security guards rushing toward them.

“I’ll take care of them,” Seth said. “Go.”

Axel leaped over the railing and landed beside Lachlan. He lifted his own Glock. Together, they jogged across the glass.

Lachlan focused on the first attacker, his jaw tight. The man didn’t hear him coming.

A swift kick sent the man tumbling. He hit the glass with a shout and started sliding. The other two men turned, lifting their weapons.

But Lachlan and Axel were ready. They both fired.

The gun flew out of the hand of one man. With a scream, he gripped his injured hand and fell to the glass.

The final man had ducked, dropping to his knees. Lachlan kicked the gun out of his hand. The man tried to run, but Lachlan grabbed his shirt with his prosthetic hand. He lifted the man up, dangling him off the glass. His eyes widened, and Lachlan noticed he had a scar on his eyebrow.

“What the fuck?” The man growled, kicking his feet.

“Who sent you?”

The man kept struggling. Lachlan shifted, holding the man over the side of the building.

“Who do you work for?” Lachlan asked.

The man’s face twisted, and he yanked something from his belt. Another gun.

Lachlan let him go. The man screamed as he fell.

“Lachlan.” Rowan’s voice was strained.

He dropped to his knees. Her white face looked up at him. He reached for her, but she was just out of reach.

“Hang on,” he said.

He went flat on his belly, leaning over the edge to get to her.

“I’m…slipping.” Panic flashed in her eyes.

“Hold on, dammit.” His fingers brushed hers.

But that’s when she lost her grip. Her fingers slipped and she fell.

“Lachlan!” she screamed.

Lachlan didn’t hesitate. He moved into a crouch and launched himself off the roof.

He slammed into Rowan midair, wrapping his body around hers.

“Lachlan.” Her arms and legs clamped onto him. The rush of the wind tore at them.

“I’ve got you.”

They hit the casino pool with a huge splash, the water closing over them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rowan came up sputtering. Lachlan wrapped an arm around her and yanked her to the edge of the pool.

She looked up. Holy cow. Her stomach rolled. They’d fallen a long way, and if he hadn’t grabbed her, she’d likely have landed on concrete.

If he hadn’t arrived, those men would have killed her.

Lachlan climbed out of the pool, pulling her with him with a flex of his arms. Water streamed off them both.

“Rowan?”

She blinked up at him. Water clung to his eyelashes. The man had really long eyelashes.

“Hey, stay with me.” He cupped her cheek. “You’re okay.”

That’s when she realized she was probably a little shocky. “I’m okay. Thanks to you.”

His fingers tightened on her. “Rowan—”

Blair materialized, looking pissed. “You both all right?” The woman touched Rowan’s arm.

“Hi, again.” Rowan pushed her water-soaked hair from her face.

Blair gave her a faint smile, then looked at Lachlan. “Plan?”

“We keep her safe. I want to know who these assholes are. Tomorrow, she’s coming back to base.”

Rowan cleared her throat. “Don’t I get a—”

Lachlan scowled down at her. “No.”

She glared at him. “Excuse me, but I was the one getting shot at.”

His face changed, his gold eyes glittering. She snapped her mouth closed, and almost took a step back. He looked three degrees beyond scary.

“Here.” Callie appeared, holding some pool towels.

Lachlan grabbed one and wrapped it around Rowan. That’s when she became aware that her drenched pajama tank was clinging to everything. She clutched the towel tighter.

“Whatever I have to do to keep you safe, I’ll do it,” he said, tone firm.

Rowan’s heart clenched. No one had ever said those words to her before.

Callie took another towel and covered the dead man on the concrete. “Police are coming. Let’s move.”

Rowan quickly looked away and Lachlan nudged her forward. They moved through the curious crowd, flanked by Blair and Callie. They skirted around the edge of the main casino and came out the front entrance. A second later, a black SUV pulled up at the curb. The door opened, and Rowan spotted Smith behind the wheel.

Axel and Seth materialized out of nowhere.

Rowan took one step toward the SUV, but Lachlan stopped her.

“Rowan’s with me tonight. I’ll get Brooks working on figuring out who did this, and report to the director. Blair, can you get her stuff?”

“Sure,” Blair replied. “What about the cops?”

“Call MacKade.”

Blair’s face didn’t change, but Rowan felt something shift in the woman’s demeanor. Behind her, Axel pressed his tongue to his teeth and studied his boots.

“Who’s MacKade?” Rowan asked.

Blair’s nose wrinkled. “An arrogant asshole.”

Lachlan made a sound. “A detective at the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police and our contact. Call him.”

“Fuck. Fine.” Blair stomped off, her blonde ponytail swinging.

Rowan had questions, but right now, her energy was flagging. She wanted to curl up and block out the world for a bit. “I need some chocolate.”

Axel grinned at her, and then Lachlan was pulling her away from the SUV. She frowned. Where were they going?

Lachlan stopped in front of a motorcycle. A sleek, modern-looking beast of a thing. He took the towel off her and tossed it over a low brick wall. Then he swung a long leg over and grabbed a helmet from the handlebars.

“I’m not getting on that,” she said.

Damn, he looked so good on it—tough and sexy.

“Yes, you are.” He looked at her, his eyes glittering again. “Someone tried to kill you tonight. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to end up dead, and I’m going to keep you alive. Now, get on the bike.”

She huffed out a breath. The man had dived off the building for her. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle like this before.”

His face softened the tiniest fraction. “I’ll take care of you.”

Rowan was starting to believe that. She gingerly climbed on behind him and he settled the helmet on her head. She tried not to focus on the fact that she was braless, in tiny pajama shorts, and no shoes.

A moment later, the bike’s engine vibrated to life beneath her.

“Hold on,” he said.

Rowan felt a strange thrill and wrapped her arms around him. She’d been on a motorbike before, but it had been a rattling death trap that they’d used on a jungle research trip in Central America.

This bike was nothing like that.

He took off, the bike zooming forward. She tightened her hold, pressing into him until she was plastered against his muscled back.

It didn’t take long for the warm wind to dry her wet clothes. They zipped through traffic, and a new energy filled her. This rocked. There was nothing but Lachlan and the wind on her skin.

He weaved in and out of cars, and soon they entered a more residential area not far from the Strip. It wasn’t fancy, but not rundown, either.

He slowed down in front of a nice condo building, and a second later they drove into an underground parking lot. He parked the bike, and reached back and took her helmet.

His gaze locked on her. “You okay?”

She blinked. “I think so. Uh, I’d love another ride sometime.”

The faintest smile touched his mouth before he took her hand and helped her off. He led her toward the elevator. Before she knew it, he was leading her down a carpeted hallway and into his condo.

As he flicked lights on and tapped a code on a fancy security system, Rowan looked around with interest. The place screamed “man lives here.” He had dark-stained wooden floors. A huge, black-leather sofa faced an enormous television. Off to one side was a galley kitchen with granite counters and shiny appliances, and a cool wall covered in shiny silver metal. The appliances didn’t look like they got much use. Lachlan didn’t strike her as the cooking type. Cart a rifle around, no problem, but probably not a spatula.

He grabbed her hand again, and this time, tugged her down the hall and into a bedroom.

Rowan sucked in a breath. The bed was huge and covered in a forest-green cover. Lachlan moved to a chest of drawers, opening one. He turned and handed her a T-shirt.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“We will.” He touched a strand of her still-damp hair. “After you shower and change. You’ve had a rough night, on top of a rough few days.”

He turned her and nudged her toward the adjoining bathroom. Then he stalked out.

He was still looking out for her. Her fingers brushed the soft fabric of the T-shirt. She’d almost been killed—more than once, in fact—and her parents hadn’t even returned her calls. But Lachlan had come to her and jumped off a building for her.

In the bathroom, Rowan looked in the mirror. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her partly dried hair was a tangled mess. She flicked on the shower inside the big glass enclosure. When she stepped under the hot water she stifled a moan. It felt like heaven.

Lachlan only had a simple bottle of multi-purpose shower gel. It would have to do. After she’d washed her hair and rinsed herself, she toweled off and grabbed her discarded pajamas and panties. She rinsed off the chlorine smell and threw them over a railing to dry.

Then she pulled on Lachlan’s T-shirt. It was huge and dwarfed her. At least it fell low enough that it covered up the fact she had no panties to wear. The shirt had the Marines emblem on the front—the eagle, globe, and anchor. She fingered the soft material again, trying not to imagine it resting against Lachlan’s hard chest.

When she headed out into the living room, she found him leaning against the countertop, drinking coffee. He obviously had a second bathroom, as he’d showered and changed as well. His jeans were a step beyond worn and white at the seams. His black T-shirt clung to tight muscles, the sleeves cutting into his biceps.

Her mouth went dry. Down, girl.

He held up a mug. “For you.”

The scent of hot chocolate hit her and with a groan, she took it. She didn’t care if it was the middle of the night. Any time your life was a mess was the right time for chocolate.

His gaze moved over her slowly, taking his time.

Rowan’s skin tingled. When his gaze met hers, his eyes were filled with something hot and satisfied.

She perched on a stool and turned in his direction, tugging the hem of the shirt to make sure everything was covered. “What happened tonight?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

She dragged in a breath. “I was asleep on the couch and woke up. I heard someone in my room. They…they…”

Lachlan grabbed her hand.

His touch steadied her. “They shot at the bed with a silenced handgun.”

His fingers clenched on hers and she saw a muscle tick in his jaw.

“They just signed their death warrants.”

“Lachlan!”

His lips firmed. “Go on.”

“I crawled to the balcony door and got out. I climbed down. One of them, the guy with a scar on his eyebrow, said they just wanted to ask me some questions about the artifact.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t believe them.”

“Smart.”

“I got to the glass roof and they chased me. You know the rest. So? What’s going on?”

“One of those bad guys I mentioned to you on the jet-copter entered the game.”

Her stomach clenched. “Spell that out for me.”

“They want the artifact, and they want to know what it does. Likely, they would have tortured you to get the information they wanted, and then killed you.”

God. Rowan slumped forward, goose bumps breaking out on her skin.

Then Lachlan was there, nudging her knees apart and moving between them. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, Rowan. I promise.”

She stared into his handsome but scary face. She believed him. Lachlan had always kept his promises, even as a kid. And from what she could tell, he’d grown into a man who kept them, as well.

His fingers kneaded her shoulders. “I will protect you.”

She nodded, absorbing the warmth of him. It would be so easy to lean on him, depend on him.

“Time for you to get some rest,” he murmured.

Yes, far too easy to lean on him. And then when he walked away, which she knew he would do, it would tear her open. Lachlan would protect her from the bad guys, but it was up to her to protect herself from him.

LACHLAN WOKE IN HIS BED, sunshine peeking through the curtains, and a warm, curvy body snuggled against him.

Actually, Rowan was plastered half over him, a slim leg thrown over his, and her hand nestled on his bare chest. She was still asleep, her face relaxed and her lashes dark against her cheeks.

He should never have hopped in the bed with her. Even now, his body throbbed at the closeness. After they’d talked last night, she’d crashed. She’d climbed into his bed, wearing only his shirt, and been out like a light.

He’d checked on her later, his own exhaustion dragging on him. She’d been restless, clearly struggling with unpleasant dreams. He’d touched her arm, and she’d reached for him.

“Stay,” she’d whispered.

Lachlan had slid in beside her, and she’d wrapped around him and settled.

Now, with the sunlight giving her skin a golden glow, he breathed deep. She smelled like his soap. In his head, he kept seeing her dangling from that roof, kept seeing her falling.

He tightened his hold on her. Fuck. He pulled her closer and she stirred, snuggling into him. Then she froze.

She looked up, blue eyes blinking at him

“What are you doing in this bed?” she asked.

“It’s my bed. And actually, you asked me to join you.”

They stared at each other.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. “I can’t process this right now. I’ve got bad guys after me, my friends are dead, my life has gone crazy.”

She looked like she was about to hyperventilate. “Take a breath, Rowan.”

As she did, her breasts rose and fell under her shirt. His shirt. She pushed at her cloud of dark red hair. Damn, she was gorgeous.

Then her hand moved across his chest and her gaze dropped to watch it. Now he saw something different appear in her eyes. She deliberately stroked his skin.

“You must have, like zero percent body fat.”

Lachlan’s cock stirred.

She touched where his prosthetic arm met his skin. “Ty made this for you, right? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

Lachlan nodded. “It’s experimental. It’s tied directly into my nerves and functions better than my other arm. Plus, it’s stronger, can react faster.”

Her gaze followed her fingers as she stroked the metal. The arm had some sensors, but he couldn’t really feel her touch.

“It still must have been hard to lose your arm,” she said quietly.

Screams echoed in his head. His fellow Marines and his own. The horrible pain. “Yeah.”

Her fingers stroked back up, showing no concern or disgust about his prosthetic. In fact, she looked fascinated. She caressed his chest again and now his cock went rock-hard. She kept stroking his chest, and now he definitely knew what was in her blue eyes—desire.

“Rowan—”

She stroked lower, her nails scratching over his abs. “I’ve never seen a man with a six-pack like yours before.” She looked closer. “Or rather an eight-pack.”

Lachlan curled up to sit. “Rowan.”

“I just want to forget everything, Lachlan. For a few damn minutes, I want to stop thinking.”

Before he could say anything, she leaped on him.

He caught her as she straddled him, and a second later, her lips smacked against his.

Damn. The last of his control slipped through his fingers like water. He opened his mouth and her tongue slid inside. Screw it. He kissed her back. She was so damn sexy, especially wearing only his T-shirt.

He ran his hands up her back and deepened the kiss. She moaned, her tongue sliding against his. He reversed his caress, stroking his hands down her body and cupping her ass.

“I love seeing you in my shirt.” His voice sounded like gravel.

“I love seeing you without a shirt.”

He rolled, pinning her beneath him. He pressed his hips to hers, his cock rubbing against her. That’s when he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties. Only the thin cotton of his boxer briefs separated them.

Rowan lifted her hips and let out a husky cry. “Yes.”

Lachlan bunched his hand in the shirt and started lifting it up. He was going to explore all that smooth skin.

His doorbell rang, followed by the thump of a fist on wood. Three sharp raps.

He froze and squeezed his eyes closed.

“No!” Rowan clutched at him. “Don’t stop.”

“That’s Blair. She was bringing your things over.” He glanced at the clock beside the bed and groaned. “We have a flight back to base in—” shit “—under an hour.”

Lachlan very reluctantly knifed off Rowan. She rolled off the bed, not meeting his gaze. “I’m going to shower.”

“Ro—”

“Heat of the moment.” She waved a hand at him, still not meeting his gaze. “I get it. You made it clear back at the base, and to be fair, you’re a risk I can’t afford.”

As she disappeared, Lachlan set his hands on his hips. What the hell did she mean by that? He stared at the closed door and wondered what the fuck he was doing.

He shook his head. Something had changed. Seeing her dangling off a building, her life in danger, had damn well changed everything.

He’d tried to push her away, but life had tossed them back together. She was in danger, and whatever the hell happened, he was going to keep her safe.

Lachlan heard the bell again, and quickly yanked on his jeans and a T-shirt. When he yanked open the door, his best friend looked at his face, then raised a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You have fucking bad timing.” He closed the door.

“I have excellent timing. Like the thirty or so times I’ve saved your ass in a firefight.”

Lachlan snorted. “Thirty, my ass.”

Blair handed him Rowan’s bag. “So, you and Rowan—?”

“Shut it and make some coffee.”

“Sure thing, sunshine.”

He dropped Rowan’s bag on the bed. The shower was still running, and images bombarded him. Sleek, slick skin. Wet, red hair.

When he headed back to the living room, Blair was in the kitchen making coffee.

His friend handed him a mug and looked like she was trying not to laugh at him. He was sipping the coffee when Rowan emerged. She was wearing jeans, a pale-blue shirt that matched her eyes, and her hair pulled up in a messy knot on top of her head. He reached over to pour another mug.

“Hi, Blair,” Rowan murmured.

Blair lifted her chin. “You okay?”

Rowan took the coffee that Lachlan handed to her. “Not really.”

Blair studied Rowan’s face and gave a short nod. “We’ll get you there.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Rowan looked at Lachlan.

“Time to get to the airport.”

Rowan was quiet for most of the drive. He drove them through a secure gate, nodding at the guards. He parked beside a nondescript hangar on a distant runway. When they exited the vehicle, Lachlan scanned the area, making sure no one was watching them.

He led Rowan into a small office area. Inside, a gorgeous blonde sat at the single desk.

“Morning, you guys.” She shot them a dazzling smile.

Rowan went still, blinking at the woman.

Lachlan had to admit that Kinsey was a bombshell and had a hell of a smile. “Rowan, this is Kinsey Beck. She takes care of things for us here in Vegas.”

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Rowan breathed.

Kinsey laughed and crossed her legs. “I was a wanna-be showgirl. I moved to Vegas, only to discover I wasn’t tall enough.” Her smile said she’d gotten over her shattered dreams. “Now I attempt to organize these badasses for a living.”

Axel and Seth appeared from a side door.

“Plane’s fueled,” Seth said.

“The pilots are ready to go,” Axel added.

“Where are Smith and Callie?” Rowan asked.

“Already at base,” Lachlan answered. “Callie wanted to check on Lars, and Smith avoids Las Vegas, if he can help it.”

Kinsey shook her head. “That mountain man is allergic to people.”

They made their farewells, and Lachlan led Rowan out the door. A sleek plane sat in the hangar.

As they climbed the stairs into the plane, he noticed Rowan still looked tired and worried. As his team boarded and settled into their seats, Lachlan sat beside her and grabbed her hand.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She gave him a small nod.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

The plane started taxiing.

She sighed. “I will be. I always am.” She gave him a strained smile. “I’m good at dealing with stuff and coming out the other side. I’m used to it.”

She sounded so resigned and so alone.

“You need to talk to your folks again?”

“No, they’re busy,” came the measured reply.

Anger shot through him.

“I’m sure they’ll send me an email when they can.”

Fuckers. He’d always hated her self-absorbed parents, but their only daughter had almost died, and they couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck? Rowan might be used to dealing with things herself, but not this time.

CHAPTER NINE

Rowan followed Lachlan and the rest of Team 52 back into the Area 52 base. As they headed toward the lab, she once again looked around in wonder.

The place really was a scientist’s dream workspace.

As they entered the lab, Ty Sampson looked up and scowled at them. From nearby, Brooks waved two fingers and smiled. Today his shirt had a picture of the Death Star on it and said “All about that base.”

Scans and high-res pictures of the artifact were displayed on the screens on the wall. Rowan’s mouth dropped open as she looked at them. Despite everything that had happened because of this artifact, she found herself fascinated by it.

Then she felt a flash of guilt. “Lars?”

“No change,” Brooks said, sympathetically.

Lachlan crossed his arms. “What have you found out about the artifact?”

Rowan’s gaze snagged on his muscled forearms. Instantly, she was back in Lachlan’s bed, wrapped up in him, kissing him. Jeez. Get a grip, Rowan. That had been a mistake. She needed to stay well clear of Lachlan Hunter.

“We’re still working on it,” Ty frowned. “The device appears to be part biological. It connects with the body and stimulates it, which in turn, increases strength, muscularity, ability to withstand cold temperatures.”

Brooks leaned forward. “It creates an armor-like casing around the person, made of ice.”

Ty nodded. “We’re theorizing that the Pre-Dorset people somehow engineered it to help their hunters adapt to the cold, and give them the ability to safely hunt larger sea creatures, like walrus and whales.”

Holy hell. Rowan dropped onto a stool. This was all so incredible. “So, the Pre-Dorset experimented with this, and by the time of the Dorset people, they’d stopped using bows and arrows and hunting smaller sea mammals…because they had this technology.”

“That’s the theory,” Ty said.

“But they didn’t even work metal.”

“Actually, Nat found some information on that,” Brooks said. “Seems there is evidence that the Dorset culture used and worked metal that they found from a meteorite, and tipped their spear blades with it.”

“You need to know that the way it appears to integrate with a host would make it hard to remove while a host is active,” Ty said.

Lachlan frowned. “It came off Lars easily. I just pulled it off.”

“But he was tranquilized and unconscious,” Rowan said.

Ty pressed his hands to the bench and nodded. “If the host is agitated, they’d be releasing hormones that would interfere with the artifact’s removal.”

“So the host needs to be unconscious or at least relaxed?” Rowan said.

Ty gave another nod.

Lachlan turned to Brooks. “And the guys who attacked Rowan?”

Rowan’s belly soured at the memory.

“I don’t know yet,” Brooks said. “They avoided the casino’s facial recognition system. I managed to get the police files courtesy of Detective MacKade. I should have something soon.”

Lachlan nodded, then he spun to face Rowan. “I have work to do.”

She shifted. “Is it okay if I see Lars?”

“Sure.”

When Rowan entered the hospital-like room off the lab, she felt as though a rock had lodged in her chest. Lars was resting in a bed, hooked up to various beeping machines. He looked so pale she could almost see through his skin.

She sat beside him, and wished she could see him give her that goofy smile again while he flexed his terrible flirting skills. She talked quietly to him, assuring him everything was going to be okay, when she really wasn’t sure if she was lying or not.

When the door opened and Brooks’ head appeared, Rowan had no idea how much time had passed.

“Ready for some lunch?” the man asked.

With a nod, Rowan followed Brooks into the rec room. Natalie was there, sitting at a bench, wearing another smart skirt in black and a red shirt. Her elegant legs were crossed, and she had a set of glasses perched on her nose. She had the sexy-librarian look perfected today.

The archeologist looked up. “Hi, Rowan.”

“Where is everyone?” Rowan asked.

“Training exercise.” Brooks waved to a stool and strode over to the glass-fronted refrigerator, pulling out some pre-packaged salads.

He handed one to Rowan and proceeded to douse his with Ranch dressing. Rowan forced down a few mouthfuls, but toyed with the rest of the food, too churned up to eat. Brooks and Natalie talked quietly.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. Rowan’s head snapped up as an older man with a buzz cut stormed in. He had a grizzled face and wore black fatigues.

His faded blue gaze locked on Rowan.

“Hey, Arlo,” Brooks called out.

The man made a harrumphing sound. Rowan blinked. Brooks and Nat didn’t even react to the strong, unhappy vibes emanating from the man.

“See you’re in your usual good mood.” Nat winked at Rowan. “Arlo, this is Dr. Rowan Schafer. Rowan, Arlo takes care of the warehouse here.”

“Ah, hello.” Rowan fixed a polite smile on her face. Those blue eyes were pinned on her, assessing.

“Heard Hunter jumped off a building for you.”

Rowan didn’t think Arlo sounded particularly happy about that fact. “Lachlan strikes me as the kind of guy who’d do that for anyone.”

Arlo made another grumpy sound. “Come on, you’re with me.”

“I am?” She shot a wide-eyed look at Nat and Brooks, who were grinning. They waved as she slipped off her stool.

Rowan followed the man out of the rec room and down the hall. Her mouth dropped open when she noticed the huge double doors to the warehouse were wide open.

The cavernous space was filled with row upon row of black shelves that rose all the way up to the ceiling, looming high above. Black boxes and crates, of all different shapes and sizes, rested on them. Everything was made of matte-black metal.

As they passed over the huge threshold, she took in the enormous, high-tech locking mechanism on the door. From what she could see, all the crates had fancy locking mechanisms on them as well.

Wow. “All these crates store dangerous objects and ancient technology?” She followed Arlo down one of the rows. He grunted, which she took as a yes.

“The crates all have state-of-the-art bio-locks on them.” His voice was a step beyond gravelly. “Only a few people can open them. Myself, Hunter, Mason, and the director.”

“Amazing.”

At the back of the warehouse, he pointed to a long bench pressed up against the wall. It was covered in tools, papers, and equipment.

“I hate paperwork.” He jabbed a finger at it. “You can help me.”

Rowan was too afraid to tell the crusty man no. Besides, something to keep her busy wasn’t exactly unwelcome.

As she started sorting through the files, he picked up a tool and started to work on one of the black cases. It was empty, and it appeared he was repairing it.

Flicking through the files, she glanced at the paperwork. Most of them were filled with notations and test results for various objects. The majority of the files were identified with numbers and codes, and she wondered what the objects all were, and where they’d come from.

Arlo finished work on his crate, and she watched as he settled an object into the box. The metallic artifact looked like something from a king’s treasury. It was a small club, with what looked like claws at either end.

“What’s that?”

She didn’t expect him to answer. “Vajra.” He slammed the lid shut and pressed his thumb to the pad on the front. There was a beep, followed by the sounds of locks spinning.

Vajra? It sounded Indian. “What’s it do?”

“Nothing good.”

Before she could ask anything else, a siren started blaring.

Arlo’s head whipped up, and pretty fast for an older guy, he rushed toward the door. Rowan followed, sprinting down one of the rows.

“What’s going on?”

Arlo didn’t reply.

They burst out of the warehouse. The siren was louder and red emergency lights were blinking. What the hell?

Across the room, the elevator doors opened, and Lachlan and his team strode out. They were all wearing black fatigues and holding their rifles.

“Status?” Lachlan demanded.

“What’s going on?” Rowan said again.

Brooks ran out of the corridor, his face set in hard lines. Ty was right behind him, looking like a thundercloud about to let loose.

“The Dorset artifact,” Ty said. “It’s gone.”

LACHLAN WAS MAD AS HELL. “GONE?”

Ty rubbed a hand over his short hair. “It was in the lab, and now it’s not.”

Lachlan swung his rifle up on his shoulder. “What happened?”

A dark look settled on Ty’s face. “I saw it about twenty minutes ago. Damn thing was on the bench, then I went into my office to study some scans.”

Lachlan swiveled to Brooks. “You access the lab entry records?”

Brooks nodded. “I was monitoring comms for your training session when Ty alerted me, and I activated the alarm. I checked the records and security feed. No intruders.”

Of course. Lachlan knew there was no way in hell anyone accessed the base. This had to be an inside job. Fuck.

“Several airmen security guards were in and out of the lab.” Brooks scowled. “Camera was deliberately covered when the artifact went missing, and there are three airmen who could be responsible.”

Lachlan shook his head. “Dammit.”

“The guards had shift change fifteen minutes ago,” Brooks added.

Lachlan cursed. Whoever was responsible had timed it well. “When’s the next flight to Vegas?”

“Taking off now.”

“Ground them.”

“I already tried. Something is blocking communications with the plane. My guess, the perpetrator has a device that is disrupting the signal. They’ll switch it off once they’re out of range.”

Fuck. “Fine. We’ll take the X8 and meet the plane when it lands. The three guards, run them. Look for any strange activity, especially financial.”

Seth stepped forward. “You think whoever attacked Rowan got to someone here at base?”

“Yeah.” Lachlan saw the worry on Rowan’s face.

Soon, they were all crowded into Brooks’ computer room. The small space was covered in screens, one huge one on the wall at the front, and the rest were smaller ones filled with security feeds. There was a center counter, and Lachlan leaned against it as Brooks’ fingers danced over his tablet.

This was Brooks’ domain. The former Naval Intelligence officer was magic with a computer.

“Okay, here are the three airmen.” Brooks motioned at the big screen, and three pictures of people in Air Force uniforms appeared. “These people were all on duty, accessed the lab, and are now on the plane to Vegas. They’ve all had large funds placed into their personal accounts in the last few days.”

One was a young man with a fresh face, while the other two looked more experienced. Which one was a traitor?

“You track the money?” Lachlan asked.

“Working on it. Airman Jacks is out.” Brooks tapped his tablet, and the young man’s picture disappeared. “He just came into some inheritance money from a deceased uncle.” Brooks blew out a breath. “The other two are trickier. The money came from offshore accounts.”

Lachlan rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Anyone with family issues? Debts? Gambling problems?”

“Airman Romano is happily divorced and has kids in college. His oldest just got married.”

College was expensive, but Lachlan didn’t think that was enough to make a man turn traitor. “And Airman Kowalski?” He’d met the woman a few times and found her good at her job.

Brooks’ face changed. “Sick kid. Her teenage daughter has Hepatitis C and needs a liver transplant.”

Someone swore.

“Just pulled the records,” Brooks said. “Looks like her daughter fell in with a bad crowd and had a drug addiction. Contracted Hepatitis from sharing needles, and by the time she was diagnosed, her liver was damaged. Kowalski and her husband have big medical bills.”

Lachlan cursed. Whoever the bastards were who wanted the artifact, they’d preyed on a desperate woman. “Confirm that she got the money for stealing the artifact. We need to get back to Vegas and intercept. Brooks, find out who we’re dealing with.”

The man nodded. “On it.”

Lachlan looked at his team. “Let’s go.”

Rowan stepped forward, and Lachlan shook his head. “You stay here where you’ll be safe.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but she finally nodded. “Be careful.”

As his team moved out, Lachlan gave into the urge and yanked Rowan close. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

Her eyes widened, and he noticed Brooks grinning and Arlo scowling. Then, he spun and marched out.

Soon, he was in his usual seat as the X8 lifted off. He checked his watch again. As it stood, they would land at the same time as the plane. Once they were airborne, he rose and moved forward. Seth and Blair sat at the controls.

“So…the lovely Dr. Schafer?” Seth drawled over his shoulder.

“Shut it,” Lachlan said.

“I like her,” Blair said. “She doesn’t fall apart when things go wrong, and I also like the way you look at her.”

Lachlan frowned. He wasn’t aware he looked at her in a certain way. Well, except the “want-to-get-her-naked way” but he was sure Blair wasn’t talking about that.

Seth shook his head. “Our work isn’t really conducive to relationships. Actually, relationships in general are best avoided. People always screw you over in the end.”

Blair made a noise. “God, you are the least trusting person I know.”

“Hazard of the job.”

“Just because you waded through shark-infested, dirty waters for the CIA for too long doesn’t mean everyone is out to bite you in the ass, Lynch.”

Seth lifted a shoulder.

Blair met Lachlan’s gaze. “She looks at you like she can’t quite believe you’re real.”

“She deserves better,” Lachlan said.

Blair’s face twisted in anger. “You stop that right now. You aren’t your fucking father, Lachlan.”

Seth was quiet a second. “You’re one of the best men I know.”

Emotions rose in Lachlan and he ground his teeth together. He knew better than anyone that he could turn into what his father had been.

Axel appeared beside Lachlan. “She’s pretty and smart. If you’re not interested, Hunter, I’ll ask her out.” Axel shot them all a lazy smile.

Lachlan felt a nasty twist in his gut and glared at Axel. When they all laughed, Lachlan was done.

“We have a job to do,” he said. “How about we focus on that?”

Blair touched the controls. “Message from Brooks. He’s identified the guys who attacked Rowan. They work for the Red Wolves. Some sort of paramilitary group out to save the country from politicians.”

Lachlan shifted. “Never heard of them.”

“Real whack-jobs,” Blair said. “Capable of killing. They took some people hostage in Texas last year and made a real mess. Two civilians were killed.”

Great. Mess was the last thing they needed. It meant innocent people would get hurt.

“Looks like Treasure Hunter Security had a run in with some of the Red Wolves when they were doing security for an Ancestral Puebloan dig in New Mexico last year. Brooks thinks THS might have more info.”

Treasure Hunter Security was a security company out of Denver specializing in providing security for archeological digs and expeditions. It was owned by the Ward family and they’d crossed paths with Team 52 a couple of times. While they weren’t enemies, they weren’t exactly friends either.

“I’ll give Declan Ward a call later,” Lachlan said.

“Brooks also said the Red Wolves have an online following, and like making a lot of noise and big gestures,” Blair added.

Lachlan frowned, something niggling at him. “Blackmailing the mother of a sick kid doesn’t sound like them. Too subtle.”

“Could be they’re branching out?” Seth suggested. “And once they have the artifact, they’ll make a mess.”

Maybe. Lachlan needed more intel on the Red Wolves. But right now, his first priority was recovering the artifact.

CHAPTER TEN

As the plane touched down on the tarmac, Rowan jerked awake. She turned her head and looked out the window.

They were back in Las Vegas.

She stared at the distinctive line of garishly lit casinos. She had the absurd thought that the Team 52 guys had the oddest commute.

“Ready?” Natalie leaned forward in the seat beside Rowan. She was smiling, but looked tense. There had been no update before they’d left the base.

Since the artifact had been stolen and Team 52 had left, the vibe around the base had not been good—and that was putting it mildly. When the plane finished taxiing and stopped, she followed Natalie down the steps and onto the tarmac. She straightened at the sight of Lachlan and Callie standing by a black SUV, wearing civilian clothes.

The change of outfit didn’t soften them a single bit. They still radiated badass vibes.

Rowan’s gaze locked on Lachlan. He looked so good in his faded jeans and, this time, a tight, gray T-shirt. He also looked really unhappy.

“Did you get the artifact?” Rowan asked.

Lachlan’s mouth flattened. “No.”

Her chest tightened. “What?”

“We intercepted the plane just as it landed, but Airman Kowalski got away.”

“How?” Nat asked.

“We found an emergency door open at the back of the plane,” Callie said. “She somehow snuck off.”

“Oh, no.” All Rowan could think about was that the artifact was out there, somewhere. And that someone with very bad intentions wanted to use it.

For a second, she was back at the research base, the horror of the attack shuddering through her. Right at this moment, she better understood the importance of the work Team 52 did.

“The others are out searching,” Lachlan continued. “Smith is a hell of a tracker, and Seth is good at asking questions and finding things.”

Rowan nodded. “So, if the bad guys have the artifact, they won’t be interested in me, right?”

Lachlan straightened. “I’m not taking any risks with your life.”

His deep voice had warmth igniting in her belly. No one had really cared for her before. Her parents had made sure she was fed and educated, but that was about it. She’d bandaged her own skinned knees since she’d started school.

“Okay,” she said.

He leaned down, cupping her jaw. “Likely the focus is off you, but I’m not taking any chances. Now, I need to get back out there with the team. You’re staying with Natalie.”

Rowan looked at the archeologist, who was grinning at them. Callie was pretending to stare off across the runways, but she was smiling too.

Natalie winked. “Looks like I’m your tour guide and bodyguard.”

Rowan raised her eyebrows. “You can fight in those heels?”

The woman’s smile widened. “I can do anything in these heels.”

Lachlan drove them to Natalie’s place, pulling up in front of the MGM Grand Casino.

Rowan swiveled to look at the archeologist. “You live in a casino?”

“Sure do. Twenty-four-hour room service, and someone else does all the cleaning. Besides, if I want some nightlife, it’s right out my front door.” Nat smiled. “There’s an amazing magic show on ice that’s on right now.”

Lachlan led them into a tower that Nat explained was only for residents. They traveled up in the private elevator. The doors opened onto a stylish corridor lined by photographs of the desert. Nat led them into an apartment that was sleekly decorated, but accented with pops of color. There were gorgeous, hardwood floors with plush rugs, and, of course, a killer view. A huge vase of lilies dominated the black dining room table. It all suited Natalie.

Lachlan made them wait in the entry while he quickly cleared the apartment. “Nat, I need to use your secure line to make a call.”

“Sure.” The woman kicked off her heels and waved them into the living area. She grabbed a tablet and handed it to him.

Curious, Rowan watched from the side as Lachlan put a video call through. A moment later, a woman’s beautiful face appeared. Her dark hair was cut in a sleek bob that skimmed her jaw.

“Treasure Hunter Security.”

“I need to talk with Declan Ward,” Lachlan said.

The woman’s blue-gray eyes sharpened. “Who’s calling?”

“An ally. I’m acquainted with Special Agent Burke from the FBI Art Crime Team.”

Now, the woman’s eyes rolled. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Hang on.”

A triangular logo appeared on the screen, but a second later, it blinked off and a man who was clearly a male version of the woman who’d answered appeared.

“Ward,” the man said, his voice deep.

“Ward, my name is Lachlan Hunter.”

Ward stiffened. “Team 52. Recognize your voice.”

Lachlan inclined his head.

The man crossed his arms. “Still pissed at you about Africa.”

“Which mission?”

“Both of them.”

Lachlan smiled. “Then it’s lucky me and my team saved your ass in Antarctica.”

Antarctica? Rowan wondered what the hell a security company specializing in archeological digs was doing in Antarctica.

“Why are you calling me?” Ward demanded.

“I need any intel you have on the Red Wolves.”

Ward grimaced. “Out-of-control bastards with outlandish ideas on how they’re helping the country by committing domestic terrorism. Bunch of conspiracy theorists. The more bizarre the idea, the more likely they’ll believe it.”

Lachlan cursed under his breath.

“You have a run in with them?” Ward asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“We tangled with them on a dig in New Mexico. They were after some artifacts. Not much thought goes into their plans. They’re messy, lack control and training, and their leadership is more concerned with themselves.”

“So they’re unlikely to act behind the scenes, or take a more subtle approach?’

“They wouldn’t know subtle if it stood in front of them and dropped its pants.”

Lachlan nodded. “Thanks, Ward.”

The man heaved out a breath. “Call me Declan.”

“Declan. And thanks.”

With a nod, Declan leaned forward and touched something. The screen went blank.

“So the Red Wolves probably didn’t bribe Airman Kowalski and steal the artifact,” Nat mused.

“I need to go.” Lachlan stood. “I’ll be back when I can.” He touched Rowan’s cheek, then strode away.

She watched him walk to the door, her gaze drifting down to where his jeans hugged his very fine ass. The door closed behind him.

“I’ve never seen Lachlan so…” Nat tapped a nail against her cheek. “Actually, I’ve never seen him with a woman, so I’ve never seen him like this at all.”

“Oh?”

“The man is a workaholic.” Nat detoured to the kitchen. She reached up and pulled out a bottle of red wine, then found some glasses.

“Lachlan was the most important thing in my life when I was ten.” Rowan dropped onto the suede couch. “He listened. Truly listened. And he cared.”

Nat handed her a glass of wine and sat. “He still does. I know he’s been through a lot. Force Recon doesn’t get the air time that the Navy SEALs do, but they’re just as skilled and their missions are just as dangerous.”

“They do similar stuff to the Navy SEALs?”

Nat nodded. “Although they tend to be stealthier about it. Force Recon focuses on intelligence gathering, usually deep into enemy territory. They also specialize in unconventional special operations.”

Rowan felt a lick of discomfort. “What’s that mean?”

“I have no idea, but I know it’s dangerous, and Lachlan was very good at it.”

And while doing it, he’d hardened, and he’d lost his arm. “I can tell.”

“So good that even after he was injured and discharged, Jonah recruited him for Team 52.” Nat leaned back. “Ty gave Lachlan his high-tech arm.”

“And Blair’s eye is a prosthetic.”

Nat nodded. “All the team suffered various injuries that ended their military careers. They have scars—some more visible than others.”

Rowan looked at her wine. “He scares me now. I mean, I know he’d never hurt me physically, but…”

“Emotionally?”

“He wouldn’t mean it, but yes. I can feel he holds himself back.” Rowan lifted her gaze. “I’ve lived with that all my life, my parents are…distant. I want more.”

“He’s different with you,” the archeologist said quietly.

Time to change the subject. “How did you come to join Team 52?”

“I was working at Stanford.” Nat crossed her legs. “I specialized in studying various ancient cultures, but had a focus on megalithic prehistory.” She smiled. “I posted some…controversial theories under a pen name on a blog. I couldn’t have the conservative halls of academia finding out that I had some queries over strange artifacts and sites. I’d seen facts and dates that didn’t match up with the accepted theories and timelines on how civilization on our planet had evolved. Jonah discovered it and made me a job offer. It’s fascinating work.”

“The mysterious Jonah,” Rowan murmured.

“Now there is one gorgeous man…who scares the pants off me,” Nat said. “Thankfully, he’s an excellent boss.”

Suddenly, the sound of smashing glass echoed from the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Rowan leaped to her feet, heart pounding. Nat jumped up, set her glass down on the side table, and yanked open a drawer. She pulled out a handgun.

“Stay here.” The archeologist’s face was set in serious lines, and she held the gun with ease.

But she’d only taken two steps when the sound of something rolling made them both freeze. A metal object tumbled across the sleek floor.

Rowan stepped back. Bang.

Piercing noise. Flashes of light.

Bang. Smoke filled the air.

Her ears were ringing and she heard shouting, but it was muffled. Her eyes stung.

Rowan stumbled forward. She couldn’t see Nat, only gray smoke. Then she heard another sound.

God, were those gunshots?

Heart in her throat, Rowan staggered through the smoke, trying to find Nat. Suddenly, hands grabbed her from behind and lifted her off her feet. She kicked out, tears running down her face.

She was spun around violently, coming face-to-face with a big man wearing a red balaclava.

Not good. Rowan fought harder, kicking and trying to get her arms free. The smoke was just starting to clear.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something on the ground. A slim body. Oh, no, it was Nat. She was slumped on the rug, not moving.

“No!” Rowan kicked out, catching the man between the legs. He went down with a groan.

Spinning, she aimed for the door. She had to call Lachlan. Arms grabbed her again, and she found herself tossed up and over someone’s hard shoulder.

“Let me go!” she shouted.

Someone else stepped closer, and a dark cloth bag was pulled over her head, cutting off the light.

“Quiet,” a low voice filled with menace said. “Or I’ll put a bullet in you.”

Rowan bit her lip as she was carried out of Nat’s apartment. Shit.

ROWAN FOUND herself tossed in the back of what she guessed was an SUV. She yanked the bag off her head, and thankfully, no one complained.

Two men, faces hidden by red balaclavas, slid into the front seats. Out the windshield, she saw two other men dressed the same way get into a gunmetal gray sedan in front of them.

She quickly scanned the interior of the vehicle. All the windows were tinted and there were no door handles, no buttons, or handholds of any kind. The engine roared to life, and the two vehicles abruptly pulled out onto the road. Rowan was thrown back against the seat.

God, please let Nat be okay. Rowan’s stomach was rolling and she fought back her panic. Her eyes were still watering, stinging from whatever was in the grenade.

They sped down the busy Strip, the casinos whizzing past. Rowan cautiously ran her hands over the doors, hoping to find some way to open them. Nothing.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Where are we going?”

The men ignored her. Dammit.

Think, Rowan. They get you far away from here, and you’re dead. Then, through the windshield, she spotted two black Suburbans speeding toward them.

It had to be Team 52. And they were about to speed past, with no idea that she was in here.

In about four seconds, Team 52 was going to be gone, and she’d end up somewhere very bad.

She didn’t think, she just knew she had to do something.

Rowan dived through the gap between the front seats and leaped on the driver.

She tried to grab the wheel. She’d surprised the driver enough that he swerved wildly. Curses filled the cab, and ahead, she saw brake lights flash on at the back of the sedan.

She grabbed the man’s balaclava and yanked on it.

More curses filled the air, and they almost rear-ended the sedan. The driver slammed on the brakes, and Rowan gripped on to the man to keep from flying into the windshield.

The man in the passenger seat grabbed at Rowan. She struggled, trying to hit him. Then the driver moved, elbowing her in the head.

Pain exploded through her face and, with a cry, Rowan slumped back in the seat, cradling her left eye. Ow.

“Sit fucking still.” The driver snapped at her, his balaclava askew. His face was surprisingly handsome in a strong-jawed, boy-next-door way.

The passenger swiveled and aimed a gun at her. “Do as he says, or I will shoot you.”

She glared at him. The driver righted himself, muttering more curses. He grabbed the wheel, and the vehicle jerked forward again.

They picked up speed, pulling back into traffic. Then the driver looked in the rearview mirror. “Motherfuckers.”

Rowan spun and her pulse leaped.

Two black SUVs were bearing down on them. Fast.

Rowan decided to strap in and clipped her seatbelt closed. The driver sped up, weaving wildly in and out of traffic. She heard horns honking and saw cars swerve out of their way.

The gray sedan moved alongside them and she watched the men in it signal her driver. Then it fell back, drawing closer to the lead Team 52 SUV.

God, what now? She saw the sedan’s windows lower, and guns were aimed at the black SUVs.

No. Her chest locked. Gunfire cracked through the air, and the SUV dodged. But what they didn’t do was slow down. They were still gaining speed.

Then, she spotted Blair hanging out one window, face composed, returning fire.

That’s when Rowan saw the second black SUV roaring forward. Her eyes widened. It was going to—

It rammed into the back of the sedan. The sound of screeching tires and more honking horns followed the crunch of metal on metal. The sedan veered into the median in the center of the road, and crashed into a palm tree.

“Fuck!” Rowan’s driver bit out.

“Keep going,” the passenger yelled. “Faster.”

Rowan looked back. Blair was still hanging out a window, firing at them.

Suddenly, Rowan’s SUV swerved, and the driver’s curses got damn creative.

“They hit a tire!” the driver yelled.

“Keep going. There’s more traffic ahead. Blend in.”

No. That was a terrible idea.

The driver turned sharply, tires squealing. They sped into the other lane, and Rowan was jerked against her belt.

They roared closer to the cluster of traffic ahead. The driver weaved in and out of cars and trucks. Vehicles swerved, and more horns honked.

Oh, God. They were going to crash.

Team 52 was right behind them and suddenly, the crumpled silver sedan rejoined the chase.

It sped recklessly toward one black SUV, with Blair still firing from the side. But as it drew alongside, Blair ducked back inside, and the SUV jerked toward the car.

It rammed into the side of the sedan. The car veered off the road. It bumped over a curb, and crashed into the driveway of the casino before smashing into a fountain. Water sprayed everywhere.

“Yes!” Rowan grinned.

The passenger swiveled and shot her a dirty look. She glared back.

“Shit,” the driver said.

Rowan looked up and saw a slow-moving RV right in front of them. The driver jerked the wheel to avoid it.

It swung them right up alongside one of the Team 52 SUVs.

Rowan saw Blair in the passenger seat, and Lachlan at the wheel.

She pressed her lips together. They’d come for her again. He’d come for her.

The other SUV pulled in close behind them.

Suddenly, the traffic cleared. Lachlan’s vehicle roared forward and then swung in front of them.

The SUV’s taillights flashed on.

Oh, shit. She braced herself, and heard the driver swear. They rear-ended the black SUV with a crunch of metal and breaking glass.

Rowan was tossed hard against her belt.

The man in the passenger seat wasn’t strapped in. He sailed through the windshield. The driver’s air bag went off with a bang. She heard him groaning.

Rowan’s ears were ringing again, and she shook her head a little to try and clear it.

Suddenly, the doors were yanked open. She watched the airbag deflate, and the driver was pulled out of the vehicle.

Her door opened, and she blinked up at Lachlan. He reached in, unlatching her belt.

“Okay?” His face was set in hard lines, those gold eyes extremely pissed off.

She nodded as he helped her out. As soon as she was vertical, her knees gave way. Lachlan scooped her into his arms, and she held onto him.

“You’re not okay,” he muttered.

She slid her arm along his shoulders. “I am now.” Then she passed out.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lachlan paced his living room, watching Callie check Rowan over. She had an ugly bruise and swelling forming on the left side of her face.

Heat roared through him. One of those bastards had hit her. She was lucky she didn’t have a concussion or a broken cheekbone.

He’d just returned from dropping the men they’d captured off in the secure bunker beneath their hangar at the airport. They’d attempted to question the driver of the vehicle, but the man wasn’t talking. Lachlan had left him in Seth’s capable hands. The man was a hell of an interrogator.

“All clear.” Callie stood, pushing things back into her backpack.

Rowan attempted a smile. “Thanks, Callie.”

The medic reached out and gripped her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. From his seat on the couch, Axel leaned forward and patted Rowan’s leg.

“You rocked out there, chiquita.”

Lachlan frowned. “I think she’s been touched enough, Diaz.”

Axel lifted his hand and shook his head. From nearby, Blair tried unsuccessfully to hide her laugh.

“And you’re sure Nat is okay?” Rowan asked, concern on her face.

“She’s fine,” Callie assured her. “Pissed, but fine.”

“She alerted us as soon as her apartment was breached,” Lachlan said.

Axel muttered under his breath. “If she hadn’t leaped into the fight like a warrior princess, she might not have gotten conked on the head.”

Rowan tucked her hands into her lap. “These people need to be stopped. They don’t care who gets hurt and if they get their hands on the artifact…”

“Rowan—”

She stood, shaking her head at Lachlan. She turned, her hair whipping around. “I am sick and tired of being hunted down like a dog.” Her gaze met Lachlan’s, filled with quiet determination. “I saw the havoc that artifact wreaked. I won’t let it happen again. I am not going to cower and hide. I want to help you find it.”

“For now, you stay where I can protect you.” Lachlan didn’t explain to her exactly what kind of enhanced security his apartment had, but he knew she’d be safe here. Brooks had decked out the place with enough layers to ensure no one was getting in. He made a mental note to have him do the same to Nat’s place.

Rowan thrust her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to hide away and do nothing—”

“I don’t want you hurt.”

“And I don’t want more innocent people hurt.” She set her shoulders back. “I have several degrees, including a PhD. I can help you.”

Lachlan knew she was smart, but this was about keeping her alive. He cupped her jaw. “Rowan, if something happened to you…” Fuck, he was starting to realize he couldn’t stand that. How could she get so far under his skin in such a short time?

She stared at him. “No one’s ever cared if something happened to me. I’ve never been important to anyone.”

“Your damn parents made you feel that way,” he bit out. “That’s on them, not you, Rowan.”

“I always just thought that maybe I’m defective.”

“I care.”

Her eyes were huge as she stared at him.

“I don’t want you anywhere near this artifact or the people who are after it.”

She shook her head, like she was trying to clear it. “Please let me help. I need to help, for my people who died at Ellesmere. I trust you to keep me safe while I do.”

He stared into her blue eyes and realized how much she needed this. Some control back in this out-of-control situation.

“You can work with us and Brooks.”

She smiled.

“We need to find out more about the Red Wolves, who else is involved, and who has the artifact.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m out of here,” Callie said.

Rowan jerked, like she’d just remembered there were other people in the room. Lachlan sighed and looked at his team members. Yep, grinning like loons.

Callie headed for the door. “Get some rest, Rowan.”

Axel and Blair followed. His second-in-command caught Lachlan’s eye. “If I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

“See you guys in the morning.” Once the door closed, Lachlan checked the security system was up and running. Then, he moved back to where Rowan sat on the couch, and knelt in front of her. He gently touched the swelling on her face.

“I’m okay,” she said quietly. “Not even a headache.”

“You threw yourself on the driver.”

“I knew if they got away, I was dead.”

Dead. Fuck. The word reverberated inside Lachlan’s head, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He pulled her into his chest and she clung to him.

“Why don’t you have a shower?” he suggested. “I’ll take care of dinner.”

She glanced up at him. “You cook?”

“Nope.”

When she blinked, he smiled. “But I can order takeout like a pro.”

Now she laughed. It sounded tired, but it was a laugh. “Okay.”

After she’d wandered off toward his bedroom, Lachlan ordered Chinese from his usual place—one that he’d had vetted and where he knew all the delivery guys—and tried not to imagine Rowan naked in his shower.

He’d brewed some coffee by the time she returned. Her hair was wet and loose, and she was wearing the black robe he had hanging in his bathroom. A gift he’d never worn.

He handed her a mug and nudged her toward the couch.

“Thanks.” She wrapped both hands around the coffee and sipped. “I’m going to make you some of my special-blend of hot chocolate soon. Once you taste it, it’ll be all you want.”

“Never grew out of your chocolate addiction, huh?”

Her eyes looked over her mug. “Nope. I’ve honed it. Wait until I make you my brownies or my home-made chocolate pralines. The health benefits of chocolate are huge. Good source of antioxidants, can lower blood pressure and risk of heart disease, increase brain function.”

He laughed.

She kept staring. “You should do that more often.”

He tilted his head. “What?”

“Laugh.”

He dragged in a breath. “I guess I haven’t had much to laugh about for a long time.” The robe clung to her curves, and Lachlan tried to talk himself out of noticing. Dammit, she’d been hurt. She’d had a really rough few days.

But the desire—strong and unstoppable—hit him hard.

He’d almost lost her today. She’d just barely come back into his life, and—more than once—she’d almost been snatched away. Who the fuck knew what the assholes would have done with her? Lachlan had seen enough shit in his career to know it wouldn’t have been pretty.

His mouth pressed into a flat line. If they came for her again, he’d make them hurt. She was his to keep safe. Even if he had to lock her in his room at the base until this was over.

She looked up at him, her eyes widening. “Lachlan? Are you okay?”

“No.”

He stalked toward her, and she hastily set the mug on the coffee table.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked.

“Hell, no.” He knelt down in front of her again, but this time, he pushed her knees apart and moved closer.

Her robe parted a little, giving him a view of smooth, bare legs. They were slender and toned, and his cock surged.

“Hey.” She gripped the belt. “I’m naked under here.”

He froze. Now, his cock pressed hard against his zipper. He wrapped his hands around her calves and took a deep breath.

Her breathing became uneven. “Lachlan.”

His gaze met hers. She stared at him, straight and direct. Then slowly, he slid his hands up her legs. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and as he reached the edge of the robe, he pushed it higher.

“This is probably a bad idea,” she said.

“I think it’s an excellent idea.”

“You told me you didn’t have time for this. For me.”

“I lied.”

Air whistled through her teeth. “You said you had nothing to offer.”

“Changed my mind.”

“What?” Her voice rose. “You can’t just change your mind.”

“I can when I see you get kidnapped. When I see you dangling off a fucking building or diving on drivers of speeding vehicles.”

She licked her lips, her gaze warming. “Lachlan.”

“I need to see you.” He leaned closer, parting the robe farther. “I need to see that you’re okay.”

She fell back against the couch, and the robe fell open, baring her. Damn, she was even prettier than he’d imagined. She had firm curves and toned muscles, but her skin was so pale and smooth. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. As his tongue stroked hers, she kissed him back.

Lachlan slid his hands down her body, cupping her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, Rowan.”

“No, I’m—”

“Yes.” He rolled her nipple between his fingers. “You are.”

As he played with her breasts, she writhed, pushing into his touch. “Oh, that’s so good.”

He dropped his head, sucking one nipple into his mouth. He played with it, nipping it with his teeth before moving to the other.

“Lachlan.” Her hands tugged on his hair.

He moved lower, sliding his mouth down her belly, scraping his teeth over her skin. She tasted so good, and smelled like his soap again. He nudged her legs apart. She wasn’t wearing any panties and the nest of dark-red curls was so damn pretty. He stroked her.

“Oh, God,” she murmured, jerking against him. “Please.”

“Please what?” He stroked her pink folds. Need slammed into him so hard he couldn’t think straight.

“More,” she panted.

Lachlan dropped his head and pushed her thighs wider apart. He licked her.

“Oh.” Her hips jerked up.

He gripped her thighs, lifting them over his shoulders and holding her in place. He licked and sucked, working her with his tongue. “Taste so good, Rowan. I could stay right here all night.”

He kept licking, learning what strokes she liked best. He closed his mouth over her clit, toying with it, enjoying the hungry noises she made. Then, he went back to lapping, and slid a finger inside her. Damn, she was tight.

Her face was flushed, her eyes glazed. “Please, Lachlan.”

He could feel her body shaking. She was close to coming, and he couldn’t wait to watch.

The doorbell buzzed.

Lachlan cursed. “Shit. That’ll be dinner.”

“No.” Her legs tightened on him, trapping him close to her.

He thrust another finger inside her and leaned forward, licking her clit. “Come for me, Rowan.”

Her hands clenched in his hair. “I’m going to scream.”

“So scream.” He closed his mouth on her clit and sucked.

Her body clamped down on his fingers and her back bowed. She moaned, biting her lip to try and control the noises coming from her throat.

But Lachlan didn’t give a shit about the delivery guy, or anybody else. He wanted to hear her scream.

Another suck, and she broke loose, crying out his name.

And Lachlan had never seen or heard anything so beautiful in his whole damn life.

He slid up, closed his mouth over hers, and swallowed the rest of her cries.

ROWAN LAY SPRAWLED on the couch, trying to recover. Her pulse was pounding, and her legs felt like they would never hold her up again. Hell, she was just trying to breathe.

She heard Lachlan talking to someone, and she watched as he strode back in and tossed a paper bag on the kitchen counter.

Then he was moving toward her, face intent. Her belly clenched, and so did all her girl parts.

He lifted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around him.

“Where are—?”

“Want you in my bed the first time I fuck you.”

The low, harsh words shivered through her. If he thought she was going to complain, he was so wrong.

He laid her down on the bed, then flicked on a lamp. Low, golden light spilled over them. Lachlan pressed one hand to the bed, and then, with one quick tug of his other hand, her robe was gone.

His gaze roamed over her body.

“Hurry, Lachlan,” she murmured.

He straightened and yanked his shirt off. Wow. She would never, ever get tired of looking at him.

“Tell me what you want.” he growled.

“You.”

He flicked open his jeans. “Tell me more.”

“Your hands on me.” She let her gaze move over him greedily. As he shoved his jeans off, his thick cock sprang free. Oh. The gods had been very generous. “Your cock inside me.”

Naked, he pressed one knee to the bed and his hand moved between her thighs again.

“You’re so wet, Rowan. All for me.” He stroked her. “I’ll slide right in here.”

“Yes, please.”

He stood again, and this time, she heard the tearing of a foil packet. Then he was back. “Please what?”

“Please, Lachlan, fuck me.”

He groaned, his big body covering hers. He pushed her legs wide.

Desire was making her burn up, and only Lachlan could cool it. Only he could make it better.

She felt the blunt head of his cock nudge her folds. He moved his hips, his hard cock sliding up, teasing her clit.

She moaned.

“I hope you don’t care if my neighbors hear you scream.” His hot words whispered against her ear.

She shook her head. “Cocky.” She gripped his ass, trying to pull him closer, get him to move deeper.

“I love how much you want me.”

“Lachlan—”

He buried himself inside her with one hard thrust.

Rowan cried out, her head pressing back against the bed. He was thick and hard, filling her up.

He groaned. “You’re so damn tight.”

Then he started moving, thrusting inside her—firm and a little rough. He pulled her legs tight against his sides, moving deeper inside her than anyone had before.

“Rowan, open your eyes.”

She did, her gaze colliding with his golden-tiger eyes. He stared at her as he moved inside her.

Her belly pulled tight. Connected. Pleasure spilled inside her. She had never felt this connected to anyone. She felt a pull toward Lachlan, like gravity was binding her to him.

It thrilled her and scared her at the same time.

Each thrust of his cock had her pleasure rising higher, and she stopped thinking. Oh, oh. “Lachlan… I’m…”

Her orgasm slammed into her and she screamed his name.

He continued to slide into her, drawing her pleasure out. Then he rose up on his knees, and pulled out of her.

She made a sound of protest, but then he flipped her onto her belly.

“Not done with you, yet.” His rough hands shaped her ass. “Fucking hell.” One of his hands slid between her legs, and he buried two fingers inside her.

With a moan, she pushed back against him. Then he cupped the globes of her ass again, kneading.

“You have a pretty ass, Rowan.”

She felt his thighs brush against the backs of hers, then he slammed back inside her.

God. She grabbed the covers, twisting them in her fingers, trying to hold on. He gripped her hips and started a hard, fast, pounding rhythm.

“Keep your ass up, Rowan.”

His chest was pressed to her back, and he kept driving into her.

Rowan felt another orgasm hit. The strength of it grayed her vision and she moaned, long and deep.

Then Lachlan thrust again, buried deep. His groan was more of a growl as he came inside her.

They collapsed on the bed, their harsh pants filling the air.

She was pinned by his big body and she liked it. “If the bad guys come tearing in again, I won’t be able to move. You’ll have to rescue me.”

His laugh was a deep rumble, and she loved the sound.

He kissed her shoulder. “I’ve got you covered, sweetheart.”

A warm glow filled her. No one had called her sweetheart before. She liked it. She liked him. She liked it all too much.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Rowan sat sipping her mocha in Lachlan’s kitchen. She still wasn’t quite awake.

Maybe it was because Lachlan had woken her up with his mouth just after six a.m. She closed her eyes reveling in the memory. Then, he’d added his hands and cock, and she’d probably disturbed the neighbors again.

She took another big sip of her chocolate-laced coffee. She couldn’t find it in her to be sorry if she disturbed anyone’s sleep, because for the first time in a long time, she felt good.

But that made her think of Lars, lying still and unmoving in a bed, and the others who’d died. Her heart clenched. It had to be a bad thing to feel so good, when everything else around her was so wrong.

She heard footsteps and guessed that Lachlan was out of the shower. She was wearing another one of his T-shirts, and when he appeared, he was wearing no shirt, and only a pair of dark cargo pants riding low on his narrow hips.

She drank him in. Damn, the man was fine. She eyed his tattoos and his bronze skin. That intriguing prosthetic arm that only added to his appeal. Not to mention those abs that she’d worshiped with her mouth earlier.

His golden eyes were on her and he moved straight to her. His kiss was hard and deep.

“Morning,” he murmured.

“Can’t talk. Brain cells have been turned to mush.”

He grinned, and she liked seeing him look so relaxed. Then he reached over, grabbed her mug, and sipped her coffee.

“Hey,” she complained.

He tucked her into his side and sipped again.

She traced a finger over his tattoos. The large one on his shoulder made sense. She saw the elements of the Marine emblem in the intricate design—the eagle, the globe, the anchor, as well as a cross. But the letters down his side, she couldn’t guess.

“When did you get the tattoos?”

“One on my shoulder after I made Force Reconnaissance. I was pretty darn proud.”

She moved lower, her fingers tracing the letters. “And these?”

She felt him tense and she was sad to see the ease go.

“Those are the initials of the buddies I lost in my final mission. When I lost my arm.”

Demons danced in his eyes and Rowan bit her lip. “What were their names?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ignoring it won’t help, Lachlan—”

“That fancy PhD of yours in shrinking heads?” he spat.

Rowan felt his words hit her, but she stiffened her spine. “No. I just care about you.”

“Fuck.” He pressed his hands to the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry, I should never have asked—”

“Evans, Johnson, and Simms.”

She stilled. “You marked them on your skin so you’d never forget them.”

“I will never forget. I’ll never forget their screams. Never forget that my reckless mistake got them killed. Never forget that I couldn’t save them.”

His words came at her like bullets. “Lachlan—”

He closed his eyes. “I’ll never forget because I look at this metal arm every day and remember. I’ll never forget because I look in the mirror everyday and see my dad’s eyes.”

She sucked in a breath. “Your father had a drinking problem that he used to try and cope with what was clearly PTSD. You are not him.”

“I could be. I made the decision to head into a cave system in Afghanistan to gather intel on a rumored torture camp. I should have fucking waited for backup. I have to live with that.”

She gripped his hand—his prosthetic one—twining their fingers together. Her hero, still beating himself up, even when he went to work every day to protect others.

“There were more insurgents than we expected. They nabbed Evans and tortured him. We could hear him screaming.”

Rowan held on, forcing herself to listen to every word. She knew now why Lachlan had made the decision to go in.

“But by the time we got in there, Evans was dead. Blair got a knife to the eye, Johnson got a bullet to the head which didn’t kill him but left him a vegetable, and I…”

“Tell me.”

“I’d tossed a few grenades and part of the roof collapsed.” His chest shuddered. “I’d pulled the pin on the next grenade when a rock hit me. I was pinned down, too fucking close to the grenade. Blast mangled my arm.”

She wrapped her arms around him. She couldn’t imagine the agony.

“Blair dragged me out, blood dripping down her face. Together, we got Johnson out.”

They’d survived, but had been battered to hell. She hugged him hard. “You can’t save everyone, Lachlan. All you can do is make the choice to fight, protect, and know that sometimes your best isn’t good enough. Then you get up, and take each day at a time.”

His arms wrapped around her. His embrace was so tight, she could barely breathe, but she didn’t let go. She stroked her hands over the sleek skin of his back, and slowly, she felt his muscles relax.

“Team’ll be here soon,” he murmured.

“What’s the plan for today?” she asked.

“We’re going to link up to base from here.” He finally loosened his arms. His gaze searched her face. “How come you aren’t looking at me with pity, or disgust, or something?”

“Because I don’t feel any of those things. Sorrow you got hurt, sympathy for your friends. But you’re alive, Lachlan, and you’re still being a hero with the work you do.”

He pulled in a breath. “You’re too good for me.”

She leaned in close. “I never want to hear you say that again.” She straightened and stole her coffee back from him. “Now, we have work to do.”

His face turned serious. “We need to find the artifact.”

She nodded. “I guess the best way to do that is to identify the people who took it.”

“True, but they’re proving elusive.”

“You don’t think it’s the Red Wolves.”

“Nope.” His hand cupped her hip and squeezed. “I’d prefer you were dressed when my team arrives.”

She rolled her eyes, but headed for the shower. By the time she’d dressed, she heard voices in the living room.

When she entered, everyone looked up from where they were sitting, giving her a smile or a wave. Smith and Axel were at the counter, while the others were sitting on the couch. Axel gave her a lazy look followed by a wink.

Rowan sighed. Why did she feel like she had a sign saying “I got laid by Lachlan all night long, and thoroughly enjoyed it” hanging over her head?

As she got closer to the couch, Lachlan grabbed her hand and tugged her down beside him. He kept talking to Blair, who was fiddling with a tablet. He slid his hand up Rowan’s arm.

She felt everyone watching, and she knew enough about Lachlan now to know the move was deliberate.

“Got the connection,” Blair said.

Brooks’ good-looking face filled Lachlan’s television screen, his glasses framing deep brown eyes. “Morning.”

“Brooks,” Lachlan said.

Today, the man’s T-shirt had a stormtrooper on it aiming a blaster and said “Stop, or I’ll shoot in your general direction.” Rowan felt a spurt of amusement.

“Rowan, glad you’re okay,” Brooks said.

“Thanks.”

Lachlan folded his arms over his chest. “Okay, update us.”

Brooks’ smile dissolved. “Seth got a few things out of the guys who tried to take Rowan.”

Rowan glanced at Seth, but his face didn’t change. He was sitting on the arm of the couch, looking relaxed, but something about him made her think of a snake, coiled and ready to strike.

“We’ve confirmed the guys in the gray vehicles were part of the Red Wolves,” Brooks said.

“I spoke to Declan Ward at Treasure Hunter Security,” Lachlan said.

“Hate those guys,” Axel muttered.

“He confirmed the Red Wolves like artifacts, generally ones attached to crazy conspiracy theories, and are usually haphazard and messy with their attacks.”

“But they don’t have the artifact,” Seth said.

Everyone froze.

Lachlan leaned forward. “They took Rowan because they’re still trying to find out about the artifact, and don’t know it’s missing.”

Brooks nodded.

“So there’s another player on the board,” Blair said.

Lachlan scowled and glanced at Rowan. “And they might still try to get to Rowan.”

God. She slumped back on the couch. “The most important thing is the artifact.”

Brooks turned to face the screen on his wall. “I’m working hard to follow the money trail of the payment Airman Kowalski received. But these guys are good, and it’s buried deep. I was in contact with Detective MacKade.”

There was a quiet snort, which Rowan thought came from Blair.

“The police searched her house, but didn’t find anything. She’s disappeared, and her husband’s distraught.”

Rowan wrapped her arms around herself. “And she has a sick daughter.”

Brooks nodded. “The police are staking out the hospital where the airman’s daughter is being treated, just in case she tries to see the girl.”

Lachlan ran a hand through his hair. He looked frustrated.

“Wait!” Brooks started tapping his tablet like mad.

“Brooks—” Lachlan began.

The man’s head jerked up. “Reports of a disturbance at the Venetian.”

Around her, the team all tensed.

“Go on,” Lachlan said.

“Nothing concrete yet,” Brooks said, “but some of the reports mention an attack. Involving ice.”

Oh, no. Rowan gasped.

Team 52 all leaped to their feet.

“Let’s go.” Lachlan ordered. “We go in undercover, weapons hidden until we need them.”

Rowan stood. “I’m coming.”

Lachlan scowled.

“You don’t want to leave her here alone,” Blair said quietly.

Lachlan bit off a curse and gripped Rowan’s arm. “You’re coming with us, but you follow my orders.”

WHEN THEY PULLED up to the Venetian, people were pouring out of the casino. The faint sound of screaming came through the windows.

Lachlan touched his ear. “Comms check.”

All his team and Brooks called in their checks. He pushed open the door, helping Rowan out of the backseat. His team moved in around him, keeping their bodies relaxed and casual.

“Keep a low profile.” They didn’t need the warning. His team knew the drill. They were used to operating under the radar, and in unique circumstances.

He looked down at Rowan who was eyeing the running crowd with concern.

Lachlan looked over at Callie. “Callie, you stay with Rowan. Stay back, and only come in if I call for you.”

The woman looked like she wanted to argue, but then nodded. Lachlan knew all his team preferred action over playing bodyguard, but they also took orders when they heard them.

Lachlan gripped Rowan’s arms. “Stay with Callie. Be safe.”

She nodded. “You, too.”

Fuck. His team was watching him, but he ignored them and leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.

With a smile, Callie took Rowan’s arm. As the rest of the team jogged into the casino, Callie pulled Rowan away from the panicking crowd and toward the restaurants.

When Lachlan turned to the others, Blair, Axel, and Seth were grinning at him, and even Smith looked like he was fighting a smile.

“Not a word.” Lachlan strode forward and out into the replica of Venice’s St. Mark’s Square.

More panicked, fleeing people. The screams grew louder.

Together, his team rushed over the bridge that spanned the artificial lake. Then he glanced down, and his gut tightened.

Half of the lake was frozen solid. A gondola was caught up in the ice, pointing straight up.

Shit. “Fan out.”

They crossed the bridge, and on the other side, still more people were pushing and stumbling as they tried to get away.

That’s when Lachlan saw the figure scaling one of the faux Italian-building façades. A large figure that looked like it was wearing white body armor.

Someone had activated the artifact.

He pulled his SIG, and saw his team do the same. He gave a hand signal, and they moved over another bridge.

The creature spotted them and jumped down. It landed, cracking the travertine tiles, then rose slowly.

Fuck. Lachlan took in the brown hair framing the distorted female features.

“Airman Kowalski,” Blair murmured.

The woman had to be at least a foot taller than usual and far bigger. The artifact rested on her chest.

Lachlan touched his ear. “Callie, we need the tranqs. Get in here.”

“On my way,” Callie responded. “I’m sending Rowan back to the SUVs.”

As they waited for Callie, they moved in slowly, circling Airman Kowalski. Suddenly, the woman let out a growl. Then she charged.

Lachlan dodged. He got a clear view of the artifact on the woman’s chest.

Airman Kowalski swung a clawed hand at Seth. He jumped up and kicked her. She staggered backward, then she bent her knees and jumped up. She leaped over their heads.

“She’s getting away,” Smith barked.

Lachlan sprinted after her, his team right behind him. Airman Kowalski ran through a door, and into the casino.

Inside, there were startled screams as Airman Kowalski crashed through the crowd. Team 52 followed her erratic path, dodging blackjack tables and slot machines. Suddenly, Callie appeared, holding the tranq gun.

“Take her down,” Lachlan ordered.

Callie steadied herself, taking aim at the fleeing woman.

The medic fired, then cursed. “Missed.”

“Take the shot again,” Lachlan said calmly.

He saw Airman Kowalski knock through a group of tourists, sending them toppling. He ran forward, Blair at his elbow.

“She’s going to hurt someone,” Blair yelled.

Lachlan lifted his weapon. Airman Kowalski turned and their gazes met. She let out a wild roar, then crouched and touched the floor.

A web of ice formed at the airman’s feet. It rose up from the floor like some kind of reverse waterfall.

“Callie. Now!”

Callie fired again. “I think I got her.”

But the ice reached the ceiling, looking like a wall of glass, cutting them off.

Lachlan hammered a fist against the ice. It was rock hard. He flipped his SIG around and thumped the butt against the frozen wall.

Too thick. Fuck. “We need to get around. Now!”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Rowan sat anxiously in the SUV’s passenger seat, hoping Lachlan and the others were okay.

She drummed her fingers against the dash. People were still fleeing the Venetian, and she kept her gaze trained on the casino, hoping to see Lachlan and his team come out soon.

As people ran screaming past her vehicle, she saw a small boy stumble and fall, tears streaming down his face.

Screw this. Rowan pushed open the door and scooped the boy up. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“Ryan!” a woman yelled.

Rowan handed the boy over to the hysterical woman. More people staggered past and she had to force herself to stay where she was and not run into the casino.

Then she saw the creature rush out of the casino entrance.

Rowan sucked in a sharp breath. Big, with white frost slicked over its body, and ice forming on the ground where it walked. It got closer, and that’s when she saw its face.

No, not an it. A she. This had to be Airman Kowalski.

The mutated woman reached the sidewalk, looked confused for a second, then turned and loped off down the road.

God, they couldn’t lose her. Rowan still didn’t see Lachlan or the others. She dived back into the Suburban and climbed into the driver’s seat. She started the engine and pulled out onto South Las Vegas Boulevard.

She peered at the sidewalk ahead, trying to keep Airman Kowalski in view.

She stabbed the buttons on the dash. “Brooks? Can you hear me?”

“Rowan?” Brooks’ startled voice. “Where are you?”

“I’m in one of the SUVs. I’m following Airman Kowalski.”

Brooks sucked in a breath. “Lachlan is going to lose his mind.”

Probably. But Rowan couldn’t worry about that right now. “Can you patch me through to him?”

“Sure thing. Give me a sec.”

Airman Kowalski turned down a side street and Rowan cursed. She swung the wheel to follow, tires screeching. From somewhere behind, a horn blared. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Rowan.”

Lachlan’s voice came through the dash and she winced. He was not happy.

“I’m in the SUV. I’m following Airman Kowalski at a distance. Uh, she took off down South Las Vegas Boulevard, and we’ve turned onto…” Shit, she had no idea what street they were on.

A strangled noise came through the line. “Stop the vehicle, Rowan.”

“No, Lachlan. We’ll lose her and the artifact.” Rowan saw Airman Kowalski turn again. “Hang on.”

She was on a smaller street now, moving into a more industrial area.

“We’re in the other SUV and tracking you,” Lachlan said. “We’re just a few minutes behind you. Do not get out of the car.”

“Okay—” Rowan slammed on the brakes and gasped.

She stared through the windshield, her mouth going dry.

“Rowan?”

Ice slid through her veins. Airman Kowalski, looking huge and menacing, stood in the center of the road, staring through the windshield at Rowan.

“Ah, we might have a problem.”

“What?” Lachlan snapped.

“She spotted me.”

“Hang on, Rowan, we’re almost there.”

Airman Kowalski leaped into the air, and Rowan’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. The changed woman landed on the hood and set the SUV rocking. Metal crumpled and the engine cut out.

“Lachlan? Brooks?” The comm line had cut off.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Rowan yanked her seatbelt off.

Airman Kowalski took a step closer, the hood crunching under her large feet. Rowan gripped the door handle.

Then suddenly, Airman Kowalski’s big body started shuddering like she was having a seizure.

What the—? Rowan frowned. There were wires embedded in Airman Kowalski’s side. Rowan swiveled her head and watched a team of soldiers wearing dark-gray uniforms moving in on her vehicle.

One soldier was holding some sort of weapon, and the wires were coming from it. It had to be some sort of high-tech, heavy-duty Taser.

Then, Airman Kowalski roared, tearing the wires free. She leaped off the hood. When she landed, she sent soldiers scattering. But some stayed on their feet. They converged on Airman Kowalski, firing their weapons.

Come on, Lachlan. Rowan had no idea who these people were, but they were clearly after the artifact.

Suddenly, Rowan’s door was yanked open. A hard hand wrapped around her arm and wrenched her out of the vehicle.

She looked up into the impassive face of a bearded soldier.

Shit.

LACHLAN TRIED to control his rage.

“Sorry, Lachlan, we’ve lost comms,” Brooks said. “I’m pulling up satellite feed now. Give me a minute.”

Rowan might not have a minute. His hands clenched on his CXM7 rifle now resting in his lap. The little fool.

“Hurry up,” he barked at Seth.

“Going as fast as I can.” Seth took the corner fast, the back end of the SUV swerving.

Once again, cold, hard fear splashed over Lachlan. Come on.

“Okay, I have images,” Brooks said. Then the sound of him sucking in a breath burst through the line.

Lachlan’s heart hit his ribs. “Brooks, talk to me.” He leaned forward, willing the cars in front of them to get out of the way.

“The SUV is wrecked. A military team is attempting to contain Airman Kowalski.”

Fuck. “Rowan?” They screamed around another corner.

“Fighting with a soldier.”

“These guys any of ours?”

“Negative.”

“We’re going in hot.” Lachlan checked his rifle. “Seth, get us as close as you can.”

The man nodded. In the seats behind, he heard everyone checking their weapons. They’d all donned Kevlar vests.

They turned another corner, and he spotted the black SUV ahead, Airman Kowalski struggling against several gray-clad soldiers.

Seth sped up and then jerked on the brake. He slid their SUV to the side to give them cover. The vehicle screeched to a halt, rocking slightly.

Lachlan shoved his door open and leaped out. As he lifted his weapon, Blair and Axel flanked him.

He sighted the first soldier and fired. He heard Airman Kowalski roar, but blocked it out. The soldiers had her trapped under a net and she was fighting it.

He dropped down behind the hood of their vehicle. Bullets slammed into the metal. He caught Blair’s eye. She nodded and they popped up again, firing.

Lachlan spotted Rowan off to one side. She was struggling with a soldier who was trying desperately to subdue her.

Screw this. He reloaded. “Cover me.”

“Lachlan, wait—”

Ignoring Blair, he leaped out of cover and ran toward Rowan. He pulled the trigger. Bam. Bam. Bam. More soldiers fell.

Several soldiers scattered for cover. Airman Kowalski managed to get free, tearing the net off. She let out an ear-splitting roar and charged at the nearest soldier. She grabbed the end of his rifle in a massive fist. With one crunch, it was nothing but a length of twisted metal.

The man staggered back, wide-eyed. Airman Kowalski grabbed him, lifting him over her head. The man screamed.

Even from a distance, Lachlan felt the blast of cool air. The screams cut off and he watched the man literally freeze.

Fucking hell. Lachlan ducked, racing closer to Rowan, but keeping his eye on Kowalski. He touched his ear. “Callie, take her down.”

Bullets whizzed past Lachlan and he dropped down behind a parked car. Airman Kowalski roared again, and when he peeked around, he saw the bright-red feather of the tranq dart against her neck.

She staggered, tearing at the tranq. Suddenly, a soldier rounded the car and Lachlan leaped upward. He kicked the man’s weapon out of his hand and fired his own.

The man fell with a cry, clutching his shoulder.

Lachlan touched his earpiece. “Contain Airman Kowalski and then round up these assholes.”

He scanned around and saw the man who had Rowan dragging her down an adjacent alley. They disappeared from view.

Shit. “I’m going after Rowan.”

“Wait!” Seth called.

But Lachlan wasn’t waiting. He ran for the alley.

As he turned the corner, there was a volley of gunfire. He felt a burn on his arm and ducked back. Shit. He pressed his back to the wall.

He glanced at his arm and saw where the bullet had grazed his bicep. It was bleeding, but it wasn’t a life-threatening wound.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her,” a gravelly, French-accented voice shouted from the alley.

Lachlan crouched, and pulled a small device off his belt. He flicked open the small mirror and turned it around the corner. The guy had a gun to Rowan’s head. Of course, she didn’t look afraid, but instead looked angry.

“You aren’t after her,” Lachlan called out.

“I wasn’t, but now she’s my way out of here.”

Lachlan tried to calm his pulse and pulled in a deep breath. Usually, it was easy to find the combat calm he’d perfected over the years. But now, that feeling eluded him.

Rowan’s life depends on you, asshole. Lachlan gripped his weapon and stood. He counted to three, then spun around the corner, raising his weapon.

The bearded soldier holding Rowan narrowed his gaze. “Merde. Stay back!”

Lachlan fired.

At the same time, Rowan yanked down hard and kicked her captor’s shin.

Lachlan’s bullet hit the man between his eyes.

But the soldier’s weapon discharged as well. Right at Rowan’s head.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Rowan staggered dizzily. Her ears were ringing.

God. She was so mad. Clutching her head where it burned, she spun, and saw her captor was down on the ground.

And very dead. Her stomach rolled.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Lachlan’s roar made her ears ring even more. She turned back to face him, and relief ran through her. She stepped toward him and saw his eyes widen as he took her in.

His face changed and he cupped her head, tilting it to the side.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

“Lachlan?”

“It’s only a graze.” He yanked her close and pressed her face to his chest. “Just a graze.”

Then he pulled back and kissed her.

Rowan forgot everything—the artifact, the bad guys, her aching head. She opened her mouth and kissed him back, her hands gripping him hard.

Lachlan kissed her like she was air and he needed her to breathe. Warmth flooded her.

It was the sound of running footsteps that made them pull apart. Lachlan kept her pressed close to his chest.

Seth appeared and lowered his weapon. “Shit. She okay?”

“Graze.” Lachlan’s hand slid into her hair. “Don’t want to lose you, sweetheart. Can’t lose you.”

God. God. Her heart was beating so hard, emotion choking her. She curled her fingers into his vest.

The rest of Team 52 sprinted into the alley.

“I’m fine.” Rowan reluctantly stepped back, looking at them. “I think I need a drink, and chocolate isn’t going to cut it this time. Maybe tequila.”

The team all sucked in shocked breaths and stared. She took in their serious, grim looks and reached up. Her hand came away, sticky with blood.

She winced and looked at Lachlan. “It looks bad, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He pulled her close again.

“Airman Kowalski got away,” Blair said. “The tranq wasn’t strong enough to stop her.”

Lachlan cursed. “Smith, can you track her?”

“I can try,” the big man said.

Lachlan nodded. “Do it. Axel, go with him.”

The pair swiveled and were gone. Lachlan took Rowan’s hand and led her out of the alley.

“SUV’s down that side street,” Blair said. “Police are en route. Figured just one of us can deal with them.”

Rowan blinked and saw the soldiers who’d tried to capture Airman Kowalski all sitting in a bunch, their hands and feet zip-tied. Callie was standing watch over them.

“You got this?” Lachlan asked.

Blair huffed out a breath, her gaze skating over Rowan’s head. “Yeah. You get Rowan cleaned up.”

“I’m fine,” Rowan said.

“I’ll stay with Blair,” Seth murmured. “You take care of Rowan.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

They’d just reached the SUV when Rowan heard the sirens and the screech of cars pulling up. She looked over her shoulder. Blair’s stance was strong and defiant.

A tall man, wearing jeans and a black, button-down shirt, swung out of the lead police vehicle, a badge clipped to his belt. His gaze locked on Blair and he started walking toward her.

“Who’s that?” Rowan asked.

“Detective Luke MacKade,” Lachlan said. “He’s our contact at the LVMPD. He’ll help smooth things over.”

Rowan had the vague idea that Blair and the detective looked like two gunslingers meeting down a dusty street. Then Lachlan opened the SUV’s back door and nudged her in.

Before she knew it, he had a first aid kit out and was pressing some antiseptic wipes to her temple. The sting made her hiss.

“You were lucky, Rowan. Another inch…”

She nodded. “I really am fine, Lachlan.”

When he pulled back the wipes, she saw they were soaked with blood. Oh. God. Her stomach pitched. “Wow, that’s a lot of blood.”

“Head injuries bleed a lot,” he told her.

“Jeez.” She glanced down at his shirt. It was covered in blood, as well. “That’s all from my head?”

“Yep.”

Dizziness hit her.

“Hey.” Lachlan stepped closer, sliding a hand behind her neck. “You’re fine, remember?”

At that moment, she saw the wound on his arm. “My God, you’ve been shot too!”

“I think being shot in the head takes precedence over a flesh wound on the arm.” His face changed. “You should never have followed Airman Kowalski.”

“I couldn’t let her get away.” Rowan gripped his uninjured arm. “I couldn’t let her hurt anyone. Lars has to live with killing his friends for the rest of his life. I just couldn’t…”

“Okay, okay.” Lachlan blew out a breath.

He went back to work, cleaning her wound and lecturing her about fighting with bad guys who were holding a gun to her head. She looked back toward where the police were rounding up the prisoners. She watched Blair throw her arms in the air, and the tall detective lean down and get in her face. That looked like it was going well.

Rowan’s gaze fell on the SUV she’d been driving. The front of it was a crumpled wreck.

“Sorry about the SUV.”

Lachlan stopped his lecture but didn’t even glance at the damaged vehicle. “I don’t give a fuck about the SUV.”

Man, he was really angry. Her head throbbed. “Lachlan, my head hurts. Can you stop yelling, please?”

She watched him suck in a breath and try to rein it in. Then he stepped closer, wrapped his arms around her, and scooped her into his arms.

It felt good. Really good. She held on to him and nestled closer.

“This has got to stop, Rowan. You being in danger.”

“It’ll be over soon.” She stroked his stubbled cheek. “I’m glad we’re all alive.”

His hold tightened. “Me, too.”

He put her back in the SUV and buckled her in. It wasn’t long before an amused Seth and Callie, and a silently fuming Blair, returned.

“I’m driving,” Blair snapped.

“Everything okay with MacKade?” Lachlan asked.

“Peachy.” Blair slammed into the driver’s seat.

Rowan found herself wedged between Lachlan and Seth in the backseat as Blair drove them back to Lachlan’s condo.

Once they were back inside, Rowan collapsed on the couch.

The others instantly got to work, with Brooks on the screen, and got in touch with Smith and Axel. It sounded like the men weren’t having much luck tracking down Airman Kowalski.

When a glass appeared in front of her, Rowan looked up at Blair.

“Drink it,” the woman said.

Rowan took it and tossed back the whiskey. She tried to enjoy the burn, but wrinkled her nose.

“You scared him,” Blair said.

Rowan’s gaze slid to Lachlan across the room. His palms were pressed to his kitchen counter, his back tense. He was clearly still mad at her.

“You scared us all,” Blair added.

“Am I growing on you, Blair?”

The woman’s lips twitched. “Yeah, like a fungus.”

Rowan snorted out a laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I am fine.”

Callie appeared with her backpack, eyeing Rowan’s head wound. “All right, time for me to work my magic.”

“Okay, but then you fix up Lachlan.”

Callie tilted her head. “He won’t let me near his arm until he’s sure you’re okay.”

Rowan blew out a breath. “Fine.”

LACHLAN SAT on one of his stools, his shirt off, while Callie patched up his arm.

“You’ll have a scar,” Callie said.

“I’ll add it to the collection.”

His gaze fell on Rowan. She was on the couch, sipping a hot chocolate, her legs tucked under her. She’d have a scar too. Lachlan was still angry. He’d come within an inch of losing her.

“You like her a lot,” Callie said.

Lachlan looked at his friend. “Yeah.”

“There’s a lot to like, Lachlan. Gorgeous, smart, nerves of steel. None of this has made her fall apart. Sounds like a woman who can handle our lifestyle.”

Lachlan kept looking at Rowan. The sweet slope of her nose, the stubborn jut of her jaw. “I suck at relationships. Always have.”

Callie made a sound in her throat and pressed a bandage over Lachlan’s bicep. “We all do until we find the right one.”

Lachlan raised a brow. “You a romantic, Kimura?”

“Nope. But if a gorgeous, smart, good man burst into my world and looked at me the way Rowan looks at you, I wouldn’t screw it up.” Callie pulled back and started packing up her kit. Her gray eyes turned sad. “It is so easy to lose people. You should hold on when you can.”

“Smith lost Kowalski’s trail,” Blair called out, frustration in her voice.

Fuck. Lachlan stood and shrugged his shirt on. “Okay. We keep monitoring for any sign of her. I need everyone on standby. If Brooks gets word on a sighting, we move out.”

“It’s likely the tranquilizer slowed her down,” Callie said. “My guess is that she’s holed up somewhere, sleeping it off.”

Damn, so it could be a while before she surfaced. He looked at Blair and Seth. They were hunched over a laptop at his coffee table.

“Blair, you keep in touch with MacKade, and see if he gets anything out of the soldiers.”

She pulled a face but nodded. “They weren’t the Red Wolves, Lachlan.”

No, they were far better organized. He nodded. “Keep me posted. Rest up while you can.”

His team finally shuffled out, leaving him and Rowan alone.

“You still mad?”

Rowan’s soft voice made him turn. She was standing right behind him.

His gaze went to the white bandage on her temple and anger flared again. “Yeah. But I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad in general.”

She leaned into him. “Any way I can distract you?” She slid a hand under his shirt.

Desire kindled. It appeared all Rowan Schafer had to do was breathe, and it turned him on. “Maybe.”

She went up on her toes and touched her mouth to his. He drank her in, kissing her deep. He cradled her face and moved his mouth to press a kiss to the bandage.

She sucked in a breath. “No one’s ever kissed my boo-boos.”

Fuck her parents. He took his time, pressing more kisses to her skin. Then he gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it gently over her head. He backed her up until she hit the wall.

He lowered his hands, opening her trousers and yanking them down, taking her panties with them.

“Lachlan—” Her voice was husky.

“Shh. I’m going to make love to you and make us both feel better.” He yanked his own shirt off.

“God,” she breathed.

Her hands clenched on his shoulders as he lifted her up. He cupped her sweet ass, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“You on the Pill?” he asked.

“I get a contraceptive shot.”

“We have regular physicals at base. I haven’t been with anyone since my last clean bill of health.”

She licked her lips, her gaze glittering “I had a checkup before the Ellesmere trip. I’m healthy.”

He reached between them and flicked open his trousers. His cock was throbbing at the thought of sliding inside her with no barrier between them.

“You okay with this?” he asked. “Me ungloved?”

“Yes. Hurry.” She undulated against him.

Lachlan thrust inside her. It was like coming home.

“Yes.” She threw her head back.

He slid one palm behind her head before it could hit the wall, and cupped her ass with the other. Then he started pounding inside her.

“So wet, so tight,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Faster, Lachlan.”

He changed the angle of his thrusts so he was rubbing against her clit. He held on tight, feeling the sensations slamming into him. She felt so damn good, and he’d never get enough of her.

She was alive. She was everything he’d ever dreamed about and more.

A few more thrusts and she came with a cry, her body convulsing. He kept working her up and down on his cock.

Her body was clamping down on him, and a moment later, Lachlan came with a shout, spilling inside her hot body.

Shit. He was wrecked. She undid him.

He gripped her more securely, his cock sliding out of her. He carried her to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. As they lay there, he stroked her hair.

“I was afraid today,” he murmured. “Been a long time since I felt like that.”

She burrowed into him. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled her closer. “I couldn’t help my dad. He came home a changed man, an angry man. I couldn’t help him, or my mom, when he’d get in a rage and hit her. I hate being helpless.”

Rowan’s arms tightened around him. “You can’t save everyone, Lachlan.”

He stayed silent. He’d joined the Marines believing he could make a difference, maybe believing he could save everyone who needed help.

“But you try anyway,” she said quietly. “That’s what a hero does.”

Hero? Hardly. “I just do my job.”

“I’m afraid every time I look at you,” she murmured.

“What?” He looked down. His heart clenched at the idea that she was afraid of him.

“You know my parents…” She pulled in a shuddering breath. “No one’s ever cared for me enough to stay around very long. No one’s ever risked their life for me.”

Lachlan rolled her over. Damn, her parents. “That’s their failing, not yours, Rowan. You’re gorgeous, smart, and you care.” He leaned down and kissed her, nipping at her bottom lip. “I’m going to find your parents and—”

“Hey.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. But Lachlan could see her blue eyes were still sad.

He leaned down and kissed her nose. Then her jaw. Then he moved his lips lower and kissed along her collarbone.

“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“I’m going to worship every part of you, Rowan. I’m going to kiss and caress every inch of you until you understand how amazing you are.”

Her chest hitched and he saw something in her eyes. “Lachlan.”

He lowered his head and set to work.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Rowan woke to a featherlight touch on her bare shoulder. She was lying facedown, buried in the covers on Lachlan’s bed.

She opened one eye and saw Lachlan sitting beside her. She noted he was dressed.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hi.” She pushed at her tangled hair. “What’s up?”

He was staring at the pillow.

“Lachlan?”

“Sorry.” His gaze met hers. “Got sidetracked by all that hair of yours spread out on my pillow.” His lips quirked. “I like seeing it there.”

Her heart went pitty-pat.

Then his face turned serious. “I don’t like the bruises and bandage on your face though.”

She moved up on one elbow and purposely let the sheet fall, baring her breasts. “I think we discovered last night that I am perfectly fine. The bruises will fade.”

As planned, he was looking at her breasts. “I have to head out.” He dragged his gaze up. “Even though I’d sell my soul to climb back in bed with you. We have a few possible leads on the bad guys and Airman Kowalski.”

“Okay.”

“Axel’s here, so go back to sleep.” Lachlan pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Stay out of trouble.”

She closed her eyes. “Not like I asked to be attacked or kidnapped, Lachlan.”

Another kiss, this one to her shoulder, and then he was gone.

Rowan dozed but didn’t drop back into a deep sleep. Finally, she decided it was time to get up and see if she could help in any way.

Once she was showered and dressed, she found Axel sitting on the couch, tapping on a laptop.

“Morning,” she said.

He looked up and smiled that slow smile of his.

She shook her head. The man was way too attractive. It oozed out of his pores. “Don’t smile like that until I’ve had some coffee,” she grumbled.

His sexy smile widened.

Rowan made a beeline for the coffee machine. Once she’d taken a few sips of her mocha—sweet, sweet caffeine hitting her system—she headed in Axel’s direction.

“Any news?”

He shook his head, frustration creasing his brow. “Bunch of random sightings. Lachlan and the team are checking them out.”

“Sorry you got stuck babysitting.” She dropped down beside him. He had a map of Las Vegas on the television screen. It was covered with a smattering of glowing dots.

He grunted.

“These the sightings?” she asked.

He nodded. “One at the MGM Grand, one at the T-Mobile Arena, and the fountain at the Bellagio. Frozen solid, by the way.”

She sipped her coffee. The sightings all seemed pretty random. She stilled. “Wait. Nat lives at the MGM. She told me about a show that’s on there. A magic show on ice.”

Axel frowned. “So?”

“So, the Bellagio’s fountain froze, and there was a sighting near a show on ice. What’s on at the T-Mobile Arena right now?”

Axel quickly tapped in a search. “Shit. The Vegas Golden Knights are playing. The ice-hockey team.” He tapped again. “You might be onto something, Dr. Schafer. Brooks?”

Brooks’ face appeared on the screen. He looked tired and rumpled, and clearly hadn’t slept. “At your service.”

“Rowan noticed something,” Axel said.

“All the sightings have been near water or ice,” Rowan said. “Are there any other places with ice around the area?”

“God, you’re right.” Brooks tapped his tablet. “With the artifact on, Airman Kowalski must be attracted to cold and ice.”

“Brooks, where else has a large body of ice in the area?” Axel asked.

“Hang on.” A blue dot appeared on the screen. Right in the center of the others.

Rowan sucked in a breath. “What is that?”

“The rooftop ice rink at the Cosmopolitan,” Brooks said.

Axel jumped up. “You’re with me, Rowan. Brooks, contact Lachlan and the team.”

Axel grabbed a duffel bag and shoved a Kevlar vest at Rowan. “Put that on.” He pulled his own on, and she caught a glimpse of his high-tech rifle in the bag.

As they left the condo, Rowan trotted beside him to keep up with his long strides. As the elevator doors closed, Axel pulled a handgun out of his bag. “You know how to use this?”

She took the Glock and nodded. “Since I’m often on research trips in foreign countries, I took some lessons at a local range.” She checked the Glock over and then tucked it into the waistband of her jeans.

“The others all prefer the SIG Sauer, but I’m a Glock man.” He winked.

In the parking garage, they jumped into one of the team SUVs and took off. Rowan gripped the door. Axel drove like he had a trophy to win.

They zoomed through the traffic at what she guessed was twenty over the speed limit. It wasn’t long before they roared down the Strip, and pulled up in front of the Cosmopolitan.

Rowan stared at the casino. There were no screams or fleeing people. Everything looked normal.

As they exited the SUV, she looked up. The giant hotel towers of the Cosmopolitan speared into the sky, but much lower down at the front of the casino complex, she saw the ice rink and bar area, several stories above South Las Vegas Boulevard.

“You should have stayed at the condo.”

Lachlan’s voice made her drop her gaze. He and the rest of the team were striding toward them.

“You need all the help you can get if we’re going to subdue Airman Kowalski,” Axel said. “And Rowan’s safer with us.”

“She almost got shot in the head last time,” Lachlan bit out.

“Boys,” Blair murmured. “Rowan can actually look after herself pretty well. Why don’t we head up and take a look around?”

Lachlan gripped Rowan’s arm and they headed for the entrance to the casino. The lobby was all glitz and glamor, with a polished tile floor and several large columns with screens on them. Right now, the columns were lit up with images of a snow-covered forest. She wrinkled her nose. How appropriate.

They casually made their way to the bank of elevators and entered one.

“Hold the door.” A man in a Hawaiian shirt appeared, about to squeeze in with them.

Lachlan gave him a hard stare. The man froze and slowly backed away.

“Uh, I’ll get the next one.”

Blair pressed the button for the Boulevard Pool Area, where the ice rink was located, and they moved upward.

When they stepped out onto the rooftop, Rowan’s heart was beating hard. It was fairly quiet at this time of the day. There were only a few people on the ice, and some in the adjacent heated pool.

The place had a killer view of the Planet Hollywood Casino and the Paris Casino’s replica Eiffel Tower across the road.

Rowan scanned the ice rink and her shoulders sagged. There was no sign of Airman Kowalski. “Guess I was wrong.”

A piercing scream filled the air.

They all spun. At the end of the ice rink, one of the skaters was frozen mid-movement, like a statue made of ice. His mouth was open and one hand outstretched.

“Or not,” Lachlan said.

People were falling and stumbling to get off the ice.

Rowan’s heart pounded. She didn’t see Airman Kowalski anywhere.

“Let’s move,” Lachlan said. “Rowan, stay here and do not move.”

LACHLAN SKIRTED THE ICE, his team behind him.

There was no sign of Airman Kowalski on the ice. But she was here, he could sense it.

“We need to lock Kowalski down.” He made eye contact with his team. The last thing he wanted was for Kowalski to tear through Vegas and hurt more people. Or get caught by the wrong people.

They moved past the small groups of tables arranged for patrons to sit by the ice and have drinks. Suddenly, he spotted water and melting ice on the ground. Lachlan pointed.

With their hands resting on their holstered weapons, they followed the trail toward the bar area. Lachlan saw one male bartender cowering. Lachlan jerked his head and the man took off.

The bar felt like a ghost town.

There was a door leading into a storage area and it was ajar. Smoothly, he pulled his SIG and kicked the door open. He looked inside, Seth right behind him.

Stacks of chairs, shelves of glasses, no woman under the influence of an ancient device.

Then he heard Blair curse. “Lachlan.”

He stormed out of the storage room, and his heart stopped.

Out on the center of the ice rink stood Kowalski…facing off with Rowan.

Rowan held one hand outstretched, and looked tiny compared to Kowalski’s altered form. His heart started beating again. A heavy pound that hurt. Dammit, he was going to lock Rowan in his bedroom and never let her out.

“Move in slowly,” he said. “Callie, you have the tranqs ready?”

“Ready. I’ve increased the dosage.”

“Seth?”

“Got the net.”

“Don’t spook her.” Lachlan couldn’t risk Rowan getting hurt.

Moving quietly and quickly, his team stepped out onto the ice. They hadn’t gone far, when Kowalski’s head snapped up.

The woman’s enhanced body tensed.

“No,” Rowan cried. “Stay back.”

Suddenly, the roar of a helicopter rushed overhead. Lachlan looked up at an unmarked chopper hovering above them in the sky.

A second later, several soldiers leaped out of the aircraft, rappelling down. They were all armed. Bullets slammed into the ice.

Fuck. “Team 52, engage.”

He lifted his SIG, shooting at the newcomers.

Then Rowan screamed.

Lachlan swiveled. Airman Kowalski had panicked in the chaos. She grabbed Rowan and ran across the ice with her.

Fucking hell. Lachlan was well aware that with one wrong move, Kowalski could seriously hurt Rowan.

Suddenly, a soldier in gray fatigues landed right in front of Lachlan. Anger flooded him, and he kicked the man’s weapon away. They charged at each other.

Lachlan gripped the man, swinging him around, and landed a hard punch to the man’s gut. The soldier stumbled back, then yanked a combat knife off his belt.

Fuck this. Lachlan moved in, ducked the swipe of the man’s knife and landed a hard jab to the man’s throat with his prosthetic hand. As the man choked, Lachlan followed up by slamming his elbow into the man’s head. The soldier’s head snapped back with a gurgle, and his knife clattered to the ice.

With another punch, Lachlan knocked him out. Lachlan stepped over the man. He had to get to Rowan.

He spotted Airman Kowalski balancing on the edge of the rooftop, still holding a struggling Rowan in her arms.

Kowalski’s milky-white gaze locked on him.

“Stop, Lachlan.” Rowan stared at him, her eyes huge. Then she looked back at Kowalski. “It’s okay, Airman Kowalski. We just want to help you.”

The airman tilted her head, looking confused.

“You have a daughter who misses you,” Rowan said. “You want to see her, right?”

Airman Kowalski made a sound like a moan.

Suddenly, a soldier raced past Lachlan. He fired his weapon at Kowalski and Rowan.

“No!” Lachlan swung his weapon up and fired. The man fell to the ice with a cry.

Lachlan turned and watched as a startled Kowalski lost her balance. She fell over the edge of the rooftop.

Taking Rowan with her.

“Rowan!” Lachlan leaped forward. “No!”

He watched them plummet toward the ground, his stomach contracting. God, Rowan, no. He’d lost her, he’d failed her.

Pain pulsing with every tortured beat of his heart, he turned and raced for the stairs.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

They hit the ground with a force that stunned.

For a second, all Rowan could do was stare up at the blue sky and blink, trying to get her bearings.

Beneath her, Airman Kowalski moaned. Rowan instantly realized the woman had protected her. The airman had wrapped herself around Rowan and taken the brunt of the fall.

“Help…me.”

Rowan scrambled to her knees on the broken pavement. God, the woman had spoken.

“Airman Kowalski? I will help you. Just hang on. Lachlan and Team 52 will be here shortly.”

Airman Kowalski moaned again. “Ai-mee.”

“Aimee? Your name is Aimee.” Rowan pressed a hand to the woman’s white shoulder. It felt icy to the touch. “I’m Rowan.”

Aimee’s white eyelids fluttered.

A screech of tires made Rowan’s head jerk up. A gray SUV and a small delivery truck pulled up right beside them.

No, no, no. She shifted in front of Aimee.

Armed men dressed in gray leaped out of the SUV. Rowan stepped forward, but the men shouldered past her. She gave one a hard shove but he grabbed her arms, holding her still.

“Leave her alone!” Where the hell was Lachlan?

Several soldiers knelt by Aimee, gripping her arms and legs. She struggled weakly.

“Get it loaded on the truck,” a man barked.

“No.” Rowan had to stop them.

She rammed into the man holding her. She knocked him off balance and grabbed at his rifle. She snatched it and stepped back, aiming it at his chest. “Back off.”

Another soldier off to the side whipped his weapon up and fired. The shot hit right near Rowan’s feet. With a cry, she leaped back, her shoulder hitting the side of the building.

The man who’d fired gave her a nasty smile. “Bad move, chaton.” He had a lyrical French accent. He took a step closer, and she aimed her rifle at him.

The group of soldiers lifted Airman Kowalski off the ground. They hustled her prone form toward the truck.

No. The soldier near her took a step closer.

“Stay back or I will shoot you,” she snapped.

“I don’t think you will.” He took another step closer.

“You really don’t want to test me. I’ve had a few really bad days.” She watched helplessly as the back doors of the truck swung open, and the soldiers carried Airman Kowalski inside.

The man kept advancing on Rowan, a menacing look on his face. He had a narrow, almost pretty face. Her gaze dropped to his weapon and she glimpsed a tattoo on his wrist.

Shit, Rowan didn’t want to kill him.

Suddenly, gunfire erupted from nearby. The man’s body jerked and he dropped his weapon. Rowan ducked and saw Team 52 burst out of the Cosmopolitan, led by Lachlan.

The soldier near her cursed, then turned and ran for the truck. Rowan raised her rifle and fired. She peppered the truck, aiming at the tires.

Soldiers at the back of the truck returned fire. Rowan swallowed a scream and saw Team 52 dive for cover.

Except Lachlan. He strode forward, continuing to fire his weapon. God. He moved with sure, fluid steps, like he was bulletproof.

His team moved in around him, weapons up.

With a squeal of tires, the truck and SUV screamed off. Team 52 walked out onto the street, firing at the fleeing vehicles.

Finally, they lowered their weapons. Rowan straightened and watched Lachlan walk toward her, his finger pressed to his ear.

“Brooks, track the vehicles,” Lachlan ordered. He looked at Blair and Seth. “You’re lead on finding those assholes.”

The pair nodded, swinging their weapons onto their shoulders and taking off at a jog.

Lachlan zeroed in on Rowan.

She froze, and suddenly wished she could run away, as well. He reached her and took her stolen rifle. He shoved it at Smith.

Then Lachlan grabbed her and started patting her down.

“Lachlan—”

“Quiet.” He checked her over, his face intense.

Satisfied she wasn’t hurt, he looked at her face. “Fuck.”

She winced at his tone and cleared her throat. “I’m okay.”

“You fell off a building!”

“Again,” Axel added unhelpfully.

She shot the man a glare just before Lachlan yanked her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight.

That’s when she realized his big body was shaking.

“I’m really okay,” she assured him. “Aimee—Airman Kowalski—broke my fall.” She looked up. “Lachlan, she asked me for help, and told me her name. I don’t think she can control herself, but she’s in there and wants help.”

“Forget about Kowalski for now.” He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

She held on. Absorbing the heat and strength of him.

“Lachlan.”

Rowan turned her head to look at Axel, standing beside them. “Brooks lost the truck. They went into a warehouse in an industrial area nearby, and then disappeared.”

Lachlan cursed. “We need to find them.”

Smith stepped forward. “I’ll join Blair and Seth. We’ll find them.”

“Go.”

Rowan found herself loaded into the back of one of the Suburbans with Lachlan, Axel, and Callie. Soon, they were back at Lachlan’s apartment.

Rowan made coffee, while Lachlan and the others worked. They had various maps and satellite feeds up on the television screen.

Blair and the others kept reporting in. No sign of the truck or Aimee Kowalski.

Everyone was tense, and feeling useless, Rowan kept serving refills of coffee. The minutes ticked by, and Rowan kept hoping Aimee was okay.

Suddenly, Brooks’ face flashed on the screen. He was flanked by an unhappy-looking Ty and a man so handsome he made Rowan blink. He had silky black hair, high cheekbones, and an air of unshakable authority.

“Jonah,” Lachlan murmured.

So this was Jonah Grayson. Holy cow, the man would just have to crook a finger and the women would come running.

“We have some news.” Jonah’s green gaze moved to meet Rowan’s.

Unease slithered over her. Jonah Grayson had the same kind of look in his eyes that Lachlan did—scary. But his actually scared the crap out of her. Her hindbrain was telling her to run.

“Lars is awake.”

LACHLAN SAW ROWAN TENSE. He reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing her fingers.

The screen changed, and showed the image of a pale, shaky-looking Lars propped up on pillows in his hospital bed.

“Rowan?” The man’s face lit up. “You’re okay?”

“I am.” She leaned forward. “How do you feel?”

Horror filled the man’s face. “My memories are foggy, but…but I killed them.” A sob tore from the man’s chest. “I killed our friends.”

Lachlan felt a rush of sympathy for the man. He’d been through hell and had a lot to come to terms with.

Rowan shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault, Lars. It was the artifact we pulled from the ice.”

The scientist gave a sad nod. “Dr. Sampson and Dr. Blackwell explained, but I remember, Rowan.” His voice cracked. “I remember their screams, and I’ll always remember.”

“We need your help, Lars.” Lachlan kept his tone crisp and commanding.

Lars straightened, swiping the tears from his face. “Okay.”

“Lars, this is Lachlan,” Rowan said. “He’s the leader of the team who rescued us from the base.”

“Lars, another person is under the influence of the artifact,” Lachlan said. “We need to find her and help her.”

Lars’ hands twisted in the sheets. “I just remember overwhelming feelings. Urges. I needed the cold, needed ice. I wanted to…hunt.” He shook his head. “I don’t really know how to describe it.”

“You’re doing fine,” Lachlan said. “That’s good.”

“Anything will help, Lars,” Rowan said.

Lars’ brow creased. “I remember I was looking for Rowan.”

Rowan glanced at Lachlan, but he kept his gaze on the man on the screen. The young scientist’s cheeks went pink.

“I, ah…I like her a lot.”

Lachlan forced a smile. He couldn’t blame the young guy, he had good taste. “There’s a lot to like.”

“He needs to rest,” Ty said.

“Take care, Lars,” Rowan said. “I’ll see you soon.”

The screen went black.

“You think she’ll try to see her husband and daughter?” Rowan said.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t help since she’s been caught by this group. Dammit.” Lachlan turned and barely resisted thumping his fist into the wall.

“Who are they?” Rowan asked.

“No idea, yet.”

“The man who shot me and the one I tangled with at the Cosmopolitan had accents. French, I think.”

Lachlan frowned. “Anything else?”

Her nose wrinkled. “He looked like a soldier.”

Brooks was back on the screen and listening. He looked at Rowan. “Any identifying marks? A scar?”

“No, I…” She frowned. “Wait. He had a tattoo on his wrist. A trident.”

Brooks started tapping. “Running a search now.” A moment later, he turned his tablet toward them. “This it?”

Rowan nodded. “That’s it.”

Brooks’ face turned serious. “European crime syndicate known as Legion de Mer. The Sea Legion. They’re on Interpol’s Most Wanted list, and are known for a whole host of ugly crimes.”

“They have any properties or links in Las Vegas?” Lachlan asked.

“That will be a slightly longer search,” Brooks said. “Leave it with me.”

Rowan had wandered over to the window. Lachlan watched her, seeing the way she wrapped her arms around her middle.

He moved up behind her. “We’ll find her.”

Rowan nodded. “I just want this to be over. To know that no more people will get hurt. For life to go back to normal.”

His muscles stiffened. So she could leave and forget this happened? Forget him?

He wrapped his arms around her. Hell no. He wasn’t going to let her go.

Everything in him went still. For years, he’d avoided relationships and kept his interactions with women casual. All his life, he’d worried the darkness he carried would make him change, like his dad.

But he wasn’t his father. Rowan was his, and everything inside him wanted to protect her, cherish her, ensure her happiness. He wouldn’t let anything hurt her, especially himself. He was going to stake his claim and convince her to stay.

But Lachlan knew that before he could do that, he had to find Airman Kowalski.

“Okay,” Brooks called out. “I got a hit.”

Keeping hold of Rowan’s hand, Lachlan pulled her back to the screen. “Tell us.”

“It’s a warehouse. Not far from where we lost track of the truck. I had to dig hard to find it, because a legitimate business runs out of it. One that stores props for Vegas shows. It was buried, but I found a link back to Legion de Mer. They own it and rent it out.”

“Call Blair and the others, Brooks. Tell them to meet us there.” Lachlan met Axel’s and Callie’s gazes. “Let’s go.”

Rowan stepped forward. “I’m coming.”

“No.” Lachlan’s gut rebelled. “I think it’s safer if you stay here. My condo has good security and now that these assholes have the artifact, they aren’t interested in you.”

“I’m seeing this through, Lachlan.”

Her words were firm and there was determination on her face.

“I want to help end this,” she said. “No, I need to help. And Aimee talked with me, connected with me. I could help.”

“Fuck.” He shoved his hand through his hair. He didn’t want her in danger again. “You just fell off a building, Rowan.”

“Twice,” Axel said.

Lachlan growled.

“I know, I was there.” Rowan grabbed his arm. “Please.”

“Lachlan—” Axel said.

He spun to face his teammate. “It’s been pure luck she hasn’t been killed.”

“But she’s right,” Axel said. “Airman Kowalski spoke to her. Rowan could help us contain her. We’ll keep her safe.”

“We all will,” Callie added. “Besides, you know she won’t just sit here quietly if you leave her behind.”

Lachlan ground his teeth together and glared at her. “You stay right beside me.”

Rowan nodded.

“You don’t run off into danger.”

Another nod.

He shook his head. “Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?”

She touched his arm. “Because I’ll do whatever I have to do to help. I don’t know what that might involve yet.”

Damn. Trust him to fall for a courageous woman who scared the hell out of him. “Let’s end this.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Wearing a bulletproof vest again, Rowan sat next to Axel in the back seat of the SUV as they sped toward the warehouse.

She was nervous. They had no idea what they were heading into, and the Legion de Mer didn’t sound like nice people.

She could feel the anger vibrating off Lachlan from the front seat. She sighed. She hated that he was upset and worried, but she had to do this. She had to do her part to help.

They stopped a block from the warehouse and slid out of the SUV. A moment later, Blair, Seth, and Smith appeared from nowhere.

Team 52 moved into formation, moving silently. Rowan found herself surrounded by them, and she tried to move as quietly as they did. She watched Lachlan every time he made a hand signal, his team responding like a well-oiled machine.

They reached the side door of the large warehouse. Smith moved forward. She watched him fiddle with the handle and then, with a nudge of his large shoulder, he broke the door open. They moved inside.

The place was huge. Rowan looked around. Sunlight filtered in from high windows. Rows of shelves filled the space, but unlike the Team 52 warehouse back at the base, this didn’t look orderly. The place was packed with stuff. The shelves were stacked to bursting with an array of odd items. Some were small, and others were huge. As they walked down a row, she took in painted horses, large feathers, scary-looking masks, and other pieces that looked like they definitely belonged on a stage.

She stared at a giant clown’s face and shivered. The place was more than a little creepy.

After another hand signal, Blair, Smith, and Seth peeled off, moving down a different row of shelves. Lachlan, Axel, and Callie stayed with Rowan.

From somewhere deep in the warehouse, she heard a roar.

Oh, God. Lachlan held up a closed fist and they stopped. Rowan peered around him and saw the glint of lights ahead.

Lachlan motioned for them to move cautiously. They crept forward, and ahead, the shelving units ended, giving way to a large, open space at the back of the warehouse. From the shadows, she could see Airman Kowalski covered in chains. Struggling soldiers were trying to get close to her and pry the artifact off her chest.

Aimee threw her head back and roared again.

“Just kill it,” one man muttered. “That should free the device.”

“Or fry it,” another said in accented English. “I do not want to be the one to explain to Caïd how we destroyed the artifact he wants.”

“Steady,” Lachlan murmured in his earpiece.

He pulled something off his belt. It looked like a small silver ball. He crouched and rolled it across the floor. She caught a brief glimpse of it rolling toward the Legion de Mer men.

Lachlan blocked her view. “Close your eyes.”

Rowan did as ordered. Bang.

“I can’t see!” someone yelled.

“Merde. What the fuck?”

Lachlan tapped her arm. She opened her eyes and peered over his shoulder. A bright light was fading, and several of the Legion soldiers were stumbling around, hands over their eyes.

“Now,” Lachlan ordered. His gold gaze locked on Rowan. “Stay.”

Then he turned and was gone, lifting his weapon. His team fell in behind him. They moved like ghosts—fast, steady, and badass.

Rowan stayed where she was, and watched Lachlan take down one soldier with ease. The rest of Team 52 engaged, slamming into soldiers. Gunfire echoed through the warehouse.

Then, Airman Kowalski cried out.

A soldier, the handsome man she’d fought with outside the Cosmopolitan, was jabbing at Aimee with a knife.

Dammit. Rowan glanced around the space. The rest of the team was busy subduing the soldiers.

Lachlan was going to kill her, but she had no choice. Straightening her shoulders, Rowan crept around the edge of the fight, circling closer to Aimee.

She pulled out the Glock Axel had given her. She snuck up behind the French soldier and pressed the gun to the base of his neck.

“Drop the knife, asshole,” she said.

The man spun, the knife streaking toward Rowan. Shit. Off balance, she still managed to pull the trigger.

With a shout, the man fell back, clutching his thigh.

“I warned you not to test me.” Rowan moved closer to Airman Kowalski. “It’s okay, Aimee.” She touched the chains, looking for a way to unlock them. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

Suddenly, the man she’d shot reared up. He rammed a fist into Rowan’s thigh.

Pain speared through her and her leg collapsed. She sprawled on the floor, the gun flying out of her hand.

Oh, shit. The man landed on top of her. With a grunt, she wrestled with him, trying to get him off her. He aimed a punch at her head, and she dodged the blow. She jammed her fingers into his eyes and he shouted.

Airman Kowalski leaned forward, rattling her chains. She strained against the metal, her muscles bulging.

The chains snapped.

Quickly, Aimee reached out and grabbed the soldier on top of Rowan. She lifted the man up and tossed him.

With a cry, he flew through the air, and slammed into some of the shelves. They toppled over with a crash, slamming into the next row of shelves.

Those shelves toppled, as well. Rowan’s eyes widened. Uh-oh. She watched the chain reaction of loaded shelves crashing like dominos.

A shadow fell over Rowan. She looked up at Aimee towering over her. The woman was still huge and menacing, and clearly enraged and upset. She let out a deafening roar.

Then the out-of-control woman grabbed Rowan with bruising hands.

“Hey, calm down—”

Aimee roared again, shaking Rowan until her teeth rattled.

Then the woman spun and took off running down one of the rows, dragging Rowan behind her.

LACHLAN KICKED the soldier in the gut, watching him fall. Once he was down, Lachlan slammed the butt of his weapon into the man’s face, knocking him out.

Nearby, Blair was fighting hand-to-hand with a young soldier. The man was dancing around, and Blair was clearly out of patience.

She stepped in, slammed a hard jab into the man’s face, then hooked her foot around his ankle.

She slammed him to the ground. “Stay. Still.”

From nearby, Axel chuckled.

Suddenly, Airman Kowalski roared. There was a loud crash as a storage shelf toppled over. Then another. And another.

What the fuck? They all spun, and Lachlan instantly looked for Rowan. The spot where he’d left her was empty. Dammit.

He turned again. Airman Kowalski was loping into an aisle between the shelves, dragging Rowan behind her.

“Fuck!” Blair kicked a shelf.

Airman Kowalski’s restraints were broken, and the twisted, broken body of a man lay near the shelves.

“After them!” Lachlan yelled.

He raced between the shelves. But Kowalski was fast, and he couldn’t see or hear them.

“There!” Seth cried.

Lachlan saw a trail of water leading off down another row of shelves.

“Brooks, be advised that Airman Kowalski is on the run and has Rowan.”

“Shit,” Brooks answered. “Acknowledged, Lachlan.”

Lachlan bolted, pumping his arms, his team just paces behind him. They reached the end of the row, and before them stood the metal exterior wall of the warehouse.

There was a huge hole torn in it, like a large creature had burst through it.

“Fuck.” Lachlan jumped through the opening. He spun, seeing no sign of Kowalski or Rowan on the street.

“Axel and Callie, get the vehicles.” The pair immediately ran off. “Everyone, spread out, and let’s try to pick up the trail.”

They fanned out. Lachlan tried to stay calm, his hands tight on his weapon. He should never have fucking let her talk him into this.

“Here,” Smith yelled.

He pointed to a faint trail of water that led down the street. They broke into a jog.

“Kowalski’s moving fast,” Smith said.

They turned down another street, and then crossed a parking lot.

“She’ll be fine,” Blair said. “She’s tough.”

“I’m locking her up after this,” Lachlan growled.

“Good luck with that,” Seth said.

Lachlan scowled at his friend. “One day, you’ll see.”

“Shit, you’re in love with her.” Seth blinked.

Love. That word was like a kick to Lachlan’s gut. He loved his mom, hell, he’d even loved his dad. But what he felt for them didn’t come close to this big, chaotic, warm feeling he felt for Rowan.

He’d give his life for Rowan. For the girl who distracted him from his father’s rages as a child. For the woman who was sexy, smart, courageous…and his.

“Lachlan?” Brooks’ voice came through his earpiece.

“I’m here. Go ahead.”

“There’s been a disturbance reported at Desert Springs Hospital.”

Damn. “That where Kowalski’s daughter is?”

“Yes, that’s where Jenny Kowalski is being treated.”

The SUVs roared up beside them. Lachlan yanked open the door, and glanced at Axel as the others piled in.

“Desert Springs Hospital. Now.”

As the SUV sped off, a muscle ticked in Lachlan’s jaw. Hold on, Rowan. I’m coming.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

She was cold. So cold.

Rowan stumbled down the hospital corridor, watching people screaming and running to get out of their way. Aimee was still holding Rowan’s arm in a fierce grip, and she knew it would be bruised. The woman’s touch was also freezing cold.

“Aimee, please—”

A rough jerk and a growl. Whatever the Legion de Mer soldiers had done to Aimee Kowalski had caused the woman to withdraw.

On their way into the hospital, Aimee had incapacitated the security guards who’d tried to stop them. Rowan saw doctors and nurses cowering, trying to protect the patients in the adjacent rooms. But Aimee wasn’t paying any attention to them as she powered down the hall.

Rowan’s teeth started to chatter. “Aimee, you’ll frighten your daughter.”

The woman paused, head tilted.

Rowan looked at the artifact on the woman’s chest. God, Rowan wished they’d never pulled the damn thing from the ice.

But right now, the most important thing was to contain it. To let Lachlan and his team lock it away so it couldn’t hurt anybody else.

Lachlan. Rowan trembled. She knew he and the others would be on their way. She also knew she’d endure his anger if it meant she was back in his arms. God, she was head over heels for that man.

Suddenly, she saw Aimee stiffen.

Rowan turned, expecting to see Team 52 coming toward them.

Her stomach fell. Instead, it was a group of men in red balaclavas holding weapons, slowly making their way down the hallway. Oh, no. The Red Wolves. Dammit to hell.

Aimee started backing up, but there was a whooshing sound from behind them. Rowan turned, just in time to see a net engulf Aimee. As the woman flailed, she knocked into Rowan, sending her crashing to the floor.

Rowan shot to her feet, just as the Red Wolves rushed in. “Stop!”

Aimee let out a roar that rattled the windows. Someone tackled Rowan, and she hit the floor again, hard. The breath was knocked out of her and she tried to fight. But her attacker was bigger and heavier, and she felt a knee press into her lower back, holding her down.

Her gaze went to Aimee, who was struggling with the net.

“Don’t hurt her!” Rowan yelled.

“Hold the creature down,” a voice called out.

Rowan struggled, and the man holding her pushed down harder. He pressed a hand to the floor beside Rowan’s head. She sucked in a breath. There was a Trident tattoo on his wrist.

They were Legion de Mer. They were only pretending to be Red Wolves.

She couldn’t let them get the artifact.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” She struggled again.

The man crouched, his face close to hers, his gray eyes were depthless and cold.

“I assure you, Dr. Schafer, I know exactly what I’m doing.” This man’s accent was definitely French. “That weapon is very valuable. Reverse engineered, I can sell it to the world’s militaries.” He smiled now, but it was icy. “Imagine a new breed of super-soldier suits. I’ll be the wealthiest man on the planet.”

“It’s too dangerous,” she insisted.

He gave her a shrug. “Life is dangerous.” He lifted his balaclava a little and she saw that the bottom half of his face was scarred, much like Seth’s. “Better to have weapons to protect you and yours.”

Aimee threw herself backward, sending one of the men crashing into the wall. Two big men stepped forward, holding long prods. As they jammed them into Aimee, her body shuddered, and she made pained noises.

God, they were really hurting her. Rowan tasted bile as she watched. Another soldier, this one a sandy-haired female, knelt down. She reached through the net and gripped the artifact. She tugged, trying to pry it off Aimee’s chest.

The woman shook her head. “I think we’ll have to kill the host.” This woman’s accent was South African.

The scarred man stood, yanking Rowan to her feet. “Very well.”

“No.” Rowan slammed herself into the man. She managed to knock the man off balance, and together, they stumbled into the wall.

Someone grabbed her arms and wrenched them back painfully. She was dragged off the scarred man.

He scowled at her, straightening and tugging on the hem of his shirt. Then he swung out, backhanding her.

Ow. Rowan tasted blood and pain detonated across her cheek.

“A bad choice, Dr. Schafer.”

“I’d do it again, asshole.”

“Sir,” a soldier called out.

Rowan swiveled and her breath caught.

Lachlan was running down the hallway, holding his high-tech rifle. God, did the damn man think he was impervious to bullets? Her heart leaped into her throat.

The soldiers opened fire and Lachlan dived into a side room.

And that’s when bodies dropped from the ceiling panels, right on top of the balaclava-clad men around her.

Rowan watched Blair launch into a roundhouse kick, taking down a soldier. Smith slammed two men together. Axel, Seth, and Callie exploded into action.

Her heart soared. Team 52 had arrived.

LACHLAN SPUN around the corner and charged toward the fight.

He fired his CXM and when he was close enough, launched into the fight. Kick. Jab. Cross. One soldier went down and Lachlan spun, dropping to one knee. He rammed his fist into another soldier’s gut.

Ahead, Blair and Seth were fighting together. They were taking on three balaclava-clad soldiers. Blair kicked a weapon from one man’s hand, and then jabbed the heel of her palm into the man’s nose. Seth spun, slamming a punch into the neck of another.

Nearby, Callie fired on two others, while Smith fought with his usual strength and debilitating blows. Axel looked like he was out for an evening stroll—all fluid grace and casual ease. But he packed a punch that got the job done.

Lachlan’s gaze locked on Rowan. There was more swelling on her face, and his jaw clenched. Someone would pay.

He punched another soldier hard enough that the man slammed into the wall.

Rowan was crawling over to where Airman Kowalski lay on the ground, moving sluggishly.

“Rowan.” Lachlan dropped down beside her.

She reached for him, hugging him tight. “God, Lachlan.”

“You’re okay?” She was whole and in his arms again. Thank God.

She nodded. “We need to help Aimee.”

Lachlan pulled out his knife and quickly cut off the net. The woman lay prone on the ground, her chest heaving.

“We need to get the artifact off her.” Rowan reached out with cautious hands, touching the artifact.

Lachlan kept one eye on the fight. The bastards were almost all taken care of. “The Legion assholes couldn’t remove it.”

“Because they were hurting her and she was agitated.” Rowan leaned over Aimee. “Aimee, you need to relax and let it go.”

Milky eyes locked with Rowan’s, and Airman Kowalski let out a shuddering breath. Her tense muscles relaxed.

The artifact came off in Rowan’s hand.

Kowalski’s body began to shrink back to normal, her skin turning pink again. In seconds, there was a naked, exhausted woman lying on the floor.

She started sobbing.

Lachlan jumped up and grabbed a sheet off a nearby gurney. “Here.”

She carefully laid the sheet over Aimee. “It’s going to be okay.”

Lachlan grabbed a towel and handed it to Rowan. “Wrap the artifact up.” The last thing they needed was for it to get accidentally activated again.

“I’m so sorry,” Kowalski croaked, grabbing Rowan’s hand. “I should never have done this.”

Lachlan pressed his lips together. “There’s time to talk about that later.”

Desperate brown eyes caught his. “I was in a terrible place.” Her voice cracked. “My daughter, the bills. It was relentless.”

“But you didn’t hand the artifact over,” Rowan said quietly. “That’s the main thing.”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t betray my country. I’d do anything for my daughter, but I couldn’t do that.” Aimee’s grip tightened on Rowan. “A mother makes sacrifices for her child. It doesn’t matter if that child is perfect or a perfect mess. I love her so much. No matter what she’s done, I love her just as she is.”

Lachlan saw the look that crossed Rowan’s face. She looked like she’d been hit hard. He touched her shoulder and squeezed.

“Every child deserves that.” Aimee Kowalski began crying quietly.

“Mom?”

They all looked up. A wan-looking teenage girl was leaning into the stocky man beside her.

The man’s agonized gaze locked on Kowalski’s face. “Aimee?”

The pair rushed toward Kowalski, throwing their arms around her. Rowan and Lachlan stepped back.

“You all right?” he asked.

Rowan shook her head. “No. I just fully realized that all the time I’ve spent trying to get some scrap of affection from my parents was a big waste of time.”

“Rowan.”

She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “They don’t love me.” Her gaze fell on the Kowalskis. “Not like that. And it doesn’t matter what I do, what degrees I have, what man I’m with, they never will. And that’s on them, not me.”

“I think you’re pretty darn amazing, Rowan Schafer.”

She smiled. “Good, because I am.”

Down the hall, Lachlan spotted the police arriving. He caressed her jaw. “I need to sort this out.”

She nodded. “Go.”

He nodded to the artifact. “Keep that out of sight.”

“Yes, sir.” She tossed him a really bad salute.

He ran his thumb down her cheekbone. When he turned, he saw his team rounding up the last of the Legion soldiers.

Lachlan talked to the police, supervising the Legion soldiers being cuffed and read their rights. Those that were conscious watched sullenly. Blair took over managing Kowalski and her family.

Every time he glanced at Rowan, he noticed she was shivering. Damn, he wished he could hurry this along.

When Callie passed him, he grabbed the medic’s arm. “Can you find Rowan a blanket? She’s cold.”

“Sure.” Callie scanned around. “Where is she?”

Lachlan looked back to where she’d been standing. She wasn’t there.

His body stiffened and he strode forward. Lying on the floor was the towel he’d asked her to wrap the artifact in.

“Lachlan?” Blair appeared beside him, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Rowan’s missing.”

His team all looked around, going on alert.

The heavy thud of Lachlan’s own pulse filled his ears. Rowan was gone. And so was the artifact.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Rowan skirted around the empty hospital bed, keeping it between her and the scarred man she’d tangled with earlier.

He’d yanked her away while no one was looking, and pulled her into a room.

“Just hand over the device, Dr. Schafer.”

“Not going to happen,” she said.

Rowan edged closer to the window and glanced out. It was several stories to the ground below. She could probably climb out, but she was pretty sure Lachlan would lose his mind if she fell off another building.

The man edged closer and she grabbed some medical machine sitting nearby. As he came at her, she shoved the machine at him.

He batted it aside.

“The others will be here soon,” she said. “You have nowhere to go.”

“I’m used to moving quietly and making sure no one sees me. No one saw me grab you.”

“I’m not giving you the artifact.” She shook her head. “You know, I survived a terrible attack, I’ve fallen off buildings, I’ve been kidnapped multiple times, and I just realized that I’m loveable just as I am, and have a super-hot guy who I think has feelings for me. I am not letting you screw up my life!”

The man looked at her like she’d lost her mind, but took a step closer.

“Leave her alone.”

The tremulous voice came from a nearby bed. Rowan glanced over at the elderly woman glaring at the man. When he spun to look at the woman, Rowan lunged, kicking him.

She’d fight. Lachlan would come. She knew he would. She wasn’t alone anymore.

With a growl, the man charged at her. Rowan leaped over the empty bed.

But hands sank into the back of her shirt and yanked her back. She fell to the floor, kicking and screaming.

The man spun her around and she managed to kick him in the gut. When he staggered back, she scrambled up. But the second she turned to run, she felt a cord slip around her neck.

No. The cord pulled hard, driving her to her knees. She tried to grab hold of it, choking. It felt like an electrical cable from one of the medical machines.

Rowan coughed, trying to pull in air. The man reached around and grabbed the artifact out of her hand.

“Thank you for finding this marvelous piece of technology. I will ensure it finds its way into the hands of many people, who will make good use of it.” He laughed. “And pay me a lot of money. It should keep things interesting.”

Black splotches swam in Rowan’s vision. She was running out of air. No. It wasn’t fair. Right now, she realized that she was falling in love with Lachlan Hunter.

The boy who’d cared about her, was now a man who liked her just as she was. A man she knew she could love.

The door burst open and Lachlan ran in, his face hard.

He lifted his weapon, aiming it at the man holding her.

“No farther,” the man tugged her back. “I’ll kill her.”

“Rowan.”

She met Lachlan’s gaze, trusting him with everything she had. She dropped her head forward.

He didn’t hesitate. Bang.

The cord released and the man behind Rowan fell backward.

She tore the cord off and turned. The man was on one knee, one side of his face covered in blood. He shook his head, dazed. Lachlan’s bullet had grazed him.

With a roar, the man launched himself past Rowan and at Lachlan.

The men collided. Rowan gripped the nearby bed to stay upright. The fight was vicious, both grunting as they traded blows.

They crashed into a tray on wheels and it flew into the wall. The old lady in the bed cried out. The men punched and kicked. They spun, slamming into an empty bed, sending it sliding.

Then the Legion man grabbed something off a tray. He held the scalpel up, clearly abandoned by a fleeing nurse or doctor, and leaped at Lachlan. Rowan gasped. They crashed to the floor and out of her view.

She rubbed her neck, trying to pull more air into her lungs. Where were the rest of Team 52?

She looked over at the elderly lady. “Are you all right?”

Wide-eyed, the woman nodded before her gaze returned to the brutal fight on the floor.

Rowan needed to help Lachlan. She scanned the room and spotted an empty IV stand. She snatched it up like a bat and circled the bed.

The men were rolling around on the floor, getting in hits and kicks. The floor was smeared with blood, and she prayed it wasn’t Lachlan’s.

They separated for a second, and she had a clear shot. She whacked the Legion man in the gut. He howled.

“Take that, asshole.”

He launched at Lachlan again. Any time she could, she whacked the man with the stand.

Suddenly, the rest of Team 52 burst into the room.

“Hell.” Blair raced forward and waded into the fray.

Callie appeared beside Rowan. “You okay?” She gently pushed the IV stand back to the ground, her gaze on Rowan’s bruised neck.

Rowan nodded. She saw Seth and Smith yank the French man up. He was covered in blood, and one eye was swollen.

Rowan lunged forward and slammed her fist into the man’s gut.

He grunted and doubled over. She snatched the artifact out of his hand. “Asshole.”

“Easy.” Callie pulled her back.

Seth spun the man, yanked his hands behind his back, and marched him out of the room.

Rowan looked at Lachlan. Her chest locked. He wasn’t standing. He was still lying on the ground.

“Callie,” Blair snapped.

The medic rushed over.

No. No. No. Panic was like acid in Rowan’s veins. She scrambled over and dropped to her knees. “Lachlan?”

“Hold on there, chica.” Axel appeared, wrapping his arms around her from behind and holding her in place.

But she saw Lachlan.

He was sprawled on the floor, the scalpel stuck in the side of his neck. There was a pool of blood on the tiles, spreading out beneath him.

“No!” Rowan cried, sagging against Axel.

Despair swamped her, carving her out inside. She’d never had anything or anyone before, she couldn’t lose him.

LACHLAN FOUGHT THROUGH THE PAIN, gritting his teeth.

Callie tore his vest and shirt open. Then she yanked out the scalpel and Lachlan swallowed a groan. His medic pressed wadded cloth against the wound. “Missed the artery and luckily for you, hit some of the wiring for your prosthetic.”

Lachlan grunted.

“All easily fixed. You’re going to live a long and healthy life.” Callie grinned.

“No painkillers.”

“You’re such a freaking baby about needles.”

Lachlan heard Rowan scuffling with Axel.

“Chiquita, you try and kick me there again, my mama will be disappointed that she can’t have grandkids.”

“Let me go.” She wrenched free and dropped down beside him. “Lachlan.”

Her face was white. God, there were tears in her eyes.

“Please be okay.” She touched his cheek. “Please.”

There was a sharp sting as Callie slid a syringe into his arm. He grimaced. The sneaky woman.

“Lachlan.” Rowan’s face spasmed, clearly thinking his grimace was because of his injury. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Rowan—”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “This might sound crazy…but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Lachlan’s breath froze in his chest. He looked past Rowan to see his team grinning at him like idiots. Axel gave him a thumbs-up.

“Please.” A tear slid down Rowan’s cheek. “I’ve never had anyone care about me like you do. I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else.”

Enough. Lachlan surged up to sit and dragged Rowan into his lap.

She let out a squeak. “You’re…you’re not dying?”

“No, sweetheart.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Or horribly injured?”

“Well, it is a nasty cut, but Callie took care of it.”

The woman in question winked. “You lost a fair bit of blood, so go easy.”

Lachlan cupped Rowan’s cheeks. “So, you’re falling in love with me?”

Color filled her cheeks. “Oh, well…”

“You can’t take it back now.”

“I thought you were dying.”

“You still can’t take it back.”

She huffed out a breath. “Fine. Yes.”

“You want to stay with me and be mine?”

Now she smiled. “Maybe.”

Lachlan rested his forehead against hers. “I think I started falling in love with you when you were eight, and looked at me through that hole in the fence.”

Warmth bloomed in her eyes. She pressed her lips to his, and Lachlan took his time kissing her.

“Okay, enough.” Seth made a gagging noise. “I’m gonna be sick.”

A smiling Blair helped them up. “Happy for you guys, but we have a job to finish.” She nodded at the artifact that Rowan was still holding.

Axel held out a blue scrub shirt, and she set it in the fabric. Lachlan shook his head. Damn thing had caused all this trouble, but the upside was it had brought Rowan back into his life.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and scowled at her. “No more fighting with bad guys for you.”

“Well, I did consider climbing out the window, but I figured if I fell again you’d have an aneurysm.”

Lachlan grimaced. “No more joking about falling off roofs.”

“Young man.”

They all swiveled to face the old lady propped up in the bed nearby.

“Your young woman has been through a lot, and it appears she loves you very much.” The woman smiled. “Humor an old lady and kiss her again.”

Axel barked out a laugh.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lachlan said.

“And please don’t do your shirt up yet, either.” The old lady winked.

With laughter welling inside him, Lachlan pulled a smiling Rowan closer and kissed her. Around them, his teammates laughed.

“GOD, ROWAN.”

Lachlan’s deep voice shivered through her. She kept riding him, her palms pressed against his chest. She rose and fell again, his hard cock filling her up.

They were in his room at the Area 52 base. Lachlan gripped her hips, driving her down harder. She moaned.

“I love being inside you,” he growled.

Her gaze locked with his. His eyes were glittering. “I love you being inside me.”

He thrust his hips up. “I could stay here forever.”

“Lachlan.” She felt her orgasm drawing closer. He ran his hands down her body, over her belly, and found her clit.

Rowan bit her lip, sensations flowing through her.

“Tell me.” His hand stilled.

She made a sound and ground against his fingers. “What?”

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded.

Warmth bloomed in her chest. “I love you, Lachlan Hunter. You’re all mine.”

He flicked her clit and she came. She tried not to scream, but everything inside her was too strong.

Lachlan reared up. “I love you, too, Rowan.” His mouth captured hers and he swallowed her cries. A moment later, his big body shuddered and he groaned through his own release.

When he lay back on the mattress, he tucked her into his side.

“I want to stay here, but I’m guessing we need to check in,” she said.

When they’d arrived back at base, Airman Kowalski had been whisked away for monitoring and processing. The artifact had been handed over to an overprotective Arlo and Ty.

Jonah Grayson had scheduled a debriefing.

“Yeah.” Lachlan stroked her back. He was silent for a moment. “I want you to move in with me.”

She sucked in a breath and looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really. I want you in my bed. I want to bring you coffee every morning, and watch you bake something chocolate in my kitchen every night. I want to hold you while you tell me about your day. I just want you in my life. You make it brighter. You make it matter.”

She swallowed, so much emotion swelling inside her. “I can make some calls about finding work.”

“I have a better idea.” He flicked a finger at her nose. “Why don’t you go back and study? Or take a baking class?”

She sucked in a breath. God. She imagined choosing what she wanted to do. “I always wanted to study archeology.”

He smiled. “I know.” Then his face turned serious. “I’m away sometimes. But knowing that I was coming home to you—”

She kissed him. “I’d be waiting.”

Lachlan went still. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes! I’ll move in with you.”

His smile was huge, and he kissed her again. It was just turning heated when there was a thump on the door.

“Some people work around here, you know.” Blair’s voice. “The director’s waiting.”

“Duty calls,” Lachlan murmured.

“I think I’ll go and check on Lars.” She kissed his jaw.

After they’d changed, Lachlan dropped her off at the lab with a final hard kiss. Rowan went first to check in on Aimee Kowalski, who was currently sedated, but showing signs of improvement. She found Lars sitting with her.

“Hey.” Rowan smiled and hugged him.

He gave her a small smile. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

Lars shrugged. “Hanging in there.” He looked at Aimee. “It’s been good talking with Airman Kowalski.”

Rowan imagined having someone who understood what they’d been through helped. “That’s good.” They talked about innocuous topics for a while.

“They’re going to let me go home soon.” Lars looked at the floor. “I’m not sure I want to go home, or to work, or go back to my research.”

“Take your time.” She placed her hand on his. “There’s no rush, Lars. Time will help heal the wounds.”

He nodded. “What about you?”

“Oh, well, I’m moving to Las Vegas.”

Lars looked surprised. “Really?”

The door opened and Lachlan strode in. He nodded at Lars, then stopped beside Rowan. He tipped her head up and dropped a kiss to her lips.

Shaking off the daze Lachlan’s kisses always seemed to generate, she looked back at Lars. “Ah, I don’t think you two have officially met. Lars, this is Lachlan Hunter, leader of Team 52.”

“Hi.” Lars nodded at Lachlan, a mixture of both understanding and disappointment on his face. Then his gaze moved back to Rowan. “Be happy, Rowan.”

“You, too, Lars.”

Lachlan tugged her up and led her back toward the rec room. All of Team 52 were waiting outside, and several guards flanked the elevator.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“An archeologist we’ve worked with before is bringing in an object.”

Axel appeared. “Hope it’s not one of those Treasure Hunter Security assholes.”

“No,” Lachlan said. “It’s Dr. January James.”

Seth straightened. “Not that witch.”

“Seth—” Lachlan’s voice held a warning.

Rowan watched the super-cool Seth’s cheeks flush with color along his cheekbones. “She’s impossible.”

“You did threaten her,” Blair said. “Her behavior was justified.”

“I was trying to save her from a dangerous piece of ancient technology. She hit me over the head with a metal pole!”

Callie nodded. “Knocked him out cold and left him with a black eye.”

Rowan bit her lip, trying not to laugh. She caught Blair’s gaze, and the other woman burst out laughing. The others all chuckled, and even Smith had a smile on his face.

Seth crossed his arms over his chest.

The elevator doors opened and a petite brunette in khaki cargo pants, with a white shirt tucked into a narrow waist, strode out holding the handle of a metal suitcase.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Seth

Seth Lynch stared at the woman who worked every one of his nerves. As she walked in boldly—like she owned the place—he gritted his teeth.

“Commander Hunter.” Dr. James nodded at Lachlan. She had a smoky voice that would have been sexy on any other woman.

When her gaze met Seth’s, he saw something flare in their hazel depths. He was pretty sure she was fighting not to bare her teeth at him.

“Lynch,” she said.

“James.”

Lachlan cleared his throat. “I hope your flight was okay?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“What have you brought us?” Lachlan waved her into the rec room.

Dr. James hefted the metal case onto one of the tables, spinning the locks sealing it. “I’m currently running a dig in Guatemala, deep in the jungle. Lidar scans have helped us locate thousands of previously undiscovered Mayan ruins belonging to the Mayan Snake Kings.”

“That sounds fascinating,” Rowan said.

Dr. James looked at Rowan. “We haven’t met.”

“Dr. Rowan Schafer, Dr. January James.” Lachlan introduced them.

The women shook hands.

“A pleasure,” Dr. James said. “And yes, the dig is fascinating.”

Seth leaned back against the table, and watched the woman’s face light up as she spoke. He couldn’t argue about her passion for her work. Shame she was a shrew.

“One of my grad students dug up this artifact.” James opened the case.

Inside was nestled a perfect crystal sphere the size of a tennis ball.

“Doesn’t look like much,” Seth said.

She shot him a look that seared like battery acid. “My student is in the hospital. It zapped him and stopped his heart.”

Ty moved forward. “Hi, January.”

The woman smiled. It turned her face from pretty into something else. “Ty.”

“I’ll take it from here.” Ty snapped the case closed and lifted it.

“Thanks, January,” Lachlan said. “We appreciate you bringing it in.”

She arched a brow. “I’ll be sending you a bill for my flights.”

Lachlan smiled. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you out,” Seth said.

The archeologist nodded at the rest of the team and swiveled. As she headed toward the elevator, Seth fell into step beside her.

“Want to make sure I definitely leave, huh?” she said.

“Hell, yeah.” Inside the elevator, he jabbed at the button. The doors closed, and they moved smoothly upward.

“So, still digging in the dirt?” he said.

“Still attacking unsuspecting people?”

He faced her, his anger sparking. “I have a job to do, and you know why.”

“Doesn’t mean I like how you do it.” She turned to him as well. “And I dislike all the secrecy.”

“I’m so cut up by your low opinion.” Sarcasm dripped off his words.

She stepped closer, her boots brushing his. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch.”

She smiled that gorgeous smile again. “I’m so wounded.”

She was such a ball buster. He lowered his head and she lifted her chin, their faces only inches apart.

The doors opened. Seth hadn’t even felt the elevator stop.

“Sir?” A guard peered in. “Ma’am?”

“Safe trip back to your dirt,” Seth said.

“Have a good time terrifying innocent people.” She pivoted and strode off the elevator with that confident sway of her hips.

Seth’s gaze fell to her pert ass. Shame she was such a harpy.

ROWAN SHUT HER BRIEFCASE. “I’m off. Have a great weekend.”

“You too.” Dr. Sofia Lopez smiled at her. “It really is a pleasure having you here, Rowan. We’re lucky to have you.”

Rowan smiled. She was making friends at the University of Nevada – Las Vegas, and enjoying both her new job and her studies. She’d been lucky to find a part-time teaching position in her hydrology field, and she was taking some archeology classes as well. She’d also enrolled in some chocolate-making classes with the executive pastry chef at the Paris Casino. The woman specialized in chocolate created in-house with special cacao beans sourced from the best farms located twenty degrees north and south of the equator. Lachlan was loving all of Rowan’s creations.

Her smile widened. Life was good.

As they headed down the hall, Dr. Chad Winston, from the Geosciences Department, swept in to join them.

“Ladies.” He shot them a wide smile. He was handsome in a typical, clean-cut way, with a tailored suit and carefully groomed hair.

He was a nice enough guy, but he had a pretty high opinion of himself.

“I’ll walk you out.” He made the offer to both of them, but he was looking at Rowan.

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure we can make it,” Rowan said.

“You can’t be too careful,” Chad replied. “There was some sort of crime rampage in Las Vegas a few weeks ago.”

Rowan tightened her hold on her briefcase. Nope, just one out-of-control, high-tech artifact.

Aimee Kowalski had recovered and been transferred to a military prison. She’d do some time for her actions, but from what Lachlan had told Rowan, the woman had wanted to make amends. Rowan had organized a fundraiser to help with Jenny Kowalski’s medical bills, and contributed a chunk of her own money. Jenny was recovering from her liver transplant, and the Kowalskis now didn’t have to worry about their finances.

As Rowan walked out of the building and into the afternoon sunshine, Chad prattled on about the tickets to a show he had.

“It’s a magic show on ice at the MGM.”

Rowan bit back a smile.

“Rowan, I have a spare ticket.” He upped the wattage on his smile. “Maybe we could grab dinner before the show?”

She smiled. “Sorry. I have plans with my man.”

Chad snorted. “You keep saying you have a boyfriend, but we’ve never met him.”

“He travels for work, but actually, he’s picking me up today.” Rowan was so excited. Lachlan had been away on a mission for the last few days in Washington DC, helping the FBI.

Chad made an unhappy sound. As they headed down the steps, Sofia leaned in close.

“The man has two PhDs, but he can’t read a subtle clue. He thinks that anyone with fewer PhDs than him can’t be good enough.”

Rowan grinned. “Lachlan doesn’t need any PhDs.”

At the bottom of the steps, Chad grabbed Rowan’s arm. “Please reconsider, Rowan. We’d have a good time.”

“Sorry, Chad.” She extricated her arm. “I’m happily in love. Thanks, though.” She turned and spotted Lachlan leaning against his motorbike, ankles crossed.

His faded jeans showcased muscular thighs, and his tight, black T-shirt hugged that mouthwatering, hard chest and biceps. Cool mirrored shades covered his eyes.

“My God,” Sofia breathed.

Rowan didn’t blame the woman. Her own ovaries did a little quiver. Mine. All mine.

With a distracted wave to her colleagues, she raced toward her man. He met her, sweeping her up into his arms.

His kiss was hard and deep, and left her breathless.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi.” He pressed his nose to hers. “You smell good.”

“Missed you,” she said.

“Missed you, too.” His voice lowered. “Who’s the douchebag? If he touches you again, I’ll break his arm.”

“He’s nothing to worry about.”

Lachlan turned his head, looking at Sofia and Chad. “Afternoon.”

Sofia waved and when Lachlan looked at Chad, he nudged his sunglasses down. Just a glimpse of Lachlan’s eyes made goose bumps break out on Rowan’s skin, and she saw Chad swallow.

“Lachlan,” she whispered. “You can’t kill him.” She leaned up and nipped Lachlan’s jaw. “There is only one man I want. Only one man I love.”

His arms tightened around her. “Rowan.”

“Bye, Rowan.” Sofia waved again, her smile huge. “Have a great weekend.”

Chad nodded cautiously and hurried to his car.

Lachlan handed Rowan her helmet. “Ready?”

Always. “Ready.”

She sat on the bike behind him, loving when the engine throbbed. She wrapped her arms around him.

He turned back. “You’re the only woman I love. The only woman I’ve ever loved.” He squeezed her thigh.

Love chased the scary out of his eyes, and she smiled at him.

As they pulled out of the university parking lot, Rowan pressed against his broad back. It was hard to believe that from the worst, scariest, most terrifying moment of her life, the most amazing, important thing had emerged.

As they zoomed off down the street, Rowan thought of Lars and Aimee. She thought of Isabel, Emily, Samuel, Amara, and the others.

Rowan vowed that she’d live every day for them and for herself. She’d live, laugh, and love with her man.

LACHLAN FLIPPED the burger patty on the grill. The sun was shining, he had a beer in his hand, his friends around him, and his woman was close by.

And they all had a weekend off. Bliss.

He looked up, watching his team eating and laughing. They had staked out a part of Sunset Park, enjoying the sunshine.

Rowan walked over, holding a tray of marinated chicken for him to cook. She smiled.

Damn. He felt warmth in his chest. He’d never felt this…content. Happy. Complete.

She’d moved into his condo, adding splashes of color and life. He was also pretty sure he was going to gain a few pounds from the endless chocolate creations she made for him. Not that he cared, because her baking was awesome. She was also loving her work and studies at the university. Last week, he’d even taken a few days off and they’d flown to New York so they could get the last of her things and meet her mother. That had been…interesting.

Dr. Kathleen Schafer had been arctic, and made it clear she was unimpressed with her daughter’s choice of partner.

Lachlan hadn’t given a shit. He’d hated seeing Rowan so on edge, though. Not that she cared any longer what her mother said to her, but she’d worried about what her mother would say to him.

“She’ll be rude,” Rowan had warned.

“Sweetheart, I love you. As long as you love me, I don’t care what your mother thinks.”

Rowan had relaxed after that. At the end of a tense dinner, Rowan had left to use the restroom.

Kathleen Schafer had leaned forward. “You’re not what I would have chosen for my daughter.”

He stayed silent.

“But I see the way you look at her.” The woman sipped her drink. “I’m not an emotional woman. I know Rowan thinks I don’t care about her…but I do want her to be happy.”

“I don’t really care what you think, Dr. Schafer. But I will tell you that I love Rowan. I’d die for her.”

“And kill for her.” The older woman tilted her head. “I know there’s more to your work, and more to what happened in Canada and Las Vegas than either of you have let on.”

He knew the woman was a genius, and again, he stayed silent.

“Take care of her,” Dr. Schafer said.

“Always.”

“Hey.” Rowan leaned into him, bringing him from the past to the present. He flipped another burger.

“Hey.”

She set the tray of chicken down. “Happy?”

“More than you know.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

“God, you two.” Seth tipped his beer back. “Enough with the mushy stuff.”

Nearby, Axel snatched up a frisbee. “Who wants to take me on?”

Blair jumped off the picnic table where she’d been sitting. “Prepare to go down, Diaz.”

Axel snorted. “Bring it, Mason.” Then he turned his head, his sharp gaze landing on Natalie’s date. A lean, handsome professor from the university. A man that had made Axel scowl the minute he’d joined them.

“What about you, Prof? Up for it?”

The man blinked. “Uh, sure.”

“Axel.” Nat’s tone held a thread of warning.

Axel held up his hands and shot her grin. “I’ll be gentle with him.”

Nat glared at him. But before the frisbee could go anywhere, everyone’s cellphones beeped.

Fuck. Lachlan pulled his cell out and watched concern cross Rowan’s face.

He pressed the phone to his ear. “Brooks?” He listened as the man spoke. Damn. “We’re on our way.”

As he tucked the phone away, he leaned down and kissed Rowan. “Sorry to leave you with the cleanup.”

“Don’t worry, Nat and I will take care of it.”

“I’ll let you know when I’ll be back.”

She went up on her toes and kissed him again. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here.”

And he knew she would be. Waiting for him. “Love you.”

She smiled. “Right back at you.”

“Stay out of trouble.”

She pulled a face and he kissed her again. Then he nodded to his team and they headed toward the SUVs.

“What have we got?” Blair asked.

“Problem at January James’ dig in Guatemala.”

His team snapped to attention.

“January sent word that she found something else. She was planning to fly out of the site today.”

“And?” Seth asked, face tense.

“The plane crashed in dense jungle. The authorities think it’ll take days to reach the crash site.” His gut hardened. “They said no one could have survived the crash.”

“Damn,” Blair murmured. “I liked her.”

Lachlan had as well. Seth just stared, something indefinable radiating off him.

“Brooks said there’s more.” Lachlan paused beside the Suburban. “He said the plane didn’t crash. It was brought down.”

“By?” Seth demanded.

“Don’t know. But we have to assume whoever was responsible was after January’s artifact.”

Seth yanked open the driver’s side door. “Let’s get moving, then.”

Lachlan nodded, sliding into the car. Time for his team to do what they did best.

Across the grass, he caught sight of Rowan. She raised her hand in farewell.

He lifted his chin and smiled. He loved his job, but even more than that, he loved knowing he’d be coming home to his woman. A woman who loved him, just as he was, and a woman who made everything worthwhile. He’d wade through the muck every day for Rowan.

She blew him a kiss and inside him, he only felt the light. Best damn feeling in the world.

I hope you enjoyed Rowan and Lachlan’s story!

Team 52 continues with Seth’s story, Mission: Her Rescue, set in the dense Guatemalan jungle. For more action-packed romance, read on for a preview.

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PREVIEW: MISSION - HER RESCUE

She ducked through the opening in the canvas and into her tent. The plane was taking off shortly and she needed to be on it.

Dr. January James pulled out her backpack and stuffed a change of clothes inside, along with her tablet and e-reader. Then, she carefully pulled the metal briefcase out from beneath her camp bed, opened it, and checked that the artifacts were secure. Both were securely wrapped in heavy covers and nestled in foam. She closed the case and locked it.

She released a breath. She wasn’t happy about leaving her archeological dig again. She’d already made one trip with an artifact that needed securing. Now, she had to leave her team to keep working while she suffered through plane food, airports, and having to sleep in a chair.

She swung her backpack over her shoulder, grabbed the metal case, and stepped outside.

Warm, damp air hit her face.

Dense jungle closed in around the archeological site. A pyramid sat in the center of the space. It didn’t look like much yet. Unlike the stunning, restored structures at Guatemala’s more famous Tikal, this pyramid resembled a muddy hill, rather than a breathtaking monument.

Her team had worked hard to uncover the lowest foundations, and some of the intricate stonework was now visible. Several of her team were crouched there now, working under a tarpaulin that had been strung up between some trees. The central staircase leading to the pyramid’s peak had also been uncovered, and another tarpaulin protected the team who was inside the structure. The rest of the pyramid was still covered in layers of mud, and several trees grew out of the sides of it, rising up to tangle with the rest of the thick, jungle canopy.

A mosquito buzzed around January’s face and she waved her arm. It had taken her team days of hard chopping and slashing to cut the vegetation off the pyramid. It had been buried under the densest concentration of jungle growth she’d ever seen.

Almost like someone had wanted to hide it.

Her archeologists were busy working at various locations around the dig. Kevin had a trench open at the base of the pyramid. Javier had several grad students spread out over a grid on the eastern side of the site. And Krista was no doubt busy in the pyramid.

January should have known that the mysterious Mayan Kaanul Dynasty—known as the Snake Kings—were keeping secrets.

No one had known about their existence until a few decades ago. Even now, they were still shrouded in mystery.

Tikal was one of the most famous and popular archeological locations in Guatemala. But now Tikal’s rivals, the powerful, ambitious Snake Kings—represented by the symbol of the snake head—were coming into the light. The power the dynasty wielded was now being rediscovered from the jungle that had hidden it for so long. Excitement spurted through her veins. There was so much still to uncover, and that always excited January.

She headed toward the small bush runway, a tiny strip where the jungle had been hacked back. The plane was waiting.

“January!”

She turned, and a dark-haired woman wearing the same outfit as January—khaki cargo pants and a deep-green shirt—fell into step with her.

“Wanted to say goodbye.”

“Take care of my dig, Qian,” January said.

The Chinese archeologist grinned. “We were planning to sit back and sip margaritas while you were gone.”

January mock scowled. “No slacking.”

“Not to worry. We’ll be here, digging up to our eyeballs in the mud, and waiting for you to get back from a few nights on clean planes and in comfy hotel rooms.”

January grabbed her friend’s hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about us. You were due for a week off a month ago.”

Tilting her head, January tried to remember the last time she’d been home to San Francisco. Nope, she couldn’t remember. Her apartment would be covered in a few layers of dust. “I don’t need time off.” She loved her work. She loved the primal vibe of the jungle.

Qian’s dark eyes gleamed. “We won’t fall apart without you.”

“You’re supposed to pretend I’m vitally important.”

“You are. Your energy, enthusiasm, and common sense.” Qian smiled. “But we can make it a few days without basking in your presence. Safe flight.”

Smiling and shaking her head, January headed to the small prop plane waiting on the cleared airstrip. She jogged up the stairs and ducked inside. There were two other passengers sitting at the back—one of her students, who was heading home early because a relative had fallen ill, and one of her archeologists, who was due for a break. Tyler, the student, had headphones on, nodding his head to the music. Dr. Robert Lake, the man in charge of the lidar scanning, was asleep.

“Ready, Carlos,” she called.

From the small cockpit, the pilot nodded.

January settled into a seat and buckled up. She slid her backpack under the chair in front of her, and set the briefcase down beside her.

Then she turned her head to stare out of the window. Just looking at her dig made her chest fill with pride. They were doing fascinating work here.

It was Robert’s lidar scanning that had uncovered the multitude of unknown Mayan ruins hidden beneath the Guatemalan jungle. Her team was working hard to piece together the story of the Snake King Dynasty.

As the engine started and the pilot ran through his preflight checks, her gaze fell on the briefcase. Her team had uncovered the artifacts in the pyramid. At first, they’d thought it was a tomb, and they’d been excited that it was clearly untouched. The thick tangle of vines covering the entire pyramid had clearly kept looters out.

But it hadn’t been a tomb. It had been some sort of temple, in honor of the artifacts. The amazing friezes had warmed every corner of her archeologist heart. And the multitude of jade artifacts had simply been incredible.

But over the course of her career, January had learned that not everything was what it seemed.

Some artifacts were powerful and very, very dangerous.

A grad student had uncovered a perfect crystal sphere not long ago. It had landed the young woman in the hospital.

Subsequently, when January and her team had found two perfectly formed spheres made entirely of jade, she wasn’t taking any chances. Now, she had two more artifacts that needed securing, and she wanted them safe and out of the way so she could get back to her dig.

January loved her job. Her mom had loved history. It had just been the two of them against the world, and Alyson James had loved both her daughter and history. She’d read January history textbooks at bedtime, rather than storybooks.

A pang of bittersweet pain tightened January’s throat. She’d lost her mom too young, and in the worst of circumstances. She knew her mom would’ve loved seeing the work that January did.

Soon, the aircraft was rumbling down the bumpy runway, and they took off, veering out over the jungle. She pressed her head back against her seat and stared out at the sea of green below. Her thoughts turned. Not to the Guatemalan jungle or her dig, but instead to where she was headed.

A place that she hadn’t been able to tell any of her team about, not even Qian. A secret base called Area 52 in Nevada.

She smiled wryly. It amused her to no end that Area 51 got all the limelight and conspiracy theories, while right next door, the covert black ops group known only as Team 52 was actually hiding a secret base.

The team had crashed into one of her digs in Mexico the year before. They’d scared the hell out of her, and she’d fought back. She felt a slight hint of regret at giving one of the badass commandos a black eye.

Slight.

Said commando was arrogant, cocky, and drove her insane. On that dig, her team had stumbled onto an ancient Aztec artifact, and Team 52 had confiscated it. As a result, she’d never actually found out what the device was capable of.

Even now, she still had some trouble believing that civilizations on Earth had once been far more advanced than most historians believed. That many cultures had risen, created magnificent cities and temples, and invented amazing technology, and then been destroyed by flooding at the end of the last ice age. Unfortunately, there had been so many bad rumors and New Age myths over the years, like Atlantis, Mu, and Lemuria, that most academics were violently opposed to even investigating any claims that didn’t agree with the current accepted theories.

But January had seen parts of the truth. Artifacts with abilities and powers she didn’t understand. Whether they predated existing civilizations, or had been passed down and used by cultures like the Aztec and Maya, there was no doubting they cropped up.

And since her run-in with Team 52, she was now their unofficial informant. Any sign of something strange on any of her digs, or her colleagues’ digs, she passed it on.

Once again, she thought about the man that she’d hit in the head with a metal bar, leaving him with a black eye. At the thought of seeing Seth Lynch again, a shiver moved through her.

She made a scoffing sound and closed her eyes. So, the man was the definition of tall, lean, dark, and handsome. Even with the terrible scars on one side of his face, he made an impact. In her opinion, the scars added to his appeal.

Of course, he would need a personality transplant before she’d be interested. The man had a callous disregard for other people’s feelings. Not to mention being secretive beyond description.

Bang.

A huge explosion jolted the plane and January was tossed forward against her safety belt.

The plane shuddered, veering sharply to the left, and smoke filled the cabin.

Oh, God. She gripped the armrests. She heard Carlos shouting from the cockpit, and Tyler screaming from behind her.

January grabbed the briefcase, clutching it to her chest. The thick, oily smoke made it hard to breathe and she coughed. The plane tilted and started plummeting. She pressed a hand to the window and her stomach dropped to her boots.

She saw the trees rushing closer.

Her throat closed, fear rocketing through her. She was helpless. There was nothing she could do.

She’d felt like this once before, and had vowed never to feel that way again. But once again, her fate had been wrenched from her hands.

As the green hurtled to meet them, she braced for impact.

HE FLEW the jet-copter in low over the trees.

The dense Guatemalan jungle was all he could see. Green, green, and more green.

Seth Lynch touched the controls, trying to stay focused on flying. But his gut was tight and his jaw was clenched.

“We should see the wreck site in a minute or two,” a female voice said from beside him.

He glanced at the woman in the other pilot’s seat. Blair Mason didn’t look up from the controls. She was one of the toughest people Seth had ever worked with. A former member of Marine Force Recon, she was loyal, a straight shooter, and wouldn’t hesitate to take you down if you were a threat.

Seth grunted and looked back at the trees. He knew that across this dense jungle, archeologists had uncovered previously unknown Mayan Snake King ruins using lidar scanning.

Then he spotted some white ahead. “There.”

Blair leaned forward. “Fuck.”

The plane had crashed hard and torn up the trees. It looked like the aircraft had disintegrated on impact. Bits of wreckage were strewn everywhere.

Heart thumping hard, Seth spotted a tiny part of the fuselage that looked intact. But it wasn’t much.

“No one could have survived that,” Blair murmured.

His gut spasmed. No, they couldn’t have.

The plane had been coming from a remote archeological dig, with a certain archeologist from UC Berkeley on board, and Seth’s team had been sent in to check on her and recover the artifact.

A potentially dangerous artifact.

Dr. January James had interacted with his team before. They’d had a memorable first meeting when she’d hit him in the head with a metal pipe. It had been several weeks before his teammates had let him live that down. As a former CIA agent, not many people got the drop on Seth.

January James was an outspoken, aggressive, harpy of a woman. The times he’d met her, she’d managed to stretch the limits of his control. As the wreckage got larger, he scanned it, clenching his teeth.

And now she was dead.

There was movement behind his seat and their team leader appeared.

Lachlan Hunter was wearing black body armor like Seth and Blair, his face impassive. His eyes were a deep gold—flat, assessing, and intense enough to give anyone goosebumps. The former Marine, also Force Recon, was very good at his job, and scary as hell.

“We need to rappel down,” Lachlan said. “Trees are too thick to land.”

Seth unclipped his harness. “I’m coming.” He glanced back at Blair. “You got this?”

She eyed him for a second with her bi-colored eyes—one bright blue and one a silver-gray. She’d lost one eye on a mission as a Marine, and now had a high-tech prosthetic. She nodded. “I’ll head for the clearing we identified a few klicks away and wait. Give me the call when you need a pick up.”

Seth followed Lachlan, pushing back in to the main part of the experimental X8 jet-copter. Team 52 was lucky to have an ex-DARPA scientist, Dr. Ty Sampson, who cooked up all kinds of high-tech, trial devices for them. The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency’s loss was Team 52’s gain.

The rest of the team was already pulling their gear out for the rappel down.

Axel Diaz turned his head and raised a dark brow, a surprised expression on his good-looking face. His thick, brown hair curled around the neck of his vest, and fell over his forehead. Axel always looked like he was three weeks past needing a haircut.

“Figured you’d stay with the X8 and miss getting muddy,” Axel drawled at Seth.

Seth snatched up his high-tech CXM7 integrated assault rifle from the storage rack and slung it over his shoulder. “Felt like stretching my legs.”

Nearby, Smith Creed—his head almost brushing the roof of the craft—was pulling out extra weapons and sliding additional grenades onto his belt. The big man was all muscle. Colorado born and bred, he had dirty-blond hair and a beard several shades darker. He always carried more weapons than the rest of them.

The team medic, Callie Kimura, was checking her backpack, her CXM already in place on her back. Her lean body was also covered in her black body armor.

“Ready?” Lachlan asked.

They all nodded. Seth lifted one of the rappel lines, grabbed an anchor, and clicked it onto his belt. Lachlan opened the side door, the sunlight glinting off the metal at his wrist. He’d lost an arm on the mission that had officially ended his military career, but Ty had supplied him with one hell of a sophisticated prosthetic. Their team leader looked over and then jumped out of the aircraft with practiced ease.

Seth followed, his pulse not even increasing.

He’d leaped out of helicopters and planes too many times to count. He’d joined the CIA, wanting to defend his country and make a difference. He snorted at the memory, warm air rushing at his face, and felt the scars on his cheek tighten.

Instead, he’d learned that everyone—young or old, sweet or antagonistic—had secrets. No one was ever who they seemed, and it was best to never trust anyone. Ever.

The heat and humidity hit him like a wall as he slid down to the ground. As soon as his boots hit the dirt, he unclipped and whipped up his rifle.

The rest of the team landed beside him, and were now moving across the wreck site. The X8 flew overhead.

“See you soon.” Blair’s voice echoed in Seth’s microdot earpiece.

These were the only people Seth trusted. The members of Team 52 had proven they had his back, time and time again. That was all he needed.

He followed Lachlan, as the team leader made for the main part of the fuselage.

This wreckage was a case in point for people’s dishonesty. Some assholes had brought the plane down. This was no accident.

“RPG impact.” Smith was crouched, rubbing his gloved fingers over a sheet of mangled white metal.

“You sure?” Lachlan asked.

“Yeah.”

“What a fucking mess,” Axel ground out.

“Poor January.” Callie looked around shaking her head. “I really liked her.”

His team had all liked the archeologist, and found his frustration with her amusing. Seth’s chest was so tight it hurt. However much the hellcat had clawed at him, he’d never wanted her dead. She’d been filled with life, and he hated knowing that was gone.

Seth wandered through wreckage, glass crunching under his boots. There was nothing here but scrap metal and death.

“Any idea what the artifact she was carrying was?” Axel asked.

Lachlan shook his head. “Might have been similar to the crystal sphere she brought in the other week.”

But they didn’t know for sure.

Historians and archeologists didn’t always have things right. The current timeline of human civilization was not entirely correct. At the end of the last ice age, rising flood waters had destroyed many human cities and settlements. Cultures far more advanced than current academics accepted—and their advancements—had been wiped out.

But sometimes, pieces of their advanced technology turned up. And sometimes the cultures that had risen to power and prominence after had also gotten their hands on it.

Just weeks ago, they’d locked up a dangerous artifact in the Area 52 secure storage facility in Nevada. Scientists had pulled it from the ice in northern Canada. That mission had gone bad. Really bad. People had died, but in the end, they’d recovered the artifact, and Lachlan had fallen head over heels for the lovely Dr. Rowan Schafer whose scientists had discovered the artifact.

Seth shook his head. He couldn’t believe scary, focused Lachlan had succumbed, although Seth had grown to like Rowan. Love was a dumb risk, and it was just asking for trouble. But Rowan was pretty nice, and Lachlan was happier than Seth had ever seen him.

“I’ve got a body,” Callie called out grimly. “Male. Wearing a uniform. My guess is that he was the pilot.”

Seth thought of finding January’s body and bile filled his mouth.

January James had first found a crystal sphere that had electrocuted one of her team, and she’d handed it over to Team 52. Then, she’d sent a message saying that she’d found something else and was bringing that in, too.

What the hell had it been? Without even a tiny clue, they were doing nothing more than looking for a needle in a damn haystack.

“Search the rubble,” Lachlan ordered. “January carried the first artifact in a secure case, so if the second one is in a similar case, there’s a good chance it survived the crash.”

“Unless someone else already recovered it,” Axel muttered.

With his gloved hand, Seth shifted pieces of metal aside. His head filled with disconcerting images. He wondered what January’s last terrifying minutes had been like. He hated that she’d probably been terrified.

Lachlan pulled out a fancy scanner and started moving it over the wreck site. It made a series of low beeps. Another of Ty’s creations.

“Wait.” Smith crouched. They all turned toward the man.

Seth knew that Smith was a hell of a tracker. His crotchety, mountain-man father had taken him hunting since he was a boy.

Smith was hunched over by the largest part of the wreckage. Seth could see a seat from the plane, tipped over on its side.

“What’ve you got?” Lachlan asked.

Seth moved closer, and saw what Smith was looking at. He sucked in a breath. “Blood.”

Smith nodded and rose. He moved steadily, staring at the ground. He headed toward the tree line.

“Smith?” Seth said.

The big man looked up, his gaze meeting Seth’s. “There’s a blood trail. Someone survived.”

Team 52

Mission: Her Protection

Mission: Her Rescue

Mission: Her Security

Also Available as Audiobooks!

PREVIEW: UNDISCOVERED

Want to learn more about Treasure Hunter Security? Check out the first book in the series, Undiscovered, Declan Ward’s action-packed story.

One former Navy SEAL. One dedicated archeologist. One secret map to a fabulous lost oasis.

Finding undiscovered treasures is always daring, dangerous, and deadly. Perfect for the men of Treasure Hunter Security. Former Navy SEAL Declan Ward is haunted by the demons of his past and throws everything he has into his security business—Treasure Hunter Security. Dangerous archeological digs – no problem. Daring expeditions – sure thing. Museum security for invaluable exhibits – easy. But on a simple dig in the Egyptian desert, he collides with a stubborn, smart archeologist, Dr. Layne Rush, and together they get swept into a deadly treasure hunt for a mythical lost oasis. When an evil from his past reappears, Declan vows to do anything to protect Layne.

Dr. Layne Rush is dedicated to building a successful career—a promise to the parents she lost far too young. But when her dig is plagued by strange accidents, targeted by a lethal black market antiquities ring, and artifacts are stolen, she is forced to turn to Treasure Hunter Security, and to the tough, sexy, and too-used-to-giving-orders Declan. Soon her organized dig morphs into a wild treasure hunt across the desert dunes.

Danger is hunting them every step of the way, and Layne and Declan must find a way to work together…to not only find the treasure but to survive.

Treasure Hunter Security

Undiscovered

Uncharted

Unexplored

Unfathomed

Untraveled

Unmapped

Unidentified

Undetected

Also Available as Audiobooks!

ALSO BY ANNA HACKETT

Team 52

Mission: Her Protection

Mission: Her Rescue

Mission: Her Security

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Treasure Hunter Security

Undiscovered

Uncharted

Unexplored

Unfathomed

Untraveled

Unmapped

Unidentified

Undetected

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Eon Warriors

Edge of Eon

Touch of Eon

Galactic Gladiators

Gladiator

Warrior

Hero

Protector

Champion

Barbarian

Beast

Rogue

Guardian

Cyborg

Imperator

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Hell Squad

Marcus

Cruz

Gabe

Reed

Roth

Noah

Shaw

Holmes

Niko

Finn

Theron

Hemi

Ash

Levi

Manu

Also Available as Audiobooks!

The Anomaly Series

Time Thief

Mind Raider

Soul Stealer

Salvation

Anomaly Series Box Set

The Phoenix Adventures

Among Galactic Ruins

At Star’s End

In the Devil’s Nebula

On a Rogue Planet

Beneath a Trojan Moon

Beyond Galaxy’s Edge

On a Cyborg Planet

Return to Dark Earth

On a Barbarian World

Lost in Barbarian Space

Through Uncharted Space

Crashed on an Ice World

Perma Series

Winter Fusion

A Galactic Holiday

Warriors of the Wind

Tempest

Storm & Seduction

Fury & Darkness

Standalone Titles

Savage Dragon

Hunter’s Surrender

One Night with the Wolf

For more information visit AnnaHackettBooks.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I’m a USA Today bestselling author and I’m passionate about action romance. I love stories that combine the thrill of falling in love with the excitement of action, danger and adventure. I’m a sucker for that moment when the team is walking in slow motion, shoulder-to-shoulder heading off into battle. I write about people overcoming unbeatable odds and achieving seemingly impossible goals. I like to believe it’s possible for all of us to do the same.

My books are mixture of action, adventure and sexy romance and they’re recommended for anyone who enjoys fast-paced stories where the boy wins the girl at the end (or sometimes the girl wins the boy!)

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Website: www.annahackettbooks.com