THE PROTECTOR

NORCROSS SECURITY #9

ANNA HACKETT

The Protector

Published by Anna Hackett

Copyright 2022 by Anna Hackett

Cover by Lana Pecherczyk

Cover image by Wander Aguiar

Edits by Tanya Saari

ISBN (ebook): 978-1-922414-56-4

ISBN (paperback): 978-1-922414-57-1

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 romances

Anna Hackett 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

Chapter 21

Preview: Stealing from Mr. Rich

Preview: Team 52 and THS

Also by Anna Hackett

About the Author

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ANNA’S ROMANCES

Heart of Eon - Romantic Book of the Year (Ruby) winner 2020

Cyborg - PRISM Award Winner 2019

Edge of Eon and Mission: Her Protection - Romantic Book of the Year (Ruby) finalists 2019

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

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

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

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

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

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

“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

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

Sign up for my VIP mailing list and get your free box set containing three action-packed romances.

Click here to get started: www.annahackett.com

CHAPTER ONE

The music swelled, and Saskia Hawke moved across the small stage.

Her body flowed and she felt connected to the music. Her muscles knew exactly what to do—thanks to years of training and her passion.

Arabesque, jeté, brisé. Love and joy filled her, lifted her. Her tiny skirt flared around her thighs, and she lifted her arms gracefully above her head.

It didn’t matter that the stage and audience were small. This was a tiny, private performance, but for Saskia, dancing was dancing.

It didn’t matter if she was performing for one person, or a crowd at the Royal Opera House in London. Dancing was her heart and soul.

She’d danced for royalty and presidents. She’d been the lead in the most famous ballets—Romeo and Juliet, The Nutcracker, Swan Lake. She’d shared the stage with some of the world’s best dancers.

She always put everything she had into the dance, because it was a compulsion inside her. She leaped into a grand jeté.

For that second, she was soaring.

She leaped again, and whirled into another turn.

The music ended, and Saskia bent over, her arms out.

There was a moment of pure silence.

Then applause erupted.

She straightened and smiled. They were in a clear marquee set up in Central Park. The trees outside were a stunning palette of fall colors—orange, reds, and browns. Some were losing their leaves as winter made its approach.

Her heart was beating hard, and she pulled in some breaths and kept her practiced smile in place.

Now that the dance was over, she felt the throb in her sore knee and the ache in her feet, and tiredness wrapped around her like a blanket. It was Monday lunch time—and one of her days off—and she would have preferred to be lazing in bed, reading a book, and drinking hot chocolate. She had a new stash of chocolate from Paris she wanted to test out, not to mention an unopened packet of her favorite truffles. Chocolate was her weakness.

The partygoers rose to their feet, still clapping. Saskia kept her smile in place, but inside she felt…not so much. It had been happening a lot lately. While she loved to dance, performing and her grueling practices didn’t give her the same sense of satisfaction anymore.

Yes, she really, really wanted to be home at her apartment with that mug of hot chocolate. Her heart clenched. And maybe a secret phone call later with the man she couldn’t stop thinking about.

Other dancers pranced up behind her, bowing.

Her dancer friend, Danielle, caught her gaze and smiled. A pretty blonde dancer beside Danie beamed. She looked extremely pleased, her cheeks glowing.

Saskia managed a real smile. Danie had begged her to come today. Not all dancers made good money like Saskia did. These private performances for wealthy clients paid well. Saskia hadn’t wanted to do it, but Danie had said that the patron had requested Saskia personally.

She took another bow. The organizer, Chad—a well-dressed man with a clipped New York accent, blond hair, sharp suit, and an over-wide smile—carried out a bunch of flowers.

He handed out a single rose for each of the other female dancers, then turned and handed the rest of the bunch to Saskia.

“Mr. Mikhailov was so very happy you danced for him today.” Chad didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was checking out her breasts.

She barely hid her eye roll. She was built like most prima ballerinas—slender, long legs and neck, and not that well-endowed.

“Thank you.” She took the flowers.

“He’d love for to you to join him for a drink.”

“I’m flattered, but I can’t today. Thank you again.”

Back in the tiny change room assigned to the female dancers, Saskia changed back into her jeans and sweater, and topped it with a gray coat and cream scarf. She released her black hair from the confines of the tight bun and brushed it out, then bundled it up loosely so it wouldn’t give her a headache.

Then she set to work cleaning off the heavy makeup. She tipped the makeup remover onto a cloth and leaned toward the mirror.

She couldn’t wait to get home and soak her feet. Her brother had given her an amazing home foot spa for her birthday last year. She smiled. It had been a thoughtful gift, especially since her big brother was the definition of the ultimate badass. She didn’t see a lot of him, since Killian traveled a lot. He owned a private security company specializing in cyber security and a bunch of other no doubt dangerous things he didn’t talk about.

Dangerous. That pretty much described Killian to a T. Before he’d started Sentinel Security, he’d…well, she didn’t actually know what he’d done. Something black ops for the government. He didn’t advertise the fact that they were related. If people looked her up, there was no mention of him.

Anyway, she was just glad that his work now wasn’t as dangerous as it had been before.

She didn’t remember the father who’d abandoned them, and their mother had died when Saskia was eighteen. She didn’t want to lose what she had left of her family.

Thoughts of her deadly brother brought to mind another man.

In the mirror, her lips tilted up.

Camden Morgan.

She’d met him a few months back in San Francisco, at her best friend Savannah’s art show.

After terrible trouble involving a crazed stalker, Savannah had fallen in love with sexy police detective Hunter Morgan. Cam was his brother.

He’d recently gotten out of the military. He had newly healed scars on his face, and carried a hard, watchful look. That, combined with his powerful, muscled body, and his obvious love of his family and friends, had entranced her.

Her life in New York was mostly filled with self-absorbed dancers, and men too busy with their careers to put much effort into anything else. Her short-lived stint on a dating app had introduced her to a long line of uninspiring men and bad dates. Cam couldn’t be more different.

Even now, she remembered the way every cell in her body had taken notice the moment she’d first laid eyes on him.

“Thanks again for today, Saskia.” Danie walked past and squeezed Saskia’s arm. “You were awesome, as always.”

“Sure thing, Danie. See you tomorrow at rehearsal.”

“You know it.” She breathed out. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Face clean, Saskia dabbed on some lip gloss. She planned to enjoy her day. She had a meeting with the dance director at her dance company later, but other than that she was free. She might call on her old dance mentor. Cassie was a former principal dancer who’d since retired and ran a dance school. Saskia loved popping in and seeing the kids. She sometimes felt the niggle that she’d like to teach. One day.

For now, dancing on stage was her life. Dancing was a touchstone for her, had saved her in the toughest time of her life.

She tucked her lip gloss away. The other thing she hoped for today was that she got a late-night call from Cam.

At Savannah’s art show, he’d mostly avoided her, but she’d caught him watching her numerous times.

Hot, intense stares that had made her belly coil.

She’d finally taken matters into her own hands and gotten him onto the dance floor. Being in those strong arms…

She shivered.

Still, he hadn’t made a move. She hadn’t pushed him. She’d left him her phone number, sadly knowing in her heart that he was unlikely to use it.

But then, a week later, she’d gotten a late-night call.

They’d shared lots of late-night calls since then. She’d realized that he had trouble sleeping. Her heart hurt for him. He was a wounded warrior, who sacrificed so much for his country.

He’d lost a teammate, and had some unresolved survivor’s guilt. He never talked about the military, or how he’d been hurt. No, she’d read all that between the lines. They just talked about everyday things. She loved listening to his deep, sexy voice that had just a touch of a gritty edge.

She sighed. If only Cam didn’t have defenses a mile wide, and they didn’t live on different coasts.

“Ms. Hawke?”

Chad was back. He had a tray full of elegant champagne flutes filled with bubbling gold liquid.

“Mr. Mikhailov insisted on at least a small celebration of your elegance and grace.” Chad handed her the flute.

She gave a mental sigh. She’d take a few sips, smile, and then get out of there.

One of the other dancers came out of a dressing room and almost bumped into Saskia. “Oh, sorry.”

It was the pretty blonde. The woman had a sweet, southern accent.

“Come and have a glass,” Saskia said.

The woman bit her bottom lip. “Oh, I shouldn’t.”

Chad handed the woman a flute. “It’s Bollinger.”

“Well, then.” She sipped it. “It tastes like gold.”

Saskia sipped hers. “It sure does. I’m Saskia.”

“Oh, I know who you are. You’re an idol of mine.” The woman blushed. “I’m Adaline Harris. Addie to my friends.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Addie.” They clinked their glasses together. “Where do you dance?”

“Anywhere I can.” She gave a self-conscious giggle. “Right now, I’m off-Broadway. Very off Broadway.”

Saskia knew lots of dancers like Addie, who came to New York with dreams in their hearts and stars in their eyes. Things didn’t always turn out like they hoped. A career in dancing was a lot of hard work, sore muscles, and a lot of disappointment and rejection.

As they chatted, she felt Chad watching them steadily. He was a little creepy.

A sudden wave of dizziness hit her. She was more tired than she’d realized. “I need to go.”

“We too. I mean, me too.” Addie frowned, her cheeks flushed, and her words slurred. “I feel funny.”

Saskia frowned.

Then Addie staggered and fell. She knocked a stool over.

“Oh, dear, Ms. Harris.” Chad reached for the woman.

Nausea swamped Saskia, and her head spun in a horrible circle. She looked at the flute, and her vision dimmed.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong. She made for the door.

“Oh, you aren’t leaving, Ms. Hawke.” Chad held the now unconscious Addie up against him. “Mr. Mikhailov insisted. And he’s a man who always gets what he wants.”

Saskia grabbed a table to stay upright. She was so dizzy. “What…does he want?”

Chad’s smile turned nasty. “He wants you.” The man tossed Addie over his shoulder. “And it looks like he’ll be getting a bonus blonde as well. I’ll be right back to get you.” He strode out.

Saskia fumbled in her bag and pulled out her phone. She tripped, and fell on her hands and knees. She scrambled for the phone, trying to unlock it. Her fingers felt like they were double their size. A sob welled in her throat. This couldn’t be happening.

She got the phone open and pressed the screen.

Please, pick up.

“Saskia?”

Cam’s deep voice.

“Cam…” Her throat was so tight. She couldn’t form any words.

“Saskia?” His tone hardened. “Are you there?”

“I—”

The phone was snatched out of her hand. An enraged Chad smashed it against the counter and it shattered.

No.

He hauled her up. “Time to take a little trip.”

The world swam, and blackness swamped her.

CAMDEN MORGAN PACED his living room, turning his cell phone over and over in his hand.

He’d tried all day to contact Saskia.

Nothing.

The calls wouldn’t connect. She hadn’t called him back.

Cam. She’d said his name, little more than a whisper.

He stopped at the window. The weather had turned bad, and the fog and clouds matched his mood.

Usually, the view of the city was stellar. He was renting a place owned by his friend, Easton Norcross. Cam had saved his money from his time in the military, and Easton used his billion-dollar investment skills to invest for Cam. He could buy even in San Francisco’s market, if he wanted. He just didn’t know what or where, yet.

He still felt…temporary. Nothing felt quite right. Like he was wearing borrowed clothes that were too tight.

Except his job working at Norcross Security for Easton’s brother, Vander. That was the only thing that felt right.

And when he was staring into Saskia’s warm, brown eyes.

Fuck. She was off limits. Totally off-limits.

His hands curled. Saskia was beautiful. Long, slender, willowy, but with an underlying strength that drew him. He was aware that to be a dancer of her caliber, she had to be fit and strong, and put in hours of training and practice.

But most of all, it was her smile when she looked at him. The glint in her eyes, like she knew all his secrets and they didn’t worry her.

That look that dared him to touch her, kiss her.

Cam blew out a sharp breath. Saskia Hawke looked at and spoke to him like she didn’t see the scars, the darkness.

I know all about brave warriors, Cam.

She’d said that on one of their calls. He loved listening to her rich voice on the line. He knew she’d been talking about her brother.

I know what you have to give up, to do such an important job. A job that calls to you, but takes pieces of your soul as well. Every day, I’m grateful for men like you, Camden.

Where the hell was she?

He looked at his phone. It still didn’t ring.

Something was wrong. He knew in his gut. It was the same damn feeling he’d gotten before a bomb had blown up his team in Afghanistan.

Before a good man had died. A man he’d fought with, laughed with, bled with. Before his best friend had died in his arms.

His jaw tightened. Fuck this.

He strode out of his apartment, slamming the door behind him.

It was a short elevator ride down to the garage. A gleaming BMW X6 SUV in black sat in his parking space. He hadn’t even bought a car yet. The X6 was a Norcross Security vehicle. He didn’t even know what kind of car he wanted.

He slid in, gunned the engine, and pulled out of the parking garage. The Norcross Security office, situated in a converted warehouse near the South Beach Marina, was a short drive away.

As he pulled up, he saw lights on upstairs in Vander’s loft. Despite it being Monday, most Norcross staff had the day off, since most of them had spent the last day in and out of the hospital, waiting for their tech guru Ace and his woman Maggie’s baby to arrive.

Cam drove into the lower level of the warehouse and parked beside a row of other X6s. He jogged past the gym and doors to the holding rooms, then took the stairs two at a time to the upper level.

The central part of the warehouse was home to the main offices. Vander had kept the industrial feel, with lots of wood, black metal, and glass. As Cam had guessed, even though it was Monday afternoon, it was empty.

Everyone was celebrating baby Isabel’s arrival.

“Cam?”

He turned and saw Vander. Of course, the former Ghost Ops commander hadn’t made a sound. Cam could move the same way, and even though Vander had been out for a few years, it hadn’t dulled the man’s dangerous edge.

Vander eyed him steadily with dark-blue eyes.

He was a tall, muscled man who carried a sense of contained violence. All the Norcross siblings shared dark, Italian-American good looks they’d inherited from their mother. Most of San Francisco was wary of Vander Norcross. They all sensed a predator. Cam was one of the few who knew exactly how dangerous this man could be.

And now Cam needed his help.

“What’s wrong?” Vander asked.

Cam swiped a hand through his hair. “It’s Saskia Hawke.”

Vander’s dark brows winged up. “Killian’s sister? You have a thing with his sister? Must have balls of steel, Cam.”

Cam huffed out a breath. “She lives in New York. We’re…” Well, he didn’t have the right word to describe it. “Friends. We talk on the phone.” Cam shook his head. “I’m not getting involved with any woman.”

Vander shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze steady. “Why?”

Cam felt a spurt of anger. “You know why. I’m…not a good bet. You avoided serious relationships for years, so I know you get it. I have nothing to give a woman but shit.”

“That’s not true. And I guess I proved that, since I’m engaged to your cousin. She’s my world, Cam, and I’d fight anyone who tried to take her from me.”

Cam sliced a hand through the air. Yes, Vander was in love with Brynn, but that didn’t mean Cam could offer that to anyone. “This is not why I came. Saskia’s in trouble. I know it.”

Vander straightened. “I’m listening.”

“At the hospital this morning, she called me. She said my name, but she sounded wrong. Then the call was cut off. I’ve been calling her all day since then, but the calls won’t connect, and she hasn’t called me back.”

“Shit.” Vander pulled out his phone, stabbed at the screen, and put it to his ear. He cursed. “Killian’s voicemail. It’s automated. It means he’s out of the country.”

Cam flexed his hand.

“I’ll call Killian’s second in command at Sentinel Security.” Vander strode to his office at the end of the hall. Cam followed.

The office suited its owner, with sleek, stark lines. Vander strode around the glossy desk and dropped into the chair. He opened his laptop and tapped.

Pulling in a breath, Cam stalked over beside his boss. Tension was gnawing at him. He wanted to know that Saskia was all right. Even if she was out with some guy…

He swallowed a growl. He just wanted her safe.

The video call connected.

“Norcross,” a deep voice said.

“Wolf.”

The man was big and broad-shouldered, and had a rugged face covered by a neat beard. His hair was a deep brown, and he wore a suit that looked way more designer than Cam’s. But when the blue-eyed man’s gaze met his, Cam didn’t mistake this guy for anything but a skilled, dangerous operator.

“Camden Morgan, this is Nick ‘Wolf’ Garrick,” Vander said. “Former SEAL Team Six and SAC, and second in charge at Sentinel Security.”

So the guy had been a SEAL, then gone into the CIA’s Special Activities Center. Not someone to mess with.

“Wolf, Cam is one of mine and former Ghost Ops. We need to contact Killian.”

Wolf folded his hands. “He’s out of the country.”

Vander bit out a curse. “We suspected as much. Can you reach him?”

“What’s wrong, Vander?” Wolf asked.

“Saskia Hawke called Cam today.”

Something changed in Wolf’s face. “Go on.”

Cam leaned in. “The call disconnected, and I can’t get in touch with her. The calls won’t go through. She’s in trouble.”

Wolf’s rugged face changed, taking on a lethal edge that made Cam think of the animal he was named after.

“I’ll look into it.”

The screen went black, and Cam fought the need to punch something.

CHAPTER TWO

Oh, God, what was wrong with her?

Saskia stifled a groan. She felt woozy, her head spinning. She heard a loud, regular drumbeat of sound, and realized it was her heart beating in her head.

She rarely drank too much. As a principal dancer, she couldn’t afford a hangover.

She turned over, feeling awkward as she did. Her limbs weren’t obeying, and they felt as heavy as lead.

The scent of leather and air freshener hit her, and she blinked. She heard the rumble of deep voices in front of her. Car. She was in the back of a car. She thought she should feel more worried, but she felt too languid and disconnected. She saw another woman beside her. Blonde hair spilled around a sweet face, and she was asleep, sprawled on the seats.

Saskia blinked again, everything blurring. Then she drifted for a while, paying no attention to the movement or voices around her.

When she cracked her eyes open again, she’d lost some time. She was no longer in a car. She felt something digging into her stomach, and her body was bouncing rhythmically.

What the—?

She was upside down. She was being carried over someone’s shoulder.

A shot of panic spiked through her, but then dulled. Why couldn’t she think?

“Get them on the plane. Boss wants them in the air soon.” The voice had an American accent.

“He picked well. These dolls are pretty,” said the man carrying her. He sounded Russian.

The other man grunted. “I like them with a bit more meat on the bones, but Mr. M likes ‘em long and slim.” A low chuckle. “And flexible.”

The words sent an arrow to her gut. She felt sick. What the hell was going on?

There was a sudden whoosh of sound. She blinked. They’d stepped outside. It was nighttime, and a plane was flying overhead.

They were at an airport.

She managed to lift her head. She saw the man carrying her walking toward a sleek, private jet.

No, no.

She’d heard horror stories about human trafficking. If they got her on that plane, she might never be seen again.

She saw the other man carrying the blonde woman. Saskia felt a pop of memory, like a bubble in water. Southern accent. Addie. Saskia had to save herself and Addie.

She wrenched her hips.

The man holding her wobbled and cursed in Russian.

Saskia grabbed his hair, twisted her fingers into it, and yanked.

He yelped and dropped her.

She hit the tarmac, pain radiating through her knees. She staggered up, but her legs felt like Jell-O. She took a step toward the man holding Addie like she was a sack.

Suddenly, a hand sank into her hair and yanked her back ruthlessly.

“Whore.” Her captor shoved his shoulder into her gut and hauled her up.

She fought.

She twisted, tried to claw at him. He subdued her so easily. Fear choked her throat. And anger.

How dare someone just snatch her? Like she was a thing, not a person.

If she made it out of this, she would let Killian train her in all the ways he knew to kill someone.

If she made it out—her chest tightened painfully—she was going to fly to San Francisco and kiss Camden Morgan.

Her captor stepped aboard the plane. Saskia got the impression of cream leather and glossy wood.

She was dumped on a couch, and pinned there with a knee. She tried to shove the asshole off her, but he was too heavy.

“Put the other one over there,” the man grunted.

Saskia turned her head and saw the other guy dump an unconscious Addie in a chair. The woman was limp, her blonde hair tangled all over her face.

Saskia’s stomach clenched. The dancer reminded her a little of her best friend, Savannah, who was blonde, as well.

Would she ever see her friend again?

Yes, dammit.

She fought harder. She’d get herself and Addie out of this.

The man cursed, fumbling. Saskia turned her head and bit his calf through his trousers.

“Bitch.” He backhanded her in the face.

She cried out. Pressing her palm against her cheek, she slumped back. Her head ached and felt like it was filled with cotton wool.

The asshole kept her pinned, then she felt a prick at her neck.

“Let me go!” Her pulse leaped and skittered.

She saw him straighten, grinning. He held a syringe in his hand.

“No,” she whispered.

Lassitude flowed through her, like a slow-moving tide. She melted back against the leather, unable to hold herself up.

“It’ll be a more peaceful flight now,” the man mumbled.

There was the rumble of engines. Saskia’s awareness dimmed.

She slipped sideways, her cheek pressed to the cool leather.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

CAM PACED VANDER’S OFFICE. Hours had passed.

There was still no word from New York.

Fuck. The edginess inside him made it hard to think. It was clawing at him, bombarding him with images of what might have happened to her. Maybe he should just book a flight and go to New York…

“Here.” Vander shoved a glass into Cam’s hand. “Drink it.”

Cam sipped the bourbon. It was Vander’s favorite—Eagle Rare 17. The stuff cost a fortune, but right now, it tasted like dirt. “If someone’s hurt her…”

“Let’s wait to hear from Wolf,” Vander said. “And you know better than to cook up every bad scenario.”

Cam gulped down the rest of the bourbon. The burn hit him.

And his resolve hardened.

He knew he shouldn’t imagine the worst. On missions, they’d focused on what resources they had and how to best utilize them. They planned contingencies, but always hoped for the best. But this was different to being in combat.

No. Whatever had happened, he wouldn’t stop until he found her.

“Hey.” Brynn Sullivan rushed in, her face was creased with concern. She must’ve come from the station, because she wore a dark pantsuit, blue shirt, and her detective badge clipped to her belt. His cousin came straight to Cam and hugged him. “Vander told me. We’re going to work out what the hell’s going on.”

Then Brynn moved to Vander. “Norcross.”

“Detective.” Vander slid an arm around Brynn, and pulled her in close. He dropped his mouth to hers.

Brynn leaned into Vander and kissed him back.

Cam watched the pair for a second. Their love was shiningly obvious. Vander had managed to come back from a long career in the military, several years of it spent as a legend in the secretive Ghost Ops teams. He’d built a business, and now fallen for a woman.

The moment seemed too intimate and Cam looked away.

Some guys managed it, others were too scarred.

Cam knew where he fell.

Like he’d told Vander, he wouldn’t inflict his shit on a woman.

The laptop on Vander’s desk chimed and Cam’s pulse spiked. He set the glass down and hurried over.

“Wolf, talk to us,” Vander said.

The rugged man on the screen looked grim. “She’s not at her apartment. No one’s seen her.”

Fuck. Cam flexed his hand.

“She was supposed to have a meeting with the dance director at her company late this afternoon,” Wolf continued. “She never showed.”

“We have to find her,” Cam said. “Something’s really wrong.”

Wolf’s frown deepened. “We’ll take it from here.”

No. Cam’s gut rebelled, and he ground his teeth together. A small growl escaped.

“Wolf, we want to be included,” Vander said. “Cam and Saskia talk. They’re friends. Don’t shut us out.”

Brynn cleared her throat, her gaze on Cam. “I suspect my cousin will be on the first plane to New York, ready to get in your face, if you don’t keep him in the loop.”

Wolf’s blue gaze flicked to Cam, like he was trying to get a read on him.

“Oh, come on, Wolf,” a sharp female voice said. “The more help we have, the sooner we find Saskia.” A small woman leaned in from the side, obstructing their view of Wolf. She had a small, fine-featured face, with short, black hair tipped with pale pink.

“Hello, Hex,” Vander said.

“Hello, dark, sexy drink of water.” The woman winked.

Wolf scowled at the woman’s pink hair.

Cam had heard this woman mentioned before. Jet “Hex” Adler was Sentinel’s version of Ace. Hacker, tech whiz, and keeper of all things electronic.

Brynn leaned closer to the screen. “Hi, Hex, I’m Brynn.”

“Oh, the woman who tamed Vander Norcross.” Hex smiled. “You’re famous, even on our side of the country.”

Cam saw Vander tip his gaze toward the ceiling.

“What have you got on Saskia?” Cam asked.

Hex’s pretty face turned serious. “I’ve been running a bunch of searches and tapping CCTV.”

“And I questioned her friends and fellow dancers,” Wolf said. “She had a private performance in Central Park this morning.”

“Saskia’s mentioned these things before,” Hex said. “Rich people pay loads for the dancers to attend private parties and events.”

“Did she make it to the show?” Cam asked.

“Yes,” Hex said. “I found a social media picture posted by another dancer. A friend of Saskia’s, Danielle Ingram. It’s of the two of them in costume in Central Park.”

Hex touched the screen of her heavy-duty tablet.

A picture flicked up on the laptop. Cam’s chest tightened.

She looked beautiful.

In the photo, Saskia’s makeup was heavier than normal, her lips painted brilliant red. Her hair was pulled back in a severe look, showcasing her stunning face.

Where was she?

“I’ve asked Hades to find Danielle,” Hex said. “He hasn’t reported in yet.”

“Hades?” Brynn asked.

“Matteo ‘Hades’ Mancini,” Wolf said. “He’s former DIA, Direzione Investigativa Antimafia, and Interpol.”

“Any more intel on this private performance?” Vander asked.

Hex pulled a face. “The marquee and caterer were hired by Lukom, Inc. The company is registered in the British Virgin Islands.”

“So it could be anyone,” Vander mused.

“I’m looking into a few things,” the hacker said.

Vander looked at Wolf. “Did you get word to Killian?”

The other man shook his head. “He’s out of contact for at least another twenty-four hours.”

“Damn,” Vander murmured.

Cam felt his worry building. There was nothing he hated more than not having a course of action.

Waiting was the hardest thing for a Ghost Ops soldier to do.

“Wait, I’m getting a call from Hades.” Wolf pulled out a sleek, black phone and pressed it to his ear. “Talk to me, H.”

“We’re going to find her,” Hex said earnestly.

“Okay. Yeah, we’ll look into it.” Wolf nodded. “Thanks, man, keep me posted.” Wolf took his seat again. “Hades found Danielle Ingram at a restaurant in Soho. She confirmed that Saskia was at the performance.”

“And then she left?” Cam asked.

“Danielle said she left just before Saskia, but that Saskia was getting ready to leave. She seemed fine.”

“She would’ve taken the subway.” Hex tapped on her screen. “Her place is in Chelsea. I’m checking cameras at all the stations.”

“And Danielle gave us the name of the guy who organized the performance,” Wolf added. “Chad Palmer. Hades is tracking him down now.”

“So, this Chad guy approached them about the performance?” Cam’s mind whirled.

Wolf tipped his chin up. “Yes. And he asked specifically for Saskia. Sounds like he offered the dancers a lot of money, but it was contingent on Saskia dancing.”

Fuck. Cam was liking the sound of this less and less.

“I got a hit on Chad Palmer.” Hex pulled a stylus from behind her ear, and tapped it on her tablet. “Oh, hell.” The woman froze.

Wolf frowned. “Hex?”

Cam’s chest locked. He sensed Brynn moving closer.

“Palmer was questioned by the NYPD last year over the disappearance of a woman.”

“What?” Cam breathed.

“She was a model who attended a fancy party that Palmer organized for some wealthy Japanese businessmen.”

Cam sucked in a breath. They were onto something. Palmer stank.

“The model?” Cam asked.

“Never found. Palmer maintained he had no knowledge of her disappearance. She left his party happy and in one piece.”

Cam’s fingers curled into a fist. “Palmer knows something.”

“Hades will find him and make him talk.” Wolf’s tone was dark. “I’ll be in touch.”

As the screen went black, Cam heaved in a breath.

“Cam, you should go home,” Vander said. “Get some rest.”

Cam’s head whipped up. Vander had lost his mind if he thought Cam was going to sit around and relax.

His boss met his gaze. “But I know you won’t do that.”

“I…can’t rest when I don’t know where the hell she is or—” his voice cracked “— what’s happening to her.”

Brynn reached out and grabbed Cam’s hand.

Vander nodded. “Let’s shift to Ace’s office. He has bigger screens. We’ll run a few searches of our own while we wait to hear from Wolf.”

Cam managed a nod.

We’re coming, Saskia. Hold the fuck on.

CHAPTER THREE

Saskia could hear music.

Wincing, she swallowed. Her mouth was so dry it hurt. She listened to Adele singing about rolling in the deep. Saskia felt like she was in the deep.

Where was she?

She turned her head and saw Addie on the car seat beside her, still unconscious. Saskia’s heart thumped several hard beats. Then it all came rushing back.

The performance. Being drugged. The plane.

She swallowed again. The radio was on, and the two goons from the plane were in the front seat of the car. She took a second to fantasize about opening the door and leaping out.

There were two severe flaws in that plan. She still felt weak. If she did manage to get out of the car, she wasn’t sure she could run. And she couldn’t leave Addie.

The car turned onto a long driveway. It was dark, but there were trees lining it that were lit up. Beyond them, she saw the shadows of rows and rows of grapevines.

A vineyard?

Then the house came into view. She stifled a gasp. Calling it a house was a massive understatement. It was a sprawling building of stone, stucco, and black iron. Someone’s Italian mansion fantasy.

The car rounded a huge circular fountain and pulled to a stop.

As the men exited the car, she tensed. The back doors of the sedan were wrenched open. One guy grabbed Saskia and pulled her out. The other man lifted Addie.

The large, double doors to the house opened. A tall man in a dark suit appeared, his long face blank. As the guard led her up the steps, the lights in the garden gave the place a fairytale glow.

But this was not a fairytale. It was a nightmare.

The tall man eyed her, then Addie, and nodded.

Anger burned. It was like they were cattle, being checked out.

“Rooms have been prepared for them upstairs,” the man told the guards. “With the others.”

Others?

Saskia’s guard shoved her, and she stumbled through the door. The inside of the house was as opulent as the outside. There was a lot of wood and stone. The doorways and windows were all arches. She was thrust toward a wide, curving staircase with iron railings.

Moments later, she was shoved into a room, and she heard the door being locked behind her.

Saskia pulled in a shuddering breath.

The bedroom was large and airy. There was a modern, four-poster bed, and a sitting area to one side with plush couches. She moved over to the large windows.

There were lights on in the garden below, surrounding a huge pool. Beyond that lay the shadows of more grapevines.

The man had said others. Were there more women here? Being subjected to who knew what?

Her belly cramped. A sob escaped and she bent over. Deep breaths, Saskia. She tried to pull air into her lungs.

This couldn’t be happening. How could she just be taken? Snatched away from her life?

She turned, caught her reflection in a round mirror with a wooden frame on the wall. She looked pale, her hair askew and disheveled.

Fuck this. She straightened and tore her hair tie free. She re-did her hair in a ponytail. She marched into the adjoining bathroom and splashed some water on her face. Then she drank some to ease her dry throat.

She wasn’t going to fall apart. She wasn’t going to wait to see what happened.

She was getting out of there.

These assholes had kidnapped the wrong woman.

She opened all the drawers of the vanity. They were filled with things for a woman. All kinds of toiletries, lotions, and makeup. She found a small can of hairspray and slipped it in her pocket. Then she found some hairpins. She held one up and smiled.

Saskia headed out, her mind whirling. She’d pick the lock, sneak out, then find a phone.

They were at a vineyard. She bit her bottom lip as she thought. Perhaps in California?

That meant Cam might be close. Her heart did a thump thump.

Then she got to work picking the lock. Killian had taught her a few useful skills over the years.

She managed to scratch her finger and poke herself twice before she heard the click.

She grinned and cracked open the door.

There was no sign of anyone in the wide hallway.

Saskia darted out, her pulse racing. When she reached the stairs, she heard deep voices talking below.

Crap.

She pulled back. She needed another way down.

She darted back down the hallway, trying to keep her steps quiet. The plush carpet helped. The doors lining the hall were all closed. From one, she heard a woman crying.

Her steps faltered. Was it Addie? Addie was here somewhere, and obviously other women as well. She straightened her shoulders. The best way to help them was to get out and get help.

She spotted a smaller internal stairway.

Yes.

She hurried down. She ended up in an area of the mansion that clearly belonged to the workers. An area where they could do their jobs without being seen or heard. She heard pots and pans banging in a kitchen. Voices were talking inside another room. She peeked in. It was a laundry. There were several women in black and white uniforms folding sheets.

Saskia rushed past. Then she heard male voices speaking in Russian.

Oh, no. Her heart lodged in her throat. The voices were getting closer.

She yanked open the nearest door. It was a storage cupboard. She slipped in, pressed up against mops and brooms, and tugged the door closed.

She heard the men pass by and let out a shuddering breath. Adrenaline pulsed through her, and her hands were shaking.

Once everything was quiet again, she slipped out.

She passed the kitchen. Steam billowed from some pots on the stove, but there was no one in sight.

Then she spied a cell phone resting on the counter beside a handheld radio and a set of keys.

Her heart rapped against her ribs.

She darted out and snatched the phone. She hurried around a corner and thumbed the screen.

It wasn’t locked. Yes. It had a logo of a fountain on the screen that looked like the one outside. It must be a house phone.

Killian was out of the country, and she figured there was a decent chance she was in California. She licked her lips. Plus, she knew Cam’s phone number by memory.

She tapped it in. “Please, pick up. Please, pick—”

“Morgan.”

The sound of his rough voice made her feel weak. “Cam!”

“Fuck, Saskia. Are you all right? Where are you?”

“I’m okay.” A sob welled. “They took me. I’m not sure where I am—”

“Ty che blyad?”

A man in a suit rushed her, knocking the phone out of her hand.

“Cam!” she screamed.

The guard rammed her into the wall, knocking the air out of her. He smacked her again, and her head hit the plaster. Dazed, she could barely stay on her feet.

The man brought his shoe down on the phone and it crunched.

Despair speared into her. No, she wouldn’t lose hope. Cam knew she was alive, that someone had taken her.

The man grabbed a fistful of her shirt, glowering at her. He yanked her, and she tried to kick him.

With another curse in Russian, he picked her up.

She fought, she twisted, she tried to bite him, but he subdued her with his giant hands. He hauled her down the corridor and into a large living area.

It had a stone floor, leather couches, and an enormous stone fireplace. All it needed was an Italian count.

Her captor dropped her on her feet. She tossed her head back and froze.

Instead of an Italian count, she got an older man with a large, double chin, gray hair, and a designer suit. The suit stretched over a body that may have once been fit but had gone soft. He sat in the armchair like it was a throne.

“Ah, Ms. Hawke.” He had a heavy Russian accent. “You are even more beautiful in person.”

Saskia swallowed. The man rose from the armchair, the lights flashing on the large gold rings on his fingers.

“I love the way you dance,” the man said.

“Let me go,” she said. “You can’t just kidnap people.”

“I am Yaroslav Mikhailov. And I do as I please.”

“She tried to escape,” the guard said.

“Ah, I admire your spirit.” The man got closer and cupped her jaw. She tried to pull away from him.

Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.

Saskia smelled onions and wine. She clamped her teeth down on his lip.

He cursed and slapped her.

Ow. As she righted herself, he pulled out a handkerchief, and dabbed his bleeding lip.

Her cheek stung, but she glared, refusing to show any pain or fear.

The man scowled for a second, then he started to laugh. “You have fire and spirit. It’s what makes you such a good dancer.” He leaned in, his pale blue eyes glinting. “I look forward to breaking you, sweet Saskia.”

“Screw you.”

“You will. I can’t wait for you to dance for me.” His smile widened. “Naked.”

“Never,” she said shakily, her stomach curdling.

Mikhailov just kept smiling, then flicked a hand in dismissal.

The guard dragged her away.

“FUCK. FUCK.” Cam narrowly avoided throwing his phone. He pressed his hands to the back of his neck.

On the big screen on the wall, Hex hunched over a fancy laptop, her hands a blur.

“Where did the call originate?” Wolf barked from beside the hacker.

Hex’s nose scrunched. “I’m working on it, big guy. Chill.”

“Any word from Hades?” Vander asked.

Wolf shook his head, leaning back in the chair beside Hex. “Not yet. But don’t worry, Hades will find that asshole Palmer.”

“Hades can find anyone,” Hex said.

Cam met Vander’s gaze. His boss was sitting in a chair, tapping his fingers on the armrest.

“I heard a man speak Russian,” Cam said. “Whoever it was, he cut the call off.”

“She’s alive, Cam,” Vander said. “And she’s fighting. Hold on to that.”

Brynn walked in with two mugs of coffee. She’d changed into jeans and a green sweater.

“Here.” She handed one mug to Cam.

“I’m fine.”

“Drink it, Camden. It’s late, and when we find her, she’ll need you.”

He took the coffee with a chin lift. He hoped to hell that Brynn was right. That they found her.

Brynn ran a hand along Vander’s shoulder.

He looked at the mug. “For me?”

“Yes.” She dropped a quick kiss to his mouth and handed him the coffee.

Cam watched the pair. So easy, connected.

Vander met his gaze, and didn’t look away.

Cam knew his boss was trying to convey a message. He looked back at the screens and took another sip of his own coffee.

On-screen, Hex let loose with a stream of impressive curses. She hunched her shoulders even more and kept working.

Shit, Cam wanted to get out there and search for Saskia.

It damn near killed him not to have any clue where she was.

“Any news?” a deep voice asked from the doorway.

Cam turned. His brother stood there.

“Not yet,” Cam said.

Hunt was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater. Beside him, blonde, beautiful Savannah’s face was ravaged with worry.

“I can’t believe this,” Savannah said shakily.

Savannah and Saskia were best friends. They’d been separated while Savannah had been on the run from a stalker, but they were still tight and had reconnected after Hunt had dealt with the asshole who’d terrorized Savannah for years.

Hunt strode in and gripped Cam’s shoulder, studying him carefully.

“She just called me,” Cam told them. “She’s alive, but someone caught her and ended the call.”

Savannah gasped, and Hunt pulled his woman into his arms.

“We’ll find her,” Hunt promised.

Cam gave a tight nod. But he couldn’t find her until they had a damn location.

“I knew there was something going on with you two,” Savannah said.

Cam blew out a breath. “There’s nothing going on. We’re just friends.”

Savannah arched a brow.

“We talk. That’s it. That’s…all I have to offer.”

There was the sound of a slamming door and on the screen, Hex jumped, and Wolf straightened in his chair.

A dark-haired man strode in, dragging a struggling, sniveling man with pale hair behind him.

The dark-haired man threw the blond into a chair, then thrust his hands on his hips.

Cam stared. The guy was stupidly handsome and clearly Italian. He reminded Cam a little of Vander, but his hair was a little longer with a hint of a curl. He had dark eyes, carved cheekbones, and dark scruff on his strong jaw.

He wore a white shirt, suit pants, and a long, three-quarter-length, navy-blue coat.

The blond man was still spluttering. He was disheveled and panicked. He wore a slick suit and had lots of flash.

“Chad Palmer.” The dark-haired man had a faint touch of an Italian accent. He had to be Hades.

“Nice work, Hades.” Wolf rose. “We have some questions for you, Mr. Palmer.”

“This psycho—” Palmer waved a hand at Hades “—dragged me out of a club. I left a bottle of Macallan behind, barely touched.”

“And several lines of blow,” Hades added.

Palmer glanced at them, then swallowed. “Who the fuck are you? You can’t just snatch someone against their will.”

Cam set his mug down on the desk with a hard crack. All the gazes in the room and on the screen flicked to him.

“Isn’t that what you do to beautiful, young women?” Cam knew his voice held a deadly edge.

Palmer’s eyes widened. “No. No, I—”

“The dance performance in Central Park today,” Wolf said. “Who’d you arrange it for?”

Palmer swallowed.

“Don’t test my patience, Palmer,” Wolf drawled.

“Lukom, Inc.”

“Who is Lukom?” Wolf pressed.

“I don’t know. I just do my job and get paid—”

Cam’s fists curled. “Answer him.”

Palmer jerked.

“Be thankful he isn’t here,” Wolf said. “You took his woman, and he knows lots of ways to hurt you.”

Palmer shifted on the chair and lifted a shaky hand to his mouth. His gaze flicked sideways. “I really don’t know—”

Hades moved. His first punch hit Palmer’s jaw, snapping the man’s head back. The second one landed in Palmer’s gut, doubling him over.

“Name. Now,” Hades barked.

“Mikhailov.” Palmer threw up an arm.

Cam’s gut tightened, then he heard both Hunt and Brynn curse.

“Yaroslav Mikhailov?” Hunt demanded.

Palmer nodded.

“Mikhailov has businesses here in San Francisco,” Hunt said.

“He’s Mafia?” Wolf asked.

“No, a wealthy Russian with contacts in the Russian government. His businesses are not always legal, but we’ve never been able to pin anything on him. He likes to throw expensive parties, and he has properties and yachts littered across the world.”

Brynn crossed her arms. “And he has a thing for beautiful women. Models, actresses, dancers.”

“He was obsessed with one of the dancers,” Palmer said. “He wanted her. Sasha something. Sasha Hawke. No, Saskia Hawke. He wanted her to dance for him.”

Cam ground his teeth together. “She’s not a fucking toy. He picked the wrong woman to snatch.”

“She had no boyfriend or family,” Palmer squeaked.

“You’re wrong, you sick fuck,” Wolf growled. “So, you do the research on the women before you arrange for them to disappear, do you?”

Palmer froze.

“Oh, if you think I’ll hurt you,” Wolf’s voice lowered to a rough growl. “It’s nothing compared to what my boss will do to you. Saskia’s brother.”

“Or me,” Cam added quietly.

Palmer’s terrified gaze flicked up to meet Cam’s on the screen.

“I’ve been very well-trained by Uncle Sam on how to kill scumbags.”

“I…Mikhailov took her! Not me.”

“Where?” Cam barked.

Palmer swiped a hand across his mouth. “He has a vineyard. A big estate in Napa.”

Cam stiffened. Napa? That was barely a few hours away.

“I got a trace on the cell phone call,” Hex said. “Napa Valley. An estate owned by the Yusal Corporation.”

“That’s one of Mikhailov’s companies,” Palmer said.

Cam turned to Vander. “We go in and get her.”

“You know we can’t just storm the place, Cam. He’ll have armed guards. We need intel and time to prep.”

A muscle ticked in Cam’s jaw. “She might not have time.”

“We’ll get prepped as soon as we can. You’re no good to her dead.” Vander gave one sharp nod. “We’ll get her back.”

They fucking would, Cam promised silently. Whatever it took.

CHAPTER FOUR

Saskia sat curled on the big bed, her knees pressed to her chest.

The late afternoon was turning into evening. She’d been locked in the opulent room all day. Her gilded prison.

Food had been dropped off on a tray. It looked gourmet, but she was too afraid to eat, worried it was drugged.

She’d napped fitfully a few times throughout the day, sitting against a wall in the bathroom, with the door locked and a chair wedged under the handle. She was terrified some goon would bust in and drag her off to Mikhailov while she was sleeping.

She tasted bile in her mouth and fought back tears. She kept imagining Cam breaking in to rescue her.

She dashed the tears away. She knew he’d be looking for her. So would the Sentinel Security team.

But they had no idea where she was.

She heard voices outside the house and went to the window.

A party had been set up by the pool. Lights were strung up, and braziers were burning. People—mostly men in suits—were gathered in small groups, talking. They sipped drinks and nabbed food off the trays carried around by white-suited servers.

It was damn genteel, but it was just a giant front for sex traffickers. Anger burned through her chest.

Earlier, a woman had delivered a dress and shoes to Saskia’s room, and told Saskia to be ready for this evening’s party.

Saskia had thrown the dress into the hall. When a guard had arrived, and warned her that if she wasn’t dressed and ready that she’d be stripped and taken down to the party naked, she’d almost screamed.

Anger and frustration mixed inside her. She stomped back to the bed.

The dress lying there was beautiful. It was a ballet-inspired evening dress with a blue tulle skirt that would hit at midcalf, and a fitted V-neck bodice in navy blue. Dangly, diamond earrings and silvery heels that made her think of Cinderella slippers completed the outfit.

She huffed out a breath. There was no way she wanted to end up naked in front of a crowd of strangers.

Remembering the horrible lust in Mikhailov’s eyes as he’d stared at her made her belly roll sickeningly.

She had to get out of here.

Saskia quickly dressed. She left her hair in a bun and kept her makeup light. No way she was dressing up more than she had to. She slipped the earrings in her ears. As she’d suspected, the dress was beautiful, and fit her like a glove.

She went back to the window. She saw some women being escorted into the party by guards. They were all wearing slinky, sparkly dresses, but even from a distance they looked stiff and unhappy.

Then she saw a woman with blonde curls and she sucked in a breath. Addie. The woman was wearing a sleek column of pink. She was crying, and a guard was angry at her.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Saskia pushed open the window. The sound of a string quartet hit her. She glanced over and spied a small dance floor.

The thought of dancing for Mikhailov made her sick.

Her gaze dropped to the ledge outside her window. Her heart thumped and she leaned out. The ledge was quite wide.

Wide enough to walk along.

Saskia didn’t stop to think. She gripped the window frame and stepped out.

The cool evening breeze caught her, raising goosebumps on her bare arms. A cocktail dress and bare feet wasn’t the best outfit for escaping a mansion. She shimmied along the ledge, and passed several other windows. She got a glimpse of more well-decorated bedrooms.

Ahead, a drainpipe traveled the height of the mansion. It wouldn’t be easy to climb down, but she was fit and strong, so—

A shout.

She whipped her head back and spotted a craggy-faced guard looking out the window from her room.

Oh, no.

Saskia moved faster. The guard lifted a radio to his mouth.

A shout came from below. There was another guard down in the gardens, waving at her.

Dammit.

Gritting her teeth, she reached the drainpipe. She couldn’t go down, so she’d go up.

She gripped the metal and climbed.

It was harder than she’d guessed it would be. She pressed her bare feet to the pipe. The dress caught, and she heard something tear.

The guard was out on the ledge now, heading toward her.

She reached the roof of the house, and using all her strength, pulled herself over the edge.

Saskia stopped for a second, resting flat on the shingles, catching her breath.

Move, Saskia.

She rose, and the wind whipped up her skirt. She was highly conscious that she had no idea what to do next.

She started across the roof and prayed she didn’t slip off. She crossed over and looked down. Below, she spotted another guard, looking up at her.

No. By the time she climbed down, he’d be waiting for her at the bottom.

She kept moving.

Another shout.

She looked back over her shoulder. There was a guard on the roof. He started in her direction.

Her heart leaped into her throat. She had to find a way off.

She heard the squawk of a radio and spotted another guard hauling himself up onto the roof from the other side.

Oh, God.

They’d catch her. They’d take her back.

Fighting down panic, she adjusted her course. She ended up at the roof edge, looking down at the fancy party and the pool below.

She saw an older man in a suit pull a curvy brunette toward him. The woman looked like she wanted to puke as the man fondled her ass through her white dress.

The guards were getting closer.

Saskia lifted her chin. She was a Hawke. She wouldn’t let these assholes rape and abuse her.

Her thoughts turned to Camden.

God, she would give anything to be with him right now. To have his hard arms around her.

“Stop!” a guard yelled at her.

“Fuck you!” she yelled back.

The partygoers below were noticing her, some of them pointing.

Suddenly, a gunshot echoed through the night.

Saskia screamed and ducked. She saw one of the guards on the roof aiming a gun in her direction.

The other guard waved his arms. “No! Mr. Mikhailov wants her alive.”

Mr. Mikhailov could get fucked.

Saskia backed up, her heart beating hard in her ears.

Then she ran.

The man behind her yelled. She didn’t stop. She leaped into the air, throwing herself forward.

God, she hoped she made it.

Her dress flapped around her, the wind catching her face.

She hit the pool with a huge splash.

Her dress floated up, tangling around her body. She flailed. The water was heated at least.

Her head broke the surface. There were shouts and screams.

The party turned into chaos.

Saskia pushed her way to the steps. People were staring at her, goggle-eyed.

She climbed out of the pool, water dripping off her. Out of the heated water, the cold air cut through her.

Time to go.

She broke into a run, stumbling through the people. The confused crowd parted for her. Women stepped out of her way.

A man tried to grab her, and she shoved him away.

Somewhere behind her, guards were bellowing, then she heard more gunshots.

No.

She plunged off the paved area, cut across the grass, and ran into the grapevines.

CAM WATCHED everything go to hell.

He was crouched in the grapevines with Vander, and the rest of the Norcross team: Saxon Buchanan, Siv Pedersen, Rome Nash, and Vander’s brother Rhys.

Hunt was waiting for a call as soon as they needed any police assistance.

Cam wore a ballistic vest like the others, and had a Glock 22 handgun strapped to his thigh.

He couldn’t believe these assholes—wealthy, entitled pricks—were having a damn party with kidnapped women as entertainment. These men probably put in damn orders for what they wanted: a blonde, a redhead. A ballet dancer.

His hand flexed, every muscle in his body taut.

It ended today.

Then he saw a flash of blue on the roof and his heart stopped.

Saskia.

She was on the damn roof. He watched a guard chase her, and his gut went tight. If she slipped…

He touched his earpiece. “Vander.”

“I see her. Saxon, Rhys, circle around the house and disable any guards.”

“With pleasure,” Saxon drawled.

“These women are all trafficked?” Siv murmured.

“We think so,” Vander replied.

She cursed in Norwegian.

Cam’s gaze stayed glued to Saskia. He heard the gunshot and saw one asshole guard shooting at her.

“Fuck,” he bit out.

Then he saw Saskia at the edge of the roof. His gut curdled, knowing exactly what she had planned.

“No, don’t you do it.”

Helplessly, he watched as she threw herself off the roof.

Cam shot to his feet. When she hit the pool, he was running.

“Cam!” Vander’s urgent voice. “Cam, dammit.”

But Cam wasn’t waiting any longer. He’d waited all damn day while they’d pulled the schematics for Mikhailov’s Napa estate. Hex had dug up every likely bit of information she could on guard numbers, workers, the guest list for the party.

The guests tonight were a mix of legitimate businessmen, and not-so-legitimate.

Cam heard more gunshots, the crowd panicking.

Fuck.

He ran into the party. Guests scattered and screams broke out. Cam fired a shot into the air, and people ran.

He spotted a soaking wet Saskia darting away from the pool.

The little fool was alive.

He charged toward her.

A guard in a suit ran at Cam. A lethal chill settled over him. These people were hurting women. Hurting Saskia.

A hard chop knocked the gun out of the man’s hand. Cam followed through with a wicked punch to the man’s gut, followed by an elbow to the guy’s face.

The guard dropped like a waterlogged coat.

Cam charged on. He couldn’t see Saskia anywhere.

Damn. Had a guard gotten to her?

Then he spotted a trail of water on the pavement. It headed straight into the grapevines.

He swiveled, and caught a glimpse of a guard charging into the vines after her.

Oh no, you fucking don’t.

Cam raced after the man, sprinting between the two long lines of vines.

Ahead, he heard a woman scream, and saw the shadow of a guard looming over a struggling Saskia in the darkness. Her dress was a pale blue on the dark ground.

“Let me go!” she yelled.

Cam came in hot.

He threw an arm over the guard’s head and pulled back hard against the man’s throat.

His arm dug in, and the man gagged. Cam dragged the man down, and a few hard hits had him slumping to the grass, moaning.

Cam straightened.

Saskia stared at him, her face pale and her lips parted.

Damn. She’d just watched him choke and beat a man unconscious. She must be terrified—

“Camden.” She leaped up and flew at him.

He caught her wet body and pulled her in tight.

God. She was alive and felt perfect against him.

“Cam. God, Cam. I prayed that you would find me.”

“I’ve been searching since the first time you called me.”

She made a sound, burrowing against him and he tightened his hold.

“I was so afraid.” She lifted her head and their gazes met in the faint light. She cupped his stubbled cheeks, went up on her toes, and kissed him.

He’d been holding back all his brewing feelings for this woman for months now.

At the touch of her soft lips, at the tiniest taste of her sweetness, something detonated inside him.

She was alive.

She was in his arms.

She was kissing him.

He deepened the kiss, pulling her harder against him. He stroked his tongue into her mouth.

She gasped against his lips and Cam slid a hand down, palming her ass through all the damp layers of her dress.

She made a needy sound, gripping his shirt.

The sound of more gunfire had Cam jerking back to reality and breaking the kiss.

Saskia shivered and he realized how cold she had to be.

He touched his ear. “Vander, I have her. We’re in the vines.”

“Acknowledged.” Vander’s clipped voice. “Guards are running. I’ve called in Hunt.”

The distant wail of sirens caught Cam’s ear.

“Mikhailov?” he asked.

At the name, Saskia jerked against him. He ran a hand down her back.

“We haven’t found him yet,” Vander said grimly.

“Find that scum, Vander, or I will.”

“Your priority is to keep Saskia safe.”

And he’d do that. No one was getting to her again.

She shivered and he pulled her closer.

“It’s going to be okay. Vander and the others will sort out the Russians. The police are on the way.”

“There are—” her teeth chattered “—other women in the house, Cam. God.” She pressed her face to his chest. “They drugged us, kidnapped us.”

“I know.” He rubbed a hand up and down her back. Her sense of safety and security had been shattered. He’d joined the Army to protect innocents back home. To make sure kids, families, regular people could have normal lives. To insulate them from evil.

It gutted him that Saskia hadn’t been safe in her own country.

If she was yours, you’d protect her.

Cam tried to block that dangerous voice in his head. If she was his, she’d see the darkness inside him.

It would kill him to see her look at him with horror in her eyes.

“Come on.” The sirens were louder now, and the gunfire had stopped.

As they neared the pool, he saw Siv leap up and kick a guard. She took the man down fast and a second later, had him pinned face down, his hands zip tied behind him.

Cam rubbed Saskia’s back. “We’ll wait here—”

A man charged through one of the grapevines. “The woman comes with me.”

He was an ugly brute, his accent thick, and he had a heavy scar on his neck.

Cam didn’t reply. The asshole pulled a knife. He didn’t want to give away their location by shooting. The hard glint in the man’s eyes said he knew how to use the blade.

Saskia gasped and Cam pushed her behind him.

The guard rushed him, his arm swinging.

Cam sidestepped, but the knife nicked him. Ignoring it, he lunged and landed a sharp jab to the man’s ribs. The guard grunted. Cam stepped close and hammered at the man’s elbow. He dropped the knife and cursed. He sloppily swung at Cam, and got lucky, hitting Cam’s side. It wasn’t a neat hit, but the guy had power. Cam blocked the pain, crouched, and grabbed the knife.

He narrowly avoided the guard’s kick and surged to his feet.

He buried the knife in the guard’s side with brutal efficiency.

The man made a gurgling sound and dropped.

“Saskia, you okay?” Cam quickly divested the man of his weapons and tossed them into the vines. “Saskia?”

“I’m okay,” she said quietly.

He helped her up. He saw that she was hanging on by a thread, but she was holding it together.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said.

Her lips trembled, her gaze on his face. “I know.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Saskia couldn’t stop shivering.

She was still damp, and the cool, night air wasn’t helping. She pulled the blanket someone had given her tighter around her body.

But thankfully Cam’s intense body heat was slowly warming her up.

They were sitting by the pool, police striding around everywhere. The guests had been corralled inside for questioning. Police officers were with the women.

Saskia was sitting on Cam’s lap on an outdoor chair, her face pressed against his neck. She shivered again and his arms tightened around her.

“How’s she doing?” a deep voice asked.

“She’s cold. She’s still wet and a little shocky.” Cam’s voice rumbled under her ear.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. She looked up at Hunt.

Her best friend’s man was good-looking, with a muscled body under his suit, and a rugged face. It was obvious that he and Cam were brothers, although Hunt looked very cop-like, while Cam had a harder, sharper edge.

“How are the other women?” she asked.

“They’re being questioned and taken care of.” Hunt blew out a breath. “Some of them have been here a while.” Anger vibrated through his voice.

Saskia felt sick. Her hand convulsed and clenched on Cam’s shirt.

“Mikhailov?” Cam asked.

A muscle ticked in Hunt’s jaw. “He got away. Witnesses saw a Bentley speed away soon after the shooting started.”

Saskia stiffened. “That monster is still out there?”

“Hey.” Cam tipped her face up. “You’re safe. We aren’t going to let anything happen to you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She nodded, throat tight. It was shocking how safe he made her feel.

“Mikhailov is a horrible man.”

Cam’s face changed. “Did he touch you?”

“No. Not really.”

Cam’s fingers tightened on her arms. “What’s not really mean?”

“Cam…” Hunt’s voice held a note of warning.

“He tried,” she whispered. “He kissed me. I bit him.”

Now a muscle ticked in Cam’s jaw. She realized how tense his body was beneath her.

She cupped his cheek, feeling the ridge of his scar under her fingers. She stroked his skin. “I’m all right. There are others here who have suffered far worse than me.”

He hauled her closer. “That sick fuck is going down.”

“You aren’t hunting him alone.”

The new voice sent shivers down Saskia’s spine. It sounded like the sharpest blade.

She looked up at Vander Norcross.

He was objectively good-looking, but the lethal edge made him look dangerous. He was a man who reminded her strongly of her brother.

Vander’s team stood behind him. She recognized Rome, Rhys, Siv, and Saxon. Vander’s dark gaze moved over her, assessing. Killian had the same vibe, but her brother was her brother, so she wasn’t afraid of him.

Vander, however, looked like he could stage a coup and it would be over before anyone knew what was going on. And his team behind him looked edgy, like they wanted to fight more people.

“Mikhailov came onto our turf and pulled this shit.” Vander gave a hard shake of his head. “No, we’ll all be hunting him down.”

“Vander, you should leave this to the police,” Hunt said.

Vander just crossed his arms over his chest.

Hunt sighed. “Fuck.”

Saskia snuggled deeper against Cam. For the first time since this horrible ordeal began, she truly felt safe.

Thanks to Cam. A man she didn’t know well, but whose inner strength and core of honor shone through his rugged, scarred exterior.

She knew he thought he was too broken for a relationship. She disagreed. And this abduction underscored just how fragile life could be. How everything could be snatched away in the blink of an eye.

From now on, she planned to grab onto life. Do all the things she dreamed about.

Go after the things that mattered.

“Saskia!”

The female voice made her head jerk up.

Addie, still in a pink dress but wrapped in a blanket, ran out of the house.

“Addie.” Saskia rose, but couldn’t make herself let go of Cam. He stood with her and held her hand.

“Oh, my Lord.” Addie threw her arms around Saskia. “I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

Saskia hugged the woman with one arm. “Are you hurt, Addie? Did anyone hurt you?”

“I’m fine. Totally fine.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “Gosh, when you jumped off the roof into the pool…” Then she looked up and her gaze snagged on Cam, Hunt, Vander, and the others. Addie blinked. “Um…”

“Addie, these are my friends. They found us. Guys, this is Addie, a dancer from New York who was taken with me.”

Hunt nodded. “I’m Detective Hunter Morgan. I’m sorry this happened to you, Addie.”

“Thank you. I am…I’ll be fine now, Detective.” Addie’s gaze took in Saskia and Cam’s clasped hands.

“Hunt is my best friend’s fiancé,” Saskia told her.

“And who is this?” Addie looked at Cam, a small smile blooming on her face.

“This is my…Cam. This is Cam.”

“Your Cam, huh? Well, I’m very glad you’re friends with a team of badasses, Saskia.” Then Addie’s voice cracked.

“Oh, Addie.” Saskia gripped the woman’s hand and squeezed.

“I’m fine.” The blonde sniffed and lifted her chin. “I heard some of the women inside sharing their stories…” She shuddered.

Hunt put a hand on Addie’s shoulder and waved a female officer over. “Why don’t we get you a hot drink, Addie?”

The woman nodded. “That would be lovely.”

Addie and Saskia hugged again. Saskia watched the woman go, her head held high.

“Saskia, Savannah’s prepared the guest room at our place for you,” Hunt said. “She’s pretty eager to see you. She’s sent me about twenty messages.”

Instant fear flooded Saskia. Her throat went tight. “No. I…” She couldn’t explain her feelings. Her fingers clenched on Cam’s.

She knew she’d be safe with Hunt and Savannah. He was a freaking cop, after all. But…she felt safe with Cam. She didn’t want to leave him.

“I don’t…” She turned to Cam.

His green gaze was unreadable, his mouth a flat line. “You should go with Hunt. Savannah will take care of you.”

It felt like a rejection. Saskia took a step back and saw his mouth flatten even more. But she still held on to his hand.

“I want to go with you,” she said.

“Saskia…” He lifted her hand.

“Please,” she whispered. “I want to feel safe. I…” Her face crumpled. There were too many emotions churning inside her, added to her exhaustion.

Cam muttered a curse and yanked her to him.

She wrapped her arms around his body. “You probably just want to get rid of me…”

“No, that’s not it. Savannah can take care of you. A woman’s touch.”

“I don’t want Savannah right now. I want you.”

His hands convulsed. She gripped him tighter, couldn’t let go.

“Saskia,” Hunt said, in a low soothing tone. “I promise we’ll—”

“No. No.” She shook her head.

They all probably thought she was crazy.

“She’s coming with me,” Cam said.

And finally, Saskia’s panic subsided.

CAM UNLOCKED his front door and let Saskia inside.

“This is nice.” She wandered into his apartment, looking around.

“I’m just renting it off Easton.”

The two-bed apartment was in a great building in SoMa, a short drive from the Norcross Security office. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave a great view of the city, and he liked the wooden floors.

She nodded, sliding her arms around herself. She was still in the pretty blue dress with the blanket around her shoulders. “It’s classy and masculine. I love the wood and dark cabinets in the kitchen.” Her gaze moved to him. “You’re renting because you haven’t felt settled enough to buy a place of your own?”

He resisted the urge to shift his feet. They’d talked on the phone, and he’d shared some stuff, but not everything.

He shrugged a shoulder. Hell, when he’d first come home to San Francisco, he wasn’t sure he’d even stay. He’d been recovering from the bomb blast, grieving for his best friend, Kris, who’d died in the blast. Cam hadn’t been sure he could stay.

Thankfully, the job at Norcross Security suited him.

And his family was relentless. His mom dropped around frequently. He went out for beers and a burger with his brothers. Although, now that they’d both fallen in love, that might decrease a bit.

Cam didn’t mind. He was happy for Hunt and Ryder, and he liked Savannah and Siv. Siv was also a friend now, since they worked together. Cam would have the woman on his team any day.

Saskia shivered.

“Shower,” he said. “You need to get warm.”

She looked at the floor. “I need to get clean.”

He told himself not to touch her. He couldn’t risk getting too close. He told her that he’d keep her safe, and that meant protecting her from himself as well.

“I’ll find you some clothes to wear, then make you some…” she needed something warm and soothing “…tea.”

She nodded. “Tea sounds good.”

Crap, he hoped he had tea.

He led her to the guest bedroom. The bed was covered in a cream cover and a geometric artwork painting in blue and orange hung on the wall. He gestured to the adjoining bathroom. “Clean towels are in the cabinet.”

Big brown eyes met his. “Thanks, Cam.”

He nodded.

Once he heard the shower start, he headed to his own room.

There wasn’t much in the way of decoration. A dark-blue wall behind the metal bed added some color. There was a rich, gray bed cover that his mother had given him, and a small painting Savannah had gifted him.

It was a long, graceful dancer, mid-twirl.

He rummaged in his closet and found a clean T-shirt and some sweatpants. He knew they’d be far too big for Saskia, but they’d have to do for now.

He headed back to leave them outside the bathroom. Then he heard the sobs.

His hands clenched. He knew he should walk away, but a part deep inside of him needed to keep her safe.

Even from her pain.

Cam opened the bathroom door, and what he found made his battered heart squeeze.

Saskia sat in the bottom of the shower stall, still in her dress. Her hair was loose and drenched. She was crying like her heart was broken.

He toed his shoes off and stepped into the shower. He dropped down beside her and pulled her onto his lap.

With a sob, she curled into him, clinging tight. The water soaked his clothes, but he’d been in far worse situations.

“You’re going to be okay,” he told her.

“I know.” A hiccupping sound. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. I’m safe, I’m not hurt. There are others far worse off than me. What they suffered…”

Cam felt an uncomfortable burn in his gut. He knew that feeling all too fucking much. Knew what it was to survive when other good people died or were injured.

Kris had been his best friend, a brother in every way. They’d been in the Army together, made Delta Force together, and then Ghost Ops. He’d been a damn fine man with a killer sense of humor. And because Cam had fucked up, he’d died.

He didn’t have any words to comfort her, so he just pulled her closer.

They sat like that, the water falling over them for a long time.

Her sobs slowed and she pulled in a shaky breath. She toyed with the button on his shirt.

“Why do I feel so safe with you?”

Damn. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t. But right then, with Saskia in his arms, he couldn’t.

“You are safe, Saskia. I promise.” He cupped her jaw.

Her gaze met his, and he saw the hunger and the desire that she didn’t hide.

Shit.

“I’m going to leave you to finish your shower. I put some clean clothes on the edge of the tub and I’ll go make that tea.”

A flash of disappointment on her face, but she nodded. “Thanks, Cam.”

Even if he did let himself have her, he wouldn’t go there tonight. Not while she was hurting and vulnerable.

He snagged a towel and left. In his own bathroom, he stripped off his wet clothes. In his head, he saw her beautiful face, slim shoulders, mass of black hair.

Damn. His cock responded. He growled, and ignoring it, he dried off. He couldn’t have her. She wasn’t for him. He couldn’t ever forget that.

He dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt.

In the kitchen, he put the kettle on and made some toast. She needed some sustenance.

There was movement and he looked up. She appeared with a small smile. Her hair was brushed out and loose.

His sweats were far too big, but she’d folded over the waistband, and his T-shirt was knotted on the side. She looked like a little girl playing dress-up.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded.

He pulled out a chair at the round table. “The tea’s ready, and I made you some toast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

She bit her lip and tucked her legs up under her on the chair. “I couldn’t risk eating. I was afraid there’d be drugs in the food.”

He dropped the plate and mug on the table in front of her. “Eat,” he ordered.

“I didn’t think you were this bossy.” She sipped the tea he’d made.

“I can be very bossy.”

He sat beside her and watched her nibble on the toast.

She was alive. The relief spilling around inside him was intense.

She tucked some damp hair back behind her ear. “I need to call Sentinel Security, and my dance director, and then—”

He placed a hand over hers. “You need to rest. Vander’s already been in touch with Wolf. And you can call your director in the morning.”

“Killian?” she asked.

“Still out of range. Wolf will reach him.”

She finished half the toast. Her hands were cradling the mug when her eyelids started to droop.

He took the mug from her hands and set it on the table. “Bed.” The adrenaline that had kept her going through her ordeal had worn off. She needed sleep.

Saskia nodded, docile. He led her to the guest room. The bed was neatly made, and he’d left the bedside lamp on.

She fidgeted with the hem of his T-shirt. “This is nice.”

He touched her cheek, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms. “Remember, you’re safe here. I won’t let anyone disturb you.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep.”

He made himself leave. Cam headed back to the living room. There was no way he’d sleep. He rarely got more than a few hours a night. Besides, he would make damn sure no one disturbed a second of her rest. But mostly, he couldn’t risk waking from a nightmare, screaming. It didn’t happen so often now, but he wouldn’t risk it.

He dropped onto the couch and channel surfed. He found a thriller movie and sank back on his buttery, leather couch, his gaze on the TV, his mind on the beautiful ballerina one room away.

He didn’t hear a sound, but he looked up from the screen, knowing she was there.

She’d ditched the sweatpants and was just wearing his T-shirt. Her long, slender legs were bare.

Damn. He went hard.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to be alone.”

He couldn’t say no to her. He was so fucked.

He opened his arms, and she made a beeline straight for him. He pulled her onto his lap, then tipped them sideways onto the couch. At the same time, he grabbed the throw blanket his mom had bought him—pale green and super soft—off the back of the couch and pulled it over them.

Saskia settled her slim body against him, then pressed her face into his neck. She let out a little sigh, and he felt some of the tension leave her.

Cam kept an arm locked around her, and stared at the ceiling.

He had to find a way to keep her safe from him. He couldn’t give her what she needed. He lay there, holding her until she fell asleep.

CHAPTER SIX

Saskia woke up on the couch, encased in strong, muscular arms. Her back was pressed to Cam’s body, his morning erection against her butt.

She felt safe and warm.

She squeezed her eyes closed. How was it possible to move so quickly from experiencing one of the worst times of her life, to now, one of the best ones?

She savored the feel of him, the warmth of him, and the sound of his steady, even breathing.

When she felt him stir, she stayed still and relaxed. His hand flexed on her hip, and she heard him draw in a sharp breath.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning.” He shifted to sit upright. “Sorry, I didn’t plan for us to sleep on the couch.”

“It’s fine.” She sat up as well. “It’s the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

A groove appeared on his brow. “Me too.” He rose, rubbing the stubble on his jaw. “Ah, I’ll just use the bathroom, then make us some breakfast. How are you feeling today?”

She smiled. “You know, I feel much steadier. A good night’s sleep is excellent medicine.”

He nodded, then strode out.

The way those jeans hugged his ass…

She bit her lip. A good night’s sleep in Camden Morgan’s arms was the perfect medicine for her.

She wandered over to the fancy sound system and fiddled with the controls. Music poured out of the speakers.

Instantly, she smiled. She rocked her hips, her worries falling away. The music moved through her, and she lifted her arms above her head.

She spun, lifted her leg, then danced. For those precious moments, nothing existed but pure joy.

She twirled, and saw Cam watching her from the doorway.

“Oh.” She stumbled to a stop and pressed a hand to her chest. “Sorry. The music started and I—” She waved a hand.

“Lost yourself?”

She nodded. He was watching her like a hawk. His gaze dropped to her bare legs before it jerked back up.

The heat she saw in his eyes turned her legs to cooked spaghetti. Her fingers curled, her nails biting into her palms. He wanted her. She’d sensed it from the moment they’d met, but sometimes she wondered if he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Saskia didn’t believe in love at first sight. Love—true love—took time.

But she believed in potential at first sight.

And the more she learned about this tough, scarred man, the more she’d liked. He wasn’t selfish, worried about wearing the latest fashions, or getting his picture taken at the hottest new club.

He was real, solid, true. He was strength and integrity.

He stepped around her. “I’ll start breakfast. Scrambled eggs all right?”

She watched him, that controlled movement of his powerful body. He seemed to have no trouble ignoring the attraction. She sighed. Maybe what she felt was stronger.

“Saskia?”

She looked up. He was watching her from the kitchen island.

She pinned on a bright smile. “I love scrambled eggs.” She headed his way. “What can I do to help?”

“You can be in charge of the toast.”

“That’s probably a good idea. I’m not much of a chef. I eat very light and healthy when I’m dancing. Yogurt is my staple.”

“Are you cold?” His gaze was on her legs again. “I can probably find a robe.”

She frowned. “No, I’m not cold. And you don’t strike me as a robe-owning kind of man.”

His lips quirked. “I have one. A gift from my mother. I have a whole cupboard full of things she’s given me that I’ve never used.”

“I’m fine.” There was something about a man who didn’t want to upset his mother and kept gifts he wasn’t interested in.

Saskia set to work getting the bread from the bread box and putting some in the toaster. Cam started pulling ingredients out of the fridge.

“I’ll need to call my director today,” she said. “And buy some new clothes.”

“Don’t overdo it. Take your time to recover.”

She bit her lip. The terrifying memories tried to crowd her head, but she pushed them away. “I’ll call Addie, too. See how she’s doing. God, those poor women.”

“They’re safe now.”

She nodded. “Thanks to you. You’re my hero. If you hadn’t realized something was wrong…”

The music changed to a fast pop song and she danced across to the fridge. When she turned with the juice, Cam was staring at her.

Everything else disappeared, narrowing to just the two of them.

“I’m not a hero,” he said.

“You are to me. I know you saw some terrible things—” she hesitated, setting the juice down “—and probably did some terrible things. I’m grateful for that. You fought so I never have to face that. You sacrificed so I never have to, and I can never thank you enough.”

Emotion crossed his rugged face. “I don’t want thanks.”

She tossed her head back. “I know, but you’re getting it anyway. And extra thanks for coming after me.” She closed the distance between them and pressed a hand to his T-shirt. “I will only ever see the hero, even if he’s a little battered and dinged.”

He made a sound, a low, muted roar. He dropped the wooden spoon he was holding, and his arms clamped around her waist.

Saskia’s pulse went crazy. Their bodies collided.

He cupped the back of her head, his mouth taking hers.

Oh. God.

He tasted like minty toothpaste and man. She opened her lips and his tongue slid in.

The kiss went wild, needy. Desire—hot and burning—exploded in her belly.

She moaned, sliding her hands across his short hair. Cam made a sound that arrowed right between her legs. If she’d been wearing panties, they’d be drenched.

His arm moved lower, cupping her ass and he lifted her.

Her heart thumped. He lifted her so easily, like she weighed nothing. Her thighs touched cool stone as he set her on the counter, his mouth never leaving hers.

The kiss deepened and she pulled him closer, between her spread legs. There was nothing sweet or nice or lovely about this kiss.

It was hot, sexy, wild, and she needed more.

His hand slid up her thigh. She shivered. She felt the intoxicating scrape of his calluses. His hands were not soft or pampered. His strong fingers brushed the skin of her inner thighs and she gasped.

“Fuck, you’re naked.” His tone was gritty.

“I…had to handwash my panties.”

He growled. “You’re so damn beautiful.” His fingers brushed her folds, and she jerked. He stroked her.

Oh, God. It felt so good. Saskia couldn’t think, she was just a ball of pure feeling. She kissed him harder, writhing. She sucked on his tongue.

He slid his finger inside her, then his thumb found her clit.

She gripped his biceps, grinding against his hand.

“Don’t stop,” she panted against his lips.

Another finger stretched her, and he circled her clit. Saskia detonated.

As she cried out, shuddering through her orgasm, she held on to him.

Her shelter. Her safety.

“Christ.” He kissed her again. “Gorgeous.”

Panting, she reached for the waistband of his jeans.

He grabbed her wrist. “Saskia.”

His tone made her look up, and all the pleasant sensations fled.

Oh, no. His face was tight, conflicted. He stepped back and she closed her legs, suddenly feeling cold.

“Cam…”

“I’m an asshole.”

“No, you’re not,” she said.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” He looked at the floor, his chest heaving.

“I wanted that.”

He raised his head. “I can’t give you what you deserve. I wish I could, more than anything, but I don’t have it in me.”

She bit her lip, pain flowing through her. His face… So much pain.

So desperately, she wanted to argue with him. To ask him to fight for them. But she realized that she was making it worse for him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice tortured.

She clasped her hands together. “You told me from the beginning you…weren’t in the right place for a relationship.” But she’d pushed, hoped.

But it wasn’t going to happen.

God, all they’d shared was one hot kiss and talked on the phone, yet this felt like a blow. It was worse than her last breakup.

“You’re amazing, Saskia. You’re warm, beautiful, talented, a good friend.”

Ugh. This felt even worse.

“I’m sorry if this—” he lifted a hand between them “—made you think I could.”

He was a good man, and he was trying his best not to hurt her.

He didn’t need to know that she was shattering inside.

She jumped off the counter. “You’re a good guy, Cam.” She tried for a smile. “I’m so grateful to you for finding me, taking care of me.”

He pressed a hand to the back of his neck. “I wish I’d met you before I was in the military. Before…”

“You’re still my hero.”

His face twisted. “I’m not.”

“You are, but I get that you can’t see it. I see the man too, you know. He’s just as fascinating as the badass.” She closed the gap between them and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “I hope you find what you need. What makes you happy.”

Even if that wasn’t her.

He just stared at her, his eyes turbulent. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. I’m going to shower.” She backed up, keeping her smile in place, although she was cracking inside. “Then I’ll call Savannah.”

CAM STALKED into his office at Norcross and dropped a file on his desk.

He had shit to do. They always had plenty of jobs at Norcross Security. He blew out a breath and shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants. He was finding it hard to concentrate.

You’re my hero, Cam.

I’m not.

You are, but I get that you can’t see it. I see the man too, you know. He’s just as fascinating as the badass.

Was she okay? She’d been subdued when Savannah had picked her up from his place. He’d walked her downstairs and put her in the car.

Goodbye, Camden.

Her tone had been so damn final.

She was taking a day or two to regroup before she flew back to New York.

New York. On the other side of the fucking country.

He’d done the right thing. For her. He had to keep reminding himself of that. She deserved a man who could give her everything.

It wasn’t him.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. As much as he wished differently, it wasn’t him.

So why the hell did it hurt so much? He stared at his desk, trying to get a lock on things.

“You okay?” a deep voice asked.

He turned. Rome Nash was standing in the doorway. The big bodyguard was watching him carefully.

Cam blew out a breath. “I’m still pissed that Mikhailov is in the wind.” He’d be a lot happier knowing the Russian was in jail. He had to be long gone, but still.

“Heard the feds are raiding all of his properties across the country,” Rome said.

Cam nodded. “Asshole probably jumped on a private jet, and is sunning himself in Mexico, or Tahiti, or Bora-Bora.”

Rome lifted his chin. “How’s your ballerina?”

“She’s not mine.”

The man raised a dark brow. “She know that?”

“I told her.” Cam choked down his frustration. Really, he barely knew Saskia. It shouldn’t hurt this damn much to lose the promise of her. “I…can’t offer her what she needs.”

Rome’s green gaze was like a laser. “You sure about that?”

“I’m sure,” Cam clipped out.

Rome lifted one broad shoulder. “Seemed to me you were giving her what she needed.” With a nod, he headed back down the hall to his office.

Cam stood there for a long moment, staring out the glass walls into the warehouse. A second later, another familiar face appeared.

“Hey,” his brother Ryder said. He wasn’t wearing his paramedic uniform, so it probably meant he’d had a shift at the free clinic in the Tenderloin where he donated his time. His brown hair was almost long enough to brush his broad shoulders.

“Hey,” Cam replied.

“How’s Saskia?”

“She was fine this morning. She’s with Savannah now.”

Ryder cocked his head. “But she’s staying with you?”

“Not now. She’ll stay with Hunt and Savannah before she goes back to New York.”

Ryder shook his head. “You idiot.”

Cam scowled at his brother. “Don’t start, Ryder.”

“She’s into you. She just had the worst day of her life, and she wanted you.”

“I got her out,” Cam said between clenched teeth.

“She needed more than that.”

“I know that, Ryder. That’s why I made her leave.”

His brother shook his head. “You shortchange yourself.”

Anger burned in his gut. It had been simmering since he’d watched Saskia get in Savannah’s car. “Look, you, Hunt, the others, I get that you’re all in love. You’ve got gorgeous women, you’ve got your life all sorted out—” He cursed and looked away. “You’ve been home longer than me…and I’m not sure I’ll ever have it all together.” Not enough to give a woman like Saskia everything she needed.

Ryder was quiet, then he sighed. “I love you, bro. I’m here for you. I still think you’re shortchanging yourself, and you’re making a mistake with Saskia, but I get it.”

Cam gave him a tight nod.

“You have the number of that therapist?” Ryder asked.

Cam stiffened. “Yeah.” He hadn’t seen the guy. Dredging things up, talking about Kris, dissecting his dead teammate like he was a problem to get over left a bad taste in Cam’s mouth.

“He’s good, Cam. We all saw him when we got back. He’s former military, he understands.” Ryder clasped Cam’s arm. “You’re worth sorting your shit out. And is she worth it?” With a pat, Ryder headed out. “Now, I’m going to see my woman.” He raised his voice. “Where’s my gorgeous Norwegian flower?”

Cam shook his head. Ryder was lucky that Siv didn’t deck him.

Cam turned Ryder’s words over in his head. Maybe he should think about seeing the therapist. At least try it.

He headed down the hall to Vander’s office and knocked. His boss was standing at his desk, on the phone. He held up a finger to Cam.

“Okay, you find out anything else, call me. Yeah.” Vander ended the call.

“Any intel on Mikhailov?”

Vander circled the desk and leaned back against it. “No. We haven’t got any confirmation that he’s left San Francisco or the country, but frankly, we have shit.”

“He wouldn’t risk staying in the city.”

“You wouldn’t think so. The guy likes his wealthy lifestyle, and the feds are tearing his US assets apart. But he’d still have access to some money, and that makes him harder to find.”

It was good that the asshole wouldn’t have access to all his assets. That gave Cam a sense of some satisfaction. Still, it was little comfort to the women Mikhailov had kept prisoner.

“Hunt said some of the guards from the estate are talking,” Vander continued. “There have been other women over the past year. Some sent overseas, and others who’ve disappeared once they…fell out of favor.” Vander’s tone vibrated with rage.

Cam’s mouth tightened. “Mikhailov is an asshole of epic proportions.”

“Yeah.”

“Guys.” Saxon appeared. He was wearing a suit and coat, his gold hair windblown. “I’ve got something.”

Vander straightened. “Go on.”

“An informant saw Mikhailov and two of his top guards. One’s Russian, the other is American. A former Army dropout who was dishonorably discharged.”

“Where were they seen?” Cam asked.

Saxon’s gaze met his. “Here. In the city. He hasn’t left San Francisco.”

Vander sucked in a breath.

Cam felt his senses sharpen. “He still wants Saskia.”

“We don’t know that,” Vander said.

“He’s got some sick obsession with her.” Cam’s gut tightened. He had a bad feeling about this.

“I have our network of informants searching for him,” Saxon said.

“Where exactly was he seen?” Vander asked.

“Nob Hill. Going to see a broker who can dispose of high-end goods.”

“Trying to drum up some untraceable cash.” Vander’s gaze turned considering. “He doesn’t have access to all his accounts, and he’s smart enough to know we’d be monitoring them.”

“He’ll have hidden accounts offshore,” Cam said. “These rats always do.”

“I want him found,” Vander said.

“It’s likely he’s getting money so he can leave the city and the country,” Saxon said.

Cam hoped so. He’d like Mikhailov dead or in jail, but he’d take the bastard being far, far away from Saskia.

Cam wanted her safe. A knot formed in his chest. She wasn’t his to protect.

She was better off without him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Here you go.”

Saskia managed a smile for her best friend and took the coffee from Savannah. “Thanks.”

She tucked her legs up under her on Savannah’s couch, then turned to look out the large window. Savannah and Hunt’s townhouse was south of the city on the Bay. She saw several cargo ships sitting out on the water. Overhead, the sky was cloudy.

It matched how she felt inside. She sipped the coffee, trying to shake off her mood.

Her heart felt like a massive bruise. She sipped again, trying to ignore it.

She wasn’t going to think about Cam.

“Thanks for coming to get me. And letting me stay.”

“Any time.” Savannah dropped down beside her and slid one arm around Saskia.

Saskia leaned in. Savannah smelled like paint. She’d missed her friend so much while Savannah had been on the run from her stalker. Savannah had always been on the move, never staying anywhere long, unable to contact Saskia or her family. Saskia had worried about her constantly.

Then Savannah had moved in next door to Detective Hunter Morgan and he’d changed everything. Savannah’s stalker was gone, and she was free to show her art. And so in love with Hunt.

“I missed you, Savannah.”

“I missed you too, Sass.”

Saskia’s gaze shifted to the painting on the wall.

It was done in Savannah’s signature style, with dabs of paint that gave it an impressionist, dreamy look. The man wore a business shirt and tie. The woman was naked. She was arched back, her pale blonde hair like a waterfall, while her lover held her thigh pressed tight to his hip as he arched over her.

It was filled with so much passion. It was obvious that the couple was Hunt and Savannah. In a painting or real life, the way the oldest Morgan brother looked at Savannah was breathtaking.

“You spoke with your dance director?” Savannah asked.

Saskia nodded. She’d called him when she’d first arrived at Savannah’s. “Anthony’s given me a few days off. He’s one of the best directors I’ve ever worked with, and he actually cares about his dancers. He’ll hold my spot. I’ll do my stretching and keep up my conditioning, and then dive back into training when I get back to New York.”

But she wondered where the usual spark of excitement was. She felt as gloomy as the sky outside.

Savannah touched Saskia’s arm. “Do you want to talk about what happened with Cam?”

Saskia’s stomach twisted. “I was hurting him,” she said quietly.

Savannah cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“He warned me that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He’s still settling into his new life. Getting over things from before. He’s…been through a lot. It scarred him.”

“I know that. But I think he needs love, affection, to truly heal.”

“I’d hoped that too.” Saskia sighed. “I’m really attracted to him. I want to talk to him, be with him, taste him, feel his skin on mine. I want to sleep beside him, wake up with him, cook with him.”

“Oh, Saskia.” Savannah’s face turned stricken.

“He makes me feel special, Savannah, beautiful, and it has nothing to do with my dancing. He makes me feel safe. I know, if he gave me the chance, I could fall totally in love with him.”

“That’s not just attraction. That’s deep, Saskia. You have to tell him how you feel.”

She shook her head. “No. I pushed as much as I could. He said he couldn’t do it. And I could see it was hurting him.” She sighed. “You can’t make a man want you, Savannah. He’s put up a wall and I have to stay on my side of it.”

Savannah grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“Besides, I want what you have.” Her gaze drifted to the painting on the wall. “A man who wants me so badly, he’ll fight anything to get to me.” And that made Saskia’s heart hurt all over again.

“Camden Morgan is crazy about you, Saskia,” Savannah said in a fierce tone. “He’s just fighting himself and letting his demons win.”

“Just let it go, okay?”

Savannah sighed. “All right. I’m going to do some painting in my studio.”

Saskia knew that Hunt had converted a room on the top floor for Savannah. “Go.” She shooed her friend. “I don’t need you to entertain me. I’ll do some stretching.”

Savannah tucked a blonde curl back behind her ear. “So, we have a thing planned for tonight. With the gang. Gia’s organized it. It’s some event for Firelight, her PR company. Everybody’s invited.” Savannah paused. “Including Cam. He doesn’t always show—”

“It’s fine, Savannah. I’m not going to avoid him. And I think going out will be good.” Her nerves tingled. She wasn’t going to let her abduction, or her sore heart, make her miss out on things. “It’ll be fine.”

Savannah didn’t look one hundred percent convinced. “Okay, if you’re sure. And cocktails can solve a lot of problems.” Her friend smiled. “Temporarily, at least. Want to go shopping this afternoon? You need some clothes.”

Saskia lifted a shoulder. “Maybe tomorrow?” She wasn’t in the mood for shopping.

“Sure thing. You can borrow a dress of mine for drinks tonight.”

“Love you,” Saskia said.

Savannah leaned down and hugged her. “Love you back. You’re going to be all right.”

“I know.” Eventually. She’d get over this gnawing need for Camden Morgan.

Her new cell phone dinged and she picked it up. “It’s a message from Wolf. Killian still hasn’t checked in.” Saskia fiddled with the phone and tried not to worry about her brother. “He’s going to be so mad all this happened and he wasn’t here.”

“When he gets back, he’ll make sure Mikhailov pays. I have no doubt he’ll hunt the asshole down. I don’t ever want to be on your brother’s bad side.”

“He wasn’t there when our mom died. He still feels guilty about that.” Saskia had been eighteen and all alone.

“I know.” Savannah entwined their hands. “But you’re not a teenager anymore. You have friends, people who care about you. That includes the gang here…and Cam, despite whatever is going on with you two.”

Saskia gave her friend a sad smile. She didn’t want to think about Cam, or she’d have to accept that there was nothing going on between them, and never would be.

AS SASKIA WALKED into Gia’s party, she pasted on a smile.

The place looked amazing. Gia’s party was being held at a rooftop bar at the Marriott Marquis Hotel. It was incredible. The View Lounge had a huge, arched, Art Deco inspired window that gave an extraordinary view of the city.

She tugged on the hem of the red dress she’d borrowed from Savannah. She was a few inches taller than Savannah, so it was a little short on her. It was a blood-red wrap dress with long sleeves. She’d left her hair loose, falling down to the middle of her back.

She glanced around the crowd. There was no sign of Cam. Her heart thumped. She was both disappointed and relieved.

Hunt pressed a hand to both her and Savannah’s lower backs, ushering them inside. He looked incredibly handsome in his suit.

When he’d returned home today, he’d told her that Mikhailov had been seen in San Francisco. Her belly lurched. She’d really hoped the man was far away.

Still, Hunt had made it sound like Mikhailov was pawning stuff to get money. Surely that meant he was planning to run.

“Welcome.” Gia Norcross hustled over. The tiny, curvy brunette was clad in a V-necked black dress that showed off her cleavage and had a gold Dolce and Gabbana logo at the bottom of the plunging neckline. Diamonds dangled from her ears. “Ladies, you both need the special cocktail I invented just for the party.”

Saxon, looking stylish in his blue suit, strolled up behind Gia. “I’m calling it the Contessa. Because it packs a punch like my Contessa.” He dropped a kiss to his fiancée’s mouth.

Gia gripped the front of his jacket and kissed him back, and clearly forgot her hostess duties for a second. From the look of the kiss, Saskia didn’t blame her.

Soon, Saskia found herself in a huddle with Gia, Savannah, Rhys’ fiancée Haven, Harlow, and Princess Sofia of Caldova. Sofie was engaged to big, hot Rome Nash. Thankfully, she was exactly like her sweet, beautiful persona in the media, and it was clear she had Rome wrapped around her finger.

Brynn was stuck at work and wasn’t there, and Ryder had whisked Siv away. Close by, the rest of the Norcross men were drinking their beers and talking. Although Cam still hadn’t made an appearance.

Her gaze shifted to Ryder and Siv, flirting at the bar. They were nice to watch. They’d just recently fallen in love and their connection shone bright and clear. Saskia liked the handsome, charming medic, and tough Siv seemed like a perfect match for him.

“I’m so glad you’re all right, Saskia.” Sofie touched a hand to her arm. “It was just horrible what happened to you.”

“Thank you,” Saskia said.

“I had an unfortunate run-in with the Russian mafia.” Haven shuddered. “Not an experience I want to repeat.”

“I’m grateful to Vander and the others for getting me out,” Saskia said.

“Once again, the Norcross Security men come to the rescue,” Gia said. “And woman. Siv’s part of the team now too.”

“If my brother had been here, I’m sure he would’ve found me, but he’s out of the country.” Saskia cocked her head, swirling her nearly empty glass. “Which is probably lucky. He would’ve…made a big mess.”

The conversation shifted, and as the women kept talking, Saskia felt a tingle on the back of her neck. She turned and saw Cam.

Her mouth went dry. He wasn’t smiling, and he looked so good in his dark gray suit. As he walked into the lounge, she saw women notice him.

His gaze met hers.

She locked her knees. Just be polite. You can get through this. She didn’t need to make this harder for him. These were his friends and family.

Besides, she’d be gone in a couple of days. She nodded at him, then turned away.

But despite her internal pep talk, her chest was tight. She needed some space.

“Who needs another Contessa?” she asked, holding up her glass.

She got three yeses and made a beeline for the bar. She found an empty space, leaned against the smooth surface, and breathed.

Being around Cam would hurt less…eventually.

CAM STARED at Saskia’s back. He let his gaze run over her in that maddening red dress. It wasn’t tight, but kind of draped over her slender body. It left a lot of sleek leg bare.

“Here, looks like you need this.” Hunt shoved a beer into Cam’s hand.

His fingers curled on the cool glass. Saskia was standing at the bar, her hair loose, black against the red. A stunning combination.

He couldn’t get her out of his damn mind. In the office today, he’d alternated between being worried about the fact Mikhailov was still in the area, and tormented by thoughts of Saskia.

You did the right thing, asshole.

He had to forcibly loosen his fingers before he broke the beer bottle.

“For a man who says he doesn’t want a woman, you’re looking at Saskia like you want to devour her,” Hunt said. “Or drag her back to your cave and not let her go.”

Cam dragged his gaze off Saskia and met Hunt’s serious green eyes.

“I want her more than anything. She’s gorgeous, sweet, talented.” He shook his head. “That isn’t the problem.”

Hunt’s brow creased. “Cam—”

“Please. I…can’t talk about it.” He was just going to have one beer and go.

His brother sighed and nodded. “I’m here for you.”

He gave him a tight nod. “I know.”

Cam made himself say hi to Gia. He saw Savannah watching him steadily, and wondered what Saskia had told her.

Saskia still hadn’t returned, and he couldn’t help looking for her. She was still at the bar. His body locked. She wasn’t alone. A square-jawed business type in a sharp suit and over-styled hair was talking to her.

She smiled at the man, talking back.

The guy laughed and couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Cam was moving before he could think. He stepped up behind her and pressed his front to her back. It reminded him of how well she fit against him.

She stiffened, her fingers clenching on the bar.

“How are those drinks going? The ladies are thirsty.” He sent the man a hard look.

The guy’s flirty smile vanished. “Have a nice night.” He disappeared back into the crowd.

“I didn’t need a rescue.” Saskia didn’t look up at him.

Cam looked down at her silky hair. She was wearing a perfume that tickled his senses. It wasn’t her usual scent—he had that memorized. She must have borrowed something from Savannah, but there was pure Saskia in the undertone.

He leaned down, pressed his face to her hair, and breathed her in. He slid an arm around her, spreading his palm over her belly.

She made a sound and leaned into him.

God, he wanted her so badly.

“Cam, why are you doing this?” she whispered shakily.

He nuzzled the side of her neck. “Because I can’t stay away.”

Her chest hitched and she gripped his forearm. She shifted against him, rubbing her ass against his hardening cock.

Then she made a choked sound. “This…isn’t fair. It’s not fair to either of us.”

Fuck. He went still. She was right. He’d sent her away, told himself to keep clear, and here he was, touching her, scaring off a guy flirting with her.

His fingers flexed on her flat belly, then he pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t look at him. “I know.” Her voice was husky. Her fingers dug into his arm, then dropped away.

He stayed there for a second, pressed against her, absorbing her. The air between them felt charged.

It hurt to step back.

He didn’t say anything. He just turned and strode out of the party. He didn’t say goodbye to anyone.

He hadn’t cooled off by the time he leaped into the X6. He drove back to his apartment on autopilot.

When he slammed into his place, he didn’t turn on the lights. The city lights filtered in through the windows, dancing on the ceiling.

He kicked off his shoes and stripped off his jacket angrily. His skin was tight, hot. His gut was in knots.

He smelled her. His hands flexed. He could feel her under his fingers.

Desire for Saskia gnawed at him.

In the kitchen, he yanked open a cupboard. He pulled out a bottle of Old Forester 1920 bourbon. Kris had loved the stuff. Cam poured a shot and knocked it back. Then he poured another.

He turned. He’d kissed Saskia, right here, while she sat on the bench.

Since he’d woken up after the blast, he’d been dead inside. Hadn’t been attracted to any woman. Had felt cold inside.

Until he’d seen her.

Now, he was alive, hungry, and he only wanted her.

He closed his eyes and saw her there. Pussy bare under his T-shirt, body writhing, saying his name as he’d stroked her.

Fuck. His cock felt as hard as pure steel.

He was on fire, burning up. All from thinking about Saskia. Saskia in that red dress, here on his kitchen counter, him with his fingers on her sweet clit.

With a muttered oath, he opened his trousers and shoved his boxers down. He freed his aching cock.

Cam wrapped a hand around himself, then tugged. He tugged again, stroking hard.

He imagined her here. Her naked body his for the taking, brown eyes watching him with need and heat, making him feel like he was worth a damn.

He stroked harder, his cock swelling. He wanted to be plowing inside her, hearing her cries, spilling inside her tight warmth.

“Fuck me.” On another hard tug, he came. His body bowed under the force of his release. He groaned her name as he spilled all over his hand and the floor.

He shuddered, and gripped the counter, his lungs heaving.

His hot skin cooled. There was no Saskia.

He was alone in his empty apartment.

It was how it had to be. His chin dropped to his chest. However much he wished things were different, Saskia was better off without him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“You are in a foul mood,” Rhys said.

Cam looked up from scowling at his laptop. “I’m just sitting here, quietly, doing my work.”

“You’re brooding.”

Cam just scowled harder.

“You left the party early last night.”

“Rhys, did you have a reason for coming in here?”

“Yeah. Vander sent me a case. Some corporate espionage. Thought you might want to help me with it.”

Dragging in a breath, Cam nodded. “Sure thing.”

“Oh, and Vander said there haven’t been any more sightings of Mikhailov this morning,” Rhys added.

Cam sat back in his chair. “Good.”

“And he’s talked with Wolf. The Sentinel Security team is making sure Mikhailov doesn’t pop up in New York. For when Saskia gets back.”

At the mention of Saskia returning to New York, tension filled Cam. He tried to unlock the muscles in his jaw. “They’ll keep her safe.”

Rhys studied him. “You’re crap at hiding how you feel about her.”

Cam stayed silent.

The other man threw up a hand. “Fine. You want to fuck up your life, go ahead.”

Cam’s cell phone rang. He yanked it from his pocket and frowned. “It’s Savannah.” He touched the screen. “Savannah—”

“Cam, I can’t reach Hunt. He had to testify in court today.” Her voice was out of breath, afraid. “Saskia and I are shopping.”

Cam’s hand tightened on the phone. “Are you all right? Where are you?”

“Union Square. Cam, we’re being followed.”

He shot to his feet. “Stay in the open, Savannah. I’m on my way.” He looked at Rhys. “Savannah and Saskia think they’re being followed.”

Rhys’ face sharpened. “Let’s go.”

CLUTCHING HER SHOPPING BAGS, Saskia hurried down the sidewalk with Savannah.

She glanced back over her shoulder. There was no sign of the guy she’d spotted earlier.

He was a bulky goon in a suit. She was certain it was one of the guards from Mikhailov’s Napa estate.

A cold wind hit her. The sky was like a gray ceiling above them, threatening rain. Thankfully, Savannah knew her well and had bought Saskia new jeans in her size, cute brown boots, a white sweater, and a navy blazer. She’d left them out for Saskia to wear today. Added to that was a soft gray scarf. She had to admit that wearing some nice clothes made her feel a little bit brighter. And shopping for more clothes helped too.

It didn’t fix her cracked heart, but it helped.

She shoved thoughts of Cam away.

They’d hit Saks and Macy’s, then Saskia had spotted the guy in the suit. He’d been watching them.

She and Savannah crossed the street to Union Square.

“Maybe I imagined it. Maybe it’s just some poor San Francisco businessman, and my overworked brain saw a Russian goon,” she said.

Savannah grabbed her arm. “We’re not taking any chances. I called Cam. He’s coming. He said to stay in the open, around other people.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Saskia hugged her friend.

“Oh, Saskia, I’m always here for you.” Her friend hugged her back. “I’m so sorry for what you went through.”

“I escaped before anyone hurt me. I’m lucky.” Saskia scanned around. She didn’t see the guy she thought was following them. She prayed it was just her imagination.

Her gaze shifted to the column in the center of the square. Cam was on the way.

God, last night at the bar. The way he’d touched her. She shivered. She’d felt how much he wanted her.

“You’re thinking about Cam,” Savannah said.

Saskia jerked her head up. “I’m that obvious?”

“Just to me. He’s coming to get us. Maybe you should talk—?”

Saskia shook her head. “I told you, I’m not forcing myself on him.”

“He watched you the entire time at the party last night.”

Her heart squeezed. “Savannah—”

Her friend’s nose twisted. “Okay. I’ll just get him to drop us home.”

“I’m sure this is all nothing. Mikhailov is long gone. I just imagine bogeymen at every corner.”

“Believe me, after everything you’ve been through, and from my own experience, it pays to be safe and not sorry.”

Saskia nodded and gripped her bags tighter. Despite the cold, gray weather, there were a few people out. Saskia saw a man in a suit walking with a small blonde, his arm snug around her. She beamed up at him.

Saskia looked away. Damn people in love. It was like the universe was rubbing her face in it.

Then her gaze collided with a man in a rumpled, ill-fitting suit. He had a craggy face and heavy brow.

Oh, God. It was the guard from Napa.

“Savannah, we have to go.” She slid her arm through her friend’s, dragging Savannah in the opposite direction.

“What? But we—”

“Move.” Saskia looked back and saw the man break into a run. “Run!”

Savannah saw the man now, as well. They broke into a sprint, dropping their shopping bags. People stumbled out of their way.

Ahead, at the end of the square, was the historic façade of the Westin Hotel.

They needed to get inside. They darted across the street. Cars screeched and a horn honked.

“Inside,” Saskia panted.

Then she collided with a man in a delivery uniform. She was knocked back and landed on her butt on the sidewalk.

“Hey, lady, you okay?” the worried deliveryman asked.

“Saskia,” Savannah cried.

The goon powered across the street, his gaze locked on them.

“Get inside, Savannah,” Saskia yelled.

“No.” Her friend’s face hardened. She grabbed Saskia’s hand. “I’m not leaving you.”

Savannah hauled her up. The guard was striding down the sidewalk, dodging people.

A taxi disgorged a family with bags, blocking him.

Savannah and Saskia charged into the Westin. The lobby was all stately grandeur and oozed historic charm. There was a table in the center laden with fresh flowers. Overhead, circular chandeliers hung along with a huge old-world clock.

They raced across the polished floor, their heels tapping.

Chest heaving, Saskia scanned around. They needed to find somewhere safe to hide.

A hand grabbed the back of her jacket and yanked. Saskia stumbled, felt pain tear through her bad knee. She pulled herself free and spun.

“You come with me,” the man growled in his heavy accent.

“Hell, no! We have help on the way. You’d better go.”

“No, Mr. Mikhailov wants you.”

Anger was like a volcano. “Mikhailov is a scumbag rapist. He should be in a jail cell.”

The man’s face hardened. He shifted his jacket to show the holstered gun at his hip.

“Come now, no one gets hurt.” His gaze did a quick scan of the other people in the lobby.

Saskia’s heart did a hard thump. She looked into his eyes and realized that he’d do it. And he’d have no trouble doing it.

Suddenly, Savannah rushed in with an umbrella in her hand. Saskia had no idea where she’d found it. With a grunt, she smacked the guy in the head.

The man made a low, enraged sound and swung out and hit Savannah.

Saskia’s friend stumbled back and fell, hitting the floor on her side.

“Savannah!”

Her friend sat up, cradling her arm, pain on her face.

From nearby, people started shouting.

“Someone get security!” a woman yelled.

The guard’s face hardened, and he stepped toward Saskia.

“Run, Saskia!” Savannah cried.

Hell, no. Saskia snatched a vase of flowers off the table and threw it at the guy. It bounced off him and smashed. She grabbed another one and aimed at his head.

Suddenly, he was on her, water dripping down his ugly face.

His backhand made her ears ring. While she was dazed, he grabbed her arms and spun her. He wrenched her arms behind her back and started marching her toward the front door.

No, dammit.

Then the goon dragged her back outside.

THE X6 SPED down the street. Cam spotted Union Square ahead.

His jaw locked. If anything had happened to Saskia or Savannah…

“You got a grip on it?” Vander asked from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah.”

“Pretty sure that’s a lie,” Rhys drawled from the back seat.

Vander’s brother looked like a bad-boy movie star, or rock singer, but Cam knew Rhys was a former Ghost Ops soldier and had skills. He was Vander’s best investigator.

“I told them to wait in the main plaza.” Cam scanned out the window.

His cell phone rang. “Savannah?”

“Oh God, oh God.”

His pulse jumped. “Slow down, Savannah. Take a breath.”

“A guy attacked us. He had an accent. He took Saskia.”

“Fuck. Okay. Where are you, Savannah?”

“The lobby of the Westin at the end of Union Square.”

Cam’s gaze shifted and locked on the hotel.

“The guy pushed me down, and dragged Saskia out.”

“You all right?”

“I hurt my arm, but I’m fine. Find Saskia. Please.”

“I’ll find her. Stay in the hotel lobby until one of us comes to get you.”

“All right, Cam.” Her voice hitched. “Find her.”

Cam shoved the phone away. “Savannah’s in the Westin. A guy took Saskia.”

His focus narrowed. He slowed his breathing, scanning Union Square. Then he spotted a big man in a suit dragging a fighting woman behind him.

“There! In the square.”

Vander yanked the wheel. They jumped the curb and screeched to a stop on the sidewalk.

Cam and Rhys shot out of the SUV before it fully stopped.

Cam broke into a run.

The man saw him coming and yanked Saskia in front of him like a shield. She had a large, red palm print on her cheek.

The fucker was dead. Cam pulled his Glock and got closer. “Duck.”

Saskia dropped fast, without the tiniest hesitation.

But he couldn’t risk hitting her. Instead, he lunged in and hammered the butt of the handgun into the man’s face.

Once, twice.

The guy’s grip on Saskia loosened and Cam pulled her free. He grabbed her and swung her toward Rhys.

His gaze narrowed on the guard.

One of Mikhailov’s goons. Trying to take Saskia again. His fury was a cold, angry thing.

He holstered his weapon, then he attacked. A hard punch, then Cam spun. He rammed his elbow to the man’s face, and the guy let out a pained grunt.

Cam spun again and kicked him. Methodically, he kept hitting and punching. The man went down on one knee and Cam kneed him in the face.

There was a crunch as his nose broke.

“You won’t ever touch her again,” Cam said. “She doesn’t exist for you.” He grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and punched him again and again.

The guy sagged, but Cam kept hitting.

“Cam. Cam, enough.” Vander shouldered in.

Cam dropped the guy, his chest heaving. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a lock on it.”

Vander eyed him carefully. “See to Saskia. Rhys, find Savannah.”

Saskia stood nearby, pale, a little shellshocked. Her gaze dropped to the guard, then back to Cam.

He stiffened. This was it. He’d let loose some of the darkness inside him. She’d look at him with horror now.

Her dark gaze met his.

Then she walked toward him.

“Don’t touch me,” he said.

She paused just inches away. “Why?” Her bottom lip trembled. “If you really don’t want me around you, then go.”

Not want her around? He frowned. “I just pummeled that guy.” He flexed his hands and saw the blood on them.

Her face changed. “You think this—” she waved at the downed guard “—changes how I look at you?” She shook her head. “Cam, you just saved me. Again. He was dragging me off to Mikhailov. He threatened to shoot people. He assaulted Savannah. You and he are nothing alike.” She lifted her chin. “I was nineteen when I saw my brother kill a man. It was a foreign assassin who was after him. We were out for lunch, and I thought my brother was an analyst at a bank. The assassin would’ve killed me, too, but Killian strangled him with a napkin. I’m well-aware that to fight for your country, to protect the innocent, requires its soldiers, its protectors, to wade into some gray and uneasy areas.” Her eyes fired. “So don’t stand there and expect me to condemn or judge you.”

Fuck, she was something. Magnificent. Cam felt his walls crumbling.

He just couldn’t keep fighting what he felt for Saskia Hawke.

She was in danger, and he could keep her safe.

He would keep her safe. No matter what.

He reached for her and yanked her to his chest.

After a beat, her arms wrapped around him, her cheek to his chest.

He rested his chin on top of her head. He looked up and met Vander’s gaze. Vander had the guard zip tied.

“Saskia!”

They pulled apart. Rhys was leading Savannah over. The artist was clutching her left arm to her chest.

“Looks like her wrist is broken,” Rhys said. “I’ll take her to the hospital and call Hunt.”

“What?” Saskia breathed. “Your arm is broken?”

“It’s okay.” Savannah hugged her. “It just really hurts. I landed badly.”

“That asshole.” Saskia whirled and kicked the guy with her boot.

The guard grunted.

She kicked him again.

“Okay.” Cam pulled her away. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it.”

“So you get to go to town on him, but I don’t? That’s not fair.”

He saw Vander shaking his head, a small smile on his face.

“Mikhailov wants her.” The guard smiled, blood on his teeth. “He wants her naked and screaming in his bed. He’s a shark. He’ll wait until the right moment, then attack.”

Saskia gasped. Cam wrapped an arm around her and glared at the guard.

“He will get her,” the guard said.

“Yeah, well, he has to go through us,” Cam said. “And we aren’t easy prey.”

Vander hauled the guy up. “Not another word, or I’ll duct tape your mouth shut.” He glanced at the others. “Rhys, call the office and get a car here, then get Savannah to the hospital. I’ll get our guest back to the office.” He jerked the guy. “We have a nice holding cell for you.” Then Vander looked at Cam. “You keep Saskia safe.”

He nodded.

“Cam—”

He cut her off and cupped her cheeks. “You’re safe now.”

She shuddered. “I know.”

“I’m not going to let Mikhailov touch you, Saskia. We’re going to the Norcross office, then you’re staying with me.”

She straightened. “You don’t want that. I’m not sure it’s a good idea—”

“You’ll be safer with me.”

Her eyes widened. “God, I can’t stay with Savannah. It’ll put her in more danger. She’s an artist, and that asshole broke her wrist.” Her expression became one of devastation.

“Like I said, you’re staying with me, sweetheart.”

Her gaze flew to his face. “Cam.”

He stroked his fingers over the smooth skin of her injured cheek. “You’re staying with me. I’ll keep you safe.” He stroked her cheek again. “And then we’ll talk.”

CHAPTER NINE

As Cam led Saskia into the Norcross Security office, she tried to ignore her throbbing face and sore knee.

She’d twisted wrong, and it was her bad knee. Worry niggled at her. A knee injury had ended the career of many a dancer. Still, it was nowhere near as bad as poor Savannah.

Rhys had called from the hospital. Savannah had a fractured wrist. Saskia’s gut clenched, and she felt sick. Her friend had been hurt because of her. Savannah was an artist, she needed her hands.

Who else would get hurt because of Saskia?

She glanced at Cam and swallowed. He’d made it clear he couldn’t be with her, and here he was, dragged back into her mess.

They headed up the stairs. At the top, lost in her thoughts, she barely took in the kickass industrial vibe of the warehouse office.

She felt too sick.

She needed to go. She knew enough to disappear and lay low. Then Killian would help her.

“Saskia? Hey.” Cam was frowning at her. He touched her cheek.

She jerked back.

His green eyes darkened, and his frown deepened.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was just…thinking.”

“About what?”

“Everything.” She turned away. She needed time to make a plan, then she’d slip away.

“Saskia.” He gripped her arm. “You’re safe now. You don’t need to worry.”

“Cam, Savannah has a broken wrist. Mikhailov isn’t going to stop, is he? It’s not safe to be around me.”

That rugged face changed. His scar stood out on his cheek. “I’m going to make him stop.”

“Cam, you don’t have to do this.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He took her hand, then dragged her past several glass-walled offices.

She saw Saxon in one, on the phone. Rome in another, sitting at the desk, staring at his computer screen.

Cam towed her into a room that contained a bunk and shelving full of medical supplies. He closed the door.

“Sit,” he ordered, opening a small fridge.

Saskia sat. All the nice, new clothes she’d bought were gone. She sighed.

Cam brought an ice pack over and pressed it to the side of her face.

“It doesn’t feel too bad,” she said quietly.

“Does anything else hurt?”

She hesitated. He’d already done so much. “It’s fine, Cam. Go. Do whatever you need to do.”

He pressed his hands either side of her hips on the bunk. He leaned close, his face right at hers. The look in his eyes made her belly clench.

“Things have changed. I’m keeping you safe, and that’s not up for negotiation.”

Her heart thumped. All she could do was nod.

For now. She was still going to go. She’d call Wolf and arrange something.

“Now, what else hurts?” Cam demanded.

“My knee. It needs ice, too.”

“Okay, boots and jeans off, sweetheart.”

God, she loved hearing the sweet endearment in that deep, gruff voice.

While he got another ice pack, she pulled her boots off and her small socks. She winced. She hated a guy seeing her feet. Ballet dancers did not have pretty feet. Hers were covered in calluses and healing blisters. She shucked her jeans off and sat on the bunk. Her knee was a little swollen, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared.

But she was going to have to face the fact soon that her bum knee was going to cause problems with her dancing. She bit her lip. One problem at a time, Saskia.

Cam came back and knelt in front of her. She felt a flush of heat in her face since she was only in panties and her sweater.

He’s seen it, Saskia.

He pressed the ice pack to her knee. She pulled in a breath at the cold, while still holding the other one to her face.

His fingers touched her skin, and she fought back a shiver.

His brow creased. “Did you hurt your feet?” He touched her ankle.

“No. Don’t look.” She tried to pull her foot away.

He gripped her ankle tightly and touched her toes.

“The downside of years of pointe shoes,” she said. “Ugly feet.”

“They’re not ugly.” He met her gaze. “They’re a sign of your strength and dedication.”

She blushed. And wished, yet again, that she could have this man.

There was a knock on the door. Cam straightened and Vander strode in.

“Doing all right, Saskia?”

She nodded, trying not to care about the fact that she was in her panties. “Thanks to you guys.” Then her gaze dropped to the department store bags in Vander’s hands. “My shopping!”

Vander dumped the bags on the floor. “I think we recovered most of it.”

“Mikhailov’s guy?” Cam asked.

“In a holding cell. We’re planning to ask him a few questions.”

“I want in on that.”

Cam’s dark tone made Saskia shiver. And worry.

“Figured you would,” Vander replied.

Cam swiveled. He touched her injured cheek. “Stay here. I’ll be back soon. If you need a drink, the kitchen is stocked.”

She nodded.

“I’ll be back,” he said again.

“Okay.” He’d be back because he saw her as an obligation. “I’ll take it easy until then.”

She watched him stride out with Vander.

Saskia let out a shuddering breath. Once the ice packs turned warm, she redressed. She wondered if Mikhailov’s goon had anything useful to share. She chewed on her lip.

She’d taken up enough of Camden’s time and energy. Killian and the Sentinel Security team could keep her safe until Mikhailov lost interest.

She decided to leave the shopping bags. She’d get them later.

She threw her scarf over her shoulder and exited the medical room. No one looked her way. The other Norcross employees were all busy at their desks.

She hurried toward the front of the building. She’d check that the street was clear, then head out, find somewhere safe where she could borrow a phone and call Sentinel.

“Saskia?”

She looked up. A couple had just entered the building. The beautiful blonde woman wore a fitted gray dress. Her hair was in an elegant twist, and there was concern on her face.

“Harlow,” Saskia said.

She’d met the woman at Savannah’s art show. A man appeared behind her.

He was handsome with a rugged, “in charge” edge. He was wearing a tailored Brioni suit. Easton Norcross was Vander’s older brother and Harlow’s fiancé.

Harlow touched Saskia’s arm. “We heard what happened. It’s so terrible. How are you holding up?”

“I’m good, thanks. Still wrapping my head around it all.”

“I can only imagine.” Harlow pulled Saskia in for a hug.

It felt nice. Harlow’s sweet perfume was comforting.

“Thanks. Are you here to see Vander? I think he’s—” she swallowed “—downstairs questioning a guy.”

“We’ll find him.” Easton nodded, watching her with sharp blue eyes that saw too much. “You’re going to be fine. No one here will let anything happen to you.”

“I know. Thanks, Easton. It’s good to see you both.”

She waited until the couple headed off, and then walked toward the front door. She willed herself to walk slowly and stay calm. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She wasn’t a prisoner and she could leave whenever she wanted.

She stared out the glass panel beside the door, scanning the street.

There were a few people on the sidewalk, cars driving past. She took her time to look for anyone who didn’t belong.

She hesitated. This was best for everyone. She pushed the door open. She’d taken two steps outside when—

“Going somewhere?”

Her head whipped around, and she looked into Cam’s very angry green eyes.

CAM TRIED to get a lock on his anger. He gripped Saskia’s arm and pulled her back inside. Her eyes were huge as she stared at him.

Once safely in the entry, he whirled to face her.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was a low roar.

She swallowed. “Easton ratted me out, didn’t he?”

“I was on my way back to find you. He said you were up here and looked cagey.” Cam cocked his head. “Do you want Mikhailov to snatch you?”

“No, of course not—”

“Then explain this to me, Saskia.” He tried to keep his voice down, but it came out a snarl.

Her head snapped up, her pretty, brown eyes churning. “You’ve done enough! I dragged you into this mess. Now, Savannah is hurt, and you could be next, and you’ve just recovered from your own injuries.” She closed the gap between them and stabbed a finger in his chest. “So, I’m doing this for you. I know that you don’t want me around, that it’s difficult—”

Fuck. He was an idiot. He’d been trying to protect her, but really he’d been trying to protect himself. He’d made this beautiful woman think he didn’t want her.

He stepped toward her, then kept moving.

Her eyes widened, and she backed up. “Cam—”

He kept going until her back hit the wall. He slid an arm around her, and heard her gasp. She gripped his shoulders.

“I want you so much it’s tearing me apart,” he said.

Her lips parted, shock on her face.

“I dream about you. I think about you all the time. I want to hear your voice, your laugh. I want to touch your soft skin…”

“Cam,” she whispered.

“I’ve been so caught up in my own head, worried I couldn’t give you what you deserve. Then today, seeing that asshole trying to drag you off the street—” Fury rose, hot and churning. He didn’t have to go far to tap into it. “I knew I had to keep you safe. No more walls, no more distance. You’re mine to protect. Mine to touch. Mine.”

Her chest was rising and falling fast.

“I gave you a chance to go, but you didn’t take it.”

“I didn’t want it,” she said.

“So now you’re mine,” he repeated.

“So…there’s an us?” Her voice was cautious.

“There is now.” He kissed her.

The kiss was a claiming. He pushed her harder against the wall, lifting her off her feet. She clung to him, her tongue stroking against his.

Cam felt heat and need, all mixed up with other emotions he hadn’t felt in so long. Maybe ever.

She pressed harder against him, never once letting up on the kiss. His gorgeous dancer wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Then he heard a low, amused sound behind him.

“Cam?” Vander’s voice broke the spell.

Cam set Saskia down. She took a second to find her balance. She licked her lips, and her gaze dropped to his mouth.

Damn, she was killing him.

“We clear?” he asked her.

“I think so.”

He’d make everything crystal-clear to her later.

Cam was all-in. Damn the consequences. He turned. Vander stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You tell her what you got from Mikhailov’s man?”

“Not yet,” Cam said.

Vander’s amusement increased. “I see you were busy with other things.”

Saskia straightened. “You questioned the man. What did he say?”

“Not much at first,” Vander said. “Cam…persuaded him to share.”

Her gaze whipped back to Cam, then dropped. She grabbed his right hand.

“Saskia—”

She took in his torn knuckles and gasped.

“It’s nothing,” he said.

She gently stroked his fingers. There was no horror on her face, and his tense muscles relaxed.

“It’s not nothing to me. So, did you learn anything?”

She was so tough under the delicate, slender frame. He nodded.

“Let’s go into Ace’s office,” Vander suggested.

“How are Ace and Maggie?” Saskia asked.

“Baby Isabel is good at making herself heard,” Vander said. “They’re tired, but happy.”

Cam steered Saskia into a chair, then leaned back against the desk, careful not to bump any of Ace’s computers. Even distracted by his new daughter, the tech guru would ream any of them for wrecking his stuff.

Saskia studied Cam’s face. He saw resignation fill her eyes.

“Whatever you got out of Mikhailov’s guy, it wasn’t good,” she whispered.

Cam knelt in front of her and took her hand in his. “Mikhailov is still in San Francisco. He hasn’t left.”

She licked her lips. “He’s still after me.” Her tone was dull.

Cam squeezed her fingers. “He’s not getting you, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

Her gaze met his and she nodded. “Will you promise me that you won’t get hurt?”

“No.”

Her eyes widened. “Cam—”

“I’d take a bullet for you. I’d take a knife for you. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Her fingers convulsed on his.

“When you dance, you bring emotion to life and bring beauty into the world. That’s your gift. Mine’s to fight, to kill, to protect.”

“You’ve never seen me dance.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t tell her that he’d downloaded recordings of as many of her various performances as he could find. He’d never been a guy to watch ballet, but he’d spent hours watching her dance.

“Did the guy say where Mikhailov is?” she asked.

“They were holed up at the Hilton in the city,” Cam said.

“I sent Saxon and Siv over,” Vander said. “Mikhailov was long gone.”

“They’re moving around,” Cam said. “Thanks to the feds, Mikhailov doesn’t have full access to his money, but he still has enough.” Cam was quiet for a second. “He’s obsessed with you, and now he also blames you for the situation he’s in.”

Her eyes popped wide. “You’re joking! He abducts me, imprisons me, and I’m not the first he’s done this to. Then when I escape, it’s my fault that his criminal shenanigans are crumbling around his ears? Unbelievable.”

Despite Cam’s anger and a healthy dose of fear for this woman’s safety, he felt the urge to smile.

“Mikhailov is old-school,” Vander said. “He’s had power, money, and influence for a long time, thanks to being a crony of the higher-ups in the Russian government. He believes in revenge and saving face.”

Saskia crossed her arms. “Sounds like a big baby throwing a tantrum to me. He’s a man. He should take responsibility for his own actions.”

Cam liked her sass, and knew it was hiding her fear.

He cupped her cheek. “We’ll find him. Ace’s team and Hex are helping.”

Saskia nodded tightly.

“I’ll have Rome escort you both to Cam’s place,” Vander said. “We’ll be adding extra security. For now, get her safe and rest.”

CHAPTER TEN

Saskia lay back in the big tub, enjoying the warm water.

She loved a bath. It always seemed to make the stress melt away, and her muscles relax. At least, for a little while.

When they’d reached Cam’s apartment, escorted by Rome, Cam had hustled her into the bathroom with strict instructions—a.k.a. bossy orders—to take a bath and relax.

She took that to mean he and Rome wanted to strategize on security.

She lazily moved her hand through the bubbles. She was still shocked that she’d found bubble bath in Cam’s home. She was certain badasses weren’t allowed to own anything that formed floral-scented bubbles.

Thoughts of Mikhailov tried to intrude and she ruthlessly shoved them back.

No. No nasty, rapist assholes allowed. The bubbles had a magic effect and could block all badness… At least until the water cooled.

She did let her thoughts turn to Camden.

Tingles erupted in her belly. She still wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. Did he really want to be with her, or did he just feel obligated?

Argh. She closed her eyes and splashed water on her face. Some of her hair had escaped the messy bun she’d tied it in, and she tucked it back up.

The man left her a confused mass of about a thousand emotions. Topping the lot was desire.

Hot, needy desire.

That possessive kiss at Norcross… Between her legs, all her girly parts clenched. Suddenly, her cell phone rang, jolting her enough to spill water out of the tub.

Vander had given her a brand-new cell phone, and somehow it had her old number, and all her info installed. The man could clearly perform miracles.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Saskia. I wanted to check in.” The voice held a sweet, Southern drawl.

“Addie.” Saskia sat up. “How are you? You made it back to New York okay?”

“I did. I’m good. A little jumpy, but a nice man called Bram, with the sexiest Irish accent, picked me up from the airport.”

Bram “Excalibur” O’Donovan was one of Killian’s Sentinel Security team.

“That’s great. Bram is a great guy.”

“He got me home. Checked out my apartment. I won’t lie, I was nervous to be alone, but I have a really big baseball bat. And I wasn’t too bad using a bat on the baseball field when I was at school. And that sexy Bram gave me a number for your brother’s office. In case I need help.”

Saskia’s hand tightened on the phone. “I’m so sorry you got caught up in this, Addie.”

“It’s not your fault. Gosh, I’m going to lay all the blame on that no-good Mikhailov.”

Saskia smiled. Addie sounded sweet, even when she was mad.

“Are you all right?” Addie asked.

Saskia wanted to spill everything out about Mikhailov still being after her, but she kept it to herself. Addie had been through enough.

“I’m fine. Just taking some time here in San Francisco.”

“With that mighty fine man of yours.”

“I’m not sure he’s mine…”

“He brought in the cavalry to save you. And held you like you’re his.”

“Mmm.”

Addie laughed. “Enjoy yourself, Saskia. We’ve earned it.”

“I will.” After Mikhailov was caught.

“Oh, one more thing. I had a message from Davison James, the director of that new show, On the Street, that’s coming to Broadway. Everybody is talking about it.” Addie sounded breathless. “Do you know anything about that?”

“He’s a friend, and he’s looking for dancers.”

“Saskia—”

She heard Addie’s tone, and quickly interrupted her. “It’s not a favor. I just messaged him your details. You’ll have to audition, like everybody else, and you’ll have to be good to get a part. That’s all up to you.”

“Thank you,” Addie murmured.

“You’re welcome. Take care of yourself, Addie. I’ll be in touch when I’m back in New York.”

“That’s great. You take care, too.”

Once the bath water cooled, Saskia climbed out and dug through the shopping bags. She found leggings and a silky, gray sweater that slipped down over one shoulder. She left her hair in a messy bun.

Cam was standing at the kitchen island, one hand on his hip. He’d discarded his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Hot. The man was all kinds of hot. Every single hormone she had snapped to attention.

He turned his head. “Feel better?”

She nodded. Nerves and excitement took wing in her belly. It was just the two of them. Alone.

His eyes traced across her bare shoulder, heat igniting in their depths. It matched the fire circling in her belly.

“I was going to order some dinner,” he said.

Saskia licked her lips. She wanted to bite that firm jaw, and get her hands all over that ripped body.

“I’m hungry,” she murmured. “Really, really hungry.”

His eyes flashed. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“No, I faced down trouble, and I’m really, really happy I’m alive. So, I want to do something I’ve wanted for months now.”

He growled and took a step toward her… Just as his phone rang.

No. Saskia pressed a closed fist to her chest.

He looked like he wanted to curse, and instead, snatched up the phone. “What?” A pause, then a sigh. “Fine. See you in a minute.” He set the phone on the counter with a smack. “My damn brothers.”

“They’re here, I take it?” The one time she wasn’t so happy Cam had such a tight-knit family.

“And Savannah and Siv. They all want to check on you.”

Saskia blew out a breath. “I’ll probably be grateful. Later.”

He cupped her jaw, then dropped a quick, hard, close-mouthed kiss on her lips.

She wrinkled her nose. “Or not.”

“Cute.” He stroked her jaw, just as there was a knock at the front door.

Cam opened the door, and his brothers and their women spilled in.

“We brought Chinese.” Siv held up a large paper bag.

Savannah headed straight for Saskia. She threw her arms around her, and Saskia squeezed her best friend, then looked down at the blue cast on Savannah’s left wrist.

“Oh, Savannah. How will you paint or sculpt?”

“This won’t stop me,” her friend said, fiercely. “It’s a small fracture. Practically nothing.”

Hunt, standing behind her, made a small, male sound of disagreement.

“I’m so, so sorry you got hurt,” Saskia said.

“This is not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for. Now, Siv brought food, and I brought all the makings for cocktails.”

Hunt held up two shopping bags.

“And Cam asked me to take a look at your knee,” Ryder said.

“It’s fine,” Saskia said. “It’s an old dance injury and I’ve aggravated it before.”

The medic just smiled. “Then it won’t take me long. All part of the Morgan service.”

She met Cam’s gaze and saw a faint smile on his rugged face.

Maybe this interruption wasn’t too bad, after all.

CAM WATCHED Saskia snort-laugh into a cocktail glass. Beside her, Savannah laughed as well, and Siv rolled her eyes and gulped her drink.

They were all drinking some eye-wateringly-sweet concoction with passionfruit and gin that Savannah had whipped up.

“Who knew we’d all end up with women whose names start with an S,” Ryder said, sipping his beer.

They’d all eaten the food and had several drinks. Rome was on duty outside, and would be relieved by a Norcross Security contractor later.

“Any more word on Mikhailov?” Ryder asked quietly.

Cam’s lips flattened. “Not yet. Ace’s guys and Hex from Sentinel Security are looking for him.”

“The feds are searching, too,” Hunt said. “They’re checking all the top hotels. He wouldn’t stay at some two-bit motel.”

No, Mikhailov liked his luxuries. They’d find him eventually. Cam wanted desperately to get his hands on the man.

Saskia laughed again. He was so glad to see her relaxed and happy. She wasn’t letting what happened to her dig deep.

Cam wanted Mikhailov, but Saskia safe and happy was his first priority.

“Brother, you are so done for,” Ryder said, grinning. “I’m glad you saw reason.”

“I’m still not sure I’m what she needs.”

Saskia looked his way and their gazes connected. She smiled, and he felt it in his gut.

Hunt snorted. “Then open your eyes.”

Ryder lifted his beer. “And let her decide what she needs. Looks to me like all she wants is you.”

Warmth bloomed in Cam’s chest. For a long time, he’d been drowning in guilt and pain and the sense that it should have been him who’d died, not Kris.

For a long time, he hadn’t felt worthy of love, especially not from a woman like Saskia. She brightened everything. She was light and beauty.

She snort-laughed again, Siv joining her, and he couldn’t help but smile.

Kris would’ve love her. Teased that he was going to charm her away from Cam. She’s effing gorgeous, Morgan, you lucky bastard.

Sometimes, Cam still imagined the echo of Kris’ voice. He was either going crazy or he just couldn’t fully let go of his friend.

“You did your job, Cam,” Hunt said. “A job most people can’t or won’t do. You’ve earned every bit of your new life, including her.”

Ryder rose. “I’m taking my woman home for hot sex.”

Siv crossed her long legs. “Really? And you needed to announce that to the entire room?”

“Yep. Come on, my Norwegian flower.”

“It’s a good thing you’re hot, and I love you.” Siv rose and took his hand.

Savannah and Saskia shared a long hug. The pair was smiling as Hunt tucked Savannah under his arm.

Hunt met Cam’s gaze. “You need anything, just call.”

Cam lifted his chin. “Thanks.” He closed the door behind them.

In the center of the room, Saskia turned in a graceful spin. There was elegance and grace in every line of her slim body.

She turned. “I’m so glad Savannah’s okay. The doctor said her wrist should heal up just fine.” Saskia spun again.

“I’m happy too, otherwise I might have had to lock my brother up so he doesn’t hunt Mikhailov down himself.”

At the mention of Mikhailov’s name, her smile dimmed.

“No.” Cam cupped her shoulder. “We’re not letting that waste of fucking space ruin our evening. He’s caused you enough grief.”

She touched a hand to Cam’s chest. “Tonight was fun.” She smiled. “Your brothers are yummy, and the cocktails were awesome.”

“I’m going nowhere near that yummy comment. And I noticed you enjoyed the cocktails. I might need to buy some fancy glasses.”

Saskia smirked adorably at him, her eyes sparkling.

The music changed.

“Oh, I love this song.” She spun away and turned up the volume on the stereo.

Then she moved to the middle of the living room, folded over, then sprang back up.

Damn, he loved watching her move. He dropped into an armchair. She kicked her leg up, near vertical and his cock hardened. Damn. He wasn’t sure he’d appreciated just how flexible she was.

She sank into the song, absorbing it, reflecting it.

He kept his gaze on her as she danced. She was so damn beautiful.

She spun back to face him, the song ending, her cheeks flushed from the exertion and alcohol.

“You’re so beautiful, Saskia.” He didn’t just mean her looks.

“I love the way you look at me.” She walked toward him.

He yanked her down on his lap.

She tucked her knees to his sides, straddling him, her mouth colliding with his.

Cam slid one hand up to cup her ass, and the other curled around her slim torso.

She kissed him deeply, nipping his bottom lip, her tongue boldly sliding into his mouth. Cam pulled her closer, and she rubbed against his already hard cock.

He groaned, and tangled a hand in her hair. He took control of the kiss, tipping her head back.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He put his mouth on the tendon in her neck, and the sounds she made went straight to his groin.

The sudden ringing of his cell phone had him stiffening.

“No,” she cried.

“Sorry, sweetheart, that’s Rome’s tone.” Cam squeezed her ass, and gave her one last quick kiss. He pulled out his phone. “Rome.”

“Sorry, Cam. I just caught a glimpse of a guy in the lobby. Could be one of Mikhailov’s men, but I’ve lost sight of him.”

The words were like a rush of cold water.

“Any idea where he went?”

“No, I’m looking now, but I don’t want to take any chances. Hex is checking the security feed.”

“Okay, I’ll lock Saskia down and check our level.”

“I’ll call if I find him.”

Cam set Saskia on her feet. There was worry all over her face—the tipsy happiness and desire were gone.

“It might be nothing,” he told her.

She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I don’t understand why Mikhailov is doing this. I’m just a woman, there are millions like me.”

Cam understood Mikhailov. There was no one like her. No one with her combination of beauty, talent, and goodness.

He cupped her face, ran his thumb over her lips. “This will be over soon.”

She squeezed her eyes closed and nodded. “Be careful.”

He hugged her. She hugged him back fiercely.

Then Cam pulled away. He grabbed his Glock and his knife, and checked them both. “Don’t open the door to anyone but me or Rome.”

She nodded. She looked so small just standing there. Then she straightened. “Come back to me unharmed, Camden Morgan, or I’ll be really pissed.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

He slipped out the front door, ensuring it locked securely behind him.

The corridor was empty. He moved swiftly down the carpeted hall.

There was nothing out of place, and no one in sight. He reached the stairwell and opened the door.

Silence.

Then he heard a faint scrape. A boot on concrete.

He silently closed the door behind him.

He glanced down over the railing and saw a stealthy shadow of a man coming up the stairs.

Cam’s smile was cold and grim.

Not today, asshole.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Saskia sat curled up on Cam’s couch, bouncing one leg on the floor and nibbling her nail.

She was unfortunately sober.

And worried.

He’d been gone a while. Was he okay?

She jumped up. She couldn’t just sit there, waiting. She headed for the kitchen. Times like this called for stress eating. She opened Cam’s pantry.

Cam had like two percent body fat. The man probably had no chocolate in the house.

Then she spied a familiar box and nabbed it. Her favorite truffles!

She stilled. Oh, God. There was a row of boxes. She’d told him on one of their late-night calls that these chocolates were her weakness.

Warmth moved through her. The man was so into her. He was pushing her away with one hand, and keeping a stash of her favorite chocolates on the other.

She popped a truffle in her mouth, savoring the explosion of flavor.

Where was he?

She paced and ate more chocolates than she should. When her cell phone rang, she jolted and almost dropped the box.

God, had something happened to Cam?

Belly in knots, she grabbed the phone and saw her brother’s name.

Oh. “Killian?”

“Saskia, Jesus. Are you all right? I just got back in range, and had a slew of messages from Wolf.”

She gripped the phone. “I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there—”

There was a far deeper, older pain in her brother’s voice. These men who thought they were responsible for everyone. “Killian. I’m okay, and I haven’t been alone.”

“That sick fuck who took you is going down, I promise.” There was a dark menace in Kill’s voice.

“Mikhailov is on the run,” she told him. “But he’s still here.”

There was a pause. “He’s still in San Francisco?”

“Yes. And after me, but the Norcross team is taking care of me.”

Her brother cursed. “I’ll be on the first flight back to the States.”

“Killian, I’m all right. I’m safe.”

“I’ll get Wolf and Hades to get you back to New York. My warehouse is the most secure—”

“I’m staying here. In San Francisco. For now.”

Another pause. “Where are you staying? Exactly.”

She let out a deep breath. She was an adult for God’s sake, but Killian often managed to make her feel like a little girl.

“I’m staying with Camden Morgan.”

The deep silence made her swallow.

“Morgan? Hunt’s brother. Former Ghost Ops.”

Killian had a mind like a steel trap. He never forgot anything. He probably knew the backgrounds of all the Norcross Security employees down to their shoe size.

“Yes. He’s keeping me safe. He’s outside right now following up on a sighting. He should be back any second.” Please be back any second.

“You’re vulnerable, Saskia. If he’s taking advantage—”

She rolled her eyes. “Kill, I’m a big girl. I’m okay, and Cam and I’ve been talking for months. He’s tried pushing me away, even when I didn’t want him to. I like him.”

Killian muttered a curse. “Saskia, he’s been through things you can’t even imagine. He may not be able to offer you the things you need.”

Now she felt annoyance. “He said the same thing, but the thing is, I’m the one who decides what I need, and so far, he’s giving me everything I want.”

Her brother made a strangled sound.

“I don’t mean sex,” she said.

“You don’t have sex. Ever. You’re my sister. Let’s just keep that clear.”

She laughed at his disgruntled voice. “I love you, big brother.”

Killian huffed out a breath. “I love you too, Sassy. I just want you safe and happy.”

She smiled and felt tears prick her eyes. He hadn’t used her childhood nickname in years. “I know.”

“I’m flying back as soon as I can. I trust Morgan and Norcross to keep you safe for now.”

That was a big concession from her paranoid brother. “Okay, Kill.”

“Be safe.”

As she set the phone down, the front door opened.

Cam entered, and relief filled her.

“Is everything—?” She sucked in a breath. “Is that blood on your shirt?”

He looked down at the flecks of red. “It’s not mine.”

She hissed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She stalked up and grabbed his hand. His knuckles were torn again. “What happened?”

“One of Mikhailov’s goons was sneaking up the stairwell. I incapacitated him.”

“Is he dead?”

“No. Rome helped me, and Rhys picked the guy up. He’s in a holding cell next to the other guy. We’re hoping he gives us Mikhailov’s location.” Anger vibrated in Cam’s voice.

She pressed her hands to his chest. “Hey, I don’t want you to lose yourself in this anger.”

His face softened a little. He slid a hand into her hair. “I can’t. Not with you here.”

She had to kiss him. She went up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. His hand tightened in her hair, and he slanted his head.

Mmm. She moaned. Camden Morgan could light her up every time with just a kiss. Despite everything, and even knowing one of Mikhailov’s goons had crept in close, everything quivered inside her.

She wanted Cam. She wanted to go back to where they’d been before the interruption.

Then Cam broke the kiss and Saskia fought back a groan.

“I need to wash up,” he said. “I hate touching you with blood on me.”

She nodded. “How did this guy find us?”

“He had photos printed out. Of you. And of me and Vander, from Union Square.”

And then they’d probably searched for information on Cam. God, she hated that.

“I’m sensing the mood is broken,” she said.

“Yeah.” He stroked her hair. “Besides, you’re still shaken. I just want you to rest and feel safe.”

She felt safest when she was close to him.

His gaze dropped, and his lips quirked. “I see you found the chocolates.”

“Yes. And I ate far too many waiting for you. And Killian called.”

Cam arched a brow. “He isn’t burning down Russia in revenge, is he?”

She smiled. “No. But he’s on his way home.”

Cam nodded. “I’ll clean up. You get ready for bed.” He tipped her chin up. “My bed. That’s where you’re sleeping tonight.”

She bit her lip, butterflies in her stomach. “Okay.”

He left for the bathroom. Saskia went into the guest bathroom, and washed her face and brushed her teeth. She found some cute pajamas that Savannah had urged her to buy—shorts and a tank. The shorts were very short with pink flowers on them. The pink, striped tank had a touch of lace at the neckline.

When she walked into Cam’s bedroom, he was just walking out of the adjoining bathroom.

He was shirtless, wearing a pair of black knit shorts.

Holy cow. She’d seen fit male dancers loads of times. She appreciated their toned, lean forms. But Cam wasn’t a dancer. He wasn’t lean. Cam was ripped. He was built for power and strength. He was a man who could carry a fallen teammate for miles and never stop.

A man who’d shield the people he loved from every danger.

“Shit.” His gaze ran over her. “Lucky I don’t sleep much, since I’m not going to get a lot knowing you’re wearing that.” He pulled back the covers. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Saskia climbed in. The sheets smelled like him. As soon as her head hit the pillow, tiredness rushed in.

Cam climbed in beside her and curled around her. His skin was hot, heat pumping off him.

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Sleep now.”

“Cam—”

“Shh, sweetheart. Just sleep.”

And she was shocked that sleep so easily pulled her under.

A SINGLE SPEAR of bright morning sunlight made it through the gap in the curtains and hit Cam in the face.

For half a second, he thought he was back in the desert, hot sun blaring down. But the disorienting moment passed. He registered the comfortable bed, the soft sheets, and the sweet, sleeping woman half on top of him.

Cam looked down at Saskia’s cheek pressed to his pec. One long leg was tossed over his. Her dark hair spilled like ink all over his chest. And those damn shorts were so short, he saw a hint of the smooth skin of her ass cheek.

He ground his teeth together. His cock was so hard it hurt.

He carefully slid free. Saskia made a cute sound and curled up in the middle of his bed.

In the bathroom, he willed his cock to go down so he could take a leak. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror.

As always, the first thing he noticed was the scar. He swallowed. There were so many horrible memories attached to it. The noise, the screams, the blood, Kris.

He closed his eyes, and thought of Saskia.

Elegant fingers on his cheek, stroking the scar like it wasn’t even there.

He wanted to go back into that bedroom, push the sheets and clothes off her body, and put his hands and mouth on her. Hear the noises she made when he made her come.

His hands flexed on the sink. And he was hard again.

He was going to take care of her, dammit. Not use her for his own damn needs.

He headed out to the kitchen to make coffee. There was a bakery around the corner with good croissants and bread, so he could arrange a delivery.

Then he wanted to get to Norcross Security to get an update on the hunt for Mikhailov. He scowled, listening to the coffee machine. He wanted the asshole in a cage. As much as Cam wanted to pummel the guy, he’d have to be happy with handing him over to the feds.

And knowing Saskia was safe

“Hey.”

He turned, and saw a sleepy-looking Saskia, her hair loose, standing there in those ridiculously tiny pajamas.

They shouldn’t be so sexy, but they were. His cock stirred. Shit.

He cleared his throat. “Sleep well?”

“I did. Much better than I guessed I would.” Her lips curled. “And I like sleeping pressed up against you.” Her gaze dropped, tracing over his bare chest. “I just have to get it out there that you are hot. Like ridiculously.”

This wasn’t helping his hard on. “I work out. You’ve no doubt seen fit bodies in your dancing.”

“There’s fit and then there’s—” She waved a hand at him.

He needed to change the subject. “Do you want coffee?” He pulled two mugs out of the cupboard.

“I don’t want coffee.”

He looked back at her.

She lifted her chin, and the look on her face hit him in his gut.

“I want you to touch me,” she said.

The air rushed out of him. “Saskia, you’ve had a rough few days—”

She shook her head. “Don’t tell me what I feel or want. Yes, the last few days have been challenging, but I’m alive, I’m safe, and I’m determined to live my life. I want to do all the things I’ve wanted to do but have been putting off.” Her eyes flashed. “That includes you, Camden Morgan.”

Cam heaved in a breath. He set the mug down, his hands flexing. He couldn’t fight this anymore. Hell, he wasn’t sure he should.

Saskia Hawke was his, and he was claiming her.

He strode toward her, saw her eyes widen.

“No going back,” he growled.

“I don’t want to go back.”

He moved fast, yanking her to him. Their bodies collided and he tightened his hold, his mouth taking hers.

All his control, doubts, and uncertainties vanished for now.

Desire was a hot burn. He needed this woman.

The force of his kiss made her neck tilt. He broke off, so he could yank the tank off her. Then those maddening shorts hit the floor.

His cock throbbed. Hell. She was naked, wearing no underwear.

She stared up at him, desire and need reflected in her dark eyes. Her slender body looked almost delicate at first glance. It was deceptive. He cupped one small breast, his thumb brushing across her nipple. It hardened and her chest hitched. He saw the pulse hammering in the side of her neck.

Cam put his mouth back on hers. Her hands slid across his shoulders.

“I love your body,” she panted.

“Not as much as I love yours.”

He backed her up, everything exploding. He needed to touch her all over.

“I want you so much, Saskia.” He ran his hands up her body. “So fucking bad. Every night, I think of you. Every day, I want you. In my bed. In my arms. Any way I can have you.”

“I want you too.” There was no hesitation or uncertainty in her voice.

They stroked and caressed each other, the kiss turning even more intense, with no restraint. Saskia put her mouth on his neck. He ran his hands up and down her body.

One of her hands gripped his ass, then she was shoving into his shorts.

When she got them off, she curled a hand around his hard cock.

He grunted. Fuck. She stroked him and he pushed into her palm. She kept her gaze on his cock, her cheeks flushed.

“Like steel,” she whispered.

As she explored, he groaned. He looked down, saw her slender, elegant fingers wrapped around his rigid, swollen cock. She ran her finger down on the throbbing vein.

“Fuck.” If she kept touching him like this, he’d come in her hand.

He wanted, no, needed, to be inside her.

He nudged her hand away and picked her up. She gasped, and wrapped her legs around his hips.

He walked toward the bedroom, but then she shifted, the head of his cock lodging against her folds.

She gasped and he groaned. Their gazes locked.

Cam felt wild and raw inside. He’d never, ever wanted anything as much as he wanted her. The bedroom was too far away. The couch was too far away.

He shifted, going down on one knee, and lowering her onto her back on the floor. She clung to him, her wide eyes meeting his.

He thrust inside her.

Her lips parted and she cried out. Her hands convulsed on his shoulders.

Damn, she was tight.

Cam started moving, thrusting hard and deep into her warmth. Her body jolted beneath him, but she held on, with him every step of the way.

It felt so good, magnificent.

“There it is,” he groaned. “That tight, wet sweetness.”

Her nails dug into his skin. “I love you inside me. So deep inside me.”

He’d wanted to go slow. To take his time. But now, lodged inside her, he didn’t have it in him. “Saskia.” His voice shook with strain, he kept up his thrusts.

“Take what you need,” she breathed, her hands sliding into his hair. She pulled his head down and kissed him. It was deep, all-consuming.

“Don’t want to hurt you.” His need for her made him shake, left his control shredded.

“You won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me.” Her tone was breathy. “Cam, please.”

He moved faster, grinding into her with every thrust.

“Jesus, Saskia,” he groaned. Pleasure was a hot spear down his spine.

She bucked her hips up, moaning. He knew she was close, her inner muscles clenching on him.

He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Sweetheart, let go. Come.” He moved deeper, his thrusts losing their rhythm.

Her long legs tightened, and her climax hit her.

Cam couldn’t look away. God, her face. It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen.

Lost in her beauty, his own release hit.

He pressed his face to her throat and groaned through the pleasure, pouring himself inside her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

She lay on the floor, trying to catch her breath, Cam’s delicious weight still on her.

Wow. Saskia smiled at the ceiling. Sex had never been quite this intense or wild or amazing before.

He still hadn’t said anything. She bit her lip. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way.

“Um, was that good for you?”

He lifted his head. “Good?”

“Yes?”

“Sweetheart, if it got any hotter, we’d both be ash.”

Warmth filled her. “Oh. Good.”

He shifted, then rose, lifting her as he did.

She gasped. It was another sign of just how strong he was. He strode into his bedroom, then through into the bathroom, and set her down on the edge of the vanity.

“You on the Pill?” he asked.

That’s when she took conscious notice of the wetness between her legs.

Oh. “No. I haven’t needed it, and I prefer not to take it if I don’t have to.”

He held a washcloth under the faucet, then nudged her legs apart.

As he wiped her, she tried not to blush.

“I didn’t use protection, but I’m clean,” he said. “I…haven’t been with anyone since I got out of the hospital. And Vander makes us take regular health checks.”

“Okay. I’m healthy, too. We have regular checks for the company insurance. And—” she did a mental calculation in her head “—cycle wise, we should be fine.”

He threw the cloth in the sink, then cupped her chin. “Let me know if that changes.” He released a breath. “I said I’d protect you…”

“Cam.” She gripped his wrist. “It’s fine.”

“I didn’t mean to fuck you on the floor like an animal.”

Her chest hitched. “It was the best sex of my life.”

His head jerked.

“It was wild, and out of control, and no one’s ever wanted me like that.”

He stared at her for a beat, then slid a hand into her hair and kissed her. He pulled her off the vanity and she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back.

He spun her and she saw their reflection in the mirror. Her belly clenched.

He rose up behind her, big and strong. He was all hard, ropey muscle, a contrast to the slender lines of her body. Her skin was so much paler than the deep tan of his. Her skin was smooth, and his was rougher, with nicks and scars.

His hands came up and cupped her breasts. She made a breathy sound.

“So beautiful.” He played with her nipples, and she writhed against him. Her nipples turned to hard buds, and she felt his cock hard against her ass.

“When I was on missions, out in the desert, trying to sleep in the dust and heat, there was nothing beautiful.” He watched her body’s response, entranced. “I never thought I’d have anything sweet or soft or beautiful again.”

“Cam.” She melted into his touch.

One big hand stroked down her body, then between her thighs. In the mirror, she watched as he caressed her. His gaze was on her body, his face close to reverent.

He stroked her folds. God, she was so wet. She felt like there was fire in her veins, and she couldn’t hold still.

She didn’t realize it was possible to desire someone so much.

“That look. That look on your face.” His voice was deep, gritty.

Suddenly, he hauled her up and spun her. She felt the cool marble of the counter under her bare ass.

Cam dropped to his knees.

Those rough, scarred hands spread her thighs, and before she could get her bearings, he buried his face between her legs.

She cried out. She felt the scrape of his stubble on her delicate skin, his tongue doing amazing things. His single-minded intensity was almost frightening. As he sucked her clit, she gripped his short hair, wrapping one thigh around his head.

Husky cries ripped from her. She raised an arm above her head, needing something to hold onto. She pressed a palm to the mirror, lifting her hips to Cam’s marauding mouth.

Then she came. Hard. It was brilliant.

Her cries were still echoing off the walls when he pulled her off the vanity.

She was shaking, pleasure still rippling through her as he spun her. She gripped the edge of the counter, her gaze moving to the mirror.

Her belly cramped. God, his face.

It was hard, his scars standing out. He looked like a barbarian lord about to claim his war prize.

He shoved her feet apart, his hands moving over her ass. He opened the drawer, and she heard the crinkle of foil.

His gaze met hers in the mirror. One of his hands snaked around her, pressing against her belly.

She watched that rugged face as he thrust inside her.

Saskia arched, crying out his name. He covered her, his stubble scraping her neck, his teeth grazing her shoulder as he fucked her.

In that moment, nothing else existed. There was only the two of them, and the raw, intense pleasure of Cam’s big cock thrusting inside her.

His hand moved. She felt him stroke where they were joined, where his flesh was moving inside her. Then he worked her clit.

Saskia screamed. Sensations washed over her with sharp, searing pleasure. Her body shook, her inner muscles clenched down on his cock.

Cam thrust deep and buried himself inside her. He pressed his face to her neck, growling against her skin as he came.

They stayed like that, for how long she had no idea. Time didn’t seem to exist.

“You okay?” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Did I hurt you?”

“Well, ‘okay’ seems a very tame word to describe how hard I just came.” She met his gaze in the mirror. “And you didn’t hurt me at all. In fact, I hope you’ll do it again soon.”

His lips quirked. “My ballerina likes getting fucked.”

“She likes getting fucked by you.”

He pulled her up and touched her hair. “I didn’t plan this. After fucking you on the floor, I planned for us to shower, then I was going to have you in my bed next.”

She grinned. “If you’re expecting any complaints, I’m not giving any.”

Then her legs wobbled.

He slid out of her and dealt with the condom. She watched him, and the flex of all those intriguing muscles.

Then he was back, sweeping her into his arms.

“We’re not due at the office for a while. Why don’t you rest for a bit?” He set her on the bed.

She grabbed his hand. “Only if you rest with me.”

“If I get in that bed, there won’t be much resting going on.”

“So?”

He stared at her.

“You’ve come twice,” she said. “Surely you can’t go again so soon.”

His brows winged up. “I’m already half hard just looking at you.”

Saskia’s gaze dropped. Her lips parted.

Oh. He wasn’t lying.

She licked her lips. “Get in the bed, Camden.”

He gave her a slow smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

CAM GRIPPED Saskia’s hips as she rode him.

They’d rested. Resting had turned into exploring. It turned out his ballerina had a thing for his abs and chest. She’d stroked, licked, and memorized every inch of him.

He’d stroked that long body of hers all over, too. He had a new appreciation for just how flexible she was.

Saskia moaned, letting her head fall back as she rode his cock. The black rain of her hair was so damn beautiful.

“Get there, sweetheart.” He cupped her breast, toying with the pink nipple.

She looked at him, face flushed, hips working him.

He’d never seen anything so damn gorgeous.

“I’m close,” she panted. She scored her nails down his chest. “I love your body.”

He found her clit, swollen and sensitive.

She jerked.

“Come,” he ordered.

She did, moaning and shuddering. She collapsed on him, her hair everywhere.

Gorgeous.

“Kiss me, Saskia.”

She lifted her head. He buried his hand in her hair as she kissed him. He felt their connection, all the way to his soul. Like rain on parched ground.

Then he heaved up.

She gasped. He had her flat on her back, and took a second to appreciate the view of her spread naked on his bed, black hair spilling across the rumpled sheets. Then he settled between her legs. She tucked her thighs against him. His cock brushed against her, then he buried himself to the hilt in his Saskia.

She moaned his name. “I love you inside me. I need you to come inside me, Camden.”

Every slide inside her tight warmth ignited pleasure inside him.

“I’m going to think of you all day,” he said. “Your tight pussy wrapped around my cock. The sweet sounds you make when you come.” He picked up the pace, his thrusts so hard, her body rocked with every one.

She came again, and then Cam let go. He slammed home, the most intense orgasm hitting him. He strained through it, hips jerking.

He collapsed on the bed beside her, chest heaving. He pulled her tight into his arms. They were both covered in a sheen of sweat.

She reached for his hand and entangled their fingers.

“I didn’t know it was possible to have this much sex, all in one morning,” she said. “Especially mind-blowing, intensely amazing sex.”

He smiled into her hair. He felt so good, all his muscles relaxed. “It’d been a while for me.”

She turned and kissed his jaw. “You had a lot of sexual frustration to work out.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her mouth. “But don’t think for a second I won’t have you multiple times when the mood hits.”

She shivered. “Right, well, I’m going to get us some breakfast.” She sat up.

He started to sit too.

“No.” She slid off the bed. “You stay there. I get to spoil you for a change.”

She snatched one of his business shirts off a chair, and only did up a couple of buttons, making her look incredibly fuckable as she walked out.

He blew out a breath. Hell, when was the last time someone had wanted to spoil him?

A few minutes later, she came back with mugs of coffee and a plate of toast, sliced fruit, and some cheese he didn’t even know he had.

She handed him a mug and sat on the bed.

Cam leaned against the headboard. “Lose the shirt.”

Her eyes widened. “I can’t eat naked.”

He sipped his coffee. “Sure you can.”

She hesitated, but did it. She slid the fabric off. Her pretty tits and flat belly were all he could see.

She ate some cantaloupe. “So, we’ll go into the Norcross Security office?”

He nodded. “I want to see if Vander got anything out of the second guard. We need to flush Mikhailov out. The more of his assets the feds take, the more desperate he’ll get.”

“Maybe he’ll leave?” she said hopefully.

“Maybe.” But Mikhailov was old-school. He had to be seen as the big man, powerful. He’d want revenge, to save face. It didn’t matter. The man wasn’t getting to Saskia as long as Cam was breathing.

“You like working for Vander?” she asked.

He took a bite of toast, chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, more than I’d hoped. At first, it was just a job for when I got back. But Vander runs a tight ship, employs good people, and there’s a lot of interesting work. Work I have the skills for.”

“I’m glad.”

“You obviously love your dancing.”

“I do. It’s in my blood.” She fiddled with the sheet. “Our father left when I was a baby. Killian fell into the man-of-the-house position, helping out our mom.” Saskia wrinkled her nose. “He also has the personality for it.”

“You love him.”

“Yes. It was hard when he finished school and left, but I knew he was destined for more. I wanted him to fly. I had no idea he was a spy, of course. He always sent birthday and Christmas presents.” A sad look crossed her face. “But in those early years, he didn’t get home much.”

“You missed him.”

“So much. Then my mom got sick. Well, she’d always been a little unwell, fragile. She had a thyroid disorder that left her tired and weak, and I think an undiagnosed mental illness, as well. While Killian was around, she managed, but things deteriorated after he left. She took up drinking and depended on sleeping pills to self-medicate, and I took up dancing. It was a lifeline, an escape. Whenever I was at practice, in those moments, being one with the music, there was nothing wrong or painful. Everything was beautiful, filled with hope and inspiration.”

Cam felt emotion swell in his chest. “What happened?”

“I tried to get my mom to see someone, but she insisted there was nothing wrong. I was eighteen when she accidentally overdosed on sleeping pills.”

“Saskia…” He took her hand.

“I was legally an adult, but I was so alone. I threw myself into my dancing. I couldn’t keep our larger apartment, so I found a smaller place, worked extra jobs, and finished school. I had no way to contact Kill. He was out of the country, somewhere.”

“Dancing got you through,” Cam said quietly.

“It saved my life.” She swallowed. “Killian finally came home, and was so angry at himself when he found out mom had died and I was alone.” She smiled. “He got me into a better apartment. And I auditioned for the dance company. A few years later, he moved back to New York and started Sentinel Security.”

“I’m glad you have him.”

“Me too. And you’re close with your brothers.”

“Yeah. And our mom. I already told you that we lost Dad a few years back.” Cam felt unsettled, shifting on the pillows. “My family have all been worried, since I came home.”

She moved closer. “Because they love you. And because your brothers have been through it, themselves.”

Cam paused, emotions churning. “That last mission. It was my fault we ended up fucking walking into an ambush.”

“Cam—”

“My fault my best friend, Kris, died. One minute he was alive, tough as hardened steel, a hell of a soldier. Next, he was in bits. Legs gone.” God, Cam would never forget the blood. The gurgle in Kris’ chest.

“It’s not your fault. War is horrible. You take terrible risks for your work.”

“We caught an Afghani villager spying on us. He was so thin. I…couldn’t face tying him up. There was a risk he’d die out there, of exposure.” Cam dragged in a deep breath. “There was also a risk that he’d give us away to the Taliban.”

She gripped Cam’s arm. “Oh, no.”

He gave her a tight nod. “I let him go, and then they knew we were coming.”

“Oh, Cam.” She wrapped her arms around him. “You faced an impossible choice.”

He shuddered, and his arm snapped closed around her. “Every night, I dream of Kris. Of him stepping on the explosives. I shout at him to stop, but he doesn’t hear me. Then I’m blown off my feet, covered in Kris’ blood.”

“Hold on. Just hold on.” She rocked him. “You haven’t talked about this to anyone before, have you?”

“No.” He pressed his face to her neck. “Why are you so easy to talk to?”

She pressed her lips to his. “Because I’m yours.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It was midmorning by the time Saskia and Cam got to Norcross Security. A contractor named Matt escorted them.

The office was a hive of activity. Vander appeared, striding toward them like the angel of doom.

Man, he was a good-looking guy, but the suit did little to soften him.

“Any news?” Cam kept her hand in his.

Vander shook his head. “We questioned your uninvited visitor. He gave us a location, but Mikhailov was long gone by the time we got there.”

Cam cursed.

“Patience,” Vander said. “We’ll flush him out.”

Saskia squeezed Cam’s fingers and he nodded.

“Coffee?” he asked her.

“Sure.”

He returned with the coffee and led her to an empty office.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked. “I have some things to follow up on.”

“I’m fine, Cam. I have the Kindle app on my phone, and music to listen to. Plus, I need to call my dance director and tell him I need a bit more time off.”

Cam’s scowl reappeared.

“What?” She touched the groove on his brow.

“I hate the reminder that you live really far away from me.”

Her heart thumped in her chest. “One step at a time, right?”

He nodded. “And unfortunately, Mikhailov is first.”

Cam pulled her in for a quick kiss and then headed for his office.

Mmm, she loved seeing him in a suit.

She queued up some music, humming to herself. She sat in the desk chair and crossed her legs. She wore a new outfit she’d bought with Savannah. A cute, long-sleeved blue dress cinched in with a belt at the waist. She’d paired it with knee-high, brown boots.

She sent some messages to Savannah, who insisted she was fine, and busy in her studio.

So, how are things with Cam?

OMG. Savannah, I didn’t know it could be this good.

Squee. You just needed a Morgan brother.

I don’t know what’s going to happen after, but the first priority is catching Mikhailov.

That asshole is going down.

Saskia smiled. She was so glad that Savannah’s ordeal hadn’t dimmed her spirit.

I’ll see you soon xxx

Stay safe.

Saskia called her director. He was concerned, but happy to give some of the other dancers a chance to take a turn in the lead role of their current production.

“I’d prefer you were here,” Anthony said. “You are my star.”

“Don’t let the other principals hear you said that,” she teased.

“It’s important you’re safe and rested. Take care of that knee.”

“I will. I’ll be in touch soon. Bye, Anthony.” Ending the call, Saskia stared blindly at the wall. She knew some of the other dancers would be more than happy to take her role. And…she found she didn’t mind all that much.

This entire situation had made her re-assess everything. It made her realize she just wasn’t as happy as she’d thought she was.

What she got from dance had nothing to do with being under the spotlight or doing fancy photoshoots. Once again, her brain flitted back to her idea for a dance school of her own.

Was she ready to give up full-time dancing?

If it meant making a new start with a dance school, and with Cam…

She shook her head. First, she had to get out from under Mikhailov’s shadow.

Cam appeared in the doorway, his body tense.

She straightened. “What is it?”

“Good news. One of Vander’s informants has spotted Mikhailov in Seacliff. It’s an ocean-side neighborhood with big houses. Vander, Siv, and I are headed over to check it out.”

Saskia blew out a breath. “All right. Be careful.”

“We’ve got this. Saxon’s here if you need anything.” Cam closed the distance and touched her hair. “Stay inside.”

She made a sound. “Right, because I was planning to head out for a wander.”

He tugged on her hair. “I’ll be back soon.” He pulled her in for a quick, hard, and unfortunately, too-short kiss.

She watched him stride across the warehouse to where Vander and Siv were waiting.

Saskia bit her lip. He’d be fine. He’d been an elite, special-forces soldier. And he had Vander and Siv with him.

Saskia sat back down at the desk, trying to read her book.

“Saskia?”

Saxon stood in the doorway, frowning.

“Something wrong?” They hadn’t been gone long.

“Not exactly,” he said. “I’m hoping you can help me.”

She stood. “If I can.”

“I have some clients here. A couple. I need to discuss a case with them, but they have their five-year-old daughter with them. It’s not something she should sit in on, and there’s no one else to keep an eye on her—”

“It’s fine. I can sit with her.”

He flashed her a sexy smile. “Thanks. I’ll introduce you.”

He led her out to the empty sitting area by the front door, and she spotted a dark-haired little girl in a pink tutu.

Saskia smiled. Cute. A well-dressed couple stood nearby.

“Charlotte,” Saxon said. “This is Saskia. She’s going to hang with you.”

The little girl frowned. “I want to stay with mama.”

“Sorry.” The mother smiled at Saskia. “She takes a little while to warm up to strangers.”

“Well, Saskia is a ballerina,” Saxon said.

Charlotte paused, eyeing Saskia curiously. “Where’s your tutu?”

“Oh, I don’t wear my costumes all the time. I’ll show you some photos.”

“I like to wear my tutu all the time.”

“She even tries to sleep in it,” the mother added.

The little girl brightened. “I take ballet lessons.”

Saskia smiled. “Great, you can show me what you know.”

The little girl studied her suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re a ballerina?”

Saskia spun in a quick pirouette.

Charlotte lifted her little chin. “That’s easy. I can do that too.” She spun in a circle, almost losing her balance. She was impossibly cute, even with the attitude. Saskia saw Saxon and the girl’s parents hiding smiles.

“Hmm.” Saskia tapped her chin. “Can you do this?”

Saskia kicked her leg up, holding it vertically against her shoulder. With her other hand, she grabbed the skirt of her dress to make sure she didn’t flash anyone.

“Wow.” Charlotte’s little mouth dropped open. “You are a ballerina.”

Saxon was staring at her with an odd look on his face.

Saskia lowered her leg. “We’ll be fine.”

He nodded, waving Charlotte’s parents toward an office.

“Cam is a lucky man.” Saxon winked.

Saskia felt heat in her cheeks. “Right.” She sat on the small couch in the entry. “Can you show me your positions?”

Charlotte sprang into action.

She was a delight. She had more enthusiasm than talent, but as Saskia adjusted her arms, the little girl took instruction well.

They sat on the couch together and Saskia showed Charlotte some pictures from some of her performances.

“You’re so beautiful.” Charlotte took the phone, flicking through the images.

Saskia’s mind drifted, wondering if Cam and the others had found Mikhailov. If Cam was all right.

The shadow of a large person flickered through the glass panel beside the front door, catching Saskia’s attention. She cocked her head. He didn’t seem to be talking into the intercom. He set something down, then walked away.

Maybe a delivery? She couldn’t go out herself, but she made a note to tell Saxon.

All of a sudden, the front door exploded inward.

The blast knocked Saskia off the couch. The smell of smoke hit her, and her ears rang. She hit the floor, dazed.

Then she realized Charlotte was screaming, cowering on the couch.

Saskia crawled to the girl and pulled her to the floor.

Then there was another explosion, and Saskia threw herself over the little girl and prayed.

FRUSTRATION SKEWERED CAM.

Their lead had gone nowhere. If Mikhailov was renting a house in the luxurious Seacliff area, they hadn’t found him.

“I’ve already contacted Hex,” Vander said from the driver’s seat. “She’s going to scour Seacliff electronically. If Mikhailov is there, we’ll find him.”

Cam gave a clipped nod.

“I wish Ace was in the office,” Vander said. “But Hex seems very competent.”

“Mikhailov can’t hide forever,” Siv said from the back seat.

“Hex also told me that Killian lands in New York in a few hours,” Vander said carefully.

Siv made an amused sound. “From what I hear, Cam, Killian Hawke is way more dangerous to you than Mikhailov.”

Cam grunted. He’d take on an army for Saskia. He could handle her brother.

They were almost back at the Norcross office when they heard the explosion.

For a second, Cam was thrown back in time. Back into a Humvee, with his Ghost Ops team. His vision blurred; his heart thudded in his ears. Screams echoed in his memory. Another explosion boomed.

Then Siv leaned forward. “Dritt! That was from our office.”

Cam was flung instantly back to the present, and his body locked. Vander stomped on the accelerator.

They sped onto their street and Cam watched black clouds of smoke billow into the sky. His gut turned to rock.

No. Fuck, no.

Saskia.

Vander cursed. His boss slammed on the brakes, and the SUV skidded to a stop. The three of them leaped out.

It looked like it had been a targeted charge on the front door. There was a gaping hole where the entrance had been, but the structure itself looked intact.

For a moment, Cam was frozen. He saw his Ghost Ops team, saw Kris’ mangled body. Then he squeezed his eyes closed. In his head, he saw Saskia’s body—damaged, bloody.

He hadn’t protected her. He’d failed her.

Then sound rushed back in. In one movement, Vander and Siv whipped out their handguns.

Cam snapped back into battle mode. Saskia. He had to get to Saskia. He pulled his Glock out.

Vander lifted a hand and gave a small signal. Cam and Siv flanked their boss as they crossed over the rubble.

Cam scanned the interior as best he could, and saw Saxon fighting hand-to-hand with a masked man in a gray hoodie.

For all his elegance, Saxon was a warrior at heart. His punches were hard, and his kicks deadly.

Movement caught his eye, and Cam spotted a second attacker, bent over by a couch. He hauled a struggling Saskia up off the floor.

Saskia. Alive.

She swiped at the man’s face. Cam saw she was shielding a crying little girl.

“I don’t have a clear shot,” Vander barked.

Cam shoved his weapon into his holster and saw red.

He charged in. His chop hit the man in the kidneys. The guy grunted and dropped Saskia. She scrambled away, clutching the girl to her chest.

The man spun, then attacked Cam.

The guy knew some sort of martial art—Sambo by the looks of it. Something that had come out of the Russian Army.

But Cam was no green recruit, and this asshole had threatened his woman.

He dodged, lunged, and then rammed a punch into the man’s side. When the guy staggered, Cam unleashed a rain of brutal hits and blows.

He had to protect Saskia.

Blood dripped onto the man’s shirt. He lifted his fists, unsteady, but still fighting. His mask was askew, his bleeding mouth visible. Cam launched at him again. Punch, kick, hit. A fist slammed Cam’s eye, but he gritted his teeth, and blocked the pain. Enough. Another kick and the man flew over the dust-covered couch and hit the floor.

Cam took a step, ready for more.

Siv stepped into view, her hand up to stop him. Or calm him.

“I’ve got him.” She jerked her head.

Cam turned. Across the ruined, rubble-strewn entry, he spotted a disheveled Saskia holding the little girl.

“Charlotte!” A brunette woman screamed, running into the chaos.

The little girl broke free of Saskia and ran toward a couple who’d come from the direction of the offices.

Saskia looked up. She had dust in her hair.

Cam strode across the space and scooped her up. She threw her arms around him.

“God. God.” Her voice was shaky.

“I’ve got you.”

“I know.” She met his gaze. “I know you do.”

Something settled inside him.

She’s way too good for you, my man. An echo of Kris’ voice in his head. You take good care of her. You’re good at that. Always were.

Cam saw Saxon and Siv standing over the two downed attackers. Other Norcross Security employees hovered nearby.

Vander stood in the center of the mess, his hands on his hips, his face an impassive mask. He turned. “Mikhailov has really pissed me off now.” He pointed at the two attackers. “Get them to the holding cells.” Vander’s voice was sharp as a whip. “You attacked my place, you’re after a woman under Norcross protection. You’ll regret it.”

The men both paled and looked at the floor.

In Cam’s arms, Saskia shivered.

“Saxon, make some calls and get this mess sorted out,” Vander ordered. “Someone get a fire extinguisher and put the flames out. I want the door fixed today.”

Saxon nodded. “On it.”

“And Saxon, call Hunt.”

“He’ll take these guys into custody,” Saxon said.

“Yeah, well, not until we’ve had a chat with them,” Vander said darkly.

Saskia trembled again. Cam pressed his face to her hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

She stiffened, and pulled back, anger on her face. “No, it’s not. How dare Mikhailov do this? Charlotte could’ve been hurt, an innocent bystander, a child. It’s bad enough you and Vander and the others are risking yourselves, but if he hurt someone—” Her voice broke, and she shook her head. “I can’t live with it. I need to….go. Where he can’t find me.”

Cam’s chest felt like it filled with concrete. “No.”

“Camden—”

“No.” He yanked her back into his arms. He couldn’t bear the thought of her out there, alone, with no protection.

He sank onto the couch and pulled her onto his lap. “I won’t let you leave me.” He dragged in a breath. “Don’t leave me.”

She made a sound and clung to him. She pressed her face to the side of his neck.

Vander watched them. “She has a point.”

Cam frowned.

“She needs to be out of sight. Mikhailov is going down, and clearly willing to throw everything he’s got at hunting her. I’m not sure he’s thinking rationally anymore.”

Cam pulled Saskia closer. “What are you suggesting?”

“Safe house.”

Cam pondered, then nodded. “I’ll go with her. Just the two of us.”

Vander nodded. “You need to disappear until we have Mikhailov contained.”

“What on earth is going on here?”

The female voice made Cam’s head jerk up. “Mom?”

“Mom?” Saskia squeaked.

Delia Morgan stepped through the ruined front door, a plastic container held in her hand. She pushed some of her ash-blonde hair behind her ear and then her gaze found Cam.

“I was in the neighborhood and brought you lunch.”

She did that a lot. It was her way of checking up on him.

His mother’s gaze finally took in Saskia sitting on his lap. Her green eyes widened, then she smiled. Her smile was bright enough to blind, and then he saw tears fill her eyes.

“Mom…”

“We’ve had a bit of trouble, Mrs. Morgan,” Vander said.

The woman nodded and patted Vander’s cheek. “Well, you’re used to trouble, aren’t you, Vander?”

He gave her a faint smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re good at dealing with it, as well.”

“Yes.”

“Now, Camden.” She crossed over the rubble like it wasn’t even there. “Who is this?”

Saskia stood, dusting her dress off. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Morgan.”

“Mom, this is Saskia. Saskia Hawke.”

His mother looked between them, and tears threatened again. “Please, call me Delia.”

Cam shifted. “Mom.”

She held up a hand. “I’m fine. Truly, fine.” She met his gaze. “And so happy.”

He hugged her. She’d never given up on him, not once. She’d always been there with quiet support and unwavering love.

When he let her go, he took Saskia’s hand. This made his mom smile again.

“I made you some meatballs in red-wine sauce. Saskia, that is such a lovely, unique name. Meatballs are his favorite.” His mom winked.

“Good to know,” Saskia replied.

“Saskia doesn’t cook, Mom.”

Saskia elbowed him and gave him a wide-eyed look.

“She doesn’t have time; she’s a dancer.”

His mother’s eyes widened. “A…dancer. Ah, well, that’s…”

Saskia made a sound and squeezed his fingers, hard.

“A ballet dancer, Mom.”

“I’m a principal dancer with a ballet company in New York,” Saskia added quickly.

His mother laughed. “Oh, well, really any dancing is wonderful.” She looked at the two of them again.

From the look on her face, Saskia could be a two-headed alien from Mars, and his mom would still be happy.

“How about we go for lunch, then?” his mother asked. “Saskia too.”

“Sorry, Mom, we can’t. Saskia is in danger. That’s why we’ve had some trouble here.”

Saskia leaned into him.

His mom’s face turned serious. “You’re protecting her?”

Cam nodded.

“I’m so sorry to cause all this trouble,” Saskia said.

“It’s not your fault.” His mother patted Saskia’s cheek and speared Cam with a look. “Besides, there’s no one better to look out for you. Keep her safe, Camden.”

“I plan to.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sitting in the backseat of the X6, Saskia clasped her hands together.

Cam was in the driver’s seat, and they were idling in the Norcross Security parking level. She studied the bruising and swelling around his eye. She had a few cuts and scrapes herself from the blast, but she was alive.

Poor Charlotte had been terrified.

Anger at Mikhailov burst inside Saskia. If the man was here, she’d shoot the prick herself. He’d blown up Vander’s office.

One thing she’d learned from today’s experience, though, was that she never, ever wanted Vander mad at her. He was pissed with a capital P, and it made him terrifying to behold.

There were several other X6s in front and behind them, with Rhys, Siv, Rome, Saxon, and Vander at the wheels. The plan was for all of them to leave at the same time, and for each vehicle to head in a different direction. If anyone was watching, they couldn’t follow them all.

She and Cam had small emergency bags, packed with clean clothes and basic supplies. And Cam had enough weapons to take on a small army.

“Where are we going?” She rubbed her arms. She couldn’t get warm.

“A safe house north of San Francisco. It’s in a small town. We’ll shower, change, and swap vehicles.”

“We won’t stay there?”

He met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “No. I want to put a bit more distance between us and Mikhailov. The more the better. You’ll be safer.”

“This is so much trouble for you—”

He turned back and gripped her knee. “It’s nothing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Her heart did a crazy dance in her chest.

She was falling for this battle-scarred protector—hard and fast.

And she was terrified that this terrible situation she’d been sucked into would get him killed.

Everyone she’d ever loved had left her. She still had Killian, but her brother was busy, and lived on his own edge.

Her father had left when she was a baby. Her mother had left her bit by bit.

Maybe she was supposed to be alone.

“Saskia?”

She looked into Cam’s green eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” He gave her knee a final squeeze, then looked back out the windshield.

She’d sent Killian a message about the explosion, and the plan for her and Cam to lay low. She nibbled her lip. Her brother was in the air somewhere. When he landed and found out what was going on…

All hell was going to break loose.

The lead X6 pulled out of the warehouse. Soon, they followed.

“Down,” he ordered.

He’d already pulled a ball cap low over his face. Saskia lay on the backseat, and pulled a blanket over her.

She lay there, stewing in her own thoughts as they drove.

Cam had survived war. He’d survived so many hard missions, and he’d barely survived his last one with his life.

She wasn’t going to be the reason he died.

She heard him talking on the cell phone with the others.

“We’re across the bridge. All clear.” A pause. “Saskia, you can sit up now.”

She sat up and looked at the Bay. The San Francisco skyline was in the distance, and then her gaze shifted to Alcatraz Island. They’d just crossed the Golden Gate Bridge.

“It’s a short drive to the safe house in San Rafael,” he told her.

Nodding, she curled in on herself, staring blindly out the window.

“Saskia?”

“I’m fine,” she murmured.

Inside her, everything was a crazy jumble. Mikhailov had blown up the Norcross Security office. What would he do next?

It wasn’t long before Cam drove into San Rafael. They passed some beautiful, historic, Spanish Mission style-buildings, but Saskia was too numb to appreciate them. They passed through the bustling downtown, into a suburban area with average-looking family homes. Cam pulled into the driveway of a nondescript ranch house. He touched the dash and the garage door opened. Inside the garage was a black truck, and he pulled in beside it.

“Come on. We’ll eat and change. I want to check those scrapes on your face.”

She nodded tightly.

Cam grabbed their bags from the back, then unlocked the connecting door from the garage into the house.

The inside smelled faintly of lemons. It was nothing fancy, but it was clean. The open-concept kitchen opened into the living area. The kitchen cabinets and appliances were dated, but functional. Through locked sliding doors, she saw a small, pocket-sized backyard.

Cam dropped the bags on the floor, then unzipped his. He pulled out a first aid kit.

“Bathroom.”

“Cam, I—”

“No arguments.”

She huffed out a breath. “Maybe I feel like arguing.”

His gaze snapped to hers.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said. “I think I’m entitled to a breakdown. This asshole is after me. He doesn’t even know me. You’ve been attacked. Savannah has a broken arm. Norcross Security had its front door blown in.” Her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. “That little girl… She could’ve been hurt.”

Cam gripped Saskia’s arms. “But she wasn’t. You need to hang in there a little bit longer.”

Saskia bit her lip.

“You aren’t alone.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “The best thing I learned in the military is that in the toughest situations, you can’t go it alone. The only way to get through this is to trust your team. Lean on them.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I forgot that for a while. After I was injured, I thought I had to go it alone, but I don’t. And you don’t. I’m your team, Saskia.”

Emotion whirled. “I’ve never had a team. Killian is my rock, and if I needed him, he’d be there, but…”

“But he has his own demanding life.” Cam smoothed her hair back from her face. “And life’s taught you not to lean on others too much. Sweetheart, you can’t get through this alone.”

She pulled in a shuddering breath and let him lead her into the bathroom. It was all plain-white tiles, with a shower over the tub, a single vanity, and a toilet.

He made her sit on the edge of the tub, and opened the first aid kit. He ripped open some wipes and dabbed at the cuts on her cheeks.

She winced at the sting.

“Mikhailov will pay for every mark,” Cam murmured.

“I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt. Promise me you won’t.”

“I can’t. I’ll do whatever it takes so you’re safe from him. If that means I’m in the line of fire, I don’t give a fuck.” He sat down beside her on the tub and kept cleaning her cuts.

She’d known all along he was tough and overprotective. But it didn’t stop the worry in her stomach.

She reached up and touched the bruising at the side of his eye. Then noted his torn knuckles.

Again, he’d fought for her. Bled for her.

This time, she took a wipe, grabbed his big hand and started wiping away the blood.

These tough, scarred hands had seen life. Seen war. Yet they could still be so gentle.

She stroked his tanned skin. When she looked up, there was fire in his eyes.

“Saskia.”

SHE WAS KILLING HIM.

Cam hated seeing the worry and fear on her face. He knew Saskia was thinking she should run.

To protect others, not herself.

To protect him.

Hunt and Ryder had always been there for him. His fellow Ghost Ops brothers had always had his back. His Norcross teammates did, too. But when had a woman felt the need to protect him?

Never.

Now Saskia was stroking his scarred, rough hands like she thought they were beautiful.

“You should leave me,” she said.

“Not gonna happen.” In this lifetime or the next.

“Then I should leave you,” she said.

He gripped her jaw, their gazes clashed. “I’d find you. There’s nowhere you could go, Saskia. I’d find you.”

Her dark eyes brimmed with emotion.

And need. It was there, plain for him to see, matching his own simmering desire.

He pulled her to him.

She straddled him, cupping his cheeks. Their mouths collided.

“I need you, Cam,” she panted against his mouth.

Fuck. His cock throbbed. He palmed her ass. He needed her, too.

He took her mouth again, tasting her. The sweet spice of Saskia. Something tore loose inside of him, with a sharp pang. She had no idea how lost he was without her.

He hauled her closer and she moaned, grinding against his cock.

Cam braced his feet on the tiles so they didn’t tumble into the tub. He claimed her mouth, a hand in her hair, holding her, while his tongue danced with hers. His cock was so hard, he wondered why it hadn’t burst through his pants.

“Need you,” she panted.

“Need you more.”

She was still in her pretty blue dress. He gripped the front of her dress next, pushing open the small buttons, exposing her blue lace bra. With every breath, her small breasts pushed up.

His cock throbbed again. Damn.

He reached under her dress, and she helped by lifting her hips. Cam gripped her panties and pulled. They ripped and he tossed them away.

He tore at his trousers while she got busy, nibbling his earlobe.

He got his cock free, and she made a sound that arrowed through his gut.

She leaned forward, sucking on his neck.

“Please,” she whispered. “Now.”

“Saskia, sweetheart.” He gripped her hips.

She reached between their bodies, lined him up, and sank down.

His hands convulsed on her hips. She moaned.

He felt her tightness clench around him. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, and lips parted.

He couldn’t look away. The feel of her… It was worth every damn thing he’d ever done.

She rose up and he drove her back down, filling her with his cock.

“Yes,” she moaned.

She rode him hard, rocking against him as he powered inside her.

The bathroom filled with the sounds of their bodies connecting. Saskia’s nails dug into his shoulders, her body moving up and down on his.

Christ. She was perfect.

“Cam.” Her pussy rippled on his cock.

He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Yes, God, yes.” She rode him—fast, desperate, wild.

He shoved a hand between them, under her dress, and found her clit. He stroked.

“Cam!”

“Come, sweetheart,” he growled.

“Fuck,” she said breathlessly.

He fused his mouth to hers as she flew apart.

“Saskia… Fuck.” He snarled the words, thrusting his hips up, filling her deep as a monstrous orgasm crashed into him.

Buried inside his Saskia, he came.

She slumped on his shoulder, the feel of her harsh breaths puffing against his neck.

God, she was something. Beautiful, hot, sexy. He stroked a hand down her back, and she shivered.

Once he could think again, he tipped her head back to look at her face.

“Hi,” she murmured.

He slid a hand to the back of her neck, massaging. His cock was still half hard inside her.

“Whatever we do, we do it together,” he told her.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. Her gaze traced over his face.

“Together,” she whispered.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

“I fucked you again with no condom,” he said grumpily. “On the edge of a bathtub.” So much for showing her some care and romance.

“It’s still okay. My period’s due soon.”

“After we deal with Mikhailov, we need to look into birth control.”

She nodded.

He squeezed her hip. “Now hop up. You shower first, and I’ll bring your bag in. We need to get changed, then head out.”

“Okay, Cam.” She stood, taking a second to find her balance on her wobbly legs. Her gaze dropped to his cock.

“Babe, you look at my cock like that, I’ll fuck you again, and I’m supposed to be keeping you safe.”

“Can’t you do both?”

He tucked himself away and rose. Then he pinched her butt. “Stop being so tempting. Shower and get changed. We’ll grab food on the road. And later, I’ll fuck you again.”

She shivered. “I like that plan.”

As he retrieved their bags, he heard the shower running, and Saskia singing off key under the water.

He smiled. The woman could dance, but she couldn’t sing, at all.

He was just happy she’d shaken off the fear, and the insane idea that she needed to go it alone.

She wasn’t alone.

And Cam was starting to realize that he wasn’t, either.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When the vehicle slowed, Saskia woke from her doze.

Cam had pulled into a diner parking lot. He shut off the truck. They’d left the X6 at the San Rafael safehouse and taken this Dodge instead.

“We’ll get some food here, and I’ll get some supplies to take with us,” he said.

Saskia nodded and climbed out, feeling a few delicious twinges. She’d have bruises on her hips from his fingers after that hard, furious fuck at the safe house. She smiled. She had no regrets.

“Where are we?” she asked, as they walked toward the diner.

“Sonoma.” He pushed open the door and held it open for her.

The diner was traditional, with simple wooden tables, touches of green, and framed, vineyard art on the walls. There was a long counter with stools, and a few men sitting there eating burgers.

Cam nodded at the older waitress.

“Take a seat,” the woman called.

He led Saskia to a table in the back.

She perused the menu. “Oh, sweet-potato fries.” She wrinkled her nose, sniffing the air. “And I smell fried chicken.”

“So, order them.”

“My inner dancer is yelling at me to be healthy.”

He reached across and took her hand. “I think you’ve burned the calories today.”

Heat hit her cheeks. “You’re right.” If she wasn’t dancing full-time, she wouldn’t have to watch her diet quite so carefully. Professional dancers had to be fit and limber, and the pressure to stay in shape could be intimidating. That was something she wanted to expand on, if she started a school. Dancing for everyone, of all shapes, sizes, and ages. “I’ll have the fries and chicken.”

He smiled. A real, full-on smile. She stared at his rugged face. She wanted to see him do that more often. Wanted to be the reason he did that.

Her heart squeezed. God, falling in love could be big and scary.

They ordered. When the food arrived, Cam dug into his burger. Saskia took her time, savoring every bite of her chicken and fries.

“I need to use the restroom,” Cam said.

She nodded.

He didn’t move.

She looked up and saw him scowling. She glanced around the nearly empty diner. “Cam, I’ll stay right here. If anyone comes in, I’ll run your way. It’s highly unlikely anyone knows where we are, right?”

His scowl deepened.

“Go.” She shooed him.

“Don’t move,” he said.

She shot him a look, and he reluctantly headed toward the restrooms.

She suspected he’d always be like this, even when she didn’t have an obsessed bad guy after her. She licked some salt off her fingers. Camden had a well-developed overprotective streak. He’d probably drive her crazy at times, but a deep, feminine part of her liked it.

She kept eating, enjoying every bite. She popped another fry her in mouth and noticed that one of the guys eating at the counter had peeled away and was headed toward her.

He smiled at her. “Hi, there.”

Uh-oh. She eyed the door to the restroom. No sign of Cam.

The guy was in his mid-twenties, good-looking with thick, dark curly hair. He knew he was good-looking. It was obvious in the way he held himself. She knew the type. He wore fitted jeans and a black Henley, and had very tanned skin. He looked like he worked outdoors.

“Hi. Look, my boyfriend will be back in a moment, and he’s the real jealous type.”

The guy’s glamorous smile widened. “I’m just being friendly. I thought women these days didn’t like Neanderthal tactics from men.”

“Yes, well, we’re complicated.”

He tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I just have to say, you’re really beautiful.”

“Thanks, but I was born like this, so I can’t really take any credit.”

“Sounds like you’re from New York. You gonna be around here long?”

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. The guy was asking too many questions. Was he just being overly nosy, or was it something else?

“We’re just passing through,” she said. “On our honeymoon.”

The man’s brows rose. “I thought you said he was your boyfriend?”

Shit. She sucked at this undercover thing. “It’s a trial-run honeymoon. Look—”

She saw Cam emerge. His gaze locked on the guy, and his face turned to rock.

Uh-oh. “Ah, here he comes now. Nice chatting.”

Cam stopped behind her. “Go.”

The man stiffened. “I was just being friendly.”

“Go.” Cam’s voice was like gravel.

The younger man puffed up his chest. “Maybe I should teach you some manners.”

Oh, God. Saskia shot to her feet. “Please don’t. He’s former military, it wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

“I’m a vet, too,” the man said. “Did a few years in the Army.”

Cam crossed his arms over his chest and stayed silent.

Saskia turned to him. “Let’s go.”

“What unit were you with?” the man asked. “I was 18th Infantry Regiment.”

Cam pulled out his wallet and tossed some money on the table. He pressed a hand to her lower back.

“Maybe you’re lying about being in the military to impress your woman.”

Saskia rolled her eyes.

“Hey, Fred, got a guy here lying about being a veteran,” the man called out.

Anger sparked. Saskia knew just how much Cam had sacrificed. How much he’d given serving his country, and just how much it had taken from him.

She whipped around.

Cam grabbed her arm. “Hey—”

“No.” She glared at her unwanted admirer. “My man is a hero, asshole. He served his country and he lost his best friend. He isn’t saying anything because he was special forces. He can’t say anything, and he doesn’t go around using it to impress people.”

The man’s smile slipped. Then, he leaned on the back of a stool. “Sounds like a story, doll. I still think you need a real man. One who—”

It happened so fast she barely saw Cam move. He snatched a knife off the table, and threw it.

It hit the stool with a thwack. Right between two of the guy’s fingers.

The man yelped and staggered back, running into another chair. His friends stared, their mouths open.

Saskia shot the idiot a smug smile. Then Cam grabbed the waistband of her jeans and pulled her outside.

“You were supposed to get me if someone approached,” Cam growled.

“No, I said if someone new came into the diner. That idiot was already in there.” She grinned. “That thing with the knife.” She leaned in. “Hot. So hot.” She pressed her hands to his chest and kissed him.

He made a disgruntled sound and kissed her back.

“Get in the truck. The sooner I get you to the safe house the better.”

CAM DROVE PAST MORE VINEYARDS. The sun was setting, turning everything golden, but he spotted the storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

Suited their situation. He felt Mikhailov like clouds on the horizon, too.

He glanced sideways at Saskia. She seemed fine, but there were faint lines around her mouth, and her hands were twisted together in her lap.

He’d get her free of this, one way or another.

His gut cramped. Then what? She’d want to go back to her dancing. And her career was in New York.

His hands clamped on the wheel. He was falling for her. With Saskia, he wanted to be a better man. With her in his arms, all the noise in his head went quiet.

He saw the unmarked turnoff and took the turn.

Saskia sat up straighter, peering ahead. He slowly drove down the long, gravel driveway. Ahead, a huge warehouse building came into view, along with a simple cottage and some sheds.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“Vander bought it about a year ago. It’s a training center. The warehouse is set up for close quarters tactical training. It’s a shoot house. We can train in close quarters and in night vision warfare.”

“Wow.”

“Vander has plans to upgrade it. Rent it out, run courses, but he hasn’t had a chance yet. So, no one knows that Vander owns it.”

Saskia smiled. “I guess he’s been busy this year, and probably didn’t plan to fall in love.”

“I’m pretty sure that was not on his to-do list.”

But Vander had fallen for Brynn. Cam’s hands tightened. Vander was the toughest badass he knew, and he’d finally happily accepted that Brynn was his forever. From watching the pair, Cam had no doubts that Vander was all in with Brynn.

Cam had been so sure when he got back to San Francisco that love was beyond him. Then he’d seen Saskia, and he’d been fighting his feelings ever since.

He cut the engine, climbed out, and opened the old garage beside the cottage. A gray Chevy Colorado was parked inside. He pulled their truck in beside it.

“Let’s get inside.” Night was falling and the temperature was dropping. “Warning, the cottage is very simple, and in dire need of renovation.”

He carried their bags inside while Saskia carried the grocery bags of food they’d nabbed in Sonoma.

The incident at the diner still worried him. If anyone was looking for them, asking around, and those idiots talked…

Cam shook his head. This training center was secure. It had a state-of-the-art security system, with sensors around the perimeter. It was linked to his phone, so he’d know as soon as anyone entered the grounds.

The cottage wasn’t fancy. There was a simple kitchen and living area, three bedrooms—two filled with bunks for when a group of them came out to train. One had a queen bed, and he set their bags down in there, while Saskia put the food away in the fridge.

“Home sweet home,” she said.

There was a faint edge to her words. “How are you holding up?”

She nodded. “Fine.” She managed a smile. “I have an entire team of badasses protecting me.” She walked up to him and kissed his jaw. “And my very own badass taking very special care of me.”

He hugged her, drawing in her scent.

“I won’t lie though,” she said. “I can’t wait for it to be over.”

He knew she meant the situation with Mikhailov, but it still felt like he’d taken a knife to the gut. Did that mean him, too? Was she desperate to get back to her normal life?

She’s hugging you, you idiot. So that probably doesn’t include you.

He really needed to get his head on straight. He was here to keep her safe. Everything else had to wait.

“Want to see the shoot house?” he asked.

Her eyes lit up with interest. “Yes.”

He led her across to the warehouse. There was a pin pad on the door, and he entered the code. The door opened, and the inside was dark and cavernous.

As they stepped inside, lights clicked on in the entry. They illuminated racks of laser training weapons, as well as night vision goggles.

She gasped. “Are those real guns?”

“No. They’re laser weapons.”

She smiled. “So, you big, tough security guys come here and play laser tag?”

He smiled back. “Tactical training.”

“Sure,” she teased.

He grabbed a set of night vision goggles. “How about we test it out?”

Her brows raised. “I’ll probably be terrible.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a good teacher.” He leaned down and nipped her lips. “And you can always bribe me later for a better mark.”

“Really?” She brushed her body against his. “I like the idea of that.”

He settled the goggles over her head, then pulled a smaller laser rifle off the rack and handed it to her. He showed her how to use it.

Her smile was a flash of white as she looked it over. “Ooh, I feel so tough.”

He swatted her butt. “Go. The main floor is filled with obstacles, and the back of the warehouse is fitted out with a two-story office space. I’ll give you a head start, then—” he narrowed his gaze and lowered his voice “—I’m coming to find you.”

“We’ll see.” She spun and took off into the warehouse.

Smiling, Cam selected a laser rifle of his own.

God, how much more did he smile now, since Saskia came into his life?

When he’d first met her, despite the pull, he hadn’t been ready. He’d been too lost. Still too broken and raw.

But being home, with his mom, brothers, friends, and working at Norcross, and now Saskia, he’d slowly been healing.

The pieces would never fit back together the way they had before. He touched the scar on his cheek.

But that was okay.

He thought of Kris.

I’ll always love you, man. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.

He felt none of the usual choking, black sorrow, just the bittersweet throb of things he couldn’t change. He thought he heard the echo of Kris’ laugh.

Live, Morgan. And have a drink for me.

Turning, Cam strode across the warehouse to find his woman. “You can’t run from me, ballerina.”

He heard a distant giggle and shook his head. She’d be a terrible Ghost Ops recruit.

He moved through the obstacles—chairs, desks, crates, and temporary walls. Then he heard her footsteps on the metal stairs. She was going up to the office area.

That’s when he heard something else. A ping from his phone.

Stilling, he yanked it out.

Someone had tripped the exterior sensor alarms.

Fuck.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jogging up the stairs, Saskia tried to adjust to the weird green light of the night vision goggles.

She couldn’t hear Cam at all, only her racing heart and her own footsteps.

She stepped into an office. There was an empty desk and two chairs. She ducked down. There were several small windows looking down into the open part of the warehouse.

Peering out, she couldn’t see anything. There were the shadows of the boards, temporary walls, and other obstacles.

A flash of movement. Cam.

“Saskia, someone’s on the property,” he yelled, voice echoing through the space. “Stay hidden.”

What? Her heart went into overdrive. She clutched the laser rifle. Cam disappeared from view.

Maybe it was one of the Norcross Security guys? Her belly turned into a knotted mess. But if it was, they would’ve called first.

God. Were Mikhailov and his goons here? How?

She kept looking through the goggles down into the warehouse. Somewhere, a door opened and closed, the noise echoing loudly.

Saskia’s sweaty hands clenched on her weapon.

She kept staring.

There.

She saw the large figure of a man moving cautiously through the maze of obstacles.

Then another.

She let out a breath and tried to stay calm.

Neither of those men were Cam. God, what if he ran into them?

He was too good. He had this.

Then she spotted another guy. All three were moving cautiously, and something told her that the weapons they held in their hands were real.

Then she saw one guy just disappear. One second, he was there, the next second he was gone.

She grinned. Her man was badass.

She swallowed, and then saw one guy realize his friend was missing. He turned back to—

There was a noise outside the office where she hid. Saskia stilled and shrank down.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

The scrape of a shoe. Someone stood at the door to the office, more shadow than anything else.

She didn’t dare breathe or move. How many of them were there?

Then there was a muffled shout from down below. The figure in the doorway spun. With a curse, he took off down the stairs.

Her pulse was skittering like crazy. She looked through the small window again.

She only saw two of Mikhailov’s goons now. They were charging through the obstacles, searching for Cam.

“He’s got this,” she whispered soundlessly.

Then she saw him. He rose up behind one of the guards.

He attacked with brutal speed and power. He and the man scuffled. It was hard to make out every move in the green-cloaked darkness. They slammed into a fake wall, and it tipped over with a crash.

Another man ran toward the fighting pair, shouting.

She smiled. Cam would deal with these guys, no problem.

But then Saskia spotted another shape sneaking up behind Cam’s location. Someone moving slowly and silently.

No. Clutching her laser weapon, she gasped. Cam wouldn’t even know that guy was there. Unlike the others, he was being careful.

She leaped up and quickly darted out of the office. She made it to the stairs, trying to step as quietly as she could.

When she reached the bottom, she moved in a large circle around the fighting men, toward the man creeping up on Cam.

There was a grunt, the sound of body slamming into something.

Saskia carefully crept closer. She saw two figures fighting, trading vicious, sharp jabs and kicks. It wasn’t elegant or pretty. This was the real deal.

Fighting for your life.

Cam—she’d know his muscular, tall form anywhere—kicked the guy. The man slammed into a table and flipped over.

Where was the other guy?

Then a shadow moved. It leaped up, racing toward Cam.

“Cam!” Saskia charged forward.

The goon fired, the shot deafening. She swung her laser rifle like a bat. It slammed into the man’s arm, knocking the pistol out of his hand.

The man cursed in Russian and turned.

Then Cam was on him.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh made her wince. She straightened and made herself watch.

Cam was fighting to protect her.

It was all so fast and brutal. It was hard to make out the individual blows. Then with a fierce kick to the head from Cam, the goon collapsed. In the darkness, Cam grabbed her hand and towed her through the warehouse.

“How did they find us?” she asked breathlessly.

“No idea. We need to go.”

Outside, they sprinted for the cottage. Cam had a pistol in his hand, scanning the area.

A huge black Escalade was parked outside the warehouse. There was no one inside.

Cam raced to the shed where he’d parked their truck and opened the garage door.

“We’ll take the Colorado.” He circled the gray truck.

Saskia jumped in. Before she had her belt done up, he’d reversed out fast, did a wild turn and sped down the driveway.

He fished out his cell phone. Once they were out on the main road, he put the phone on speaker.

“Norcross.” Vander’s voice.

“Vander. They found us.”

Vander cursed. “How?”

“No clue. We just sped out of the training center. We’re heading north.”

“Okay. I think—”

“Howdy, boys.” A female voice cut across the line.

“Hex?” Vander said. “How the hell did you access this call? It’s a secure line.”

There was a snort. “Norcross, I’m a hacker. A really good one.” The woman’s tone changed. “I’ve been digging into your bad guys. Twenty-four hours ago, Mikhailov hired Syntax.”

“What’s Syntax?” Cam asked.

“A group of hackers out of Estonia,” Hex said. “Very good, very expensive. They don’t care who their clients are, as long as they pay. My guess is that he had them search for Saskia.”

“They found us,” Cam said.

“Fuck a duck.” There was the sound of clicking. “Peeps, you have a big problem. Mikhailov is tracking your phones.”

Saskia gasped.

“Toss the phones, Cam,” Vander ordered. “Go dark. Check in when it’s safe.”

“Acknowledged. Doing that now.” Cam tossed his phone out the window. “Yours too.”

Saskia put her window down and did the same.

Cam turned onto another road. It was dark, with no traffic. He picked up speed.

“So, we’re safe now?” she asked.

“I hope so.” Then his gaze shifted to the rearview mirror. He stiffened.

She looked back. Headlights were speeding toward them. “How?” she cried.

“Is your belt done up?” he asked.

She nodded.

The truck shot forward. She grabbed the seat, her heart in her throat. She looked back and her stomach swirled. “They’re gaining.”

“Hold on.” His voice was grim.

Suddenly, there were blinding lights in front of them. Another car cut in front of them from a side road.

Cam swore, hit the brakes and swerved. Their truck skidded, and the SUV behind them rammed into them.

As the truck lurched, Saskia screamed. She was tossed around, her seatbelt digging into her shoulder, then their truck skidded into a ditch beside the road.

Dizzy, she blinked. Everything was blurry.

“Cam?” She turned. He was in the seat beside her, not moving. His chin rested on his chest. “Cam!”

The doors were wrenched open.

Oh, no. She saw a goon lean in on the driver’s side. The man lifted a handgun, and shot Cam twice in the chest.

“No! No.” Saskia went wild.

Cam, no.

As panic and terror ripped into her, hard hands yanked her out of the vehicle.

CAM CAME TO, stifling a groan.

His chest throbbed like he’d taken an RPG to the ribs. He pulled in a painful breath. Somewhere distant, he heard a woman’s heartrending sobs.

He tried to sort through the situation. The pain made it hard. He touched his chest. There was no blood, but it hurt like hell.

He felt the thin, high-tech, ballistic vest under his shirt. It was cracked.

Vander paid a small fortune for the still-experimental, but super-slim and lightweight vests. It fit under their business shirts and was discreet.

His had taken the brunt of two bullets, and while it had stopped them, he still felt like he’d been hit by a hammer.

He blinked in the low light, breathing through the pain. He was cramped, and he felt vibration.

He was in the trunk of a car.

He lay back and he listened to the sobbing. It tore at him.

Saskia.

He also heard the deep rumble of male voices.

“You’re murderers,” she yelled. “You won’t get away with this. I’ll make sure you pay—” Her voice broke.

Ah, shit, she thought he was dead. Cam pressed a palm to his abused chest. There was nothing he could do about that. Right now, he needed to pull himself together, make a plan, and get her safe.

They hit a bump, and a spike of agony rammed through him.

Fuck. It made him gag. He lost time for a while, his brain drifting through fog.

The next thing he realized, the car wasn’t moving, and he smelled aircraft fuel. He strained to hear anything. He couldn’t hear Saskia.

Shit. They were at an airport.

There was a dim glow, but he couldn’t see much. He ripped off the side panels in the trunk. He found an emergency kit, including a small flashlight.

He clamped the light in his mouth, then pried the panel covering the trunk latching mechanism.

It took him a minute, but then there was a dull thunk as the trunk released.

Cam pushed it open, trying his best to block the pain in his torso, and sat up.

They were at a small airstrip. Probably on some rich guy’s estate.

Cam fished around in the emergency kit. He found some painkillers and dry swallowed a few of them. It wouldn’t do much, but right now, he’d take anything he could get.

He pulled the damaged panels out of his vest, then climbed out of the trunk.

His vision swam, but he locked his legs. He had to get to Saskia. If they got her on a plane…

No. Not gonna happen.

He peered around the car.

He saw a guard carrying a struggling Saskia toward a private jet. She was fighting him every step of the way.

Then the asshole hit her.

Cam growled. She sagged and the man tossed her over his shoulder. The guy boarded the Cessna Citation.

Fuck.

Cam scanned around. Headlights cut through the darkness and a van pulled up beside the jet.

Ultimo Catering. It had a logo with a whisk beneath it.

A man climbed out wearing a shirt and ball cap with the company logo on them. The guy opened the back of the van, then grabbed a box, and headed up the steps into the plane.

Cam raced out, sprinting across the tarmac. He reached the delivery van, and inside he saw another box, ready to go. He slipped around the side of the van and waited.

The delivery driver came back down the plane steps, whistling.

Cam darted out. He slipped an arm around the guy’s neck.

“Sorry.” He pulled back and cut the man’s air off.

The guy gurgled and kicked his legs. It only took a few seconds before he sagged. Cam dragged him around and stripped off his shirt and hat.

“I’m really sorry.” He shoved the man in the back of the van. The guy would regain consciousness before too long.

Cam slipped on the shirt, covering up the bullet holes in his T-shirt. He pulled the cap low over his face and hefted the box. He closed the van doors.

He hurried up the steps and into the jet.

The pilots were talking quietly in the cockpit. Cam kept his head low, gaze on the floor as he headed into the main area.

There were two guards. Saskia was laid out on a cream couch, unconscious.

His jaw tightened. She was okay. He could see her chest rising and falling.

Hold on a bit longer, sweetheart.

“Get that in the galley,” a guard grunted at Cam.

“Yeah.” He kept his head down.

“Leo, I’ll check with the pilots. We need to get to Montana. Mikhailov is waiting for his prize. You check on the woman.”

As the first guard headed to the cockpit, the other leaned over Saskia.

Cam dumped the box in the galley and continued on.

There was a small luggage compartment at the back of the jet. He pulled the door open and slipped inside. He pressed against the wall. There were only a couple of bags in the space.

He heard the guards talking.

“Catering guy gone? Okay, let’s go.”

Montana. So Mikhailov had holed up somewhere there.

Well, there was no way the sick fuck was getting his hands on Saskia.

Cam sat down and listened to the rumble of the engines. The plane taxied, and he braced himself as they took off.

He’d had rougher rides.

Once they were airborne, he heard the guards talking and crashing around in the galley. Then he heard a higher-pitched voice.

He tensed. Saskia was awake.

A moment later, he heard her quiet weeping. The sound stabbed at his heart.

His head hung to his chest. Shit. Her pain was his. He realized now that there was no going back.

His destiny was forever tied to Saskia Hawke.

He waited, time moving like molasses. After things turned quiet, he cracked open the door. The guards had gotten food and were sprawled in the chairs at the front of the cabin. One was asleep, the other had headphones on.

Saskia sat on the couch, her legs curled to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Cam had to stop himself from going to her and pulling her into his arms. He slid out of the compartment, careful to stay out of sight of the guards.

He waved his hand.

Her head jerked up. Her eyes went wide, and every drop of color drained from her face.

She made a small sound and swayed.

It took everything he had not to charge across the cabin to her.

He flexed his hand and held one finger up to his lips.

Her tears increased, but a smile bloomed on her face. She squeezed her eyes closed for a second, then she stared at him. Like she couldn’t believe he was real.

Cam pressed a palm to his chest.

Her lips trembled, then she pressed a palm to her own heart. A second later, she blew him a kiss.

It was hard, but he forced himself to slide back into the luggage compartment.

He blew out a breath.

She’d be in his arms soon.

Then he’d get her safe, once and for all.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Saskia paced the small bedroom.

She didn’t pay much attention to the space. The walls were large logs, and there was a bed and an armchair. Everything was decorated in a modern-rustic style.

She suspected the two large windows would offer amazing views, but right now, it was pitch black outside.

Cam was alive.

She released a shuddering breath. She was half afraid she’d imagined him on the plane. He’d stood there, alive and very real. For a second, she was back in that truck, watching the man shoot Cam. Her stomach did a sickening turn. When her legs turned to water, she dropped back on the bed.

When she’d thought he was dead…

Her chin dropped to her chest. She tried to pull air into her tight lungs. It’d been like someone had cut her open, and all her hope had bled out.

She was in love with Camden Morgan. Every shattered part of his soul.

Thinking she’d lost him had been pain beyond imagining.

She wanted to go to sleep with him every night. Wake up with him every day. She wanted to coax laughs from him. Feel his strong hand squeeze the back of her neck. She wanted him inside her, fucking her hard. He could be rough, and it was exciting, but she never doubted he was also making love to her at the same time.

One day, she wanted to see those scarred, callused hands cradling their baby. A little girl to help love her wounded-warrior daddy.

God, Saskia had almost lost him.

A sob tried to escape. She’d been so trapped in her grief that she hadn’t cared that she’d been loaded on a personal jet to be carted to Mikhailov.

But when she’d seen Cam…

Of course, her protector wouldn’t leave her. He’d promised to get her free of Mikhailov.

The only place she was truly safe was in Cam’s arms.

Saskia took a deep breath. Now, she just had to wait for him to make his move. She knew he was coming.

She wished she knew exactly where they were.

Suddenly, the bedroom door cracked open, and her pulse spiked. She shot to her feet and grabbed a pretty hunk of amethyst off the bedside table.

Cam slipped inside.

His gaze dropped to the rock in her hand and his lips quirked. “That’s quite a welcome, sweetheart.”

“Cam.” She dropped the amethyst onto the rug and ran to him.

She threw herself into his arms, holding on tight. His arms closed around her and something wrenched inside her chest.

She tore at his shirt, needing skin, needing to confirm he was alive. She slid a palm in, over his chest, and felt his solid, steady heartbeat.

He was breathtakingly real and alive.

“Saskia.”

She cupped his stubbled cheeks and pressed her mouth to his.

His taste filled her, his tongue stroking hers and his hard cock pressing into her belly.

So very alive.

“I saw them shoot you.” She felt that raw pain all over again.

“Baby.” He kissed her. “I was wearing a vest. Apart from some bruises, I’m fine.” He gripped her wrists. “We need to go.”

She nodded. She noted that he was now wearing a sheepskin-lined coat and boots. There was a backpack on his shoulder.

“I raided the place and found some gear and supplies.” He dropped the backpack on the bed. “I have extra clothes for you. You’ll need to bundle up.” He pulled out a drab, olive-green coat and boots. “These will probably be a bit big, but it was the best I could do.”

She nodded, then started dressing. “Where are we?”

“Montana.”

She faltered. “Oh.”

“I scouted around. Mikhailov has a few guards. We’re on a ranch. Looks like some rich guy’s fishing hideaway. My best guess is it belongs to some buddy of Mikhailov’s, so he can stay off the radar.”

She pulled on the coat. Next were the boots, which were too big, but an extra pair of socks did the trick.

“Let’s go.” He took her hand.

“Where are we going to go?”

“We get out of the house, and make it to the trees.” He released a breath. “I’m not going to lie, Saskia, we need to put as much distance between us and this place as we can. We have to do what they least expect. Can you do that?”

She lifted her chin. “If it means us getting away, then hell yes.”

He kissed her nose.

They slipped out of the bedroom. He was silent, a ghost, and every one of her steps sounded like an elephant on the wood floor.

They heard the murmur of voices in the distance, and the sound of a TV.

They passed several rooms. One of them was a shadowed kitchen with a huge island.

“Wait.” Cam darted across the room. There was a small phone tucked into a nook. He lifted it, and tapped in a number, waited a beat, then set the phone down.

“Norcross protocol. Ace’s team or Hex will get it and track our location.” He took Saskia’s hand again.

Seconds later, they slipped out a back door and into the cool, night air.

Cabin really didn’t do the house justice. It was a log cabin on steroids. It was gigantic, with large decks looking out over what she guessed was a valley. There were no trees close to the house, but she could see the shadow of them in the distance. There were several sheds and other outbuildings dotted around.

“This way.” Cam towed her around a large building. She saw the line of the trees more clearly now, dense and dark.

Shit, there were bears and wolves in Montana, right?

Still, she’d take vicious wildlife over Mikhailov any day. Hell, she’d walk until her feet bled if she had to. She lifted her chin. She was a ballet dancer. She was made of steel under elegance.

“Wait.” Cam’s voice was a low whisper.

They stopped, backs pressed to the wooden shed.

A shadow of a guard strolled past, along with the scent of smoke. She saw the red glow of a cigarette.

Finally, the guard disappeared.

“Go.” Cam pushed away from the shed.

Together, they ran for the woods.

THEY TREKKED THROUGH THE TREES. The terrain wasn’t too rough, but it wasn’t exactly easy either. Thankfully, while it was cold, Montana hadn’t seen its first snow of the winter yet.

Cam was determined to get Saskia as far away from Mikhailov as he could.

The sound of something crashing through the woods made them stop.

Saskia, walking behind him, gasped.

Whatever animal it was ran away from them.

Thank fuck. Cam had no weapons, except for a knife he’d taken from the cabin kitchen. He really wished he had a gun.

He kept them going at a fast pace. Mikhailov would realize Saskia was gone first thing in the morning. They needed as many miles between them and him as they could get.

“I have a friend, Danie, and it’s her dream to do nighttime walks in the woods. She thinks it would be magical,” Saskia muttered, voice husky with exertion. “It’s not. It’s creepy as hell. If we get eaten by a bear, I’ll be pissed.”

Cam shook his head. “You’ll be fine, city girl.”

They kept moving, and Cam shoved through some dense bushes. He heard Saskia curse behind them.

Slowly, the eastern horizon turned a pale gray.

Some light would help them.

But it would also help their pursuers.

Cam had no doubt that Mikhailov would come for them. The man was clearly obsessed with saving face.

“How are you holding up?” Cam called back.

“Never better,” she huffed with false cheer. “God, I thought I was fit. I was smug about it.”

“There are different types of fitness.” He turned. She looked pale, shadows heavy under her eyes. He touched her cheek. “We can take a quick break and have a snack.”

She sighed. “Whatever you think is best.”

“The more distance we put between us and Mikhailov is best.”

Saskia straightened. “Then onward.”

“Once the day breaks, we’ll look for shelter and rest.”

She swallowed. “And hide from Mikhailov.”

“Yes. He’ll likely send his goon squad after us.”

Cam set off again, keeping up the pace. A few times, Saskia fell back, but she always caught up.

Soon, daylight filtered through the trees. Suddenly, he heard Saskia cry out.

Cam whipped around in time to see her fall.

She landed flat on her belly and didn’t move.

“Sweetheart.” He saw the tree root she’d tripped over. He crouched and realized she was having trouble breathing.

“Shit. Take it easy. You knocked the breath out of you.” He helped her up and patted her body, checking her over.

Then he got a good look at her face.

“Oh, baby, you’re exhausted.”

“No.” She wheezed. “I’m fine. I’ll be all right.”

He pulled her to his chest. “You’re running on fumes. We’ve been walking for hours. You should’ve said you needed a rest.”

Her face looked miserable. “My knee is hurting.”

He crouched and ran his hand up her leg. There was some swelling at her knee, and he sucked in a breath. She had to be in pain. “Sweetheart…”

“I’ve had problems with it before. I’m used to it.”

“You should have told me.”

“I want you safe.”

Damn, she made him feel so damn much. For so long, he’d been numb, cold, believed he was missing something vital inside him. Then Saskia had brought him back to life.

“Come on.” He took her hand. “Let’s find somewhere to rest.”

She nodded against his chest.

When he pulled back, he hated seeing the tears on her face. He brushed them off her cheeks with his thumb.

They continued on at a slower pace.

They needed some decent shelter, and they couldn’t risk the neighboring ranches. That was the first place Mikhailov would search.

A few minutes later, he couldn’t believe their luck.

It looked like an old hunting cabin. The shack wasn’t in great condition, and it was tiny, with a sagging front porch. He guessed hunters used it, or ranchers, when they were doing work in the far corners of their property.

He led her to it and opened the unlocked door.

To call it rustic was being generous. It was one room, with a small area with a sink and stove in one corner. There was a dusty rug on the floor, an empty fireplace, and a metal-framed double bed with a sagging mattress.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He led her to the bed. It was cold inside but he couldn’t risk a fire. There was a wooden chest against one wall and he found a musty blanket inside it.

He wrapped her in it, then set about pulling out some food. He wished he could make her a hot drink, but they had to settle for water.

She ate two granola bars and some bread.

Cam sat beside her, eating his own snack. “You did great out there. Never complained once.”

She gave him a small smile. There was some color back in her cheeks. “Fair warning, after this, any vacations we take are at the beach.”

Her words hit in his gut. She was talking as though they’d make a life together. “Think I could handle that.”

She kept eating. “Mmm, I’m feeling better already.” She yawned.

“Good. Why don’t you try to nap?”

Her deep, brown eyes met his. “I thought they killed you, Cam.”

His chest turned solid. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It gutted me.” She pressed a hand to his stubbled jaw. “I can’t even express how it feels knowing you’re alive.”

Their mouths met. This kiss wasn’t fast or fiery, but the heat was there. A slow simmer.

When they broke apart, she was panting, her eyes hot.

“I can’t make love to you, baby. I have to stay alert. I have to keep you safe.”

She nodded and leaned in. She kissed his chin, his cheeks, eyelids. She lay tiny kisses all over his face.

“Until I met you, I never wanted anyone this much,” she said.

Everything in him tightened. “I know. It’s the same for me.”

She kissed his temple. “I am so, so glad you’re alive, Cam. I love you.”

His hands flexed on her, his throat tight. “Saskia—”

“Shh, don’t say anything. I don’t need you to say anything. Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know how I felt.”

Everything was a whirl inside him. Was this love? This feeling of so much you couldn’t contain it, of feeling fucking terrified.

People died. He knew that. Just like Kris had died. And when they did, it ripped your heart out.

“Just hold me,” she murmured.

He did. Hell, he could hold her just like this forever.

Then he heard a sound.

He lifted his head.

“Cam?”

His body tightened. “I hear ATVs. Coming this way.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Trying to stay calm, Saskia watched Cam hurry around the cabin, collecting their things.

“We need to hide the fact that we were here.” His voice was grim.

“Can we outrun them?” she asked.

His turbulent, green gaze met hers. “No.”

“So, what do we do?”

“Hide and fight. I need you hidden. Whatever happens, don’t come out.”

Her stomach curdled. “And you?”

“I fight.” He opened the front door and waved her out.

Once again, her man would risk himself for her.

“Cam—”

He yanked her in for a savage, possessive kiss. “Please, Saskia. I need you safe. If something happens to me, you have to stay hidden until Vander finds you.”

She could barely breathe. If something happens to me… He said those words so matter-of-factly.

She gripped the lapels of his jacket and surprise flared in his eyes.

“Nothing had better happen to you, Cam. After this, you’re going to marry me. I’m moving to San Francisco, and we’re going to live happily ever after, in love, having excellent sex, and one day, in the future, you’re going to give me babies.”

She took a second to enjoy his expression—like he’d been hit in the head with a steel beam. Then she kissed him again. “Stay safe, Cam. Your family and friends need you. I need you.”

His hands flexed on her, an intense look in his eyes. Like everything he was feeling was tangled up inside and he couldn’t get it out.

She heard the revving sound of the approaching engines.

“Get under the cabin, sweetheart.” He led her to the porch. “And take the pack.”

She dropped to her knees. “Do you have a gun?”

He shook his head. “But I have a knife. Now go.”

She wiggled under the cabin. The ground was cold, and there were a lot of spiderwebs. She guessed a spider or two were better than Mikhailov any day.

Cam crouched and handed her the backpack. The look on his face seared her with its intensity.

Then he rose and was gone.

Like a ghost.

Saskia crawled a little farther, then curled around an old wooden footing. She tried to stay calm, but that was proving impossible.

Then, the sound of engines grew louder.

She blew out a shaky breath. Her heart pounded in her ears.

The ATVs roared in, stopping in front of the cabin. She peered out, and watched denim-clad legs swing off the vehicles.

“Rogers, Ivanov, check the cabin.”

Saskia went rigid at the voice. Mikhailov.

She saw lots of pairs of rugged boots walking around. Two men thumped up the steps and into the cabin.

“They must be close,” Mikhailov said. “The woman can’t have gotten far.”

One of the guards spat on the ground. “She has someone helping her.”

“And she will be holding him back.”

Saskia clenched her hands together. There were three ATVs. Five guards and Mikhailov.

Cam was outnumbered.

“There’s no one inside, boss.”

Whoever was talking was American.

“But it looks like there was some disturbance,” another man said, his accent definitely Russian. “Could’ve been them.”

She watched Mikhailov’s shiny, clean boots take a few steps. “Search the area for any sign of them.”

Her stomach turned over. She wished they would just go. She willed them to leave.

Instead, all six men fanned out around the cabin.

God, Cam.

She rested her forehead against the rough wood. If any of the guards looked under the cabin, they’d likely spot her.

One man circled the cabin. Suddenly, she heard a noise. As she watched, she saw someone grab him. There was a quick scuffle, and the guard was dragged into the trees.

Cam.

“Hey, Alek, anything?” Another guard circled around the shack. She watched the man’s feet stop, and he turned in a circle. “Alek? Where the fuck are you?”

The others all hurried around. One guard crouched and Saskia stiffened. If he turned his head, he’d see her.

“There are scuff marks in the dirt.” The man rose.

“They’re here!” Mikhailov exclaimed. “Find them. I want the woman.”

Around the other side of the cabin, she saw movement. Cam was doing something to the ATVs. Then he was gone again.

“I’ll take an ATV and do a loop,” the American guard said. “They could be on the run.”

The guard leaped onto one of the bikes. Nothing happened.

“Fuck. It won’t start.”

“Check the others,” Mikhailov shouted.

“Nothing. The son of a bitch tampered with them.”

Mikhailov growled. “Find them!”

The guards strode out to the trees. Saskia followed one with her gaze. He stepped into the trees, and something fell on him. She saw Cam ride the man to the ground, then quickly slice with a knife. The guard slumped, and didn’t even have a chance to make a sound.

Then Cam dissolved into the woods.

“Yuri! Yuri is down.” Three of the guards raced over to the fallen man.

“Throat’s cut,” one of them snapped.

She sensed the tension in the men. Saskia bit her lip. There were only three guards to go.

She felt a trickle of hope. If anyone could do this, it was Cam.

“There. I saw something in the trees.”

Gunfire erupted. Saskia clamped her hands over her ears.

“There he is!”

Cursing in Russian. “Shoot the asshole.”

She heard running steps. Boots raced past the cabin.

Her chest hitched. Cam.

There was more gunfire. She spotted his boots, then saw him jerk and go down on one knee.

No. Was he hit? How bad?

He didn’t look her way. There was blood running down his arm.

Cam. She willed him to get up.

Then the three guards were on him. They kicked and hit him.

Saskia winced. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

“Bring him,” Mikhailov yelled.

Two of the guards hauled Cam up and dragged him over to Mikhailov.

CAM JERKED against the guards holding him. One rammed a vicious punch into his lower back.

Gritting his teeth, he rode through the pain. He’d had plenty of training and experience at it.

As long as they didn’t find Saskia, everything would be fine.

The two guards he’d killed were laid out by the disabled ATVs.

Mikhailov stepped forward.

He didn’t look quite as neat and put together as he usually did. He was bundled up in a thick coat, his face lined with stress.

“Where is the woman?” the man asked.

Cam didn’t make a sound.

Mikhailov’s face twisted. “My men know many ways to inflict pain.”

Cam just stared impassively.

“Hmm.” Mikhailov paced. “There is no need for your blood to spill, Mr. Morgan. Just tell me where she is.”

Cam waited him out. These assholes always liked the sound of their own voices.

Mikhailov grunted and waved a hand.

The third guard stepped in and punched Cam in the gut.

He groaned. That wasn’t fun.

“I know you’ve had military training. I promise you, it won’t help. My uncle was former FSB, or KGB as it was known in his time.” Mikhailov’s smile was slow. “I know lots of tricks.”

Cam just lifted his chin.

“You are a noble man.” Mikhailov nodded, like a friendly, understanding uncle. “You feel the need to protect women. I know you were in some secret American military team, but it won’t help you now. You’re all alone.”

“Secret team?” the American guard asked.

“I could not find all the information.” Mikhailov waved a hand. “Some rumors said it was called Ghost Ops.”

The American jerked. “Ghost Ops. Fuck.”

The guard blanched and Cam hid his satisfaction. You should be afraid.

“Do not worry,” Mikhailov said. “He is not so scary now.”

“Ghost Ops…they can do anything.” The American guard sounded shaken.

“Pfft, he is outnumbered.” Mikhailov stepped closer. “You can’t protect her from me. I will have her.”

“You can’t have her,” Cam said. “Because she’s mine. She’s been warming my bed, taking my cock. Mine. Always will be.”

Mikhailov growled. A vein in his temple throbbed. He turned to the guard beside him and took the man’s hunting knife.

“You should not have touched my dancer, Mr. Morgan.”

The older man ran the tip of the knife across Cam’s unscarred cheek. It stung.

“I think you need another scar here. Even things up.”

Cam forced himself to stay still.

“My uncle said the best way to convince people to talk is to keep things simple. Slice off an ear—” the knife moved past Cam’s ear, then down the side of his neck. “Nose. Or other vulnerable body parts.” The knife moved lower. Then Mikhailov jammed it against Cam’s genitals. He couldn’t help but jerk.

“No man wants to lose his cock and balls, Mr. Morgan. And out here, you’ll bleed to death.”

The knife pressed in harder. Cam made a choked noise.

“Where is she?”

Cam just stared, not uttering a sound.

“Take his pants off.” Mikhailov laughed. “I’ll start with his balls.”

Cam bucked, trying to fight the guard off as the man reached for his belt.

“Stop. Stop!”

No, dammit. His muscles solidified. “Saskia, no. Run.”

She crawled out from under the cabin, covered in dirt. She held her hands up, her face a mask of terror.

“Don’t hurt him,” she cried.

“Saskia.” Mikhailov turned to her. “Finally.” The man strode to her. “You’ve made my life very difficult.”

“Your life?” Her eyes sparked. “You kidnapped me, you shit-for-brains asshole. You’re a rapist.”

Mikhailov sucked in a breath.

“You think you’re special because you have lots of dirty money?” she continued. “The only way you can get a woman is to steal her, against her will. You are scum.”

Then he sank a hand into her hair and tugged. She cried out.

“Be quiet!” he snarled.

Cam jerked, and the two guards tightened their grip on him.

“I want payback.” Mikhailov lifted his other hand, yanked her coat’s zipper down, and reached inside to roughly paw at her breast.

Growling, Cam wrenched free, but the guards tackled him, driving him to the ground.

Two boots pressed into his back, keeping him pinned.

Mikhailov’s smile was smug and pleased.

“Now, I need to decide. Do I take you here, in the dirt, and make him watch? Or do I make you watch while I put a bullet in his brain?”

Saskia cried out.

Mikhailov took a handgun from one of his guards.

Fuck. Fuck. Cam tensed, his mind racing. He searched for a way out. If he died, Saskia would be left in Mikhailov’s hands. That was unacceptable.

He’d failed Kris, but there was no way he’d fail again. No way he’d fail Saskia.

He searched for any chance to attack.

But Saskia beat him to it.

She lunged and grabbed for the handgun.

She surprised the man, snatching it away from Mikhailov. She whirled, lifting it with both hands. She fired at the guards. The bullet came close to Cam, but thankfully hit one of his captors.

One guy dived away and the guy who’d been hit jerked back with a shocked yell. Cam broke free, rolled, and landed a hard kick to the other guard’s midsection.

The man flew back.

Cam leaped up and whirled. Saskia was playing tug-of-war with Mikhailov for the gun.

The other guard, the American, stood frozen, not sure what to do.

Cam attacked him. But he only got one hard punch in before the man recovered. They traded blows.

Then a gunshot echoed through the clearing.

Saskia.

Cam ducked, and landed another desperate hit. The guard doubled over with a grunt. Cam spun.

Mikhailov was clutching a bleeding arm. Saskia was still holding the gun.

“Get them!” Mikhailov screamed.

Cam raced toward Saskia. A guard tackled her. She hit the ground with a bone rattling force.

Cam kneed the man, but the guard with a bullet wound reappeared. He rammed the barrel of a gun into Cam’s lower back.

“Don’t move,” the man growled.

Freezing, Cam choked back a curse.

The other guard dragged a dazed Saskia to her feet. Her gaze met Cam’s.

There was defiance still there. He held her gaze.

“Blyad.” Mikhailov threw a hand up while his other one stayed pressed over the wound on his arm, blood oozing through his fingers. “Enough. She’s too much trouble.” He sniffed. “Kill them both.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Saskia stumbled to Cam. He yanked her close and she clung to him.

His heat and strength were reassuring, but they had no weapons. Tears pricked her eyes. Blood was running down his arm.

Mikhailov’s remaining guards fanned out in front of them.

“I want them both dead,” Mikhailov roared. “Leave them here to rot, for the birds and the bears to pick at them.”

Suddenly, everything came into sharp relief for Saskia—the sunshine, the scent of the trees, the warble of a bird. God, she didn’t want to die. “Cam.”

He pulled her against his chest.

“I…I want you to know that I love you.”

His gaze dropped to hers.

“That’s it,” she said. “No qualifiers. No particular bits that I love best. I just love you. Every part of you.”

His arms convulsed. His gaze flew away from her to the trees. The bird was still singing.

Then he pulled her even tighter. “It’s going to be all right.”

She had no idea how this was going to be all right.

Her fingers clenched in Cam’s jacket. Still, as she listened to the heavy beat of his heart, she was at least glad that they were together.

The guards lifted their guns and aimed at them.

Saskia choked back a cry. She saw Mikhailov watching, his eyes gleaming.

Shots rang out.

She squeezed her eyes closed. Shouts echoed through the clearing.

There was no searing pain. Nothing.

Suddenly, Cam shoved her. They hit the dirt, his big body covering hers, shielding her.

She turned her head and spotted black-clad figures racing out of the trees.

A big, muscular body charged in, slamming into one guard. He lifted his bearded head and Saskia gasped. Wolf.

Her brother’s second in command slammed several hard, unforgiving punches into the guard’s face.

Another man came out of nowhere. A little leaner, but moving fast. A garrote wire flashed over a guard’s head and the man pulled back. The guard clawed at his neck, choking, legs pummeling the ground.

The man’s attacker never let go. His dark-blue eyes were focused and intense.

Vander.

Off to the side, she caught a glimpse of Saxon taking down the third guard, with kicks and punches.

And then she saw a tall, powerful figure advance on Mikhailov.

The Russian stumbled back, spluttering. He picked up speed, trying to get to the trees.

Killian kept walking, his face set in harsh lines.

Her brother grabbed two knives off his belt and threw them in quick succession.

Mikhailov slammed into a tree, pinned by the knives, through both of his shoulders.

Saskia shifted restlessly.

“Stay down,” Cam whispered in her ear.

Killian strode up to Mikhailov. “You made some unforgivable mistakes, Mikhailov.” Killian’s voice was sharp and cutting, like a blade.

“Who are you?” the Russian man spluttered.

“They call me Steel.”

Mikhailov blanched. “No. You’re a myth. A ghost.”

“I’m flesh and blood.” Killian leaned closer. “Violence against women is inexcusable.”

At her brother’s tone, Mikhailov flinched.

“Abducting my sister was the act that signed your death warrant.”

All the color drained from Mikhailov’s face. His mouth opened and closed. “Sister?”

“My sister,” Killian confirmed.

“Sweetheart, your brother is a scary motherfucker,” Cam murmured.

“Um, I know.” Not that she’d ever seen him quite this frightening.

“You won’t hurt anyone else’s sisters.” Killian drew out another knife.

Mikhailov braced.

“And you won’t have a quick or easy death,” Killian drawled silkily. “I promised you to the feds. I believe the FBI and the CIA are fighting over you. They want all your secrets. And the secrets of your associates. You’ll be locked away in a top-secret prison.” Killian leaned close. “But watch your back, Mikhailov. I have contacts everywhere, and people who detest rapists.”

Mikhailov made a choked, terrified sound.

Killian turned, his black eyes burning. “Wolf?”

“I’ve got him.” Pulling a set of handcuffs off his belt, Wolf strode to Mikhailov.

Cam’s weight shifted off Saskia and he pulled her up.

When Killian took a step closer, Cam banded an arm around her waist, keeping her pinned against his chest.

Like a bird of prey, Killian’s gaze narrowed.

This was the feared black ops agent. The dangerous man. Killian “Steel” Hawke. Saskia swallowed. He rarely showed her this side, but she’d always known it was in him.

She wondered how much of his true self her brother kept hidden from the world. Would he ever let down his guard enough to find a woman he’d show all of himself to?

She realized that Killian and Camden had more in common than she’d guessed.

Killian cocked his head. “You going to let me hug my sister, Morgan?”

Cam’s arms tightened.

She patted his forearm. “It’s okay, Cam.” She turned and kissed his jaw.

Ignoring the sound Killian made, she walked over and hugged her brother.

“Hi,” she murmured.

His arms closed around her. In that moment, he was just her brother—not the former agent, killer, or head of Sentinel Security. Just Killian.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Thanks for the rescue.” She pulled back, smiling.

“It was a joint effort.”

“Hey, Saskia.” Wolf appeared. He pulled her in for a long hug, and she held on tight.

“Thanks for coming, Nick.”

“Anytime, gorgeous.”

Suddenly, she was yanked backed into Cam’s arms. He and Killian faced off again.

“She’s coming back to New York with me,” Killian said.

“No, she’s not,” Cam growled.

Nearby, she saw Vander and Saxon look at each other. The only sign of Vander’s reaction was a slight quirk of his eyebrow. Saxon was openly grinning.

“She needs to go home,” Killian said.

God save her from overprotective men she loved. “I want to stay with Cam,” she said softly.

God, realization hit her. They were alive. Beautifully and vibrantly alive.

The danger was gone.

They’d been through hell, and came out the other side. Cam hadn’t said the words, but she knew her scarred protector loved her.

Saskia turned, threw her arms around Cam’s neck and kissed him.

He was still for a millisecond, then he hauled her up, and kissed her back.

CAM DRANK HER IN.

They’d made it. The danger to her was finally gone.

He squeezed her hip and pulled back.

He glanced at the four men watching them. Saxon was smiling. Vander’s lips curved faintly. Wolf was scowling, brawny arms crossed over his chest. And Killian was blank-faced, which didn’t hide the fact that Cam was pretty sure the man wanted to kill him.

Saskia leaned into his side. “How did you guys find us?”

“We traced Cam’s call to a nearby ranch,” Vander said.

“We figured Morgan had gotten you out,” Killian said. “Wolf and I were already incoming from the East Coast. Vander and Saxon flew in from the West Coast. Once we got here, I put up one of Hex’s drones. We found you just a little after Mikhailov did.” Killian skewered the moaning man with a sharp look.

The handcuffed Mikhailov was bleeding badly from the knife wounds, and in pain. Cam couldn’t bring himself to care. After everything the asshole had done to Saskia, had planned to do to her…

Cam met the man’s gaze. He let Mikhailov see the full force of what he felt.

Mikhailov’s gaze dropped to the ground.

“I want him dead,” Cam growled.

Saskia’s hold on him tightened. She pressed her palm flat over his gut.

“We’re going to hand him over to the feds. They’ll question him, and he’ll go to prison.” Killian’s voice lowered. “And he’ll have to watch his back for the rest of his miserable life.”

Damn, the guy was scary.

“We finally met someone scarier than you, Norcross,” Saxon said, echoing Cam’s thoughts.

Vander grunted.

“So, he just gets to live out a cushy life in prison?” Saskia snapped, her eyes sparking.

“Where he’s going is hardly cushy,” Killian said, dryly.

Cam was sure Mikhailov was destined for some harsh, secret prison. He couldn’t see Hawke being happy unless the guy paid the full price for his actions.

“After everything he’s done.” Saskia threw her hands in the air. “All the women he’s hurt, violated, and probably murdered?” She wrenched free of Cam and darted toward Mikhailov.

“Saskia—” Cam lunged for her.

But she was wound up and determined. She kicked Mikhailov in the gut.

The man groaned. She kicked him between the legs. And kicked him again.

The sound he made had even Cam wincing.

“Okay, sweetheart.” Cam picked her up. She struggled, legs kicking.

“He deserves so much worse than this,” she growled.

“I know, but I’m more worried about you right now,” Cam said.

She clamped her legs around his waist. He slid his hands under her ass, holding her. The fury drained out of her, and he pressed his forehead against hers.

“Take me home, Cam,” she whispered.

“I will.”

He saw Killian watching them, and then after a moment, the man nodded.

Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but Cam didn’t give a shit.

“Our SUVs are not far from here,” Vander said. “We came in on foot.”

Cam set Saskia down.

“I’ll drive one back,” Wolf said, his voice a deep rumble.

“I’ll come with you.” Saxon joined the man.

It wasn’t long before the joint Norcross-Sentinel team had the dead bodies, zip-tied guards and Mikhailov loaded in Vander’s vehicle.

Saxon temporarily patched the bullet graze on Cam’s arm to stop the bleeding. He might need some stitches, but it would do for now. Cam helped Saskia into the back of a black Jeep Grand Cherokee.

Nearby, Killian held a hand up. A small drone—like nothing Cam had ever seen before—flew down and the man grabbed it out of the air. Cam had seen a lot of high-tech military stuff before, but nothing like the small, sleek device.

“One of Hex’s toys,” Saskia said. “Sentinel does a lot of cybersecurity. They have good gadgets.”

“You all right?” he asked.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, so trusting. Getting comfort from him.

The cold knot in his gut was gone. It had untangled and thawed out. He couldn’t help but think Kris would be happy for them.

Man, she’s way too good for you, Morgan. Hold on to her. Make her happy.

They turned onto the road.

“Where are we exactly?” There were stunning mountains in the distance, but the dense trees and ranches didn’t help narrow it down.

“Just outside of Red Lodge,” Killian said. “The ranch belongs to a Russian-American businessman. He owed Mikhailov some favors.”

Vander’s vehicle with the prisoners was in front of them. Wolf was driving their SUV, with Killian in the passenger seat.

“We’ll get you on the jet, and we’ll be home in a few hours.” Then, once they were alone, Cam wanted to tell her again that he’d fallen in love with her.

She smiled, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

He dropped a quick kiss to her lips.

“Quit kissing my sister.”

Cam looked up. Killian was staring straight ahead.

“Nope.” Cam kissed her again, and Saskia giggled.

“Guy’s got balls,” Wolf muttered.

Fifteen minutes passed, then Cam sensed the two men in front tense. He looked up.

“We have company,” Wolf murmured.

Cam looked back over his shoulder. Three black Mercedes SUVs were speeding up behind them.

“Fuck,” Killian spat.

The lead vehicle overtook them and swerved in front of Vander’s. Another pulled alongside them, and the other blocked them in from behind.

Cam gripped Saskia.

“What now?” she groaned.

“Hawke, I need a gun,” Cam said.

Wolf slammed on the brakes. Their little convoy came to a halt on the empty road.

“You won’t need a gun, Morgan.” Killian shoved open his door and stepped out of the vehicle. He stalked around and headed toward the central Mercedes.

“What the fuck is going on?” Cam asked.

Ahead, he saw Vander and Saxon step out of the SUV, Glocks in hand and held by their sides.

“Feds,” Wolf said.

The back door of the central Mercedes opened, and a woman got out.

She wore a black turtleneck and slim, black pants. Russet-red hair was pulled up in a bun, with bangs brushing over a beautiful face. She had sharp cheekbones, a sculpted nose, and sunglasses covering her eyes. She wasn’t smiling.

Killian strode toward her. The woman strode to meet him.

Saskia leaned forward. “Who is that?”

“The bane of Steel’s existence, and the object of all his desires,” Wolf muttered.

Saskia snorted. “I didn’t know you enjoyed historical romance shows, Wolf.”

The big man blinked and looked back at her blankly. “What?”

“That phrase—”

“Hex said it,” Wolf growled.

“Oh, well.” Saskia’s gaze moved back to her brother facing off with the redhead.

Some sharp words were clearly being traded.

“She’s FBI?” Saskia asked.

“No.”

“CIA?”

“Not exactly,” Wolf said.

Killian leaned in. Unconcerned, the woman crossed her arms and lifted her chin.

“He’s toast,” Cam murmured.

“Yep,” Wolf agreed.

A moment later, agents spilled out of the Mercedes. Mikhailov and his goons were transferred to the government SUVs.

Then the redhead smiled, swiveled, and sauntered back to her vehicle.

Cam was in love with Saskia, but only a dead man wouldn’t appreciate that view.

Killian got back in the vehicle, anger throbbing off him.

“You were going to hand Mikhailov over anyway.” Wolf said.

“Just drive,” Killian snapped.

Cam smiled and kissed the top of Saskia’s head. She was watching her brother and grinning.

CHAPTER TWENTY

As the private jet rolled to a stop, Saskia jolted awake.

She was half sprawled on Cam. God, she hoped she hadn’t drooled on him.

Across from her, Vander sat, legs stretched out in front of him, and eyes closed. His hands rested over his flat stomach. Asleep, she could actually look at him without the force of his nature making her nervous. He was really good-looking, even with his rough edge.

Nearby, Saxon was sitting in an armchair doing something on his phone.

She turned her head. Surprisingly, Wolf and Killian had come, too. Her brother had sent the Sentinel Security jet back to New York.

He said he wanted to spend more time with her. She figured he’d just glare at Cam some more, and make sure she was safe.

One thing she’d never doubted was her brother’s love. He was cool and controlled, but he always made sure she knew he was there for her.

He raised his head and caught her gaze. He winked at her.

She smiled back.

Then Cam ran a hand down her arm.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

She rose and the men stood too. God, all four of them were tall, built, and far too attractive.

It was the afternoon already. She looked out the plane window at the tarmac. She could hardly believe that this whole terrible situation was over.

Mikhailov was gone, and never coming back.

She was safe.

It might take a little while for it to sink in.

Cam walked ahead of her and onto the stairs. He jerked to a halt, and she almost ran into the back of him.

“Cam?”

He muttered a curse, but was smiling. He pulled her ahead of him.

Saskia gasped.

The entire Norcross gang was gathered at the base of the plane’s stairs, several cars parked nearby. Everyone and their partners, including Ace and Maggie and their baby, stood there. The tech guru was cradling the tiny baby in a sling against his chest.

“Saskia!” Savannah pushed forward, Hunt a step behind her.

Saskia hurried down the stairs. Savannah engulfed her in a huge hug. Then they were mobbed by Haven, Harlow, Gia, and Sofie. Brynn and Siv stood to the side, smiling. All the men were there, too.

“God, I’m so glad you’re okay.” Savannah had tears in her eyes. “I brought you fresh clothes.”

“You’re a goddess,” Saskia said.

“I got you makeup, and things for the bath.” Harlow held up a bag. “It sounds like you’ve earned a good soak.”

Haven smiled. “I brought you some books.”

“I got you new lingerie.” Gia winked, smiling.

“I have a basket of gourmet food for you,” Sofie said.

“And we got the booze,” Siv said, nudging Brynn.

“Some excellent wine,” the detective added.

“What do I need all of this for?” Saskia asked, taking Cam’s hand.

Ace moved forward. “Because,” he said, “we arranged for the presidential suite at the Fairmont Hotel for you and Cam for a few days. No interruptions.”

Warmth filled her. She saw the surprised look on Cam’s face.

Ace jerked a thumb. “Easton paid for it.”

The billionaire just smiled.

Vander slapped Cam’s shoulder. “You’ve earned a few days off, Morgan.”

Saskia grinned up at him. “What do you say?” A few days alone with Cam—with no bad guys, hot sex, and room service. It was a dream come true.

He touched her cheek. “I’m in.”

“Do not kiss her where I can see,” Killian said, disgruntled.

Saskia wrinkled her nose, but her smile widened.

“Brynn and I will have a dinner at our place tomorrow night,” Vander said, gaze going straight to his woman.

Smiling, the dark-haired detective headed his way. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Come on, Hawke,” Vander said to Killian. “We’ve organized a hotel for you and Wolf, too.”

It wasn’t long before Cam and Saskia were dropped off at the Fairmont, and whizzed up to the presidential suite.

“Oh, my God.” Saskia walked into the opulent living area. The wraparound windows showcased incredible views of the city skyline, the Bay, and the bridges. There was a cool brass telescope by the window that she planned to test out later. The furniture was sleek and sophisticated, but still looked comfortable.

She stood at the window, feeling like she was on top of the world.

“Go and shower, sweetheart. Get comfortable. I’ll order us some room service.”

She nodded at Cam. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world.

There was no one hunting them. No one who’d shoot at them or blow them up.

Saskia showered in the luxurious bathroom and washed her hair twice. Afterward, she dug around in the bags everyone had given them, and pulled out a sexy baby-doll nightgown made of sheer, pink-purple lace. She pulled it on with matching panties. It was outrageously sexy.

Cam had music playing when she entered the living room. He’d showered too, his feet bare and his hair damp.

“I ordered—” He turned and stared.

Oh, she hoped he always looked at her like that. “Sit down, Camden.”

Obediently, he dropped into an armchair, never taking his gaze off her.

She moved over to the music player and changed the song. A strong beat pumped out.

Gracefully, she dropped to her knees and let the music flow through her. She moved, arching her back. She flowed to her feet.

Then she danced.

She leaped and spun. She lifted her leg as if she were doing the splits, and tipped her head back.

She whirled and looked at Cam.

He was leaning forward, hands dangling between his knees, hot gaze locked on her.

The music swelled and she moved again, letting everything she felt—relief, love, desire—fill her.

She didn’t need a stage or applause to enjoy her dancing. It was inside her.

She arched her back, her arms above her head.

As the song ended, she dropped to her knees in front of him, her heart pounding.

“Come here, Saskia.” His voice was deep, vibrating with something she couldn’t quite read.

She rose and walked toward him. Couldn’t look away from his green gaze.

He pulled her down on his lap. When he winced, she frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Just some bruising from the bullets.”

She shifted, careful not to bump him. The memory of almost losing him made her swallow against a sudden lump in her throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “Your dancing is like magic, but I couldn’t care if you never danced another step. I love you. All of you, no qualifiers.”

“Cam.” Tears of happiness welled.

“I love what’s inside you.” His hand slid down her body. “I’m still not sure I’m what you deserve—”

She hissed, ready to argue.

He pressed a finger over her lips. “But I’ll spend every day trying to be the man you deserve, who loves you, who makes you happy.”

Her man. Her lover. Her protector.

“I love you, Camden. You already are and do.”

He kissed her. Together, they rose.

“Shall we test out the enormous bed in the master?” he murmured.

“Yes, please.”

They headed for the bedroom.

CAM GRABBED a beer from the bucket of ice, then scanned the party.

Vander had the doors to his huge roof terrace open, despite the chilly air. There were several fire pits burning at strategic locations across the deck.

The women were all huddled on outdoor chairs around one, cocktail or wine glasses in their hands.

Saskia wore a dark-green dress that hugged every inch of her. It had a high neck, long sleeves, and hit at midcalf, but was so tight it was sexy as hell.

He couldn’t wait to peel it off her later.

They’d spent most of the last twenty-four hours in bed in their suite—making love and making plans.

“You look happy.”

He turned to see Brynn. His cousin sipped on a glass of red wine.

“I am.”

She smiled. “You sound surprised.”

“I wasn’t happy a week ago. Funny how life can change in the blink of an eye.”

“I totally get that.” Her gaze found Vander, who was talking with Ryder and Siv. “Hold on and enjoy the ride, Cam.”

He nodded.

“Did you two work things out?” she asked.

“Saskia’s moving here.”

Brynn beamed. “That’s great news. Savannah will be elated to have her best friend close.” Brynn cocked her head. “What about her dancing?”

“She says she’s ready to retire. It’s hard on the body, and her knee’s been giving her trouble for a while.” He still wasn’t sure it was the right decision, but he’d seen no hesitation in her. “She thinks she might open a ballet school.”

“That’s awesome, Cam.”

He saw Saskia rise. He followed her gaze and saw Killian and Wolf had arrived. She went over and hugged her brother and his friend. As Wolf went to get a drink, Saskia and Killian moved to the railing. The city was a beautiful backdrop behind them.

Saskia talked and Cam saw Killian frown.

Yeah, Hawke probably wasn’t happy that his baby sister was moving to the other side of the country to move in with a guy.

“Better be careful.” Brynn patted Cam’s arm. “I’m pretty sure Killian could kill you, and we’d never find your body.”

Cam tapped her nose. “Thanks for the advice.”

She went to join the ladies. They were all currently taking turns holding baby Isabel. Ace was hovering, looking ready to snatch his daughter back, much to Maggie’s amusement.

Killian broke away, and headed toward Cam.

Cam sipped his beer, seeing Saskia shoot her brother’s back an exasperated look.

“Morgan.”

“Hawke. Remember my brothers are here, and one’s a cop. Pretty sure we can take you.”

“I doubt that.” Killian slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “No man is good enough for my sister.”

“Agreed.”

The former spy speared him with a look. “At least I know you’ll keep her safe. You proved that with the Mikhailov situation.”

Cam’s tense shoulders relaxed a little. “I’d give my life to protect her.”

Killian nodded. “Good.”

“I love her. I’ll never be good enough for her, but I’ll make sure she never wants for anything.”

There was a flare in Killian’s dark eyes, and the man nodded. “You make her unhappy, and I’ll make you regret it.” Then he looked past Cam, his brow creasing. “I think Saxon is trying to recruit Wolf.” He took a step away, then paused. “Thank you for taking care of her when I couldn’t.” He stalked off.

Okay, that was pretty close to a seal of approval. Cam sipped his beer again.

It was his mom who wandered over next, and slid her arm through his. She’d been busy chatting with Vander’s parents.

“Hey, Mom.” He kissed her cheek.

“All my babies in one place. Safe, happy, in love.”

He heard the watery tone and knew she was happy. He didn’t point out that her babies were all well over six feet tall and had served in the military.

“I really, really like your Saskia, Camden.”

“Me too. I love her.”

His mom sniffed. “I can see that. I couldn’t ask for a better woman for you. She loves you. It’s written all over her.”

He squeezed his mom’s arm. “I’m okay, Mom.”

She pressed her face to his shoulder. “I know. It makes me so happy. It was such a struggle for you, but watching you find your feet…I’m so proud of you, Camden. Your father would be, too.”

He felt his heart kick hard in his chest.

“And I’m sure Kris would be thrilled for you.” She stroked Cam’s arm. “He’d say you won the lottery in your beautiful ballerina.”

“Yeah, he would.” The punch of grief wasn’t quite so sharp. He’d always miss his friend, but he could remember the good times, too.

After the heart-to-heart with his mother, Cam grabbed some food off the tables inside. Mrs. Norcross had outdone herself as usual. The woman loved to cook.

Back on the terrace, he saw Saskia with Killian and Wolf. Wolf was on his cell phone and looking extremely unhappy. He snapped something and blew out a breath. He said something to Killian, then stalked off the deck.

Cam wandered over. “Everything all right with Wolf?”

“His little sister called,” Saskia said. “Her best friend is a successful CEO. She started Pintura.”

Cam raised a brow. Even he’d heard of the popular online design website.

“Apparently, the friend is having trouble,” Saskia continued.

“Trouble?”

“She’s getting threatening notes and emails,” Killian said. “It’s escalated to death threats, to the point where Wolf’s sister has asked him to help.”

“Right,” Cam said.

“Wolf’s pissed it took them so long to call him,” Killian said. “Apparently this friend is like a sister to him. A close family friend. We have to head back to New York tomorrow.” Killian pointed at Cam. “Take good care of my sister, Morgan, or I’ll be back before you want me to be.”

“Kill.” Saskia rolled her eyes.

He hugged her, and when she hugged him back, there were tears in her eyes.

“I’ll miss you,” she said.

“I’ll see you soon.” Killian ran a hand over her hair. “And keep tabs on you.”

That got him another eye roll. Then she slid under Cam’s arm. He loved how perfectly she fit there.

Killian held out a hand and Cam shook it.

“Aw, my two favorite men making friends,” Saskia said, with a grin.

Cam and Killian scowled at each other.

Saskia just laughed. It was Cam’s favorite sound. He planned to keep her doing it for the rest of their lives.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A few days later

“How do I look?” Saskia turned.

“Gorgeous,” Gia said.

“Stunning,” Harlow pronounced.

Haven eyed Saskia’s dark blue tutu and pointe shoes. She sighed. “I want to be a ballerina when I grow up.”

Gia nodded. “I think Saxon would totally dig me in a tutu.” She gave a saucy wink. “Or enjoy taking me out of it.”

“Well, I’ll give you all free lessons at my school,” Saskia said. “Once it’s up and running.”

“You’re really planning to open a ballet school?” Siv asked.

Saskia nodded. “I’m going to start looking for spaces as soon as I can.”

“It’ll be amazing,” Savannah said. “And I’m going to do some artwork for it.”

Which would be amazing. Her best friend was so excited for Saskia to be in San Francisco and starting her own business.

“Saskia, thank you so much for dancing at the charity event tonight.” Sofie looked stunning in a designer, green dress. “Especially on such short notice.”

They were all crowded inside the small dressing room where Saskia was getting ready to dance.

“It’s my pleasure. It’s for such a good cause.” Sofie’s charity event was raising money for mental health programs for children. Saskia thought of her mom and felt a small pang. Early intervention could mean some people didn’t have to suffer like her mother had.

“Okay, we’d better take our seats.” Brynn clapped her hands. The detective was wearing a column of black silk that highlighted her fit body. “Or our hot guys, who are extra hot tonight in their tuxes, will get mobbed by lust-crazed women.”

After the gang had all moved out, with hugs and kisses and wishes of good luck, Saskia headed for the stage. Three background dancers in white costumes were waiting.

“Saskia.” A beaming Addie hurried over, her blonde hair slicked back in a bun.

They hugged. “I’m so glad you could make it for this.”

“I could hardly say no to a request to dance from a princess. Besides, Princess Sofia flew me over in business class. It was fabulous.”

Saskia smiled. She really liked Addie. “I’m sorry I’m not in New York. We could hang out if I were.”

“Me too.” Addie squeezed Saskia’s hands. “I would never have guessed something good would come out of being abducted. But meeting you, not to mention the fact that I have an audition for On the Street next week, with Davison James…that’s pretty good in my books.”

“I know what you mean.” Saskia had gotten a man she adored and a new life in San Francisco out of this ordeal.

The music started.

“Time to dance,” Saskia said.

Addie and the other dancers did their thing, gliding gracefully out onto the stage. Saskia watched them, smiling.

Then it was her turn.

She moved across the stage, the music filling her. It was lively, uplifting.

She whirled, lifting her arms. Thanks to the bright lights, she couldn’t see the audience, but she felt Cam watching her. Felt his attention. His protection. His love.

She soared into a jeté, then she whirled, her arms up and leg back.

The music ended, and a second later, the crowd erupted. Saskia straightened and smiled. She would always have dance, in all its many forms. She didn’t care how she did it, or if there was a crowd or no one watching, it would always sing to her.

And now, she also had a man who loved her.

She focused on the front row and spotted the Norcross gang. Brynn had been right. The men were far too delicious in their tuxedos.

She saw Cam standing, clapping and staring at her. Smiling.

She smiled back.

Once the applause had died down, she dipped in a graceful curtsy, then hurried off to her dressing room.

There was a huge bouquet of mixed flowers from Sofie waiting for her. She leaned in and sniffed. They smelled fabulous.

Eager to get to the others, she quickly stripped off her costume and pulled on a silky white robe. She set to work wiping off her makeup.

Suddenly, the door opened and Cam slid inside. He was holding a small bunch of calla lilies and a box of her truffles.

“You were magnificent, sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” She smelled the flowers and set them aside. Then she slid her arms around his neck.

The kiss was hot and divine. Heat coiled in her belly, mixing with the dancing high.

He stroked his fingers across her cheek. “I was going to ask if you were sure you wanted to give this up.”

She pulled back, frowning. “Cam—”

His other hand squeezed her hip. “But then you looked at me, and I don’t need to ask anymore.”

She smiled. Her man was finally getting it. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I love watching you dance. You’re so talented. When you do some of that stuff—” He shook his head in amazement.

“Stuff like this?” She lifted her leg up and onto his shoulder. Her robe fell open.

His eyes fired, skating over her naked body. “Baby.” He slid his hands under the silk, and then his mouth was on hers.

“Cam.” She pressed into him.

He groaned and lifted her onto the dressing table. Something fell off and smashed. She laughed.

There was a hard knock at the door. “Ah, sorry to interrupt.” It was Ryder’s amused voice. “But mom is on her way out with flowers for Saskia, and the rest of the gang will descend before too long.”

“So get dressed,” Siv added. “There’s no time for hot sex.”

Cam pressed his forehead to Saskia’s and groaned.

“And I don’t need to hear my brother having hot sex,” Ryder added.

Saskia rested her head on Cam’s shoulder, fighting back the giggles. He kissed her temple.

“Later, you’re all mine,” he growled. “I have some interesting positions to test out that flexibility of yours.”

Saskia laughed. Her life was so full now. It wasn’t just dancing. Now, she had new friends, a new business to build, and this man.

A man who’d love and protect her for the rest of their lives.

She nipped his bottom lip. “Later.”

“YEAH. Thanks for that. It’s been super helpful. Bye.” Cam hung up his desk phone.

He was back at work. Saskia was at his place, busy organizing to ship her stuff out from New York.

Life was good.

There was a knock at the office door and Rhys poked his head in. “Hey, Cam, I’ve got a lead to follow. Want to tag along?”

“I can’t, man, sorry. I’m meeting Saskia for lunch.”

Rhys smiled and waggled his eyebrows. “Lunch. Right.”

Shaking his head, Cam waved the man off. He grabbed his keys and cell phone off his desk, then headed out of the office.

Saskia had texted him an address where he was supposed to meet her for lunch. It wasn’t too far away.

He jogged down the stairs to the parking level, and walked toward his brand-new, gray Jaguar F-Type.

He’d finally picked out a car.

Saskia had helped, and he had to admit that the sports car was a sweet ride.

He jumped in and sped out of the Norcross parking level. He and Saskia had talked about buying a place of their own, as well. They were still debating whether they should get a condo, townhouse, or house. And what location would work best for them.

Instead of his usual low-grade dread, Cam felt excitement about the idea.

He’d also been ring shopping with his mom the day before. He hadn’t found the right one yet. He wanted the perfect design for the woman he loved. He kept reminding himself they had time, there was no rush. He wanted the perfect ring, and then he’d think of the perfect proposal. He wanted to make Saskia his in all ways.

He pulled to a stop at the address she’d given him. He looked at the building and frowned. It was a little rundown, with no sign of a restaurant. He saw renovation work being carried out on the upper levels.

Maybe he had the wrong address?

Then he saw Saskia push open the glass doors and wave at him.

Cam climbed out of the car. She looked good enough to eat. She wore fitted, dark jeans, and a white shirt, covered by a dark-gray fitted jacket with buttons that made it look vaguely military. Her black hair was loose.

“Hey.” She went up on her toes and kissed him.

“Hey.” He looked at the building. “I thought we were having lunch?”

“We are.” She took his hand and pulled him inside.

It smelled musty. The large space had likely been a store in a previous life. Now it needed paint, urgently. In the center, a picnic blanket was laid out with the basket resting on top.

“What is this?” he asked.

“I grabbed lunch from this little delicatessen that Gia recommended. And this—” she paused dramatically and threw her arms wide “—is my new ballet school.”

She was beaming. Cam looked away and eyed the place dubiously.

“Okay, okay, I can see that you aren’t that impressed. The owner’s promised to do work to it, and the rent is just right.” She did a little wiggle. “You just need a little vision.” Her nose wrinkled. “And imagination.”

He listened as she went on and on, outlining her vision for the school.

“In the change rooms, I want some kiddy-size sinks. Out here, mirrors all along this wall, and on that wall—” she thrust out an arm “—I’ll get Savannah to paint a series of dancers in different poses. I’ll need an office in the back.”

And instantly he could see it. He could also see her passion and excitement.

Saskia really wanted this. He walked over to her. “Sweetheart, it sounds amazing.”

Her smile was as bright as the sun. “Then I’ll sign the lease today.” With a squeal, she jumped on him.

As always, the kiss turned hot, and a little out of control.

When they broke apart, she was a bit dazed.

“Come and have lunch.” She licked her lips. “Plus, I have another surprise.”

He let her tow him to the picnic blanket.

When she whirled, she fiddled with her hair, looking nervous.

He frowned. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Whatever was wrong, he’d make it right.

“Camden, will you marry me?”

He blinked at her.

She grabbed his hands. “I love you and you love me. I’m so excited for our life together. I know we haven’t been together long—”

He growled and yanked her against his chest. “No.”

Her face went blank. “What?”

“I’m going to propose to you.” He was annoyed now. “I’m already planning it. I haven’t found the right ring, but I will.”

Her smile came back. “Did I ruin your plans, soldier?”

He nipped her lips. “Yes. I think that deserves some punishment.” He ran his mouth down her neck.

She moaned, clinging to him. “We can’t have sex right now. We only have just enough time to eat, then I have to go to the rehearsal for the dance tonight.”

His hands clenched on her, and he groaned. Sofie had talked Saskia into yet another last-minute dance performance at another charity thing tonight. That meant Cam had to drag his tux out again.

Still, he’d get to see Saskia dance.

He kissed her nose. “I can’t wait to watch you dance.” Another kiss, right on her mouth. “But I’ll be more excited to get my gorgeous ballerina home and naked in our bed.”

She smiled up at him, love shining in her eyes. “I love you, Camden.”

He knew she did. It was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him.

His broken pieces were all back together. They were still cracked, and didn’t all fit the same way, but he knew Saskia didn’t care.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Now let’s eat.”

I hope you enjoyed Cam and Saskia’s story!

Want to see a little more of Cam, Saskia, the Norcross gang, and perhaps a wedding? Read The Protector Bonus Epilogue: GET MY EPILOGUE

It isn’t a complete goodbye to Norcross Security (we’ll see the Norcross gang again in the future) but for now, we’ll be heading across to New York to get to know Killian Hawke and Sentinel Security team.

Look for the first Sentinel Security book, Wolf, starring Nick “Wolf” Garrick as he finds himself protecting his little sister’s tempting best friend, coming in August 2022.

For more action romance (and some more cameos by Killian Hawke and Vander Norcross), check out the first book in the Billionaire Heists trilogy, Stealing from Mr. Rich (Zane Roth’s story). Read on for a preview of the first chapter.

Don’t miss out! For updates about new releases, free books, and other fun stuff, sign up for my VIP mailing list and get your free box set containing three action-packed romances.

Visit here to get started: www.annahackett.com

PREVIEW: STEALING FROM MR. RICH

Monroe

The old-fashioned Rosengrens safe was a beauty.

I carefully turned the combination dial, then pressed closer to the safe. The metal was cool under my fingertips. The safe wasn’t pretty, but stout and secure. There was something to be said for solid security.

Rosengrens had started making safes in Sweden over a hundred years ago. They were good at it. I listened to the pins, waiting for contact. Newer safes had internals made from lightweight materials to reduce sensory feedback, so I didn’t get to use these skills very often.

Some people could play the piano, I could play a safe. The tiny vibration I was waiting for reached my fingertips, followed by the faintest click.

“I’ve gotcha, old girl.” The Rosengrens had quite a few quirks, but my blood sang as I moved the dial again.

I heard a louder click and spun the handle.

The safe door swung open. Inside, I saw stacks of jewelry cases and wads of hundred-dollar bills. Nice.

Standing, I dusted my hands off on my jeans. “There you go, Mr. Goldstein.”

“You are a doll, Monroe O’Connor. Thank you.”

The older man, dressed neatly in pressed chinos and a blue shirt, grinned at me. He had coke-bottle glasses, wispy, white hair, and a wrinkled face.

I smiled at him. Mr. Goldstein was one of my favorite people. “I’ll send you my bill.”

His grin widened. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I raised a brow. “You could stop forgetting your safe combination.”

The wealthy old man called me every month or so to open his safe. Right now, we were standing in the home office of his expensive Park Avenue penthouse.

It was decorated in what I thought of as “rich, old man.” There were heavy drapes, gold-framed artwork, lots of dark wood—including the built-in shelves around the safe—and a huge desk.

“Then I wouldn’t get to see your pretty face,” he said.

I smiled and patted his shoulder. “I’ll see you next month, Mr. Goldstein.” The poor man was lonely. His wife had died the year before, and his only son lived in Europe.

“Sure thing, Monroe. I’ll have some of those donuts you like.”

We headed for the front door and my chest tightened. I understood feeling lonely. “You could do with some new locks on your door. I mean, your building has top-notch security, but you can never be too careful. Pop by the shop if you want to talk locks.”

He beamed at me and held the door open. “I might do that.”

“Bye, Mr. Goldstein.”

I headed down the plush hall to the elevator. Everything in the building screamed old money. I felt like an imposter just being in the building. Like I had “daughter of a criminal” stamped on my head.

Pulling out my cell phone, I pulled up my accounting app and entered Mr. Goldstein’s callout. Next, I checked my messages.

Still nothing from Maguire.

Frowning, I bit my lip. That made it three days since I’d heard from my little brother. I shot him off a quick text.

“Text me back, Mag,” I muttered.

The elevator opened and I stepped in, trying not to worry about Maguire. He was an adult, but I’d practically raised him. Most days it felt like I had a twenty-four-year-old kid.

The elevator slowed and stopped at another floor. An older, well-dressed couple entered. They eyed me and my well-worn jeans like I’d crawled out from under a rock.

I smiled. “Good morning.”

Yeah, yeah, I’m not wearing designer duds, and my bank account doesn’t have a gazillion zeros. You’re so much better than me.

Ignoring them, I scrolled through Instagram. When we finally reached the lobby, the couple shot me another dubious look before they left. I strode out across the marble-lined space and rolled my eyes.

During my teens, I’d cared about what people thought. Everyone had known that my father was Terry O’Connor—expert thief, safecracker, and con man. I’d felt every repulsed look and sly smirk at high school.

Then I’d grown up, cultivated some thicker skin, and learned not to care. Fuck ‘em. People who looked down on others for things outside their control were assholes.

I wrinkled my nose. Okay, it was easier said than done.

When I walked outside, the street was busy. I smiled, breathing in the scent of New York—car exhaust, burnt meat, and rotting trash. Besides, most people cared more about themselves. They judged you, left you bleeding, then forgot you in the blink of an eye.

I unlocked my bicycle, and pulled on my helmet, then set off down the street. I needed to get to the store. The ride wasn’t long, but I spent every second worrying about Mag.

My brother had a knack for finding trouble. I sighed. After a childhood, where both our mothers had taken off, and Da was in and out of jail, Mag was entitled to being a bit messed up. The O’Connors were a long way from the Brady Bunch.

I pulled up in front of my shop in Hell’s Kitchen and stopped for a second.

I grinned. All mine.

Okay, I didn’t own the building, but I owned the store. The sign above the shop said Lady Locksmith. The logo was lipstick red—a woman’s hand with gorgeous red nails, holding a set of keys.

After I locked up my bike, I strode inside. A chime sounded.

God, I loved the place. It was filled with glossy, warm-wood shelves lined with displays of state-of-the-art locks and safes. A key-cutting machine sat at the back.

A blonde head popped up from behind a long, shiny counter.

“You’re back,” Sabrina said.

My best friend looked like a doll—small, petite, with a head of golden curls.

We’d met doing our business degrees at college, and had become fast friends. Sabrina had always wanted to be tall and sexy, but had to settle for small and cute. She was my manager, and was getting married in a month.

“Yeah, Mr. Goldstein forgot his safe code again,” I said.

Sabrina snorted. “That old coot doesn’t forget, he just likes looking at your ass.”

“He’s harmless. He’s nice, and lonely. How’s the team doing?”

Sabrina leaned forward, pulling out her tablet. I often wondered if she slept with it. “Liz is out back unpacking stock.” Sabrina’s nose wrinkled. “McRoberts overcharged us on the Schlage locks again.”

“That prick.” He was always trying to screw me over. “I’ll call him.”

“Paola, Kat, and Isabella are all out on jobs.”

Excellent. Business was doing well. Lady Locksmith specialized in providing female locksmiths to all the single ladies of New York. They also advised on how to keep them safe—securing locks, doors, and windows.

I had a dream of one day seeing multiple Lady Locksmiths around the city. Hell, around every city. A girl could dream. Growing up, once I understood the damage my father did to other people, all I’d wanted was to be respectable. To earn my own way and add to the world, not take from it.

“Did you get that new article I sent you to post on the blog?” I asked.

Sabrina nodded. “It’ll go live shortly, and then I’ll post on Insta, as well.”

When I had the time, I wrote articles on how women—single and married—should secure their homes. My latest was aimed at domestic-violence survivors, and helping them feel safe. I donated my time to Nightingale House, a local shelter that helped women leaving DV situations, and I installed locks for them, free of charge.

“We should start a podcast,” Sabrina said.

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t have time to sit around recording stuff.” I did my fair share of callouts for jobs, plus at night I had to stay on top of the business-side of the store.

“Fine, fine.” Sabrina leaned against the counter and eyed my jeans. “Damn, I hate you for being tall, long, and gorgeous. You’re going to look way too beautiful as my maid of honor.” She waved a hand between us. “You’re all tall, sleek, and dark-haired, and I’m…the opposite.”

I had some distant Black Irish ancestor to thank for my pale skin and ink-black hair. Growing up, I wanted to be short, blonde, and tanned. I snorted. “Beauty comes in all different forms, Sabrina.” I gripped her shoulders. “You are so damn pretty, and your fiancé happens to think you are the most beautiful woman in the world. Andrew is gaga over you.”

Sabrina sighed happily. “He does and he is.” A pause. “So, do you have a date for my wedding yet?” My bestie’s voice turned breezy and casual.

Uh-oh. I froze. All the wedding prep had sent my normally easygoing best friend a bit crazy. And I knew very well not to trust that tone.

I edged toward my office. “Not yet.”

Sabrina’s blue eyes sparked. “It’s only four weeks away, Monroe. The maid of honor can’t come alone.”

“I’ll be busy helping you out—”

“Find a date, Monroe.”

“I don’t want to just pick anyone for your wedding—”

Sabrina stomped her foot. “Find someone, or I’ll find someone for you.”

I held up my hands. “Okay, okay.” I headed for my office. “I’ll—” My cell phone rang. Yes. “I’ve got a call. Got to go.” I dove through the office door.

“I won’t forget,” Sabrina yelled. “I’ll revoke your best-friend status, if I have to.”

I closed the door on my bridezilla bestie and looked at the phone.

Maguire. Finally.

I stabbed the call button. “Where have you been?”

“We have your brother,” a robotic voice said.

My blood ran cold. My chest felt like it had filled with concrete.

“If you want to keep him alive, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

Zane

God, this party was boring.

Zane Roth sipped his wine and glanced around the ballroom at the Mandarin Oriental. The party held the Who’s Who of New York society, all dressed up in their glittering best. The ceiling shimmered with a sea of crystal lights, tall flower arrangements dominated the tables, and the wall of windows had a great view of the Manhattan skyline.

Everything was picture perfect…and boring.

If it wasn’t for the charity auction, he wouldn’t be dressed in his tuxedo and dodging annoying people.

“I’m so sick of these parties,” he muttered.

A snort came from beside him.

One of his best friends, Maverick Rivera, sipped his wine. “You were voted New York’s sexiest billionaire bachelor. You should be loving this shindig.”

Mav had been one of his best friends since college. Like Zane, Maverick hadn’t come from wealth. They’d both earned it the old-fashioned way. Zane loved numbers and money, and had made Wall Street his hunting ground. Mav was a geek, despite not looking like a stereotypical one. He’d grown up in a strong, Mexican-American family, and with his brown skin, broad shoulders, and the fact that he worked out a lot, no one would pick him for a tech billionaire.

But under the big body, the man was a computer geek to the bone.

“All the society mamas are giving you lots of speculative looks.” Mav gave him a small grin.

“Shut it, Rivera.”

“They’re all dreaming of marrying their daughters off to billionaire Zane Roth, the finance King of Wall Street.”

Zane glared. “You done?”

“Oh, I could go on.”

“I seem to recall another article about the billionaire bachelors. All three of us.” Zane tipped his glass at his friend. “They’ll be coming for you, next.”

Mav’s smile dissolved, and he shrugged a broad shoulder. “I’ll toss Kensington at them. He’s pretty.”

Liam Kensington was the third member of their trio. Unlike Zane and Mav, Liam had come from money, although he worked hard to avoid his bloodsucking family.

Zane saw a woman in a slinky, blue dress shoot him a welcoming smile.

He looked away.

When he’d made his first billion, he’d welcomed the attention. Especially the female attention. He’d bedded more than his fair share of gorgeous women.

Of late, nothing and no one caught his interest. Women all left him feeling numb.

Work. He thrived on that.

A part of him figured he’d never find a woman who made him feel the same way as his work.

“Speak of the devil,” Mav said.

Zane looked up to see Liam Kensington striding toward them. With the lean body of a swimmer, clad in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, he looked every inch the billionaire. His gold hair complemented a face the ladies oohed over.

People tried to get his attention, but the real estate mogul ignored everyone.

He reached Zane and Mav, grabbed Zane’s wine, and emptied it in two gulps.

“I hate this party. When can we leave?” Having spent his formative years in London, he had a posh British accent. Another thing the ladies loved. “I have a contract to work on, my fundraiser ball to plan, and things to catch up on after our trip to San Francisco.”

The three of them had just returned from a business trip to the West Coast.

“Can’t leave until the auction’s done,” Zane said.

Liam sighed. His handsome face often had him voted the best-looking billionaire bachelor.

“Buy up big,” Zane said. “Proceeds go to the Boys and Girls Clubs.”

“One of your pet charities,” Liam said.

“Yeah.” Zane’s father had left when he was seven. His mom had worked hard to support them. She was his hero. He liked to give back to charities that supported kids growing up in tough circumstances.

He’d set his mom up in a gorgeous house Upstate that she loved. And he was here for her tonight.

“Don’t bid on the Phillips-Morley necklace, though,” he added. “It’s mine.”

The necklace had a huge, rectangular sapphire pendant surrounded by diamonds. It was the real-life necklace said to have inspired the necklace in the movie, Titanic. It had been given to a young woman, Kate Florence Phillips, by her lover, Henry Samuel Morley. The two had run away together and booked passage on the Titanic.

Unfortunately for poor Kate, Henry had drowned when the ship had sunk. She’d returned to England with the necklace and a baby in her belly.

Zane’s mother had always loved the story and pored over pictures of the necklace. She’d told him the story of the lovers, over and over.

“It was a gift from a man to a woman he loved. She was a shop girl, and he owned the store, but they fell in love, even though society frowned on their love.” She sighed. “That’s true love, Zane. Devotion, loyalty, through the good times and the bad.”

Everything Carol Roth had never known.

Of course, it turned out old Henry was much older than his lover, and already married. But Zane didn’t want to ruin the fairy tale for his mom.

Now, the Phillips-Morley necklace had turned up, and was being offered at auction. And Zane was going to get it for his mom. It was her birthday in a few months.

“Hey, is your fancy, new safe ready yet?” Zane asked Mav.

His friend nodded. “You’re getting one of the first ones. I can have my team install it this week.”

“Perfect.” Mav’s new Riv3000 was the latest in high-tech safes and said to be unbreakable. “I’ll keep the necklace in it until my mom’s birthday.”

Someone called out Liam’s name. With a sigh, their friend forced a smile. “Can’t dodge this one. Simpson’s an investor in my Brooklyn project. I’ll be back.”

“Need a refill?” Zane asked Mav.

“Sure.”

Zane headed for the bar. He’d almost reached it when a manicured hand snagged his arm.

“Zane.”

He looked down at the woman and barely swallowed his groan. “Allegra. You look lovely this evening.”

She did. Allegra Montgomery’s shimmery, silver dress hugged her slender figure, and her cloud of mahogany brown hair accented her beautiful face. As the only daughter of a wealthy New York family—her father was from the Montgomery family and her mother was a former Miss America—Allegra was well-bred and well-educated but also, as he’d discovered, spoiled and liked getting her way.

Her dark eyes bored into him. “I’m sorry things ended badly for us the other month. I was…” Her voice lowered, and she stroked his forearm. “I miss you. I was hoping we could catch up again.”

Zane arched a brow. They’d dated for a few weeks, shared a few dinners, and some decent sex. But Allegra liked being the center of attention, complained that he worked too much, and had constantly hounded him to take her on vacation. Preferably on a private jet to Tahiti or the Maldives.

When she’d asked him if it would be too much for him to give her a credit card of her own, for monthly expenses, Zane had exited stage left.

“I don’t think so, Allegra. We aren’t…compatible.”

Her full lips turned into a pout. “I thought we were very compatible.”

He cleared his throat. “I heard you moved on. With Chip Huffington.”

Allegra waved a hand. “Oh, that’s nothing serious.”

And Chip was only a millionaire. Allegra would see that as a step down. In fact, Zane felt like every time she looked at him, he could almost see little dollar signs in her eyes.

He dredged up a smile. “I wish you all the best, Allegra. Good evening.” He sidestepped her and made a beeline for the bar.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

Wine wasn’t going to cut it. It would probably be frowned on to ask for an entire bottle of Scotch. “Two glasses of Scotch, please. On the rocks. Do you have Macallan?”

“No, sorry, sir. Will Glenfiddich do?”

“Sure.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice said over the loudspeaker. The lights lowered. “I hope you’re ready to spend big for a wonderful cause.”

Carrying the drinks, Zane hurried back to Mav and Liam. He handed Mav a glass.

“Let’s do this,” Mav grumbled. “And next time, I’ll make a generous online donation so I don’t have to come to the party.”

“Drinks at my place after I get the necklace,” Zane said. “I have a very good bottle of Macallan.”

Mav stilled. “How good?”

“Macallan 25. Single malt.”

“I’m there,” Liam said.

Mav lifted his chin.

Ahead, Zane watched the evening’s host lift a black cloth off a pedestal. He stared at the necklace, the sapphire glittering under the lights.

There it was.

The sapphire was a deep, rich blue. Just like all the photos his mother had shown him.

“Get that damn necklace, Roth, and let’s get out of here,” Mav said.

Zane nodded. He’d get the necklace for the one woman in his life who rarely asked for anything, then escape the rest of the bloodsuckers and hang with his friends.

Billionaire Heists

Stealing from Mr. Rich

Blackmailing Mr. Bossman

Hacking Mr. CEO

PREVIEW: TEAM 52 AND THS

Want to learn more about the mysterious, covert Team 52? Check out the first book in the series, Mission: Her Protection.

When Rowan’s Arctic research team pulls a strange object out of the ice in Northern Canada, things start to go wrong…very, very wrong. Rescued by a covert, black ops team, she finds herself in the powerful arms of a man with scary gold eyes. A man who vows to do everything and anything to protect her…

Dr. Rowan Schafer has learned it’s best to do things herself and not depend on anyone else. Her cold, academic parents taught her that lesson. She loves the challenge of running a research base, until the day her scientists discover the object in a retreating glacier. Under attack, Rowan finds herself fighting to survive…until the mysterious Team 52 arrives.

Former special forces Marine Lachlan Hunter’s military career ended in blood and screams, until he was recruited to lead a special team. A team tasked with a top-secret mission—to secure and safeguard pieces of powerful ancient technology. Married to his job, he’s done too much and seen too much to risk inflicting his demons on a woman. But when his team arrives in the Arctic, he uncovers both an unexplained artifact, and a young girl from his past, now all grown up. A woman who ignites emotions inside him like never before.

But as Team 52 heads back to their base in Nevada, other hostile forces are after the artifact. Rowan finds herself under attack, and as the bullets fly, Lachlan vows to protect her at all costs. But in the face of danger like they’ve never seen before, will it be enough to keep her alive.

Team 52

Mission: Her Protection

Mission: Her Rescue

Mission: Her Security

Mission: Her Defense

Mission: Her Safety

Mission: Her Freedom

Mission: Her Shield

Also Available as Audiobooks!

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

Norcross Security

The Investigator

The Troubleshooter

The Specialist

The Bodyguard

The Hacker

The Powerbroker

The Detective

The Medic

The Protector

Billionaire Heists

Stealing from Mr. Rich

Blackmailing Mr. Bossman

Hacking Mr. CEO

Team 52

Mission: Her Protection

Mission: Her Rescue

Mission: Her Security

Mission: Her Defense

Mission: Her Safety

Mission: Her Freedom

Mission: Her Shield

Mission: Her Justice

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Treasure Hunter Security

Undiscovered

Uncharted

Unexplored

Unfathomed

Untraveled

Unmapped

Unidentified

Undetected

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Galactic Kings

Overlord

Emperor

Captain of the Guard

Eon Warriors

Edge of Eon

Touch of Eon

Heart of Eon

Kiss of Eon

Mark of Eon

Claim of Eon

Storm of Eon

Soul of Eon

King of Eon

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Galactic Gladiators: House of Rone

Sentinel

Defender

Centurion

Paladin

Guard

Weapons Master

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Galactic Gladiators

Gladiator

Warrior

Hero

Protector

Champion

Barbarian

Beast

Rogue

Guardian

Cyborg

Imperator

Hunter

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Hell Squad

Marcus

Cruz

Gabe

Reed

Roth

Noah

Shaw

Holmes

Niko

Finn

Devlin

Theron

Hemi

Ash

Levi

Manu

Griff

Dom

Survivors

Tane

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 www.annahackett.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I’m a USA Today bestselling romance author who’s passionate about fast-paced, emotion-filled contemporary romantic suspense and science fiction romance. I love writing 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.

I live in Australia with my own personal hero and two very busy, always-on-the-move sons.

For release dates, behind-the-scenes info, free books, and other fun stuff, sign up for the latest news here:

Website: www.annahackett.com