by Anna Hackett
Her mouth went dry. Down, girl.
He held up a mug. “For you.”
The scent of hot chocolate hit her and with a groan, she took it. She didn’t care if it was the middle of the night. Any time your life was a mess was the right time for chocolate.
His gaze moved over her slowly, taking his time.
Rowan’s skin tingled. When his gaze met hers, his eyes were filled with something hot and satisfied.
She perched on a stool and turned in his direction, tugging the hem of the shirt to make sure everything was covered. “What happened tonight?”
“I was going to ask you the same question.”
She dragged in a breath. “I was asleep on the couch and woke up. I heard someone in my room. They…they…”
Lachlan grabbed her hand.
His touch steadied her. “They shot at the bed with a silenced handgun.”
His fingers clenched on hers and she saw a muscle tick in his jaw.
“They just signed their death warrants.”
“Lachlan!”
His lips firmed. “Go on.”
“I crawled to the balcony door and got out. I climbed down. One of them, the guy with a scar on his eyebrow, said they just wanted to ask me some questions about the artifact.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t believe them.”
“Smart.”
“I got to the glass roof and they chased me. You know the rest. So? What’s going on?”
“One of those bad guys I mentioned to you on the jet-copter entered the game.”
Her stomach clenched. “Spell that out for me.”
“They want the artifact, and they want to know what it does. Likely, they would have tortured you to get the information they wanted, and then killed you.”
God. Rowan slumped forward, goose bumps breaking out on her skin.
Then Lachlan was there, nudging her knees apart and moving between them. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, Rowan. I promise.”
She stared into his handsome but scary face. She believed him. Lachlan had always kept his promises, even as a kid. And from what she could tell, he’d grown into a man who kept them, as well.
His fingers kneaded her shoulders. “I will protect you.”
She nodded, absorbing the warmth of him. It would be so easy to lean on him, depend on him.
“Time for you to get some rest,” he murmured.
Yes, far too easy to lean on him. And then when he walked away, which she knew he would do, it would tear her open. Lachlan would protect her from the bad guys, but it was up to her to protect herself from him.
Lachlan woke in his bed, sunshine peeking through the curtains, and a warm, curvy body snuggled against him.
Actually, Rowan was plastered half over him, a slim leg thrown over his, and her hand nestled on his bare chest. She was still asleep, her face relaxed and her lashes dark against her cheeks.
He should never have hopped in the bed with her. Even now, his body throbbed at the closeness. After they’d talked last night, she’d crashed. She’d climbed into his bed, wearing only his shirt, and been out like a light.
He’d checked on her later, his own exhaustion dragging on him. She’d been restless, clearly struggling with unpleasant dreams. He’d touched her arm, and she’d reached for him.
“Stay,” she’d whispered.
Lachlan had slid in beside her, and she’d wrapped around him and settled.
Now, with the sunlight giving her skin a golden glow, he breathed deep. She smelled like his soap. In his head, he kept seeing her dangling from that roof, kept seeing her falling.
He tightened his hold on her. Fuck. He pulled her closer and she stirred, snuggling into him. Then she froze.
She looked up, blue eyes blinking at him
“What are you doing in this bed?” she asked.
“It’s my bed. And actually, you asked me to join you.”
They stared at each other.
She gave a tiny shake of her head. “I can’t process this right now. I’ve got bad guys after me, my friends are dead, my life has gone crazy.”
She looked like she was about to hyperventilate. “Take a breath, Rowan.”
As she did, her breasts rose and fell under her shirt. His shirt. She pushed at her cloud of dark red hair. Damn, she was gorgeous.
Then her hand moved across his chest and her gaze dropped to watch it. Now he saw something different appear in her eyes. She deliberately stroked his skin.
“You must have, like zero percent body fat.”
Lachlan’s cock stirred.
She touched where his prosthetic arm met his skin. “Ty made this for you, right? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Lachlan nodded. “It’s experimental. It’s tied directly into my nerves and functions better than my other arm. Plus, it’s stronger, can react faster.”
Her gaze followed her fingers as she stroked the metal. The arm had some sensors, but he couldn’t really feel her touch.
“It still must have been hard to lose your arm,” she said quietly.
Screams echoed in his head. His fellow Marines and his own. The horrible pain. “Yeah.”
Her fingers stroked back up, showing no concern or disgust about his prosthetic. In fact, she looked fascinated. She caressed his chest again and now his cock went rock-hard. She kept stroking his chest, and now he definitely knew what was in her blue eyes—desire.
“Rowan—”
She stroked lower, her nails scratching over his abs. “I’ve never seen a man with a six-pack like yours before.” She looked closer. “Or rather an eight-pack.”
Lachlan curled up to sit. “Rowan.”
“I just want to forget everything, Lachlan. For a few damn minutes, I want to stop thinking.”
Before he could say anything, she leaped on him.
He caught her as she straddled him, and a second later, her lips smacked against his.
Damn. The last of his control slipped through his fingers like water. He opened his mouth and her tongue slid inside. Screw it. He kissed her back. She was so damn sexy, especially wearing only his T-shirt.
He ran his hands up her back and deepened the kiss. She moaned, her tongue sliding against his. He reversed his caress, stroking his hands down her body and cupping her ass.
“I love seeing you in my shirt.” His voice sounded like gravel.
“I love seeing you without a shirt.”
He rolled, pinning her beneath him. He pressed his hips to hers, his cock rubbing against her. That’s when he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties. Only the thin cotton of his boxer briefs separated them.
Rowan lifted her hips and let out a husky cry. “Yes.”
Lachlan bunched his hand in the shirt and started lifting it up. He was going to explore all that smooth skin.
His doorbell rang, followed by the thump of a fist on wood. Three sharp raps.
He froze and squeezed his eyes closed.
“No!” Rowan clutched at him. “Don’t stop.”
“That’s Blair. She was bringing your things over.” He glanced at the clock beside the bed and groaned. “We have a flight back to base in—” shit “—under an hour.”
Lachlan very reluctantly knifed off Rowan. She rolled off the bed, not meeting his gaze. “I’m going to shower.”
“Ro—”
“Heat of the moment.” She waved a hand at him, still not meeting his gaze. “I get it. You made it clear back at the base, and to be fair, you’re a risk I can’t afford.”
As she disappeared, Lachlan set his hands on his hips. What the hell did she mean by that? He stared at the closed door and wondered what the fuck he was doing.
He shook his head. Something had changed. Seeing her dangling off a building, her life in danger, had damn well changed everything.
He’d tried to push her away, but life had tossed them back together. She was in danger, and whatever the hell happened, he was going to keep her safe.
Lachlan heard the
bell again, and quickly yanked on his jeans and a T-shirt. When he yanked open the door, his best friend looked at his face, then raised a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”
“You have fucking bad timing.” He closed the door.
“I have excellent timing. Like the thirty or so times I’ve saved your ass in a firefight.”
Lachlan snorted. “Thirty, my ass.”
Blair handed him Rowan’s bag. “So, you and Rowan—?”
“Shut it and make some coffee.”
“Sure thing, sunshine.”
He dropped Rowan’s bag on the bed. The shower was still running, and images bombarded him. Sleek, slick skin. Wet, red hair.
When he headed back to the living room, Blair was in the kitchen making coffee.
His friend handed him a mug and looked like she was trying not to laugh at him. He was sipping the coffee when Rowan emerged. She was wearing jeans, a pale-blue shirt that matched her eyes, and her hair pulled up in a messy knot on top of her head. He reached over to pour another mug.
“Hi, Blair,” Rowan murmured.
Blair lifted her chin. “You okay?”
Rowan took the coffee that Lachlan handed to her. “Not really.”
Blair studied Rowan’s face and gave a short nod. “We’ll get you there.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Rowan looked at Lachlan.
“Time to get to the airport.”
Rowan was quiet for most of the drive. He drove them through a secure gate, nodding at the guards. He parked beside a nondescript hangar on a distant runway. When they exited the vehicle, Lachlan scanned the area, making sure no one was watching them.
He led Rowan into a small office area. Inside, a gorgeous blonde sat at the single desk.
“Morning, you guys.” She shot them a dazzling smile.
Rowan went still, blinking at the woman.
Lachlan had to admit that Kinsey was a bombshell and had a hell of a smile. “Rowan, this is Kinsey Beck. She takes care of things for us here in Vegas.”
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Rowan breathed.
Kinsey laughed and crossed her legs. “I was a wanna-be showgirl. I moved to Vegas, only to discover I wasn’t tall enough.” Her smile said she’d gotten over her shattered dreams. “Now I attempt to organize these badasses for a living.”
Axel and Seth appeared from a side door.
“Plane’s fueled,” Seth said.
“The pilots are ready to go,” Axel added.
“Where are Smith and Callie?” Rowan asked.
“Already at base,” Lachlan answered. “Callie wanted to check on Lars, and Smith avoids Las Vegas, if he can help it.”
Kinsey shook her head. “That mountain man is allergic to people.”
They made their farewells, and Lachlan led Rowan out the door. A sleek plane sat in the hangar.
As they climbed the stairs into the plane, he noticed Rowan still looked tired and worried. As his team boarded and settled into their seats, Lachlan sat beside her and grabbed her hand.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She gave him a small nod.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
The plane started taxiing.
She sighed. “I will be. I always am.” She gave him a strained smile. “I’m good at dealing with stuff and coming out the other side. I’m used to it.”
She sounded so resigned and so alone.
“You need to talk to your folks again?”
“No, they’re busy,” came the measured reply.
Anger shot through him.
“I’m sure they’ll send me an email when they can.”
Fuckers. He’d always hated her self-absorbed parents, but their only daughter had almost died, and they couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck? Rowan might be used to dealing with things herself, but not this time.
Chapter Nine
Rowan followed Lachlan and the rest of Team 52 back into the Area 52 base. As they headed toward the lab, she once again looked around in wonder.
The place really was a scientist’s dream workspace.
As they entered the lab, Ty Sampson looked up and scowled at them. From nearby, Brooks waved two fingers and smiled. Today his shirt had a picture of the Death Star on it and said “All about that base.”
Scans and high-res pictures of the artifact were displayed on the screens on the wall. Rowan’s mouth dropped open as she looked at them. Despite everything that had happened because of this artifact, she found herself fascinated by it.
Then she felt a flash of guilt. “Lars?”
“No change,” Brooks said, sympathetically.
Lachlan crossed his arms. “What have you found out about the artifact?”
Rowan’s gaze snagged on his muscled forearms. Instantly, she was back in Lachlan’s bed, wrapped up in him, kissing him. Jeez. Get a grip, Rowan. That had been a mistake. She needed to stay well clear of Lachlan Hunter.
“We’re still working on it,” Ty frowned. “The device appears to be part biological. It connects with the body and stimulates it, which in turn, increases strength, muscularity, ability to withstand cold temperatures.”
Brooks leaned forward. “It creates an armor-like casing around the person, made of ice.”
Ty nodded. “We’re theorizing that the Pre-Dorset people somehow engineered it to help their hunters adapt to the cold, and give them the ability to safely hunt larger sea creatures, like walrus and whales.”
Holy hell. Rowan dropped onto a stool. This was all so incredible. “So, the Pre-Dorset experimented with this, and by the time of the Dorset people, they’d stopped using bows and arrows and hunting smaller sea mammals…because they had this technology.”
“That’s the theory,” Ty said.
“But they didn’t even work metal.”
“Actually, Nat found some information on that,” Brooks said. “Seems there is evidence that the Dorset culture used and worked metal that they found from a meteorite, and tipped their spear blades with it.”
“You need to know that the way it appears to integrate with a host would make it hard to remove while a host is active,” Ty said.
Lachlan frowned. “It came off Lars easily. I just pulled it off.”
“But he was tranquilized and unconscious,” Rowan said.
Ty pressed his hands to the bench and nodded. “If the host is agitated, they’d be releasing hormones that would interfere with the artifact’s removal.”
“So the host needs to be unconscious or at least relaxed?” Rowan said.
Ty gave another nod.
Lachlan turned to Brooks. “And the guys who attacked Rowan?”
Rowan’s belly soured at the memory.
“I don’t know yet,” Brooks said. “They avoided the casino’s facial recognition system. I managed to get the police files courtesy of Detective MacKade. I should have something soon.”
Lachlan nodded, then he spun to face Rowan. “I have work to do.”
She shifted. “Is it okay if I see Lars?”
“Sure.”
When Rowan entered the hospital-like room off the lab, she felt as though a rock had lodged in her chest. Lars was resting in a bed, hooked up to various beeping machines. He looked so pale she could almost see through his skin.
She sat beside him, and wished she could see him give her that goofy smile again while he flexed his terrible flirting skills. She talked quietly to him, assuring him everything was going to be okay, when she really wasn’t sure if she was lying or not.
When the door opened and Brooks’ head appeared, Rowan had no idea how much time had passed.
“Ready for some lunch?” the man asked.
With a nod, Rowan followed Brooks into the rec room. Natalie was there, sitting at a bench, wearing another smart skirt in black and a red shirt. Her elegant legs were crossed, and she had a set of glasses perched on her nose. She had the sexy-librarian look perfected today.
The archeologist looked
up. “Hi, Rowan.”
“Where is everyone?” Rowan asked.
“Training exercise.” Brooks waved to a stool and strode over to the glass-fronted refrigerator, pulling out some pre-packaged salads.
He handed one to Rowan and proceeded to douse his with Ranch dressing. Rowan forced down a few mouthfuls, but toyed with the rest of the food, too churned up to eat. Brooks and Natalie talked quietly.
Suddenly, the door slammed open. Rowan’s head snapped up as an older man with a buzz cut stormed in. He had a grizzled face and wore black fatigues.
His faded blue gaze locked on Rowan.
“Hey, Arlo,” Brooks called out.
The man made a harrumphing sound. Rowan blinked. Brooks and Nat didn’t even react to the strong, unhappy vibes emanating from the man.
“See you’re in your usual good mood.” Nat winked at Rowan. “Arlo, this is Dr. Rowan Schafer. Rowan, Arlo takes care of the warehouse here.”
“Ah, hello.” Rowan fixed a polite smile on her face. Those blue eyes were pinned on her, assessing.
“Heard Hunter jumped off a building for you.”
Rowan didn’t think Arlo sounded particularly happy about that fact. “Lachlan strikes me as the kind of guy who’d do that for anyone.”
Arlo made another grumpy sound. “Come on, you’re with me.”
“I am?” She shot a wide-eyed look at Nat and Brooks, who were grinning. They waved as she slipped off her stool.
Rowan followed the man out of the rec room and down the hall. Her mouth dropped open when she noticed the huge double doors to the warehouse were wide open.
The cavernous space was filled with row upon row of black shelves that rose all the way up to the ceiling, looming high above. Black boxes and crates, of all different shapes and sizes, rested on them. Everything was made of matte-black metal.
As they passed over the huge threshold, she took in the enormous, high-tech locking mechanism on the door. From what she could see, all the crates had fancy locking mechanisms on them as well.
Wow. “All these crates store dangerous objects and ancient technology?” She followed Arlo down one of the rows. He grunted, which she took as a yes.
“The crates all have state-of-the-art bio-locks on them.” His voice was a step beyond gravelly. “Only a few people can open them. Myself, Hunter, Mason, and the director.”
