“Stay here.” The archeologist’s face was set in serious lines, and she held the gun with ease.
But she’d only taken two steps when the sound of something rolling made them both freeze. A metal object tumbled across the sleek floor.
Rowan stepped back. Bang.
Piercing noise. Flashes of light.
Bang. Smoke filled the air.
Her ears were ringing and she heard shouting, but it was muffled. Her eyes stung.
Rowan stumbled forward. She couldn’t see Nat, only gray smoke. Then she heard another sound.
God, were those gunshots?
Heart in her throat, Rowan staggered through the smoke, trying to find Nat. Suddenly, hands grabbed her from behind and lifted her off her feet. She kicked out, tears running down her face.
She was spun around violently, coming face-to-face with a big man wearing a red balaclava.
Not good. Rowan fought harder, kicking and trying to get her arms free. The smoke was just starting to clear.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something on the ground. A slim body. Oh, no, it was Nat. She was slumped on the rug, not moving.
“No!” Rowan kicked out, catching the man between the legs. He went down with a groan.
Spinning, she aimed for the door. She had to call Lachlan. Arms grabbed her again, and she found herself tossed up and over someone’s hard shoulder.
“Let me go!” she shouted.
Someone else stepped closer, and a dark cloth bag was pulled over her head, cutting off the light.
“Quiet,” a low voice filled with menace said. “Or I’ll put a bullet in you.”
Rowan bit her lip as she was carried out of Nat’s apartment. Shit.
* * *
Rowan found herself tossed in the back of what she guessed was an SUV. She yanked the bag off her head, and thankfully, no one complained.
Two men, faces hidden by red balaclavas, slid into the front seats. Out the windshield, she saw two other men dressed the same way get into a gunmetal gray sedan in front of them.
She quickly scanned the interior of the vehicle. All the windows were tinted and there were no door handles, no buttons, or handholds of any kind. The engine roared to life, and the two vehicles abruptly pulled out onto the road. Rowan was thrown back against the seat.
God, please let Nat be okay. Rowan’s stomach was rolling and she fought back her panic. Her eyes were still watering, stinging from whatever was in the grenade.
They sped down the busy Strip, the casinos whizzing past. Rowan cautiously ran her hands over the doors, hoping to find some way to open them. Nothing.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “Where are we going?”
The men ignored her. Dammit.
Think, Rowan. They get you far away from here, and you’re dead. Then, through the windshield, she spotted two black Suburbans speeding toward them.
It had to be Team 52. And they were about to speed past, with no idea that she was in here.
In about four seconds, Team 52 was going to be gone, and she’d end up somewhere very bad.
She didn’t think, she just knew she had to do something.
Rowan dived through the gap between the front seats and leaped on the driver.
She tried to grab the wheel. She’d surprised the driver enough that he swerved wildly. Curses filled the cab, and ahead, she saw brake lights flash on at the back of the sedan.
She grabbed the man’s balaclava and yanked on it.
More curses filled the air, and they almost rear-ended the sedan. The driver slammed on the brakes, and Rowan gripped on to the man to keep from flying into the windshield.
The man in the passenger seat grabbed at Rowan. She struggled, trying to hit him. Then the driver moved, elbowing her in the head.
Pain exploded through her face and, with a cry, Rowan slumped back in the seat, cradling her left eye. Ow.
“Sit fucking still.” The driver snapped at her, his balaclava askew. His face was surprisingly handsome in a strong-jawed, boy-next-door way.
The passenger swiveled and aimed a gun at her. “Do as he says, or I will shoot you.”
She glared at him. The driver righted himself, muttering more curses. He grabbed the wheel, and the vehicle jerked forward again.
They picked up speed, pulling back into traffic. Then the driver looked in the rearview mirror. “Motherfuckers.”
Rowan spun and her pulse leaped.
Two black SUVs were bearing down on them. Fast.
Rowan decided to strap in and clipped her seatbelt closed. The driver sped up, weaving wildly in and out of traffic. She heard horns honking and saw cars swerve out of their way.
The gray sedan moved alongside them and she watched the men in it signal her driver. Then it fell back, drawing closer to the lead Team 52 SUV.
God, what now? She saw the sedan’s windows lower, and guns were aimed at the black SUVs.
No. Her chest locked. Gunfire cracked through the air, and the SUV dodged. But what they didn’t do was slow down. They were still gaining speed.
Then, she spotted Blair hanging out one window, face composed, returning fire.
That’s when Rowan saw the second black SUV roaring forward. Her eyes widened. It was going to—
It rammed into the back of the sedan. The sound of screeching tires and more honking horns followed the crunch of metal on metal. The sedan veered into the median in the center of the road, and crashed into a palm tree.
“Fuck!” Rowan’s driver bit out.
“Keep going,” the passenger yelled. “Faster.”
Rowan looked back. Blair was still hanging out a window, firing at them.
Suddenly, Rowan’s SUV swerved, and the driver’s curses got damn creative.
“They hit a tire!” the driver yelled.
“Keep going. There’s more traffic ahead. Blend in.”
No. That was a terrible idea.
The driver turned sharply, tires squealing. They sped into the other lane, and Rowan was jerked against her belt.
They roared closer to the cluster of traffic ahead. The driver weaved in and out of cars and trucks. Vehicles swerved, and more horns honked.
Oh, God. They were going to crash.
Team 52 was right behind them and suddenly, the crumpled silver sedan rejoined the chase.
It sped recklessly toward one black SUV, with Blair still firing from the side. But as it drew alongside, Blair ducked back inside, and the SUV jerked toward the car.
It rammed into the side of the sedan. The car veered off the road. It bumped over a curb, and crashed into the driveway of the casino before smashing into a fountain. Water sprayed everywhere.
“Yes!” Rowan grinned.
The passenger swiveled and shot her a dirty look. She glared back.
“Shit,” the driver said.
Rowan looked up and saw a slow-moving RV right in front of them. The driver jerked the wheel to avoid it.
It swung them right up alongside one of the Team 52 SUVs.
Rowan saw Blair in the passenger seat, and Lachlan at the wheel.
She pressed her lips together. They’d come for her again. He’d come for her.
The other SUV pulled in close behind them.
Suddenly, the traffic cleared. Lachlan’s vehicle roared forward and then swung in front of them.
The SUV’s taillights flashed on.
Oh, shit. She braced herself, and heard the driver swear. They rear-ended the black SUV with a crunch of metal and breaking glass.
Rowan was tossed hard against her belt.
The man in the passenger seat wasn’t strapped in. He sailed through the windshield. The driver’s air bag went off with a bang. She heard him groaning.
Rowan’s ears were ringing again, and she shook her head a little to try and clear it.
Suddenly, the doors were yanked open. She watched the airbag deflate, and the driver was pulled out of the vehicle.
Her door opened, and she blinked up at Lachlan.
He reached in, unlatching her belt.
“Okay?” His face was set in hard lines, those gold eyes extremely pissed off.
She nodded as he helped her out. As soon as she was vertical, her knees gave way. Lachlan scooped her into his arms, and she held onto him.
“You’re not okay,” he muttered.
She slid her arm along his shoulders. “I am now.” Then she passed out.
Chapter Eleven
Lachlan paced his living room, watching Callie check Rowan over. She had an ugly bruise and swelling forming on the left side of her face.
Heat roared through him. One of those bastards had hit her. She was lucky she didn’t have a concussion or a broken cheekbone.
He’d just returned from dropping the men they’d captured off in the secure bunker beneath their hangar at the airport. They’d attempted to question the driver of the vehicle, but the man wasn’t talking. Lachlan had left him in Seth’s capable hands. The man was a hell of an interrogator.
“All clear.” Callie stood, pushing things back into her backpack.
Rowan attempted a smile. “Thanks, Callie.”
The medic reached out and gripped her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. From his seat on the couch, Axel leaned forward and patted Rowan’s leg.
“You rocked out there, chiquita.”
Lachlan frowned. “I think she’s been touched enough, Diaz.”
Axel lifted his hand and shook his head. From nearby, Blair tried unsuccessfully to hide her laugh.
“And you’re sure Nat is okay?” Rowan asked, concern on her face.
“She’s fine,” Callie assured her. “Pissed, but fine.”
“She alerted us as soon as her apartment was breached,” Lachlan said.
Axel muttered under his breath. “If she hadn’t leaped into the fight like a warrior princess, she might not have gotten conked on the head.”
Rowan tucked her hands into her lap. “These people need to be stopped. They don’t care who gets hurt and if they get their hands on the artifact…”
“Rowan—”
She stood, shaking her head at Lachlan. She turned, her hair whipping around. “I am sick and tired of being hunted down like a dog.” Her gaze met Lachlan’s, filled with quiet determination. “I saw the havoc that artifact wreaked. I won’t let it happen again. I am not going to cower and hide. I want to help you find it.”
“For now, you stay where I can protect you.” Lachlan didn’t explain to her exactly what kind of enhanced security his apartment had, but he knew she’d be safe here. Brooks had decked out the place with enough layers to ensure no one was getting in. He made a mental note to have him do the same to Nat’s place.
Rowan thrust her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to hide away and do nothing—”
“I don’t want you hurt.”
“And I don’t want more innocent people hurt.” She set her shoulders back. “I have several degrees, including a PhD. I can help you.”
Lachlan knew she was smart, but this was about keeping her alive. He cupped her jaw. “Rowan, if something happened to you…” Fuck, he was starting to realize he couldn’t stand that. How could she get so far under his skin in such a short time?
She stared at him. “No one’s ever cared if something happened to me. I’ve never been important to anyone.”
“Your damn parents made you feel that way,” he bit out. “That’s on them, not you, Rowan.”
“I always just thought that maybe I’m defective.”
“I care.”
Her eyes were huge as she stared at him.
“I don’t want you anywhere near this artifact or the people who are after it.”
She shook her head, like she was trying to clear it. “Please let me help. I need to help, for my people who died at Ellesmere. I trust you to keep me safe while I do.”
He stared into her blue eyes and realized how much she needed this. Some control back in this out-of-control situation.
“You can work with us and Brooks.”
She smiled.
“We need to find out more about the Red Wolves, who else is involved, and who has the artifact.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m out of here,” Callie said.
Rowan jerked, like she’d just remembered there were other people in the room. Lachlan sighed and looked at his team members. Yep, grinning like loons.
Callie headed for the door. “Get some rest, Rowan.”
Axel and Blair followed. His second-in-command caught Lachlan’s eye. “If I find anything, I’ll let you know.”
“See you guys in the morning.” Once the door closed, Lachlan checked the security system was up and running. Then, he moved back to where Rowan sat on the couch, and knelt in front of her. He gently touched the swelling on her face.
“I’m okay,” she said quietly. “Not even a headache.”
“You threw yourself on the driver.”
“I knew if they got away, I was dead.”
Dead. Fuck. The word reverberated inside Lachlan’s head, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He pulled her into his chest and she clung to him.
“Why don’t you have a shower?” he suggested. “I’ll take care of dinner.”
She glanced up at him. “You cook?”
“Nope.”
When she blinked, he smiled. “But I can order takeout like a pro.”
Now she laughed. It sounded tired, but it was a laugh. “Okay.”
After she’d wandered off toward his bedroom, Lachlan ordered Chinese from his usual place—one that he’d had vetted and where he knew all the delivery guys—and tried not to imagine Rowan naked in his shower.
He’d brewed some coffee by the time she returned. Her hair was wet and loose, and she was wearing the black robe he had hanging in his bathroom. A gift he’d never worn.
He handed her a mug and nudged her toward the couch.
“Thanks.” She wrapped both hands around the coffee and sipped. “I’m going to make you some of my special-blend of hot chocolate soon. Once you taste it, it’ll be all you want.”
“Never grew out of your chocolate addiction, huh?”
Her eyes looked over her mug. “Nope. I’ve honed it. Wait until I make you my brownies or my home-made chocolate pralines. The health benefits of chocolate are huge. Good source of antioxidants, can lower blood pressure and risk of heart disease, increase brain function.”
He laughed.
She kept staring. “You should do that more often.”
He tilted his head. “What?”
“Laugh.”
He dragged in a breath. “I guess I haven’t had much to laugh about for a long time.” The robe clung to her curves, and Lachlan tried to talk himself out of noticing. Dammit, she’d been hurt. She’d had a really rough few days.
But the desire—strong and unstoppable—hit him hard.
He’d almost lost her today. She’d just barely come back into his life, and—more than once—she’d almost been snatched away. Who the fuck knew what the assholes would have done with her? Lachlan had seen enough shit in his career to know it wouldn’t have been pretty.
His mouth pressed into a flat line. If they came for her again, he’d make them hurt. She was his to keep safe. Even if he had to lock her in his room at the base until this was over.
She looked up at him, her eyes widening. “Lachlan? Are you okay?”
“No.”
He stalked toward her, and she hastily set the mug on the coffee table.
“Do you want to talk?” she asked.
“Hell, no.” He knelt down in front of her again, but this time, he pushed her knees apart and moved closer.
Her robe parted a little, giving him a view of smooth, bare legs. They were slender and toned, and his cock surged.
“Hey.” She gripped the belt. “I’m naked under here.”
He froze. Now, his cock pressed hard against his zipper. He wrapped his hands around her calves and took a deep breath.
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Her breathing became uneven. “Lachlan.”
His gaze met hers. She stared at him, straight and direct. Then slowly, he slid his hands up her legs. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and as he reached the edge of the robe, he pushed it higher.
“This is probably a bad idea,” she said.
“I think it’s an excellent idea.”
“You told me you didn’t have time for this. For me.”
“I lied.”
Air whistled through her teeth. “You said you had nothing to offer.”
“Changed my mind.”
“What?” Her voice rose. “You can’t just change your mind.”
“I can when I see you get kidnapped. When I see you dangling off a fucking building or diving on drivers of speeding vehicles.”
She licked her lips, her gaze warming. “Lachlan.”
“I need to see you.” He leaned closer, parting the robe farther. “I need to see that you’re okay.”
She fell back against the couch, and the robe fell open, baring her. Damn, she was even prettier than he’d imagined. She had firm curves and toned muscles, but her skin was so pale and smooth. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. As his tongue stroked hers, she kissed him back.
Lachlan slid his hands down her body, cupping her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, Rowan.”
“No, I’m—”
“Yes.” He rolled her nipple between his fingers. “You are.”
As he played with her breasts, she writhed, pushing into his touch. “Oh, that’s so good.”
He dropped his head, sucking one nipple into his mouth. He played with it, nipping it with his teeth before moving to the other.
“Lachlan.” Her hands tugged on his hair.
He moved lower, sliding his mouth down her belly, scraping his teeth over her skin. She tasted so good, and smelled like his soap again. He nudged her legs apart. She wasn’t wearing any panties and the nest of dark-red curls was so damn pretty. He stroked her.
“Oh, God,” she murmured, jerking against him. “Please.”
“Please what?” He stroked her pink folds. Need slammed into him so hard he couldn’t think straight.
“More,” she panted.
Lachlan dropped his head and pushed her thighs wider apart. He licked her.
Mission: Her Protection: Team 52 #1 Page 11