Mission: Her Protection (Team 52 Book 1) Read online

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

  “Thanks, Lachlan.” She smiled at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  She looked up. “What the—?”

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

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

  “Their daughter almost died.”

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

  “Your parents are assholes, Rowan.”

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

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

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

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

  “Jonah.” He dropped into a chair.

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

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

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

  “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

  Lachlan knew he’d been dismissed.

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

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

  He got a forced smile. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I missed you, Lachlan.”

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

  “Rowan—”

  She looked up, her blue eyes filled with heat.

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

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

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

  “Ah, sorry to interrupt.”

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

  “Brooks.” The man had terrible timing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Thank you.”

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

  Rowan looked up at Lachlan. “Lachlan—”

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

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

  Shit. “Yes.”

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

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

  “I think you’re vulnerable right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I know,” he said darkly.

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

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

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

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

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

  Fuck.

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

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

  Chapter Seven

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

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

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

  She had never felt more alone than she did now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  She wondered what Lachlan and his team were doing.

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

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

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

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

  She blinked groggily in the darkness and heard a noise.

  Breathing.

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

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

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

  Her body jerked. God. Gunshots with a silencer.

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

  “She’s not here,” a voice muttered.

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

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

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

  “Maybe she’s down in the casino?”

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

  Suddenly, the bedroom was flooded with light.

  “There she is!” a man shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  And she knew they wouldn’t let her live.

  She wriggled in his hold.

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

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

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

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

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