“Wow, damsel in distress, hometown, high school reunion, probably family drama. What’s up with her? Who’d want to hurt her?”

Cowboy was still feeling the waves of tingles everywhere, hot and alive with sensation from Kia’s look as she climbed the stairs.

“Aren’t you chipper for getting no rack time for almost a day?”

“Help me with this kennel,” Tank said and blew out a breath. “I took a few twenty-minute power naps. Echo slept just fine. Fill me in.”

Cowboy followed him out of the house, and they got the pieces out of the back of Tank’s SUV. “I don’t know who the guy was in the alley trying to knife her, but it didn’t feel like a common mugging to me. The guy was trained.”

Tank frowned, his eyes narrowing. Cowboy was sure he was as pissed as he was to know some elite warrior had been sent after a seemingly innocent, defenseless woman. “As in spec ops?” He unlaced his boots and toed them off.

“Yeah, he had that feel.” They trundled the pieces into the guest room and set it up. Tank dropped the black bag that held Echo’s feed bowls, extra collars, grooming supplies and leads. He’d already set his dog food into the kitchen.

Tank whistled. “A freaking merc? Professional assassin? And her background? She owns a bar right?” He unzipped the bag and pulled out a soft fuzzy blue blanket and spread it on the black bottom of the metal wire enclosure. “Echo,” Tank called and the dog immediately responded. Tank pulled out a small bone and said, “Kennel.” The dog entered and Tank gave Echo the bone. He settled down while Tank latched the door.

They left the room. Triton was still by the fire and looked to be out for the night. “Not just that. She’s a hacker, one who’s not been so particular in her clients.”

Tank settled into one of the leather chairs. “Wow, a bad girl damsel. My favorite kind.”

Cowboy sat down on the cushy couch across from his team member. “We’re here to protect her. That’s all.”

“Right, I’m here to protect her. I believe you have a different agenda.”

He sighed. “Change of plans.”

His brown eyes gleamed. “What? Now that she’s in danger you don’t want to nail her?”

Leaning back into the couch and hooking his ankle across his opposite knee, Cowboy crossed his arms over his chest. “I swear to God, Tank.” His jaw was so clenched, his words came out as if under mountains of pressure, a tight growl. He’d known this was coming since he’d asked for Tank’s help. He’d just meant to confide in Kid, but as was typical, his teammates were as nosy and opinionated as old biddies.

Tank listened with an indulgent smile, rolling his eyes. “Fuck, you’re uptight. We all know you have a thing for this looker, so cut the crap.”

When he didn’t answer, Tank leaned forward. The guy was intense even when he was sleeping.

“It’s complicated.”

Tank laughed. “It’s body slots A into B. Everyone’s happy. Providing you know which is A and which is B.” He chuckled.

“Sex isn’t A into B, you Neanderthal. She’s not a hooker.” Cowboy didn’t bother to hide his irritation over Tank’s nonchalance when it came to sex. He was an earthy guy, Cowboy got that, but geez. This was Kia. His Kia. He could tell himself this was about protecting Kia, but that didn’t remotely explain why he couldn’t stop thinking about her, touching her, kissing her when he was the one to set the ground rules. He was chafing at the bit he set in his own mouth.

Tank’s smile turned knowing and grew wider. “Sure it is. It’s easy-peasy, man.” He set his hand through his dark hair. “You want her. Guys know these things because we’re guys and we have the same one-track minds, but you, my friend, keep everything under wraps and maybe you’re more afraid of showing her who you are than what goes into slot A or B or C for that matter.” After dropping that bomb on him without so much as a breath in direction change, Tank rose. “You know I am kind of hungry. What you got to eat?”

After going into the kitchen and showing Tank the fridge, he made a sandwich, bypassed the beer and went for the hard lemonade. Tank wouldn’t compromise his focus with alcohol, but the alcohol soft drink wouldn’t even faze that huge metabolism. He sat down at the table to eat it. He might be a Neanderthal, but he was one with manners. He chewed, his features thoughtful. He smirked. “Nice shirt. Girl power. I like it.”

Cowboy ignored him. That much was true, he was attracted to her. He did want to nail her if he was being crass, and Kia was definitely the opposite of him, bold, unconventional, outgoing and quirky. But something about the way she looked at him, and handled his attention, had definitely gotten to him in ways he didn’t want to understand. But his body certainly had. Which was the last thing he was going to share with the caveman here. “It doesn’t matter whether I’m attracted to her or not. What is important is that she’s got more going on than meets the eye. She’s in trouble, Tank. The kind that makes you dead.”

His features leveled out, finally serious. “What’s she into then? Did she tell you? Are you sure she’s as innocent as she looks?” He was all business now, and Cowboy finally relaxed a little.

“Thank you.” Cowboy shifted when a log dropped in the fire like the proverbial other shoe.

Tank grinned unrepentantly. “Oh, I’m far from being done needling you about this, but if you really think something is up here, I trust your judgment. I wouldn’t have gotten LT to release Echo to me or driven fifteen hundred miles in twenty hours if I didn’t. More importantly, Cowboy, I’ve got your six and hers, too. No one is going to harm her.”

He nodded. “I hate that she’s terrified, and she told me that she’s also had a break-in. I don’t think that was coincidental.”

“That son of a bitch is going to die, I swear.”

“Not if I get to him first.”

Tank’s jaw hardened. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Me either. As to her innocence, she told me she’s a Black Hat, but her clients are confidential.”

“DoD?”

“Yeah, it’s what I was thinking.”

“Could be some homeless vet in need of some cash. We could be reading more into it then there is.”

“Maybe.”

“Any activity since the attack?”

“No, nothing.”

“What’s our plan then? Lay low?”

“I wish. We have this reunion, and she’s part of it, so she’s adamant about keeping her promises.”

Tank polished off the sandwich. “What’s the schedule?”

He rose and went to her notebook and brought it back. Tank looked it over. “Hmmm, the only problematic functions on here are the car wash and tailgate football game. Anyone can get into those. The other functions look like they’re only for your former classmates.”

“That’s my thought, too.”

“Can she forego the car wash and tailgate?”

“I don’t think she’s going to agree with that.” Cowboy got a thought. “Then let’s use it to our advantage. We could flush the bastard out. He knows I’m here, but not you.”

“Yeah, an ambush. I like being a sneaky bastard.”

“Could give us some answers.”

“Yeah, I hope you like the answers you get.”

* * *

When Cowboy climbed the stairs, he was beat. They decided that Tank would also go to bed. If anyone came around, the dogs would alert them to any danger. He looked at her door, then decided checking on her would allow him to sleep better. Slipping into her room, he moved soundlessly across the covered rugs on the hardwood. As soon as he got close to the bed, he could hear her thrashing.

He rushed the rest of the way. “Whoa, darlin’,” he said gently as she came awake, made a soft sound and wrapped her arms around his neck. He couldn’t help noticing she was wearing the collar again. He wondered what significance it had to her. It was obvious it comforted her. But, for him, it turned him the fuck on.

“Wes.” She clung to him, holding him so tight, he ached to soothe her, erase the memory of her attack, allay her fears.

“You’re safe, sweet darlin’.”

He held her in the dim room as her body got heavy. What Tank had said to him held truth…more than a bit of truth. He closed his eyes and breathed her in. Dammit, the Neanderthal was freaking right. He had the kind of focus that wouldn’t budge no matter what he was doing, whether it was moving through jungle, going over a battle plan, or protecting one beautiful little freak.

So many years, he’d kept everything under wraps, learned to handle his emotions alone and in private. Ever since his dad had pulled that trigger, Cowboy had shut down. It was only becoming evident to him now how much he had cut himself off from life. Living alone, staying away from his family and keeping everything to himself.

What was he afraid of? He shifted and she clutched at him, her head coming up. Their eyes met in the dim light, and Cowboy was done, at the end of his rope, his patience. He’d come here for a second chance, and he was putting up roadblocks to taking the risk. It was so much easier to shut down, stay neutral. But what he hadn’t realized was that also numbed him.

Kia reached up and traced his face with her fingertips. “I used to dream about you being in my bed. I never, ever in a million years thought I’d have you here.”

Against his will and every ounce of his common sense, he looked down at her mouth.

And took a breath.

“Please kiss me,” she said in her bold, off-kilter Kia way as if she’d never grown out of that small-child-demanding way, her voice kind of raw and throaty, as if they’d already been kissing the heck out of each other for the last couple of hours.

Without the dark smudges at her eyes, her face hadn’t lost one ounce of its dramatic contrast, none of its beauty. Her lashes were half-mast over her stormy eyes, her lips a softer shade of pink. Her hair was wild, so Kia wild, as if she’d been heaved across pillows and dragged across mattresses, the way a guy might, if he was…crazy or lucky, or simply out of his ever-loving mind.

“Wes,” she breathed his name, her hands going to the button on his shirt and starting to undo them one by one.

He didn’t stop her. He was too busy thinking, remembering and wondering if she might be a practitioner of witchcraft, because he was not his normal, clear-thinking self. He felt a little bewitched, as if he were under some kind of spell.

He fought it a bit. “Condoms,” he said.

“I don’t have any, but I’m on the pill. It’ll be okay.”

She was pulling the rest of his T-shirt out of his pants and unbuttoning his cuffs, pushing his shirt off his shoulders. She was gone, over the edge, and the part of him that had resisted, let go.

She was sweet, hungry for him, needed him.

Needed him inside her.

Needed him to anchor her world.

Kia had barely changed from the girl he’d known. She still smelled like her, looked like her, acted like her and Christ, she still had the same mind-blowing effect on him.

But she wasn’t the same and neither was he, and he’d been taught a hard lesson in the most brutal way. Could people really be trusted?

He cupped her cheek and smoothed his fingers over her skin.

Hell, would they even still be together if he’d taken that risk?

He knew better than to kiss her, but he did it anyway—just let go of every freaking thing he thought was stopping him, tilted that impish face up to his and brought his mouth down on hers.

Heat, as hot and stirring as all get out, washed through him. He groaned with the pleasure of it, gave himself over to it. Her skin was so soft and he was breaking out in a sweat. He suddenly knew it didn’t matter that she was his charge. This wouldn’t compromise him one lick.

She wanted him, and deep, deep down inside in a dark place where he’d locked, bolted and chained the door and thrown away the key, he opened it up. At first it felt rusty, then it hurt, then it hurt so good, then it felt so damn good, so damn right.

He’d let his dad’s suicide stunt him emotionally. That included everything from friendship, except where it came to Kid, to allowing himself to love.

One of her hands slid through his hair, across the nape of his neck and up toward the top of his skull, holding him for her kiss. His brain was fogging. Her mouth was so soft, so silky. He clasped her around the waist and settled her on his lap, a hand on the silken softness of her thighs. Her other hand was sliding beneath his waistband, heading south, driving him wild, and he knew she was going to take him in her hand, stroke him, get him even harder than he already was and he was going to let it ride.

Let it fucking ride.

She called to him like a siren away from nights so dark he’d thought they’d never end, of fear and pain that had dogged him whenever he wasn’t vigilant. Of grief so deep, he was terrified to let it surface.

He’d gone into the navy to escape, to lick his wounds, to prop up his sagging pride. They had made him into something because he worked hard, took it into both his hands like a lifeline. In turn, they had honed him and enhanced him for near indestructibility.

Yeah, she’d seen right through him.

He was transparent to her.

He slid his hand around the back of her neck, and she captured him with her smoky-eyed gaze. Yeah, she wanted this.

Combing his fingers up through her hair, he closed his fist around a handful of silken strands and brought them to his face, and he breathed her in, the rich combination of all she was: the girl of his forgotten dreams.

She intrigued him like no other, enchanted him, everything about her. If he couldn’t open up to Kia, if he couldn’t let go of his shame, he would die inside. He would shrivel up and expire without her. She was like air, water, light.

The navy had kept him on the move, and he had made no effort, none. He was on the hunt for America’s enemies, but deep down inside him, always on the hunt for her, the rarest thing on earth, a woman who knew him and cared.

After his dad’s betrayal, he lost track of who he’d been, but Kia hadn’t. She knew him. His longing for her had a past, and his need to be with her had taken on a life of its own.

Lowering his mouth to hers again, he kissed her, gently sliding his tongue inside when she opened for him. A small groan escaped her, and he deepened the kiss, the way a man does when he’s going all the way. And she knew it, her body softening against him in a thousand lush and lovely ways.

This was all he needed.

Her.

He’d needed to sink himself into the sweet mystery of a woman’s sensuality-this woman’s quirky, goth cowgirl with the backbone of steel.

She pulled off her T-shirt exposing those pierced breasts, the metal of little fairies glinting in the moonlight. Every part of him that was hard, got harder—the curvy mounds of her breasts beckoning him.

Grabbing her hands, he pulled them behind her, then manacled her wrists in one hand. He kissed her neck above the collar, then grasped it in his teeth and pulled. She groaned. Very gently he pushed against her wrists, using the pressure to arch her back until her nipples were jutting out hard, delicious nubs encased in metal and driving him crazy. He closed his mouth over one, and she cried out softly.

“Wes,” she whispered. “Pull on them. It feels so fucking good.”

He groaned softly, tugging.

She moaned, “After I had them done,” her voice barely-there breathless, “the ride home was so crazy, the vibration of the car erotic. Still in full adrenaline mode, I came so hard, I had to pull the car over.”

“Fuck, Kia,” he whispered. “Tell me what it feels like.”

He rasped his tongue against the hard tip. “Wrap your tongue around me,” she sobbed, “I’m coming. Oh, God…Wes.”

He sucked, and her body bowed while she shuddered. He grabbed her breast a little roughly, tightening his grip so her nipple thrust out even more. Using his tongue again, she cried out, the ecstatic sound of her guttural moans driving him wild. Her hips thrusting against him.

Cupping her face in his free hand, he pressed her back toward the headboard and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. She slipped into him like a drug as he opened his mouth wider, kissing her deeper, longer, exploring her. She sighed in his mouth all the while with that compelling, fascinating grip on the waistband of his jeans, the backs of her fingers brushing against his skin.

The wind whistled outside, he remembered that wind like an old friend the way it had blown across Sweetwater, rattling his bedroom window. The taste of her filled his senses, turning them on, heightening them even more than they had been. She moved with him, her body all curves and desire, the sheer eroticism of her running like high-powered, pure adrenaline from his heart to his groin.

The scent of her was so feminine, so profoundly rich. She was like a storm queen, all dark hair clouds and silver eyes power, gathering to strike him and infuse him with her domination.

“Wes,” she murmured, and for the first time in a long time he remembered he was Wes.

“Darlin’, sweet, sweet darlin’,” he whispered against her lips. I’ll protect you with my life.

He was finally in the here and now, in the moment with her, not in the past, not worrying about the future, but here.

“I’ve never felt…this feels…” Her voice trailed off, pressing out-of-control kisses to anyplace she could reach, the side of his face, along the length of his jaw, to his lips.

“Real,” he murmured. So real.

He remembered laying in a ditch in the wilds of Afghanistan looking up at the stars thinking Kia was seeing the same brightly lit sky. She was like a star, sinking into his cells, filled with light and air, beyond the physical, the lushness of her body, beyond the compelling enticement of her kiss, freeing him from the bondage of his own wasteland, his own loneliness, of always and forever being alone.

“I missed you,” she murmured. “Even if you weren’t mine, I missed you.”

She restlessly shifted her hips, and he cupped her bottom. “Let me go,” she demanded and he released her wrists for now. Her fingers went to the top button of his jeans.

“Wesley McGraw,” she whispered. “Cowboy.”

Yeah, that was him, the guy she was unraveling one button, one kiss, one seductive move at a time.

He reached down and yanked off her shorts, and her clever hands had unzipped and was shoving his jeans and boxer briefs over his hips. She pushed him over onto his back, and she rose, turning on the light. The glow from the lamp made him squint. She was looking down at him, her eyes not missing an inch of him.

“Oh,” she said, staring down at him. “Oh, my.”

It was surrender to the heat of the moment, the strung-out sweetness. It was hot and getting hotter with every soft kiss she pressed to his mouth, with every single sashay of her hand over his body, with every time he teased her with his fingers. She couldn’t get enough of touching him, her hands going over his chest and shoulders, molding over his biceps, trailing down his back, kneading his buttocks.

Her gaze made him ache with wanting her, sent a surge of pleasure through him. In a move that galvanized him, had his hips thrusting up from the mattress, she licked him from the base of his erection all the way to his head, taking the tip of him into her mouth. His hoarse, gruff cry burst from him.

He wanted to be careful with her. He wanted to take things slow, to really savor the taste and feel of her—next time.

This time glided past “caution” the moment he slid his hand between her legs, into the soft, secret warmth of her, into intimacy. He reared up, using a martial move on her that swept her knees out from under her. A SEAL ninja move that was pure commando.

He was a big man, covering her, drawing her leg up against his hip, making room for his large self in the cradle of her hips and he rocked against her.

“Ohhh,” she breathed, moving with him, pressing herself against him. When he was only partway in, she caught her breath on a small gasp, and he took it into his mouth as he kissed her. Feeling how ready she was for him, he plunged into her and her hips met his with the same frenzy.

“So slick,” he whispered, using his thumb on her core, and she came, arching up, taking more of him, the look of her so intensely erotic, an electrifying hard-on, turn-on. Pulsing with the contractions of her pleasure, she sighed, and the deeper he went, the softer she groaned.

“Wes…damn…oh, Cowboy.” She spread her legs a little wider, taking him in, taking all of him, her hands on his biceps, her hips moving with him on every thrust.

“I cried for you,” she whispered against his mouth, then dragged her tongue across his lower lip and bit, hard—and he didn’t know what tore him up more, the love bite or her confession. Both went straight through him on a wave of desperate need to fuck her so sweetly, to dry her long-gone tears, and somehow to love her until she was his.

Kia. He’d known the first time he’d seen her, known there was something between them, some connection making her impossible to ignore. He’d seen her so many times, and every time she’d made an indelible impression on his heart.

Now they were here, wrapped around each other, drenched in desire and need, all he wanted to do was thrust into her harder and faster, more and more and more, to find his pleasure in her body, to let the sweet, slick heat of her consume him and take everything he had.

One deep slide after another, he pumped into her, again and again, reaching and striving for the moment of inevitable release. When it came, it came on him slow and hard, pulsing through him and damn near driving him goddamn crazy.

He pushed deeper, burying himself to the hilt inside her, and she tightened around him. He groaned with the pleasure and pushed into her again, loving the feel of her around his dick. This was life. My God, he’d missed this like a complete idiot. Her breath was warm on his neck, coming in short gasps. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, the erotic feel of the metal sensually scraping his skin.

He could feel her heart racing, feel the heat of her satisfaction. Whatever else he was, he was safely, surely, wildly, intensely alive deep inside her.

She turned her head and opened her mouth on his shoulder, her teeth closing on him not so gently.

“That all you got, darlin’?” The toughness of men’s skin could take a lot more damage than a sweet woman’s. She tried again and it hurt so good.

He propped himself up on his elbows looked down into her flushed face and sated eyes, the storm banked for now, a soft gray. A sigh escaped her, and he tightened his hold on her. God, for so long he’d been dormant, not understanding what he was missing, and maybe that’s what held him back. Maybe if he knew this, it would change his world. Turn it upside down.

And it had. She had.

He’d been in limbo emotionally for so long. Taking this pushed him beyond the limits of eat, sleep, fight, repeat, made him understand why he’d kept such a tight grip on his emotions all these years. If he hadn’t…he’d have to face what he hadn’t faced ten years ago.

She felt like life to him.

He could protect her. He could protect her without fail, no matter what she’d done, no matter what or who came after her. He was the tower of strength against which all others were broken. Until his last breath, he would be her protector down to the marrow of his bones. Whatever she was tied up in, he was bound as well.