Rowan jogged beside Seth and Axel as they carried Lachlan between them. His face was ashen and his jaw tensed.

Ahead, she watched Callie and Smith disappear into the base with Lars.

“We have a small infirmary.” Rowan raced ahead to hold the door open. “It’s off the second lab dome.”

“Got it,” Axel murmured.

They hurried through the base, and the men helped Lachlan onto the bunk in the infirmary.

“It’s nothing,” Lachlan growled. “It’ll be fine.”

Rowan hurried to flick on the bunk’s heating pad. Lachlan’s color still wasn’t great. Then she turned to a cabinet, yanking it open and pulling out the first aid gear.

“Right. Like when you told me your arm was fine when you fell out of my treehouse as a kid.” She glanced at the men. “It was broken.”

Axel snorted, shooting her a sexy grin. “Sounds like she has you worked out, amigo.”

“She pushed me out of the treehouse,” Lachlan grumbled.

Seth let out a quiet laugh. Axel’s smile made Rowan’s brain go blank. With his sexy, brown eyes, smooth, brown skin, and that smile…he was designed to short-circuit a woman’s brain.

Lachlan growled again. “Rowan.”

She spun to look at Lachlan. He didn’t look happy. “Um, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to knock you out.”

Lachlan eyed her, slipping his cold-weather coat off.

Right. Injuries. “Help him get his shirt off as well.”

Lachlan continued to complain as Axel and Seth helped him out of his gear. Rowan set the first aid gear out on a small tray.

When she turned back, this time her brain didn’t go blank, it simply stopped functioning.

Lachlan’s upper body was bare and she couldn’t look away.

Holy cow. She didn’t know where to look first—the sleek muscles, the incredible silver prosthetic arm, or the tattoos. She swallowed. She didn’t know anyone could look that ripped. He had to have, like zero body fat.

Rowan’s gaze moved over his bronze skin to take in the large tattoo on his left shoulder, and the ink down his side. Then her attention snagged on his right arm. The prosthetic was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was grafted onto his skin at his shoulder, and was made of some sort of high-tech metal.

She’d had no idea he had a prosthetic arm. It moved perfectly in sync with him, just like his organic arm. Her gaze slid lower, to where his six pack abs and defined muscles disappeared into his cold-weather trousers.

She jerked her head up. How about you focus on the wicked scratches on his chest, Rowan?

Clearing her throat, she lifted a syringe. “I have some painkillers—”

“No,” Lachlan said.

“It might hurt—”

“It’s fine. No drugs.”

She glanced at Axel and Seth, and saw both men were grinning.

“Lachlan’s afraid of needles,” Axel said.

She blinked. That this rugged, tough warrior was afraid of anything blew her mind. “O-kay.”

“I’m not afraid…I just don’t like them.”

“Uh-huh,” Rowan agreed. She opened some antiseptic wipes and leaned over Lachlan. She swiped at the gashes and heard his controlled hiss.

“It’s not too deep,” she murmured.

“The boss hates getting patched up,” Axel said. “Fights Callie tooth and nail.”

Lachlan scowled at his teammate.

“I think I have this, guys,” Rowan said.

With a laugh, Axel left. Seth followed with a shake of his head, shooting her a look. His ice-blue eyes made her shiver.

“I don’t think Seth likes me,” she murmured.

“Seth trusts exactly five people. His teammates. He takes a little time to warm up.”

As she cleaned the nasty scratches, she was happy to see the white tinge on his skin disappear. “How did he get so distrusting?”

“He spent over a decade working for the CIA.”

“He was a spy?” she breathed.

Lachlan’s lips twitched. “Something like that. When Seth wants to blend into a crowd, even his mother couldn’t find him.”

“Were you CIA, too?”

He shook his head. “I joined the Marines right out of school. Force Reconnaissance.”

Rowan didn’t know what Force Reconnaissance was, but it sounded badass. She made a note to look it up.

She cleaned up the last of the blood. His skin was back to a gorgeous bronze. “I don’t think you need stitches, but I’ll put some medical glue on the scratches.” It was the most commonly used thing in the infirmary. Someone was always nicking themselves on something. Like when Isabel—

Pain made Rowan’s throat close. No one around here would be needing the infirmary again.

“Rowan?”

She pushed it away. “What happened to your arm?”

“Injury.”

When he didn’t say anything else, she smiled. “I see you’re still a man of many words.”

The faintest smile hit his lips, then faded away. “A mission went bad and we were overrun by insurgents. I went in to save a fellow Marine, but got caught in a blast. Lost my arm, and Blair dragged my ass out of there and got injured as well. Afterward, I left the Marines and joined Team 52.”

His voice was toneless and she knew it had been bad. “I’ve never seen a prosthetic this high-tech before.”

He stayed silent.

“And Blair’s eye…?”

“She lost it rescuing me.” His tone said he was done talking.

Okay, moving on. She pressed a hand to his chest, realizing just how hot and hard he felt. Electricity zinged through her and she forced herself to lift the glue tube. She ran it through the deepest scratches.

She could feel his attention on her. Her gaze flicked up to find tawny eyes watching her. Her chest locked.

Pulse jumping, she smoothed her hand over his hard pec. She saw something flicker in his eyes. Helpless to stop herself, she stroked his sleek skin again, and this time, she saw his big body shiver.

Wow. Talk about bad timing. She looked up and their gazes met.

“Rowan…”

His voice moved through her, setting her nerves alight. Rowan stepped back and tried to recap the tube of glue with trembling fingers. “All done. So…can you explain what I just saw out on the ice?”

“Yes. But you’ll never be able to tell anyone. It’s classified.”

Her heart thumped. “What will happen to Lars?”

“He’ll be cared for. There will be a cover story to explain the death of the other scientists.”

Rowan squeezed her eyes closed and thought of her friends—Isabel, Emily, Samuel, Amara, the others. Their families would never know the truth.

“Probably something like a gas leak,” Lachlan continued. “Something that killed them all at once.”

She nodded tiredly. “And the artifact?”

“That’s a longer story.” He swung into a sitting position.

Suddenly, she found herself very close to him and staring at a wall of hard chest. She sucked in a deep breath and pulled in his scent. Heat moved through her body, settling in her belly.

“Rowan, you’d better stop looking at me like that,” he said.

She met his gaze and saw the same attraction she felt shimmering there. She’d loved his golden tiger eyes when she’d been young. They looked harder and scarier now, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She’d never been afraid of him.

After a few breathless seconds, he reached out and touched her hair, stroking a strand of it between his fingers. Rowan inhaled audibly.

“How’s the patient?”

Callie’s cheerful voice made Rowan step back. She looked up at the medic and forced a smile. “Fine.”

“Usually he gives me trouble.” Callie moved closer, her gray gaze on Lachlan’s injury.

Lachlan gave the woman a scowling look, before reaching for his shirt. He shrugged it on.

“The artifact has been secured on the X8,” Callie said. “The others are loading the bodies now.”

“Close the base down, and let’s go.” Lachlan looked at Rowan. “Pack your things. Only what you can easily carry.”

She nodded. It didn’t take her long to grab her things from her office, and some clothes from under her bunk.

As she left the base, she paused at the door, looking back into the rec room. Emotions churned through her, then she turned away and followed Team 52.

She’d barely taken in the strange helicopter that was parked outside when they’d chased after Lars. Now, she gave it her full attention.

It looked like something straight from the set of a movie. It was made of a white metal, and looked like a cross between a helicopter and a plane. It had twin rotors on top, and jet engines on the modified wings.

Lachlan stood at the open side door, and waved her in. She climbed aboard, and immediately spotted the body bags resting at the back of the helicopter.

The pain was piercing and she couldn’t move. It was only when Lachlan pressed a hand to her lower back that she came unstuck.

He led her to one of the big seats and she dropped down into it.

Her team was dead and she’d failed them. But dammit, she was going to find out what had happened.

* * *

As the X8 flew south, Lachlan watched Rowan and worried.

She’d been quiet for hours, her arms curled around herself, and her legs tucked up under her. She stared out the window, but he didn’t think she was looking at the view.

“You going to take your eyes off her at some stage, amigo?” Axel drawled from behind him.

Lachlan shot the man a killer look, but as usual, Axel shrugged it off with a laugh.

Lars was resting on a stretcher toward the back of the chopper. He was sedated, and Callie said he wasn’t doing well. The medic sat beside him, monitoring his vitals.

“I want to know about the artifact,” Rowan said suddenly.

Lachlan whipped his head back around. He caught Axel’s gaze. Smith was sprawled in the chair beside him, dozing. The big man cracked one hazel eye open, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Lachlan moved chairs, sitting down across from Rowan.

“As I told you, my team was sent here to rescue survivors and contain the artifact.”

“And that’s what Team 52 does?” she asked. “Contains and safeguards artifacts?”

He nodded. “Certain items that are dangerous.”

“What items, exactly? What is that artifact? A foreign weapon? Something experimental?”

“No.”

Her brow creased. “If you say aliens…”

He smiled. She was tired and stressed, but she was holding it together. “Not aliens. But the object is likely an ancient artifact.”

“If you say the word magic, I’ll scream.”

“Not magic, either. But you’ve heard that saying about how any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic?”

She stilled. “Arthur C. Clarke. Advanced technology? Lachlan, that artifact was trapped in ice that was over five thousand years old. It can’t be advanced anything.”

He leaned back in his chair. “What if I told you that what you know about conventional history isn’t entirely correct?”

She pondered that for a second. “Okay.” He could see her intelligent brain working. Her gaze locked on his. “Go on.”

“There is evidence that civilization is older than we believe,” he said. “Unexplained artifacts, submerged ruins that predate the earliest advanced cultures like the Sumerians and Egyptians.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re saying that there were other advanced cultures before Sumer and Egypt?”

“Exactly. How advanced, we aren’t sure. Have you heard of Hueyátlaco?”

She shook her head.

“It’s an archeological site in Mexico. Archeologists worked there during the sixties and discovered stone tools and animal remains in situ, seemingly undisturbed. Two different dating methods dated the site up to two hundred and fifty thousand years old.”

“What?” she breathed.

“And then there’s Göbekli Tepe in southern Turkey,” he added.

“I’ve heard of that. An archeological site that was made a world heritage site, right?”

“Right. Discovered in the sixties, it was mostly ignored, but archeologists have been working on it over the last few years and Göbekli Tepe doesn’t make sense. It’s Neolithic, with the world’s oldest megaliths, skilled construction, and amazing carvings.” He paused. “It is also twelve thousand years old. It predates Stonehenge, Sumer, and writing by six thousand years.”

Rowan’s mouth dropped open.

“I could go on. Sunken ruins off the coast of India that are thousands of years old. Highly classified ruins under the ice in Antarctica.”

“No way,” she breathed.

“Human civilization was more advanced than we believed, and was mostly destroyed by flooding at the end of the last ice age.”

“Flooding.” She sat bolt upright like she’d been prodded. “Atlantis?”

He winced. “Atlantis is a hokey myth cobbled together from snippets of truth. Yes, advanced cultures existed, but all over the planet, not in one mythical utopia. There are myths about sunken cities and continents from all over the world.”

“This is…mind-boggling.” She pushed her hair back.

“There are some characteristic signs, like megalithic, large-scale constructions that they left behind. And there are some artifacts…that contain abilities that are dangerous.”

“Like this metallic circle.”

“Yes. I’m guessing Lars accidentally activated it.”

Rowan took a deep breath. “Who the hell could have been living up on Ellesmere Island five thousand years ago? Who had the ability to make something like that? The Pre-Dorset culture lived there around that time, and records show they were people who hunted seals and caribou.”

“I don’t have the answers yet. My team back at base will analyze the artifact, and piece together what they can.”

“Then what?”

“Then the artifact will be secured in a top-secret facility.”

She gripped the armrests of her seat. “What aren’t you saying?”

“That there are a lot of people out there, not nice people, who would kill to get their hands on the artifact.”

Rowan went still. “Terrorists?”

Lachlan nodded. “And arms dealers, crime syndicates, black-market thieves, dictators, unfriendly regimes, and—”

She held up a hand. “I get it. Where’s your base?”

“Nevada.”

Suddenly, her shoulders sagged. “So it’s likely my team dying was just a tragic, meaningless accident.”

“Rowan—”

Her lips trembled and he saw she was trying hard to hold it together. “I was the base leader. It was my responsibility to keep them safe.”

He grabbed her hand. “You couldn’t have prepared for something like this.”

“They’re dead, Lars is hurt, and I’m alive.” Her voice broke.

Survivor guilt. Lachlan knew all too well how that felt. “You’ll get through this, sweetheart. I know you will.”

She shook her head and a tear tracked down her cheek. “It’s tearing me up inside.”

Not caring that his team would give him hell for it later, Lachlan undid her belt and yanked her into his lap. She held herself stiff.

“Let it out, Rowan.”

She shook her head again, a little desperately. “I can’t. I don’t cry. I don’t lose it.”

“You used to cry all the time.”

“Not after you left…I…” Another tear slid down her cheek. “I guess I grew up and got tougher.”

Something slid through his gut. No, she just didn’t have anyone to hold her when she cried anymore. God, her parents had been cold assholes, and he guessed that hadn’t changed.

“I’ve got you, Rowan. Let it out.”

She leaned into him, a sob breaking free. Her hands gripped him. “I’m alive and they’re all dead.” She started crying, not loud and obnoxious, but quiet, her shoulders shaking.

Lachlan pulled her face to his chest and held on tight. She burrowed into him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, wishing he could spare her all of this. He saw his team was all looking away, giving them what privacy they could.

Finally, her crying stopped. When he tipped her face back, her eyes were red and she looked exhausted.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’m not usually like this—”

“Rowan, stop beating yourself up.”

“Your shirt’s a little wet.”

“It’ll dry.” He rubbed a thumb over her damp cheek. “We have a few hours to go. Why don’t you get some rest?”

She made a choked sound. “Like I’ll be able to sleep after all of this.”

Lachlan reluctantly set her back in her seat and watched as she leaned back.

“Lachlan?”

“Yeah?” He met her blue eyes.

“Thank you.” She turned her head to look out the window. It took her three minutes to fall asleep.

He opened an overhead compartment and pulled out a blanket. He gently tucked it around her. Then he stood and moved back to Callie.

“How is she?” Callie asked.

“Hanging in there.” His gaze fell on Lars. “Your patient?”

“Not great.” Callie tucked her dark hair back behind her ear. “I’ve no idea what the artifact did to him, but it looks like his organs are failing.”

Shit. “Okay, keep him comfortable, and keep me updated.”

Again, Lachlan found his gaze drawn back to Rowan. Despite himself, he felt a pull toward her, and a desperate need to keep her safe.

But this mission was almost over, and once they got back, she’d be out of harm’s way and able to go home. Back to her normal life.

His prosthetic hand curled. Another reminder that he wasn’t just a normal guy. Lachlan was well aware of the things he’d done, the things he’d seen, the man he was now. He also knew he’d never, ever risk hurting someone he cared about.

He’d watched his mother live everyday in terror that her husband would snap, and hurt her or Lachlan. Lachlan had lived that nightmare and he’d never inflict it on a woman.

Someone as smart and beautiful as Rowan Schafer should never have to live with that.