Rowan blinked awake, stretching in her seat. She heard the quiet, deep-voiced murmurs of Team 52, and could feel the aircraft descending. She glanced out the window. Beige desert stretched as far as the eye could see, and the sun was hovering just above the western horizon.

She’d slept for hours, awakened briefly by Lachlan, who’d forced some food and coffee into her before she’d fallen asleep again. Despite the sleep, however, she felt gritty-eyed and disheveled. She’d kill for a hot shower.

Lachlan appeared, sitting beside her. He was dressed all in black now—cargo pants and a black shirt. He didn’t look tired or disheveled.

“You got some rest?” he asked.

She nodded. “How’s Lars?”

“No change.”

She looked out the window again, and spotted a large, white patch on the ground below. “What’s that?”

Lachlan leaned over, his shoulder brushing hers. Again, she felt that disconcerting zing race through her. Of all the times for her hibernating body to decide to come to life.

“Groom Lake salt flat.”

She stiffened. “Wait! Groom Lake… Your base is Area 51?”

He shot her a grin that softened his face. “No. We’re based next door at Area 52, also known as the Tonopah Test Range. It’s a restricted military installation northwest of Area 51.”

“Wow.” Rowan pressed her fingers to her lips. “So, while everyone’s focused on Area 51, you guys are quietly hiding a secret base of powerful ancient artifacts next door?”

“That about covers it.”

Shaking her head, she relaxed back in her seat. Lachlan leaned over and fastened her belt. His fingers brushed her belly and she sucked in a breath. The slightest touch from him seemed to send her body haywire.

Gold-brown eyes flicked up to hers, and she saw that sexy, half-smile again. Axel might have a delicious full-on, mega-watt smile, but it didn’t seem to have the effect on her that Lachlan’s small one did.

“We’re coming in to land,” he said.

The jet-copter landed like a helicopter, swinging in to set down in front of a large hangar.

Blair ducked out of the cockpit. “Welcome home, ladies.”

There were some good-natured grumbles. Seth followed Blair out with a shake of his head.

Lachlan slid the side door open, and as Rowan unbuckled, she saw Smith and Callie maneuvering Lars’ stretcher off. She stared at Lars’ slack, pale face and her gut cramped.

When she reached the door, Lachlan gripped her waist and lifted her down. Warm, dry desert air hit her in the face. God, it felt so strange after months in the Arctic. It left her feeling weird.

She could see a lot of runways and other hangars in the distance. “This is an Air Force facility?”

“A lot of different agencies conduct work here,” he said. “Everyone operates under an Air Force permit.”

Lachlan pressed a hand to her lower back as they walked inside the large hangar. Blair moved ahead, walking with a loose-limbed stride Rowan wished she could emulate, with Axel sauntering beside her. Seth carried the box Rowan knew held the artifact.

She looked around, spotting a mixture of armed guards in black, and some in Air Force blue-gray camouflage uniforms. They were all standing, alert and focused, as Team 52 moved past.

Inside the hangar, Rowan blinked as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. It looked like a regular aircraft hangar, filled with various planes and helicopters, and maintenance equipment. She was a bit disappointed. She’d expected something…more.

There were more armed airmen standing beside a large industrial elevator. Callie pushed the stretcher into the elevator, and the rest of Team 52 followed. Lachlan nudged Rowan in, and her boots thumped on the black, metal grate floor.

Lachlan touched the controls and the doors closed. The elevator shot down.

Way down.

They descended in silence. Rowan tried to estimate how far underground they were, when the elevator finally slowed. The doors opened and they exited into a huge, cavernous space.

Holy. Hell. Rowan looked around, her mouth dropping open. The black walls absorbed the light, but the place was well lit. To one side, stood huge, double doors that were tightly closed.

“That’s our storage facility,” Lachlan said.

He nudged her toward the left and through a doorway. They entered a corridor lined by glass-walled rooms.

One larger room looked like a rec room, similar to the one they’d had at the research base, except this one was sleeker and better equipped. The kitchenette gleamed, and there were tables and chairs, along with streamlined black couches.

“Welcome to Area 52, Rowan,” Seth said.

She nodded at him, taking in his cool tone. He clearly still wasn’t sure about her.

“Hey, you’re back.” A good-looking man wearing dark-framed glasses strode into the room. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, but instead, had on jeans and a tight-black shirt that showed off a muscled chest and tattoos down one arm. His shirt had “Pew Pew” written on it in Star Wars font.

He smiled at Rowan, a lock of brown hair falling over his forehead. “Hi, I’m Brooks. Brooks Jameson.”

“Hi. Rowan.”

“I know.” The man’s smile widened. He had a sexy, hot geek thing going on that worked well for him. “I do comms and intel for the team. I know all.” He fluttered his fingers.

“Where’s Ty?” Lachlan asked.

“In the lab.” Brooks’ face turned serious. “He’s waiting.”

Callie whisked Lars’ stretcher past them and down the corridor. Rowan had to trot to keep up with Lachlan’s long strides. Brooks kept pace right beside them.

“The boss is incoming, too.” Brooks’ eyebrows rose.

“Boss?” Rowan asked.

“The man in charge,” Brooks said. “Jonah Grayson. He’s the man in charge of Area 52.”

She wondered what kind of man was put in charge of an operation like this.

Lachlan led Rowan into a lab. She jerked to a stop and couldn’t help but drool a little. The place was amazing, and filled with all kinds of equipment designed to be a scientist’s wet dream.

“Where is it?” a deep voice demanded.

Rowan turned, her eyes widening as she took in the African-American man bearing down on them, his white lab coat flaring out behind his powerful body.

Wow. His dark hair was cut super short, his face was too rugged for handsome, and he had a sexy goatee. The man had a presence.

“Dr. Ty Sampson, Dr. Rowan Schafer,” Lachlan said. “And we’re fine, thanks for asking. Survived the mission with only minor injuries.”

Ty grunted. “You’re all walking, so I didn’t bother asking.”

“Hello, and welcome to our home away from home.” A woman joined them. Her long, black hair was loose and had a hint of a curl. She wasn’t wearing fatigues. Instead, she wore a long, fitted gray skirt, a pale-pink shirt, and killer heels. She looked like she’d just stepped out of the boardroom, or someone’s librarian fantasy.

“Hey, Nat.” Lachlan murmured.

“Hi,” Rowan said.

“I’m Dr. Natalie Blackwell.” The woman shook Rowan’s hand.

If Rowan wasn’t mistaken, the woman had a soft Australian accent and some Asian heritage.

“I’m the chief archeologist here, while Dr. Grumpy here is our technology guru. He’s also a medical doctor.” She looked at Ty and pulled a face. “Overachiever.”

He bared white teeth.

“Callie needs help with our patient,” Lachlan said.

Ty’s face turned serious. “I’ll be back.”

Seth hefted the containment box on the bench.

“I’m sorry about your ordeal,” Natalie said softly to Rowan.

Grief hit Rowan again, and she managed a nod. “I guess I should be grateful to be alive.”

As Lachlan stepped forward to open the box, they all crowded around. Natalie snapped on some gloves, then reached in and removed the artifact. She set it on a tray on the bench.

“Well, hello there.” Her face lit up and she was clearly completely absorbed.

Rowan watched the archeologist pull out some sort of device and start scanning the artifact.

“I’ve been running the history of Ellesmere Island,” Natalie said. “Trying to see if anything pops on who could have created this artifact.”

“I was telling Lachlan that the ice where we pulled the artifact from was about five thousand years old,” Rowan said. “About when the Pre-Dorset culture lived on the island.”

Natalie nodded. “Five thousand years ago, the temperatures were warmer than they are now.”

Rowan raised a brow. “That’s right. The ice samples we were pulling back up that theory.”

“It would have helped people flourish on the island.”

“But the Pre-Dorset were hunters of sea and land mammals.”

Nat nodded. “They didn’t leave much for us to find. A few settlements and stone tools. It appears they had the bow and arrow, and other tools that made them good hunters.”

Rowan threw her hands in the air. “Nothing suggests they were a super-advanced race of people developing high-tech devices.”

Nat pressed a hip against the bench. “Imagine if this base was destroyed, and thousands of years from now, people sifted through the remains. Imagine they picked apart the wires and chips of a computer. What would they guess it was? Would they be able to deduce what it was capable of?”

Seth grunted. “I’d guess they’d suggest it was ceremonial and used to worship the gods.”

“The Pre-Dorset and their successors, the Dorset, have been shown to have no genetic link to the Thule Inuit who followed them,” Nat said. “They came from somewhere—where we don’t know for sure—and adapted very well to living in extremely cold weather. I couldn’t find much on the Pre-Dorset time period, but the Dorset left a little more behind.”

Rowan frowned. “They were still hunters, and carved soapstone and built simple stone longhouses.”

“Ah, but with some fascinating differences from their pre-cursors. Unlike their Pre-Dorset ancestors and the Inuit who came after them, the Dorset didn’t hunt land animals, but focused on sea mammals. Large sea mammals, like walrus and narwhal.”

Rowan frowned. “Okay.”

“And it appears that the Dorset didn’t use bow and arrows. Their ancestors did, but the Dorset stopped using them.” Nat smiled. “Yet they hunted large sea mammals comfortably.”

“You’re saying they found other ways to hunt.”

“Most likely. I also found some interesting Inuit legends about the Dorset culture. They called them the Tuniit or Sivullirmiut, the First Inhabitants. They were said to be giants, who were taller and stronger.”

“What?” Rowan breathed.

“Shit,” Lachlan muttered.

“A Canadian poet wrote about the Dorset giants who drove the Vikings back to their longships,” Nat finished.

Rowan sucked in a breath. “Giants?” She turned to look at Lachlan. “The artifact made Lars larger and stronger.”

Lachlan’s face hardened. “Just like a giant.”

* * *

Lachlan found Rowan in the kitchen area, nursing a hot chocolate.

“How are you?” he asked.

She lifted a shoulder. “This all feels surreal.” She looked through the glass wall out toward the large doors leading to the warehouse. “I’m in a secret base in Nevada, and just a day ago, I was leading a multidisciplinary team on the Gilman Glacier.” She looked into her drink. “Now they’re all dead.”

Lachlan wanted to hold her again, but held back. He knew that nothing but time would help heal those wounds. “I’m guessing you’d like to contact your parents. Let them know you’re okay.”

She nodded.

“And would a shower help?”

She looked up, her blue eyes lighting. “I’ll bear your firstborn child if you let me have a hot shower.”

Her words made his body lock. First, he imagined exactly what it took to make a child, then he imagined what Rowan would look like with a swollen belly. He cleared his throat, and noticed her cheeks were pink.

“Childbirth isn’t required,” he said. “Follow me.”

He led her down to his quarters. He could have organized some spare quarters elsewhere for her, but for some reason, he wanted her closer. He watched her take in the sparse room. Bunk, cupboard, desk. Nothing fancy, and he hadn’t added anything personal.

“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.”

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.