Rowan came up sputtering. Lachlan wrapped an arm around her and yanked her to the edge of the pool.

She looked up. Holy cow. Her stomach rolled. They’d fallen a long way, and if he hadn’t grabbed her, she’d likely have landed on concrete.

If he hadn’t arrived, those men would have killed her.

Lachlan climbed out of the pool, pulling her with him with a flex of his arms. Water streamed off them both.

“Rowan?”

She blinked up at him. Water clung to his eyelashes. The man had really long eyelashes.

“Hey, stay with me.” He cupped her cheek. “You’re okay.”

That’s when she realized she was probably a little shocky. “I’m okay. Thanks to you.”

His fingers tightened on her. “Rowan—”

Blair materialized, looking pissed. “You both all right?” The woman touched Rowan’s arm.

“Hi, again.” Rowan pushed her water-soaked hair from her face.

Blair gave her a faint smile, then looked at Lachlan. “Plan?”

“We keep her safe. I want to know who these assholes are. Tomorrow, she’s coming back to base.”

Rowan cleared her throat. “Don’t I get a—”

Lachlan scowled down at her. “No.”

She glared at him. “Excuse me, but I was the one getting shot at.”

His face changed, his gold eyes glittering. She snapped her mouth closed, and almost took a step back. He looked three degrees beyond scary.

“Here.” Callie appeared, holding some pool towels.

Lachlan grabbed one and wrapped it around Rowan. That’s when she became aware that her drenched pajama tank was clinging to everything. She clutched the towel tighter.

“Whatever I have to do to keep you safe, I’ll do it,” he said, tone firm.

Rowan’s heart clenched. No one had ever said those words to her before.

Callie took another towel and covered the dead man on the concrete. “Police are coming. Let’s move.”

Rowan quickly looked away and Lachlan nudged her forward. They moved through the curious crowd, flanked by Blair and Callie. They skirted around the edge of the main casino and came out the front entrance. A second later, a black SUV pulled up at the curb. The door opened, and Rowan spotted Smith behind the wheel.

Axel and Seth materialized out of nowhere.

Rowan took one step toward the SUV, but Lachlan stopped her.

“Rowan’s with me tonight. I’ll get Brooks working on figuring out who did this, and report to the director. Blair, can you get her stuff?”

“Sure,” Blair replied. “What about the cops?”

“Call MacKade.”

Blair’s face didn’t change, but Rowan felt something shift in the woman’s demeanor. Behind her, Axel pressed his tongue to his teeth and studied his boots.

“Who’s MacKade?” Rowan asked.

Blair’s nose wrinkled. “An arrogant asshole.”

Lachlan made a sound. “A detective at the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police and our contact. Call him.”

“Fuck. Fine.” Blair stomped off, her blonde ponytail swinging.

Rowan had questions, but right now, her energy was flagging. She wanted to curl up and block out the world for a bit. “I need some chocolate.”

Axel grinned at her, and then Lachlan was pulling her away from the SUV. She frowned. Where were they going?

Lachlan stopped in front of a motorcycle. A sleek, modern-looking beast of a thing. He took the towel off her and tossed it over a low brick wall. Then he swung a long leg over and grabbed a helmet from the handlebars.

“I’m not getting on that,” she said.

Damn, he looked so good on it—tough and sexy.

“Yes, you are.” He looked at her, his eyes glittering again. “Someone tried to kill you tonight. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to end up dead, and I’m going to keep you alive. Now, get on the bike.”

She huffed out a breath. The man had dived off the building for her. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle like this before.”

His face softened the tiniest fraction. “I’ll take care of you.”

Rowan was starting to believe that. She gingerly climbed on behind him and he settled the helmet on her head. She tried not to focus on the fact that she was braless, in tiny pajama shorts, and no shoes.

A moment later, the bike’s engine vibrated to life beneath her.

“Hold on,” he said.

Rowan felt a strange thrill and wrapped her arms around him. She’d been on a motorbike before, but it had been a rattling death trap that they’d used on a jungle research trip in Central America.

This bike was nothing like that.

He took off, the bike zooming forward. She tightened her hold, pressing into him until she was plastered against his muscled back.

It didn’t take long for the warm wind to dry her wet clothes. They zipped through traffic, and a new energy filled her. This rocked. There was nothing but Lachlan and the wind on her skin.

He weaved in and out of cars, and soon they entered a more residential area not far from the Strip. It wasn’t fancy, but not rundown, either.

He slowed down in front of a nice condo building, and a second later they drove into an underground parking lot. He parked the bike, and reached back and took her helmet.

His gaze locked on her. “You okay?”

She blinked. “I think so. Uh, I’d love another ride sometime.”

The faintest smile touched his mouth before he took her hand and helped her off. He led her toward the elevator. Before she knew it, he was leading her down a carpeted hallway and into his condo.

As he flicked lights on and tapped a code on a fancy security system, Rowan looked around with interest. The place screamed “man lives here.” He had dark-stained wooden floors. A huge, black-leather sofa faced an enormous television. Off to one side was a galley kitchen with granite counters and shiny appliances, and a cool wall covered in shiny silver metal. The appliances didn’t look like they got much use. Lachlan didn’t strike her as the cooking type. Cart a rifle around, no problem, but probably not a spatula.

He grabbed her hand again, and this time, tugged her down the hall and into a bedroom.

Rowan sucked in a breath. The bed was huge and covered in a forest-green cover. Lachlan moved to a chest of drawers, opening one. He turned and handed her a T-shirt.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“We will.” He touched a strand of her still-damp hair. “After you shower and change. You’ve had a rough night, on top of a rough few days.”

He turned her and nudged her toward the adjoining bathroom. Then he stalked out.

He was still looking out for her. Her fingers brushed the soft fabric of the T-shirt. She’d almost been killed—more than once, in fact—and her parents hadn’t even returned her calls. But Lachlan had come to her and jumped off a building for her.

In the bathroom, Rowan looked in the mirror. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her partly dried hair was a tangled mess. She flicked on the shower inside the big glass enclosure. When she stepped under the hot water she stifled a moan. It felt like heaven.

Lachlan only had a simple bottle of multi-purpose shower gel. It would have to do. After she’d washed her hair and rinsed herself, she toweled off and grabbed her discarded pajamas and panties. She rinsed off the chlorine smell and threw them over a railing to dry.

Then she pulled on Lachlan’s T-shirt. It was huge and dwarfed her. At least it fell low enough that it covered up the fact she had no panties to wear. The shirt had the Marines emblem on the front—the eagle, globe, and anchor. She fingered the soft material again, trying not to imagine it resting against Lachlan’s hard chest.

When she headed out into the living room, she found him leaning against the countertop, drinking coffee. He obviously had a second bathroom, as he’d showered and changed as well. His jeans were a step beyond worn and white at the seams. His black T-shirt clung to tight muscles, the sleeves cutting into his biceps.

Her mouth went dry. Down, girl.

He held up a mug. “For you.”

The scent of hot chocolate hit her and with a groan, she took it. She didn’t care if it was the middle of the night. Any time your life was a mess was the right time for chocolate.

His gaze moved over her slowly, taking his time.

Rowan’s skin tingled. When his gaze met hers, his eyes were filled with something hot and satisfied.

She perched on a stool and turned in his direction, tugging the hem of the shirt to make sure everything was covered. “What happened tonight?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

She dragged in a breath. “I was asleep on the couch and woke up. I heard someone in my room. They…they…”

Lachlan grabbed her hand.

His touch steadied her. “They shot at the bed with a silenced handgun.”

His fingers clenched on hers and she saw a muscle tick in his jaw.

“They just signed their death warrants.”

“Lachlan!”

His lips firmed. “Go on.”

“I crawled to the balcony door and got out. I climbed down. One of them, the guy with a scar on his eyebrow, said they just wanted to ask me some questions about the artifact.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t believe them.”

“Smart.”

“I got to the glass roof and they chased me. You know the rest. So? What’s going on?”

“One of those bad guys I mentioned to you on the jet-copter entered the game.”

Her stomach clenched. “Spell that out for me.”

“They want the artifact, and they want to know what it does. Likely, they would have tortured you to get the information they wanted, and then killed you.”

God. Rowan slumped forward, goose bumps breaking out on her skin.

Then Lachlan was there, nudging her knees apart and moving between them. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, Rowan. I promise.”

She stared into his handsome but scary face. She believed him. Lachlan had always kept his promises, even as a kid. And from what she could tell, he’d grown into a man who kept them, as well.

His fingers kneaded her shoulders. “I will protect you.”

She nodded, absorbing the warmth of him. It would be so easy to lean on him, depend on him.

“Time for you to get some rest,” he murmured.

Yes, far too easy to lean on him. And then when he walked away, which she knew he would do, it would tear her open. Lachlan would protect her from the bad guys, but it was up to her to protect herself from him.

* * *

Lachlan woke in his bed, sunshine peeking through the curtains, and a warm, curvy body snuggled against him.

Actually, Rowan was plastered half over him, a slim leg thrown over his, and her hand nestled on his bare chest. She was still asleep, her face relaxed and her lashes dark against her cheeks.

He should never have hopped in the bed with her. Even now, his body throbbed at the closeness. After they’d talked last night, she’d crashed. She’d climbed into his bed, wearing only his shirt, and been out like a light.

He’d checked on her later, his own exhaustion dragging on him. She’d been restless, clearly struggling with unpleasant dreams. He’d touched her arm, and she’d reached for him.

“Stay,” she’d whispered.

Lachlan had slid in beside her, and she’d wrapped around him and settled.

Now, with the sunlight giving her skin a golden glow, he breathed deep. She smelled like his soap. In his head, he kept seeing her dangling from that roof, kept seeing her falling.

He tightened his hold on her. Fuck. He pulled her closer and she stirred, snuggling into him. Then she froze.

She looked up, blue eyes blinking at him

“What are you doing in this bed?” she asked.

“It’s my bed. And actually, you asked me to join you.”

They stared at each other.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. “I can’t process this right now. I’ve got bad guys after me, my friends are dead, my life has gone crazy.”

She looked like she was about to hyperventilate. “Take a breath, Rowan.”

As she did, her breasts rose and fell under her shirt. His shirt. She pushed at her cloud of dark red hair. Damn, she was gorgeous.

Then her hand moved across his chest and her gaze dropped to watch it. Now he saw something different appear in her eyes. She deliberately stroked his skin.

“You must have, like zero percent body fat.”

Lachlan’s cock stirred.

She touched where his prosthetic arm met his skin. “Ty made this for you, right? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

Lachlan nodded. “It’s experimental. It’s tied directly into my nerves and functions better than my other arm. Plus, it’s stronger, can react faster.”

Her gaze followed her fingers as she stroked the metal. The arm had some sensors, but he couldn’t really feel her touch.

“It still must have been hard to lose your arm,” she said quietly.

Screams echoed in his head. His fellow Marines and his own. The horrible pain. “Yeah.”

Her fingers stroked back up, showing no concern or disgust about his prosthetic. In fact, she looked fascinated. She caressed his chest again and now his cock went rock-hard. She kept stroking his chest, and now he definitely knew what was in her blue eyes—desire.

“Rowan—”

She stroked lower, her nails scratching over his abs. “I’ve never seen a man with a six-pack like yours before.” She looked closer. “Or rather an eight-pack.”

Lachlan curled up to sit. “Rowan.”

“I just want to forget everything, Lachlan. For a few damn minutes, I want to stop thinking.”

Before he could say anything, she leaped on him.

He caught her as she straddled him, and a second later, her lips smacked against his.

Damn. The last of his control slipped through his fingers like water. He opened his mouth and her tongue slid inside. Screw it. He kissed her back. She was so damn sexy, especially wearing only his T-shirt.

He ran his hands up her back and deepened the kiss. She moaned, her tongue sliding against his. He reversed his caress, stroking his hands down her body and cupping her ass.

“I love seeing you in my shirt.” His voice sounded like gravel.

“I love seeing you without a shirt.”

He rolled, pinning her beneath him. He pressed his hips to hers, his cock rubbing against her. That’s when he realized she wasn’t wearing any panties. Only the thin cotton of his boxer briefs separated them.

Rowan lifted her hips and let out a husky cry. “Yes.”

Lachlan bunched his hand in the shirt and started lifting it up. He was going to explore all that smooth skin.

His doorbell rang, followed by the thump of a fist on wood. Three sharp raps.

He froze and squeezed his eyes closed.

“No!” Rowan clutched at him. “Don’t stop.”

“That’s Blair. She was bringing your things over.” He glanced at the clock beside the bed and groaned. “We have a flight back to base in—” shit “—under an hour.”

Lachlan very reluctantly knifed off Rowan. She rolled off the bed, not meeting his gaze. “I’m going to shower.”

“Ro—”

“Heat of the moment.” She waved a hand at him, still not meeting his gaze. “I get it. You made it clear back at the base, and to be fair, you’re a risk I can’t afford.”

As she disappeared, Lachlan set his hands on his hips. What the hell did she mean by that? He stared at the closed door and wondered what the fuck he was doing.

He shook his head. Something had changed. Seeing her dangling off a building, her life in danger, had damn well changed everything.

He’d tried to push her away, but life had tossed them back together. She was in danger, and whatever the hell happened, he was going to keep her safe.

Lachlan heard the bell again, and quickly yanked on his jeans and a T-shirt. When he yanked open the door, his best friend looked at his face, then raised a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You have fucking bad timing.” He closed the door.

“I have excellent timing. Like the thirty or so times I’ve saved your ass in a firefight.”

Lachlan snorted. “Thirty, my ass.”

Blair handed him Rowan’s bag. “So, you and Rowan—?”

“Shut it and make some coffee.”

“Sure thing, sunshine.”

He dropped Rowan’s bag on the bed. The shower was still running, and images bombarded him. Sleek, slick skin. Wet, red hair.

When he headed back to the living room, Blair was in the kitchen making coffee.

His friend handed him a mug and looked like she was trying not to laugh at him. He was sipping the coffee when Rowan emerged. She was wearing jeans, a pale-blue shirt that matched her eyes, and her hair pulled up in a messy knot on top of her head. He reached over to pour another mug.

“Hi, Blair,” Rowan murmured.

Blair lifted her chin. “You okay?”

Rowan took the coffee that Lachlan handed to her. “Not really.”

Blair studied Rowan’s face and gave a short nod. “We’ll get you there.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Rowan looked at Lachlan.

“Time to get to the airport.”

Rowan was quiet for most of the drive. He drove them through a secure gate, nodding at the guards. He parked beside a nondescript hangar on a distant runway. When they exited the vehicle, Lachlan scanned the area, making sure no one was watching them.

He led Rowan into a small office area. Inside, a gorgeous blonde sat at the single desk.

“Morning, you guys.” She shot them a dazzling smile.

Rowan went still, blinking at the woman.

Lachlan had to admit that Kinsey was a bombshell and had a hell of a smile. “Rowan, this is Kinsey Beck. She takes care of things for us here in Vegas.”

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Rowan breathed.

Kinsey laughed and crossed her legs. “I was a wanna-be showgirl. I moved to Vegas, only to discover I wasn’t tall enough.” Her smile said she’d gotten over her shattered dreams. “Now I attempt to organize these badasses for a living.”

Axel and Seth appeared from a side door.

“Plane’s fueled,” Seth said.

“The pilots are ready to go,” Axel added.

“Where are Smith and Callie?” Rowan asked.

“Already at base,” Lachlan answered. “Callie wanted to check on Lars, and Smith avoids Las Vegas, if he can help it.”

Kinsey shook her head. “That mountain man is allergic to people.”

They made their farewells, and Lachlan led Rowan out the door. A sleek plane sat in the hangar.

As they climbed the stairs into the plane, he noticed Rowan still looked tired and worried. As his team boarded and settled into their seats, Lachlan sat beside her and grabbed her hand.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She gave him a small nod.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

The plane started taxiing.

She sighed. “I will be. I always am.” She gave him a strained smile. “I’m good at dealing with stuff and coming out the other side. I’m used to it.”

She sounded so resigned and so alone.

“You need to talk to your folks again?”

“No, they’re busy,” came the measured reply.

Anger shot through him.

“I’m sure they’ll send me an email when they can.”

Fuckers. He’d always hated her self-absorbed parents, but their only daughter had almost died, and they couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck? Rowan might be used to dealing with things herself, but not this time.