“You should sleep.”

His orders were getting a bit out of hand, but she let it pass. He’d killed for her. When a guy took that step, you cut him some slack.

“I’m not getting into bed before I wash the dirt and blood and heaven only knows what else off me.”

His gaze wandered all over her, and the skin under his heated gaze tingled. “What about you? You can have half of the bed.”

“No. It’s not a good idea.”

“I was only talking about getting some rest. Nothing else.”

“You know, you’re a very attractive woman, Sela.”

“One with her own mind. I know who I’m attracted to and who I’m not.”

“And what type of guy are you attracted to?”

She debated playing it safe, then thought about how close she’d come to death over the last twenty-four hours, and skipped right over the games to the truth.

“You.”

The Big Guns
HelenKay Dimon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author HelenKay Dimon spent twelve years in the most unromantic career ever—divorce lawyer. After dedicating all that effort to helping people terminate relationships, she is thrilled to deal in happy endings and write romance novels for a living. Now her days are filled with gardening, writing, reading and spending time with her family in and around San Diego. HelenKay loves hearing from readers, so stop by her website at www.helenkaydimon.com and say hello.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Zach Bachman —This explosives and demolitions agent isn’t ready to give up. While the rest of the Recovery Project team switches to wait-and-see mode, Zach launches his own investigation into corruption in the Witness Security Program…and ends up in the middle of a kidnapping.

Sela Andrews —She is just trying to earn a living. She finally has a decent job and a safe place to live. It all seems perfect until she gets hit in the head and wakes up to see Zach in front of her. The question is whether he’s there to hurt her or to help.

Trevor Walters —He’s a powerful man with few weaknesses but his assistant Sela is one of them. When she’s taken he has to turn for help in the most unexpected place…but whether he can be trusted remains a question.

Rod Lehman —He worked as a handler in the Witness Security Program and retired to set up the Recovery Project. He’s a guy accustomed to finding people but now he’s the one who’s missing. His team worries he’s dead, but there are rumors he might be at the center of the murder conspiracy.

Vince Ritter —He is Rod’s former partner and a consultant to the Recovery Project…but no one on the team can tell which side he’s really on.

Luke Hathaway —As the interim head of the Recovery Project all the pressure is on him. He has to watch over Zach as he rescues the girl, protect the team and find the bad guy. Failing is not an option.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter One

Sela Andrews was five minutes away from walking into an ambush. Slumped down in his Jeep on the street outside her apartment, Zach Bachman watched the setup unfold.

The small split-screen monitor on his watch showed Sela approaching the elevator on the floor five stories above.

That wasn’t the problem, except for how clueless she appeared to be to the danger around her. The other shot centered on the building’s underground garage. There, in stall seventeen, not far from where Zach sat, a man fiddled with something under the hood of her car.

And not just any man. A guy dressed in black, his gaze skipping around the garage as if looking for witnesses. He’d even taken the time to disable the security camera. He just didn’t know he’d missed one—Zach’s.

Thanks to this development, Zach knew he had to break his word. When he’d convinced Adam Wright, his fellow Recovery Project agent, to tap into the cameras in Sela’s building, Zach promised to watch but not get involved. That wasn’t possible now. He pressed the green button on the bottom of his watch and sent Adam an emergency pulse. Just in case.

That left Sela. Going through the garage door was the faster route to cutting her off, but also the most likely to give away his position and get shot. Not his favorite activity, certainly not at this painfully early time of day. No, he had to do this the long and hard way.

Out of the car, he hit the building’s lobby at a run, stopping only to use the master key Adam had made for just this type of problem. Zach’s sneakers squeaked against the tile floor as he crossed in front of the elevator bank. He knew the schematics without thinking and headed for the emergency stairwell in the back corner.

As he raced down the stairs two at a time to the underground garage, his palm slid against the metal railing. The stale hot air of the enclosed space filled his lungs, but he didn’t stop. As they passed, he ignored the man stumbling up the stairs from what looked like a hard night of drinking. None of that mattered because Zach had to get there before she did.

He hit the landing, stopping only when momentum slammed his shoulder against the stairwell door. His breathing stayed steady and strong, a testament to his former military career and good conditioning.

He pressed his hand against the door and waited for the ding of the elevator bell to signal Sela’s entry into the garage.

Only silence greeted him.

The door creaked as he pulled it open and peered into the dark garage through the tiny slit. Nothing. Too much nothing. Everything was quiet.

No squealing tires. No engines running. At just after four in the morning on a summer weekend, no one else was in the garage. Not even a security guard. That might be usual for some parts of the country, but not for a city. This area of D.C. buzzed with some level of activity most of the time, but not this morning.

The emergency cones set up at the garage’s entrance likely played a role in that. Looked like this guy had thought of everything to give him the precious time needed to get to Sela. The real concern centered on the guy knowing Sela would be on the move in the early-morning hours on a Sunday. Zach had watched her for weeks and hadn’t anticipated her going out now. But this guy knew.

Not wanting to be too many steps behind, Zach slipped into the garage, keeping his back flat against the concrete wall. With one hand he caught the door before it slammed shut behind him. With the other he reached for the gun tucked into the holder on his hip.

Then he saw it. Behind a row of cars, something flashed. Possibly nothing, but just as likely a reflection of the attacker from all the metal overhead. It gave Zach a place to focus.

He slid down against the wall, debating whether to make his move and take the attacker out before he touched Sela or hold his position. The elevator bell ruined any chance of an offensive strike. He had no choice. The most dangerous option won out.

With a harsh hiss of profanity, he slunk back into the shadows. His insides screamed to grab Sela to safety, but his head knew the right answer. Bide his time. This—whatever was happening right now—could be the key to finding the information he needed on Trevor Walters, Sela’s boss, and the Recovery Project’s nemesis.

Zach couldn’t stop now, not when he was this close to his goal. He’d made a personal vow to find the evidence needed to catch Trevor once and for all, and Zach meant to keep it.

Sela stepped into the garage. Folders and paperwork weighed down her arms. Her sandy-blond hair fell loose in gentle curls around her shoulders. She hummed an off-key tune, seemingly oblivious to the choking gas fumes in the enclosed space.

Zach shook his head at her behavior. For a smart woman she acted pretty dumb. With her arms full, she couldn’t defend herself. Now he had to handle the job.

Moving in double time, she put a slim file between her teeth and wrestled her car keys out of the pocket of her black blazer. While juggling books and papers in one arm, she aimed the door opener at her car. The high-pitched chirp of the alarm echoed through the abandoned garage.

Zach shifted, trying to figure out the current location of the owner of the mysterious glint of light. When he glanced back at Sela, he realized the worst had happened. Her attacker had managed to sneak up on her, his cover protected thanks to her awful pseudosinging and the bulky back end of her SUV.

When she reached for the door handle, balancing her load on an upraised thigh, her stalker sprang into action. A metal object swooped down in an arc before connecting with her head. Zach jumped at the resounding whack as he watched her crumple to the cement. Papers fell in a swoosh and scattered. Her keys jangled, then skidded to a halt under her SUV. She didn’t have warning or time to scream.

The only sound came from the attacker a second later. “Got her,” he said into his cell phone, not bothering to lower his voice.

Zach muttered a harsh oath under his breath but forced his legs to remain still. His hands clenched and unclenched as he watched the attacker stuff Sela’s unmoving body into a rusty pickup truck parked a few spots away from hers. Slipping the small camera out of his pocket, he took the attacker’s photo. Got a shot of the truck, too. When the vehicle roared to life and started moving, Zach flipped into fast-forward. He hesitated only until the guy pulled away and out of sight, then Zach ran out of the garage entrance and up the ramp into the warm, dark morning.

In a silent crouch, he headed for the Jeep. It took less than a minute to get there and slide inside. The ignition turned over with little more than a soft purr. Leaving the lights off, he followed the truck at a safe distance, hanging back behind the few other cars on the road.

Keeping his gaze on the license plate in front of him, Zach hit the button on his watch to patch him into Recovery Project headquarters. Adam picked up on the first ring. He was the tech guy in their group. He had a series of cameras set up throughout the city and could track anything or anyone who was moving.

Before Adam could say a word, Zach jumped in. “I’m sending you a photo.”

“That’s nice of you. Thanks for dragging me out of bed, by the way.”

“I need an ID.”

“Got it.” The amusement left Adam’s voice this time. “This looks bad.”

“Also need you to do your satellite magic and follow a car for me in case I lose it. Track me and then look for the truck a short distance in front of me.”

“It’s not as easy as you make it sound, but I’ll figure it out.”

“And I can’t explain now, so don’t ask.” Zach hung up without any other discussion, knowing Adam would make it all work.

The rest, like saving the girl, was up to Zach.

SELA’S HEAD THROBBED. The muscles in her upper arms burned in agony. Her right cheek felt raw and puffy. Every part of her body, except maybe her nose, hurt like never before.

She tried to sit up but flopped back down when the world spun violently around her. Her hands weren’t bound, but the blinding soreness coursing through her body made even small movements difficult.

She remembered bits and pieces of the last few minutes. She’d gathered up her work and ran out of her apartment without doing her usual check. The rush to talk to her boss made her less than careful. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. She lived in Foggy Bottom, a nice part of Washington, D.C., home to a university, the infamous Watergate and Kennedy Center and rows of impressive brownstones.

But she had known someone was watching her. Could feel the eyes focus on her every time she stepped out her door, which was why she was headed to the office before dawn, before the city burst to life. Her nerves had buzzed until all she heard was a chaotic melody in her head. She remembered the garage and a crack against her skull. She bounced around a vehicle until her kidnapper treated her to another fist to the side of the head.

She’d experienced more violence in the past hour—or maybe minutes, she wasn’t even sure how much time has passed—than in her entire life up until that point. The good news, what little she could find, came from her ability to breathe. Whoever hit her hadn’t killed her. The only question was how long her good fortune would hold out.

“Mornin’, sunshine.” The feral voice shocked her into opening her sore eyes.

The brightness sent a new bolt of pain ricocheting around the inside of her brain. The harsh glow from the overhead light screamed through the room and forced her out of her slumber. She saw her attacker face-to-face and immediately missed the false safety of darkness.

A squeal raced to her lips, but she swallowed it back down. Greasy brown hair, narrow yellow-brown eyes and a dirt-stained blue jean jacket. The burly vermin balanced in front of her on his haunches, his stale breath hissing against the bruised skin on her face.

He was her nightmare.

Heck, he was every woman’s nightmare.

“Wake up, sweetie pie. It’s time for us to have some fun.”

She ignored his grim words as her gaze darted around the room. She needed an escape or something big enough to knock him over.

“What’s the matter? You not gonna talk?” His booming laugh filled the small space as he leaned in closer.

What he found so funny, she had no idea.

“I could make you talk. Scream for me, even.” Instead of following through with his threat, he pushed against his thighs and stood.

Sela let out the shaky breath suspended in her chest. From what she could see, she was in a one-room cabin with two possible exits—a window above the kitchen sink that was caked with filth, and the front door off to her left. A very solid-looking wooden door and she had to go through a disgusting guy to get there.

A metal card table and two folding chairs sat in front of the kitchenette lining the wall to her far right. The path to the front door looked miles away, even though the room could not have been more than fifteen feet wide.

She tried a second time to heave her aching body to a sitting position when a brisk knock at the front door stopped her. Her captor whipped out a small gun from behind his back and aimed it in the direction of the sound. Before Sela could scream for help he grabbed her shoulder and lifted her off the sofa.

The jarring move sent a new wave of pain rattling through her battered body. She whimpered but her captor silenced any sound by locking his elbow around her neck and dragging her, half-choking, across the room.

With his back against the door and the muzzle of his gun pressed against her forehead, he called out. “Who is it?”

“Open up,” came the muffled reply.

Sela struggled to identify the voice. From her attacker’s frown, she assumed he couldn’t place it, either.

Her attacker’s grip eased enough for circulation to rush back to her neck. She debated whether or not she could land a swift kick in this guy’s crotch. The idea of him falling to the ground in agony sure sounded good right about now.

“Johnnie? Let me in.” The door muffled the other man’s voice but his words were clear.

Her captor pressed the tip of the gun against the wooden door. “Who are you?”

“The boss sent me.”

“Not possible.”

Boss? The contents of Sela’s stomach spun and swished. The situation went from awful to unbelievable. She had to get out of there, and having two attackers wasn’t going to make that easy.

“This is your final warning. Open up,” the mystery guest yelled through the door.

When Johnnie unlocked the door, Sela felt the last of her hope shrivel.

Chapter Two

Zach heard the lock click and nearly ripped the cabin door off its hinges in the rush to get to Sela. He surged through the door and stopped. His gun never wavered. It aimed right at Johnnie’s forehead in a weapons standoff.

Adam had tracked this guy, Johnnie Weed, down and sent over his criminal record via secured text. Sounded like Johnnie liked to hurt women. Zach decided on the race through back roads that he wouldn’t need backup to take care of Johnnie if he touched Sela. He would tear the other man apart with his bare hands.

Right now the shock on Johnnie’s face matched the fear on Sela’s. “I don’t know you,” Johnnie said.

Zach forced his lungs to inflate, then slowly released his held breath. His gaze moved over her, checking for any sign of injury. A fierce bruise already marred her cheek. Her short skirt was hiked up high on her thighs, and it looked as if her scuffed pumps were the only things holding her tattered panty hose to her legs.

Rage filled his brain until he had to fight the urge to kill Johnnie right there. Instead, Zach nodded in Sela’s direction with a studied coolness he didn’t feel. “Let her go.”

Johnnie kept his arm locked around her slim throat as he held her just out of Zach’s easy reach. “This ain’t your business.”

Johnnie’s gun shifted next to her face. Zach concentrated on the weapon so he didn’t have to see the confusion move over her.

Yeah, she knew him. He could tell by the way her eyes narrowed and her mouth fell into a grim line. Identifying him sure didn’t mean she was happy to see him. She looked the exact opposite of relieved.

And Zach could guess why. The Recovery Project made it a priority to discover everything about Trevor Walters and it would be dumb to assume he didn’t return the favor. Zach guessed his team’s photos were all over Trevor’s office and since Sela was Trevor’s assistant she knew all the details.

“Put that thing down before you hurt her.” Zach issued the order as he plotted a way to inflict some hurt of his own on Johnnie.

“Why do you get a say?”

“Just do it.”

“Do ya think you’re in charge?”

Zach’s hand snaked out with lightning speed. He grabbed the barrel of Johnnie’s gun and snatched it away. With the other arm, Zach elbowed Johnnie under the jaw. The man’s head whipped back from the offensive strike, and he lost his grip on Sela. She spun to the side and landed on the dusty floor with a soft groan.

Zach moved in. He slammed Johnnie in the nose with the heel of his hand. The sudden whack worked as planned. Johnnie howled in pain as blood spurted.

“I’m in charge around here, Johnnie. Don’t forget it.”

“Why did ya hit me?” The guy practically squealed the question.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did.”

“Did the boss really send you?”

Zach treated Johnnie to a look of disgust. “Clean yourself up.”

Johnnie crawled to his feet and grabbed for the dirty kitchen towel hanging over the faucet. “You broke my nose.”

Hurting Johnnie felt good. Too good. Zach cursed his lack of control. He’d finally wrestled the animal part of him into submission only to find his hold weak.

Sela picked that moment to make a mad dash for the door. The woman had a lousy sense of timing.

She ducked low and tried to barrel past him. She might have made it, too, except he was ready. He knew she was a born fighter. He’d studied her, followed her and watched her day after day for weeks. The person who ordered her kidnapping might underestimate her survival instinct. Zach didn’t plan to make that mistake.

He snatched her around her slim waist and lifted her into the air, pressing her back against the full length of his body with as gentle a touch as possible. “Whoa, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Let me go.” Labored breathing strained her voice.

When he squeezed her midsection, she let out a shocked yelp of distress. He turned her around so their noses almost touched. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She pushed against him, her small fists knocking against his chest in a futile attempt to break free. “Don’t touch me.”

Zach captured her hands in his and pulled her body tight against him. Each slope and contour of her fit him like a perfect puzzle piece.

“Settle down,” he said.

She ignored him. She grunted and shoved at him.

“Are you hurt?” He conducted a visual tour, looking for signs of obvious injury.

“What do you care?” Her eyes promised mutiny.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Zach scowled at Johnnie where he leaned over the nearby sink, and once again debated killing him. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Zach could not get off his game. Not yet. There would be time to talk and figure out why Johnnie picked today and who hired him, but this wasn’t it. Reacting to her distress would distract him and kill them both.

“You touch her, Johnnie, you die. You understand me?”

“Well, well, well.” Johnnie threw the stained towel in the sink. “Big man thinks he owns the woman.”

Adrenaline pumped through Zach. His only thought was to protect Sela. That was his job. Didn’t matter if it was a formal operation or a self-imposed assignment. He’d taken on that role the second he started watching her.

The blow came out of nowhere.

One minute Johnnie skulked around, head down and shoulders slumped with a general air of defeat. The next he snarled like a wild animal. He aimed his full body weight for Zach’s stomach. Anticipating the hit, Zach moved to the side at the last minute and pushed Sela out of the fray.

Johnnie didn’t stop. He launched a second strike. This one with fists. Zach blocked a wild punch and sent Johnnie spinning into the couch. Zach outweighed his attacker by a good thirty pounds and he had been trained to fight. Trained by the best to kill.

A kick straight to the stomach and the fight ended with Johnnie rolling on the floor, holding his bruised ribs. In those precious final minutes of battle Zach feared he had gone over the edge, that his tenuous hold on his control had finally snapped, speeding him across that imaginary line between good and evil.

Thinking about Johnnie hurting Sela torched Zach’s insides. He barely knew her, but that didn’t matter. There were some things a man didn’t do. Smacking a woman around was at the dead top of the list.

Zach inhaled long and deep, hoping to calm the madness brewing inside of him. When his breathing returned to normal he tipped his head back against the wall and looked around the room.

Sela was gone.

“CARE TO TELL ME what that was about?” Luke Hathaway stood staring at the wall of computer monitors in the Recovery Project’s warehouse headquarters. With one hand balanced against the console, he hovered. He was good at hovering.

Ever since Recovery had lost its government funding and disbanded as a quasi-official agency, it operated even deeper undercover. When Rod Lehman had disappeared—the man who’d handpicked the Recovery members and set the group’s mission—Luke had stepped up to serve as de facto leader.

A serious injury to his shoulder made him a possible vulnerability to his fellow agents in the field. Not that he regretted the move that took away partial use of his arm since it happened while saving his wife, Claire, the love of his life and the person who now bankrolled the Recovery Project.

But the change in financing meant no more fancy downtown Washington, D.C., offices with the fake cover of an antiques salvage operation. No more formal law-enforcement assistance. No more protection if they stepped too close to the line. That was all long gone. Now they had a nondescript beige warehouse by the southwest waterfront. It didn’t look like much but the technology inside rivaled that of any government intelligence agency thanks to Adam’s technical expertise.

Being in command, taking the lead but often staying behind when the bullets started flying, let Luke play a major role without his unwanted disability causing a problem for his team. It also allowed him to focus and make sure the group’s original mission never changed. They specialized in finding missing people, those who were taken against their will and those who disappeared on purpose. Locating Rod, now presumed dead, was their main job and a constant source of frustration. They were experts, could find almost anyone, and they couldn’t find this one man who meant so much.

Since they’d just come off a series of cases uncovering corruption in the Witness Security Program— WitSec—that left several of the program participants dead in a cash-for-information scheme by the very officials charged with protecting them, the Recovery agents were all exhausted. They were supposed to be taking a short break to regroup and figure out what role Trevor Walters, the very rich, very connected and very dirty owner of Orion Industries, played in the WitSec murders. And if he had a partner. Which meant Adam and Zach shouldn’t be handling an operation, and certainly shouldn’t being doing so without Luke’s involvement.

The only reason Luke knew to get there this morning was his emergency alarm went off when the building’s tracking devices started humming. That meant either Adam was working instead of sleeping with his new girlfriend Maddie in the loft above the team’s workspace or someone had broken in. Either way, Luke had to move. He left his house in the capable hands of fellow team member Caleb Mattern, who was also in charge of watching over Claire and Caleb’s new wife, Avery. They were two women determined to help even if it meant danger, which made protecting them an even bigger challenge. But Caleb was up to the task.

Skipping his usual morning coffee and a few extra hours in bed with his pregnant wife made Luke more than a little frustrated. Things would only get worse in a few minutes when the caffeine headache kicked in.

“I’ll ask again. This obviously isn’t a drill since I didn’t schedule one, so what is Zach doing?” This time Luke loomed behind Adam, making sure he couldn’t move his chair without slamming into either the desk in front of him or Luke behind him.

“You sure you want to know?”

“Details.”

When Adam tried to spin around this time, Luke stepped back. Adam’s lack of eye contact told Luke most of what he needed to know.

“Someone grabbed Trevor’s assistant,” Adam said.

“Sela Andrews?”

“That’s the one.”

“Where is she now?”

“With Zach.”

Luke blew out a long breath. “Okay, and where is he?”

Adam glanced over his shoulder at the monitor. “Western Maryland. He hasn’t checked in since he left the car to get her, but his watch is on. I can hear everything.”

“It’s bad?”

“It’s not good, but Zach has it under control.” Adam cleared his throat. “For now.”

“Get out there. I’ll take care of the communications on this end and watch over Maddie.” When Adam didn’t move, Luke motioned for him to get up.

“I might not get there in time,” Adam said.

“Go. Use back roads. Borrow a helicopter if you have to. Move in fast and keep talking so I know where you are.”

Adam went to the weapons cabinet and typed in the security code. He loaded up with three guns, a knife and a bag of small explosives and headed for the door. He turned back right as the metal closure to the attached garage slid open. “Hey, Luke?”

Luke didn’t look up from the monitors and their focus on the darkness around Zach’s car. “Yeah?”

“Sorry we hid this one from you.”

Luke understood. The drive to rescue was ingrained in the men he fought beside. So was the need to find Rod and have an answer, whatever it was.

Other than Rod, the only person known to have information on the WitSec scam—the side job Rod was working on when he disappeared—was Trevor Walters. The one person close to Trevor was Sela. That made her a priority.

Luke nodded. “Later Zach can give us all an explanation of why he was close enough to Sela to watch her get kidnapped.”

“About that—”

“Get the woman out alive and figure out who tried to snatch her and why. We’ll handle the rest once she’s safe.”

“Thanks.”

“Just get there.” Luke made the statement to the silent room, but he knew Adam understood. One second too late and Zach would be a dead man.

Chapter Three

Sela raced into the dense woods off to the right of the cabin, wishing the sun would just rise already and shed some light on her path. Her thin heels dug into mud, her ankles twisting with each step. She ran blind, having no idea of direction or what she would do if she managed to reach anywhere else.

The humid breeze pressed against her face, stealing her last breath. She gasped, her throat grabbing for air as the smell of pine filled her head. Through watery eyes she glanced back at the dilapidated cabin.

Zach Bachman. She had a thick file on him sitting on the corner of her desk. She had one for every member of the Recovery Project. Trevor watched every move they made. He never explained why, but he did make it clear he respected the team’s resources. That didn’t mean he trusted them, and she followed his lead.

Sela didn’t understand the benefit of keeping tabs on Zach and his fellow agents, but she did what she was told. She owed Trevor that much and now it paid off. She could identify one of the men fighting over her. She just hoped she lived long enough to turn Zach’s name over to the police. Let him explain what he was doing with Johnnie. So long as she was safe, she didn’t care.

But stray thoughts kept hitting her even as she made her exit. Having Zach show up tonight made her wonder if he was one of the good guys or if he was with them. She didn’t even know who “them” was or why they wanted her, but she wasn’t stupid. Her employer, Orion Industries, specialized in threat management. They provided intelligence and paramilitary personnel to foreign governments and international corporations. Working for the owner made her a target.

Those awful rumors about her being more than an employee only made things worse. She hadn’t understood that until she got hit in the head and kidnapped.

She couldn’t afford to stick around now and try to put the pieces together. She certainly couldn’t be sure Zach would win this round. At six-foot-something, he had the advantage over the guy Johnnie. The sleek muscles peeking out under Zach’s black T-shirt also tilted the fight in his direction, but she wasn’t taking the chance that his broad chest and lethal reputation guaranteed a win. And she most definitely couldn’t be sure if he did win, he wouldn’t harm her. No, there were too many risks for her to trust anyone in that cabin.

When her ankle twisted, she reached out to catch her balance and scraped her palm against rough bark. Half hiding, half leaning, she pressed her back against a tree and tried to get her bearings. She needed to find her internal compass. Figure out which way was north, or south, or any other direction that led out of there.

A sharp smack echoed through the woods as the cabin door slammed open. A dark figure filled the entrance, but the light behind him plunged his face into shadows.

She didn’t wait for another sign. Her brain flashed a message to her legs to move. She ran toward the dark lump in the distance, hoping it was a car or anything she could hide in. Twigs snagged her already ruined stockings and branches scraped against her forearms as she tried to protect her face.

She ignored everything around her—all the sounds of shifting and moving coming from the dark woods—except the path beneath her feet. She absolutely had to stay on her feet.

As soon as the thought entered her mind her right foot slid out from under her. Her upper body went into free fall. She put out her arms to lessen the impact and landed on all fours on the hard ground. Her kneecap suffered the brunt of the blow.

She heard crunching and harsh breathing behind her and looked up in time to see the branches behind her shift to the side.

“Sela, don’t move!” The harsh whisper echoed around her.

Zach.

She couldn’t see him, but she sensed him. Heard him. Short brown hair and a lean body that proved he had not gone soft since his days in the military. He’d found her.

She tried to climb to her feet, but he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up as if she weighed little more than a kitchen towel. She kicked out her legs and fought him anyway.

“Stop,” he ordered.

That was never going to happen. The fear pumping through her had her keyed up and ready for battle. She called him every name she could think of.

He coughed when she landed a heel in his shin. “I have parents.”

She stilled. “What?”

“They’re likely sitting on a sofa in Pennsylvania.”

“I don’t—”

“So that particular nickname you just called me doesn’t apply.”

“You’re joking? Now?” Did he think it would calm her down? Because it did and the realization made her furious.

“Do you have a better strategy?” he asked.

“Yeah, we get out of here before Johnnie finds us.” Hope skipped through her. “Unless you killed him.”

“First, keep your voice down.” Zach’s grip loosened but not enough for her to slip away. “Second, he’s very much alive. Bleeding and dumb as a stick, but alive.”

For some reason, that struck her as the wrong answer. “Why?”

Zach pressed a finger against his lips. “Quiet.”

She batted away his hand. “Answer me. Why didn’t you just kill him and be done with it?”

“Bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea why you showed up when you did, but I’ve got to get out of here.” She lowered her voice when Zach scowled. “You can either help me or not, but I’m going.”

When she started squirming again, he clamped her feet between his legs and trapped her arms by her sides. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I’m going to hurt you.” She clenched her teeth together and strained her neck. She tried to lift her arms but his iron hold settled around her again.

“Probably, but then you won’t have any way out of here. Now, stop.” Zach whispered his harsh command against her ear.

She froze this time. No movement at all.

“Are we leaving?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Wrong answer. “When will you be?”

“I’m still deciding the best way to proceed, but I can think of better places to spend an evening than with that guy.” Zach’s voice softened, but his grip sure didn’t.

“What are you talking about?”

“In case you didn’t notice, the creature in that cabin wants you dead or, at the very least, plans to take you to someone who does.”

“Do you know who?”

“No. I made up the boss thing to get entrance and buy some time.”

So he wasn’t one of them. She relaxed a bit, until she felt a tug on her skirt. When Zach bent over and tunneled a hand up her hemline, she froze. “If you’re not one of the bad guys, what are you doing?”

“Just a sec.” He kept working, his fingers pulling and twisting. “I have to take care of it now.”

“What is the ‘it’ exactly?” The staccato sound of her breathing filled her ears. She hovered right on the edge of panic. If she could keep her wits, she might be able to land a kick on the side of his head. But she had to stop shaking first.

“This.”

She thought he pointed to her thigh. “You’ve seen a woman’s legs before.”

“Once or twice.” His hand kept moving then he looked up. “Why are you humming?”

The buzzing sound in her ears stopped. “Am I?”

“You did that in the garage, too. Must be a nervous habit.”

Rage swelled in her brain. “You were there and didn’t stop that creature from taking me?”

“There was no time.”

Fury flooded through her, wiping out the shakes and every other feeling except anger. “You could have shot him.”

“I like the way you think.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Stay still.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. With a click, a blade appeared.

So he was a bad guy, after all.

No way would she be a victim. Not anymore.

She smacked her fists against his shoulders. “I won’t let you hurt me.”

“Not one for the obvious, are you?” Zach kept one arm banded around her waist and his opposite hand held the knife as he ducked his head to fend off her blows.

She punched him harder. “The obvious is you want me dead.”

He grabbed one of her hands. “For the record, I want you very much alive.”

At his words she stopped fighting. “I don’t understand.”

“A branch is caught in your skirt. I’m trying to figure out if it penetrated skin.” He sliced through the hem and held up a sharp stick. “See? Looks like you have a cut but nothing needing stitches.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t even felt it.

All the confusion and pain and terror of the last few hours slammed into her, leaving her bones weary and her mind blank. Men were after her and she didn’t know why. A guy she didn’t trust held her and for some reason his closeness made her feel safe. None of it made sense.

“I was thinking of something more along the lines of ‘Why, thank you, Zach,’ because you know exactly who I am and who I work for, right?” He stood and stared down at her.

“Yes.”

“I’m assuming that’s why you aren’t kicking up an even bigger fuss.”

She let her shoulders slump. “Sort of.”

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome.” He glanced toward the cabin. “Any chance you know Johnnie or who sent him?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I still have to figure out how to get you out of this mess and what’s really happening here.”

She breathed in nice and deep, trying to feed oxygen to her brain. “Call my boss or the police—anyone—and get us help.”

“I’m actually trying to be quiet and not say anything that would accidentally give our location away to Johnnie there. You could take a hint and keep your voice down.” Zach barely made a sound as he spoke.

He put a few inches between them but kept a firm grip on her elbow. The only part of her that didn’t throb in pain.

“Time to go,” he said.

“Where?”

“We’ll figure that out later.” He glanced back at the cabin. “We need to move.”

They took two steps before the sound of gunfire rang through the woods. Air whooshed around her as Zach shoved her behind the nearest tree and covered her body with his.

“Johnnie?” she asked.

Zach’s heated breath grazed her cheek, but his gaze stayed focused on the cabin. “I’d hate to think someone else showed up to the party.”

She pushed against his broad shoulders to get his attention. “What is he shooting at us with?”

Zach frowned at her. “A gun. What do you think?”

She thought about punching him. “Why didn’t you take his weapon?”

Johnnie kept screaming out her name. Every now and then he’d add a threat or switch the words around to be as profane as possible, but the message didn’t change. Johnnie wanted them back.

“I did. But I didn’t think he’d have the brains to hide another weapon in the cabin.” Zach wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “Score one for Johnnie.”

“I thought you were some superspy type.”

“That’s a terrible description and no.” Zach glanced at his watch and clicked a few buttons. “Okay. Change of plans.”

He’d totally lost her. “Which means?”

“We’re going back inside the cabin.”

“Are you kidding?” He put a hand over her mouth as she started to shriek. She mumbled the rest of her question into his palm.

“I almost never kid.”

She shrugged off his hand and tried unsuccessfully to step back but ran right her foot into the tree behind her. “Absolutely not.”

Zach exhaled. “The only way out of here is through Johnnie.”

“You came in a car. We’ll leave in it.” She grabbed Zach’s shirt in an effort to reason with him. Looking into those greenish-blue eyes, she tried to will him to help her.

“We have to know who Johnnie is working for. At the very least, we need to make sure he doesn’t call in reinforcements.”

“You know people.”

“True, and I’ve sent an emergency signal to them. They’re on the way, but I don’t know who Johnnie’s boss is. I only know his name because he was dumb enough to use his own car when he kidnapped you.” Zach hauled her to his side with a gentle tug.

“What does any of that have to do with getting out of here?”

“Right now my biggest worry is the people who will come for you next if we don’t stop Johnnie and get some answers.”

The words sent a new bolt of fear spinning through her. “I’ll go to Trevor.”

“I’m not sure that’s safer.”

“He’s my boss.”

“Maybe, but for now you’re stuck with me.” Zach marched her back to the cabin, balancing her weight against him as her shoes slipped.

She tried to postpone the inevitable but nothing worked. Her so-called rescuer was leading her right back to the beast, dragging her along in big steps and not giving her a choice. A few more feet and he’d hand her off and she’d know for sure just which side Zach was on. And she feared it wasn’t hers.

“Zach, please.”

“Follow my lead.” He gave his order right as he dumped her at the base of the front steps. Right in front of Johnnie.

“You’re a dead man.” The harsh yellow porch light made Johnnie’s pale face look jaundiced.

Sela couldn’t remember ever seeing a person look that color. Not a live one, anyway.

Zach treated Johnnie like a speck of dirt. “Get out of my way.”

“No way, man,” Johnnie snarled, his eyes glazed over and his ripped and bloody clothing hung from his body. “I don’t know who you are, but she stays with me.”

“Who paid you to start thinking, Johnnie?”

Sela closed her eyes as her head began to spin. This couldn’t be happening. The scene reminded her of two rabid dogs fighting over a piece of meat. First time in her life she saw herself as nothing more than food.

“The boss needs some information from her. That means I gotta hurt her bad.”

“If you touch me, I’ll kill you,” she said.

“I got the gun, so I make the rules.” Johnnie thumped the barrel against his chest as he sneered at Zach. “What do you say to that?”

Zach nodded, the movement slow and deliberate. “Okay, Johnnie.”

“Stop talking like we know each other. We don’t.”

“Right. You make the rules.”

A new wave of panic washed over her. “Zach, what are you—”

“It will be fine.” His grip on her arm loosened.

“Don’t you dare give me over to this guy. I will hunt you down and…” Something. She’d do something nasty and violent if Zach abandoned her now.

Her hands clutched at his shirt. She’d pull out every one of his chest hairs and then rip through him if she had to in order to make her point. When Zach stared at her with cold eyes, a bolt of fear crashed through her. Then she heard it. A whisper so low she thought she slipped into a dream. “Trust me.”

Trust me? At Zach’s toneless murmur she wanted to run, to scream for help. To do all the things that would seal her death.

Before she could argue, he set her to the side, steadying her with one hand. He made one last command, this one in a much stronger and louder voice for Johnnie to hear. “Stay. I’m not chasing you around the woods again, woman.”

“That’s right,” Johnnie said.

Zach turned back to Johnnie. “Okay, my arms are free. No weapons. No bullets. You want to see who’s in charge of the lady now?”

Johnnie nodded in Zach’s general direction. “Where’s your gun and the one you took from me? I want that back.”

“Lost mine and yours is still in the cabin.”

She hoped that wasn’t true. In fact, she counted on it being a lie from Zach meant to throw the attacker off. Johnnie was just dumb enough and out of it enough to believe him.

Johnnie’s gaze clouded. “No way, man.”

Or not. She inhaled, hoping Zach had another plan since this one seemed doomed to fail.

“If I had a weapon it would be aimed at you right now,” Zach said.

“I’ve seen you fight with fists. That was bad enough.” Johnnie looked from Zach to her and back again. Sweat formed in the dirty creases on his forehead as desperation sparked behind his cold eyes.

“Thought you wanted to battle man-to-man,” Zach said.

“I have a better idea.” Johnnie pointed the gun at her. “Come here.”

“Never going to happen.” The hours of being bait ended now. She was done being a pawn in this screwed-up game.

Johnnie spit a wad of blood onto the porch. “Now, lady.”

Zach held out an arm and blocked her path. “Stay right where you are.”

“You don’t want to fight me,” Johnnie said.

Zach held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. So, why don’t you put the gun down?”

If she hadn’t been watching Zach so closely she might not have seen the sharp blade peek out from the edge of his shirtsleeve.

“No deal,” Johnnie said.

“I’m going to put my hands down.”

“Fine, man, but I ain’t dropping the gun.”

“Well, hell, just don’t shoot me by accident.” The hard edge left Zach’s voice, as if he were joking with a friend instead of staring down the barrel of a gun with an idiot attached to the other end. “I don’t know any woman worth being shot for, do you?”

Johnnie hesitated, then let out a cackling laugh. Within seconds the obscene sound turned to a wheezing cough. “Only good for one thing.”

Zach frowned at the other man. “You okay?”

“Let’s hope not,” she mumbled under her breath.

Johnnie tried to suck in air. “I think you broke my rib.”

Zach whistled through clenched teeth. “Man, I start fighting and something takes over.”

“You’re insane when you throw punches.”

“You have no idea.” Zach lowered his hands at the same time Johnnie eased his grip on the gun.

As soon as Johnnie pointed the barrel toward the cracked wooden porch, Zach brought his arm down in an arc and sent the knife slicing through the air. The blade shot in a direct line and lodged with a sickening thud in Johnnie’s shoulder.

He squealed as his gun fell to the hard floor and his body slammed into the porch post. In a flurry of profanity, he slipped to the ground. A crimson stain seeped from around the new wound.

Sela wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move. Too much of her energy went to keep from screaming. She didn’t have anything left in that second for an escape.

Zach kicked Johnnie’s gun, sending it sliding off the edge of the porch. In the next breath, Zach snatched his supposedly lost gun from behind his back and aimed it at Johnnie. “Don’t you ever threaten her again.”

Johnnie heaved and coughed. “Whatcha want with her?”

“That’s my business.”

Wrong, it was her business. And not knowing provided the perfect reason to get the hell out of there. She inched back toward the wall and started to do just that. If she could keep Zach focused on Johnnie, she had a chance to escape. To where, she had no idea. Preferably somewhere without a gun.

“Don’t even think about it, Sela.”

She froze at the sound of Zach’s husky voice. “What?”

“Whatever it is you’re planning in that head of yours.”

“I didn’t… I…”

“You’re coming inside with me.”

Wrong, wrong, wrong. She’d tried playing along. Maybe begging would work. “Let me go, Zach, please.”

“This isn’t a bargain.” He grabbed her elbow. “We have some things to talk about.”

She tried to break his hold but wasn’t any more successful this time than the last. “You’re going to regret this.”

“I have no doubt.”

Chapter Four

Trevor Walters paced the length of his office from the door to the windows towering behind his desk. With every step, the memory of the call played in his mind. The toneless whisper of the male voice and the threat.

It is over. All ends will be tied.

That was three weeks ago. Three weeks after the WitSec mess screamed to a halt and he reached a tenuous new peace agreement with the Recovery Project. Even now he waited for the windows to implode and the agents to storm in with guns at the ready.

Except for the soft hum of the computers set up on the credenza, the executive suite remained quiet. The main offices one floor down buzzed with the usual decreased level of weekend-morning activity. His was an around-the-clock business. He set strategies in place for businesses that sent employees into dangerous locations. He could handle the worst, often did.

Ever since Recovery agent Adam Wright breached the office’s security and infiltrated Trevor’s office with weapons aimed at his head, no one got up on the private elevator and his floor without his express approval. He hadn’t granted it to anyone except the two guards stationed by the elevator. Visitors or Orion employees trying to get in would need the security codes and the guts to get through men with guns.

Except for Sela. She worked on the floor. She belonged there.

Being at work on a Sunday wasn’t unusual for him, but he was there on this Sunday, at this predawn hour, because she called with an emergency. Since starting as his assistant almost a year before, she’d been consistent. His most loyal supporter. As his life fell apart and his ex-wife raged in the newspapers about the need to limit his access to their son, Sela stood strong.

She ignored the whispered comments about sleeping with the boss and concentrated on her work. In return, he piled even more responsibility on her. She was the only one who knew about the extent of his surveillance on the Recovery agents. She coordinated the information he gathered and kept her mouth shut.

She was a valued assistant. And she was running late today. That never happened. From the wobble in her voice, the rushed words over the phone a few hours earlier, he knew something had happened.

Now she didn’t answer her home phone or cell. Her desk chair was empty and she didn’t leave a message after the one begging him to come to the office immediately.

She was missing.

Sela, with her integral knowledge of his dealings, could very well be a loose end to be tied. Her death would guarantee her silence and his.

Trevor didn’t waste another minute. He slipped between his desk and his chair. Typing in the code to his bottom right drawer, he opened the small safe and pulled out the gun. He brushed his fingers over the cool metal. The weapon felt good in his hands, solid.

He ran a multi-million-dollar business, but he wasn’t the type to just sit behind a desk. He’d taken the time to learn how to shoot. And he would use those skills to protect Sela. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

SELA SAT ON THE COUCH and rubbed her knee. The chair barricading the door ensured she couldn’t get out before Zach could get to her.

But that didn’t stop her from talking. “Zach, you’re not listening to me.”

He stopped counting the number of times she said that sentence. Pretty soon he’d need a calculator to do the addition. “That’s right.”

“You have a chance here.”

“Uh-huh. A chance.” He rattled around the kitchen drawers until he found rope sturdy enough to hold Johnnie once he regained consciousness.

Zach checked for weapons. Also looked for a phone and evidence of a partner or a real boss. This time.

Seeing Sela run into the dark woods had rocked his concentration enough to make him screw up that big. In his rush to get to her before anyone else could grab her, he’d failed to watch his flank. He’d let Johnnie launch an offensive strike that could have taken Sela out, anyway.

Zach wanted to kick his own butt for missing the obvious.

And Sela wanted to talk him to death.

Somewhere in the past few minutes she’d decided he was one of the bad guys and was set on redeeming him. She kept up her motivational speech from her seat on the couch. “You’re on a road to nowhere.”

“Actually, I’m not sure what town we’re in.”

“What?”

“Nowhere is probably ten miles to our east.” He wrapped the rope around Johnnie’s legs and arms and pulled tight, making a perfect military knot.

While Sela lobbied her position, Zach did what he could to stop the bleeding on Johnnie’s shoulder and chest. He added a gag, just in case Johnnie woke up yelling. As a final protection, Zach dragged the injured man across the floor and locked him in the tiny bathroom. No need to see him if he wasn’t conscious to answer questions.

“He could die in there,” she pointed out when Zach returned to stand in front of her at the couch.

“I’m rarely that lucky.”

“Zach.”

Hearing her say his name, with her big brown eyes all soft and hopeful, made him feel something. He couldn’t put a name to the feeling but an unsettling sense of lightness poured over him. Rather than deal with that unknown, he focused on his other problem. Getting them out of there alive.

She had other ideas. “You’re still not listening to me.”

“I’m trying very hard not to, but you sure are not making it easy.”

Her chin raised and a deep red stained her cheeks. He’d seen that look many times since he’d started watching her. There was something else, too. Her eyes, glazed with distress and fear, told a different story.

He felt like a piece of crap for not seeing it sooner. She had to be in pain. A bruise marked her soft skin. A torn blouse. Swollen knee. Seeing her hurt made him sick.

He didn’t dwell on the sympathy but there it was, pulsing in the dark spot in the back of his mind. “Let me see your leg and check that cut.”

She braced her hands against the sofa cushions. “I’m fine.”

And ticked off. The beautiful woman with the model face and stripper body definitely was not happy.

Leaning down on one knee, he met her face-to-face. “Don’t be a hero, Sela. You’re injured.”

“So are you. Johnnie landed a punch or two.”

Zach pretended to be offended. “Is that a comment on my manhood?”

“Take it however you want.”

“Men are sensitive about stuff like that, you know.”

“Johnnie needs medical attention.”

She knew how to kill a decent try at chitchat. “Like I care.”

“You’ll care if he’s dead and you’re on trial for his murder.”

“You’re the one who wanted to know why I didn’t shoot him earlier.”

“That was adrenaline talking.”

“Well, Johnnie is lucky I didn’t kill him.” Zach sent a disgusted look in the direction of the locked bathroom. “I might yet.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He scoffed. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re not a killer.”

The matter-of-fact way she said it stunned him. “Sounds as if you’ve had a change of heart about me.”

When he leaned forward, she pulled back, forcing her bruised body deeper into the couch cushions and away from him. “Not that much.”

“I’m trying to help.”

“If you want to help, drive me home. Call Trevor. Do whatever you need to do so I can talk to the police.” Her voice dropped. “Or just leave me alone.”

Hearing her talk about Trevor—her boss and suspected lover—made Zach’s jaw clench tight. “Not going to happen.”

“Which part?”

“Any part.” Especially the part where he left her alone.

He slipped his hands under the hem of her skirt. Ignoring her slapping hands and yelp of surprise, he skimmed what was left of her tattered stockings down her legs and ripped them from around her injured knee.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a voice more breathy than firm.

Yeah, what was he doing? More bad timing. This time his.

Concentrating on her bruise instead of the silky feel of her skin proved impossible. It hit him out of nowhere and without warning. He wanted her.

He knew she was messed up with Trevor, a man Zach despised. She was likely sleeping with the guy, caught up in whatever garbage Trevor had going. But no matter how hard Zach tried to make that matter, it didn’t. After all those days of watching her, studying her, Sela’s image played in his mind, and he could not figure out a way to shake her loose.

He swore under his breath, berating his lack of control. She’d been hurt and mistreated. She’d probably just experienced the worst three hours of her life. All he could think about was bunching that businesslike skirt around her waist.

He had become an animal.

“Well?” she asked.

He swallowed down a lump of unwanted attraction. “It’s not broken, just badly bruised and a bit cut up.”

“Tell me why,” she said.

“I’m not a medical expert, but a bruise has something to do with blood pooling under the skin.”

“Not that.” Her face didn’t show any emotion. “Why did you save me from Johnnie only to drag me back here and continue to keep me against my will?”

Because reinforcements were on the way. Zach knew if he had any hope of finding out the person behind Sela’s kidnapping, he needed to stay put. Knowing Adam was heading there right now made holding the position a bit easier, but Zach still hated being out in the open in a situation he couldn’t control.

“It’s not over,” Zach said.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you tend to talk in half sentences?”

“Once or twice.” With as gentle a touch as possible, he probed the area around her knee. Sela winced and squirmed but stayed quiet. He knew she feared letting him see her weakness. He admired that.

“Call the police.”

“Your knee will feel better in a minute.” He unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it off his shoulders. His sore ribs protested, but it was more important to keep Sela’s knee immobilized and stable than to worry about his battered insides.

He stripped down to his white undershirt and folded his dark shirt into a long, slim bandage. “I know it’s not clean but it should work okay.”

Sela’s body turned to marble. The sudden change caught his attention. His gaze shot up to meet hers. Her seething anger evaporated and in its place came surprise.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

She blinked several times. “Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed. “Tell me.”

When she continued to stare over his shoulder with her mouth clamped shut, he gave up and wrapped her knee. “Better?”

“You keep ignoring my questions. What are we going to do now?” she asked, this time her voice a bit less shaky.

“We’re not going to do anything.”

She leaned against the cushions. “We’re just going to sit here?” If her bulging eyes were any indication, she didn’t like the idea.

“For a second.” He glanced at his watch.

“Care to tell me why?”

“I need to keep Johnnie covered so he doesn’t call in more guys to pick up where he failed. I also want him dragged in and questioned.”

“What does that have to do with us sitting here?”

“I can’t do it alone. We’re waiting for reinforcements.”

“You mean more Recovery agents.” Her mouth twisted as if she’d just smelled spoiled milk.

“You don’t sound too happy about that.”

“No.”

“What did we ever do to you?”

“Adam Wright threatened to kill me.”

The news surprised Zach…and it didn’t. When Adam had thought Trevor kidnapped Maddie, Adam’s woman, he’d stormed into Orion with guns loaded. Sela had tried to get in the way, which was one of the things Zach both admired and upset him about her. Loyalty was an impressive commodity. Too bad sleeping with Trevor blew every positive attribute apart.

Zach cleared his throat as he blinked the disturbing idea from his mind. “I’m thinking you’re exaggerating.”

“He held a gun on me.”

“Well, yeah, that sounds like him.” Zach could imagine that happening. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll force him to apologize the second he gets here.”

“When will that be?”

Zach stared at his watch one more time. “Good question.”

“Could you narrow it down?”

“My guess is about five minutes from now.”

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