Smith stepped forward. “Ready?”

  She nodded. “We heading back to my apartment?”

  “No.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ve decided that you’re moving in with me.”

  She heard all the team go silent. Kinsey blinked. “What?”

  “Until we know for sure that you’re safe, you stay at my place.”

  Behind her, she heard Blair and Callie start to laugh.

  * * *

  Smith drove the SUV out of Vegas, Kinsey quiet beside him in the passenger seat. They were headed west, toward the Spring Mountains.

  They’d stopped at her apartment, and she’d packed some clothes and things she needed. They left the city behind, and traded it for open space.

  She frowned out the window. “Where do you live?”

  “Have a cabin out here.”

  She smiled. “I couldn’t picture you living in a condo, with neighbors. This makes much more sense.”

  But Smith saw the smile dissolve, and the worry was back in her eyes again.

  “Hey.” He reached over and gripped her knee. “You’re safe.”

  She nodded. “I know.” But the shadows in her eyes didn’t lessen.

  “You trust me?”

  She glanced at him. “Yes.”

  “No one is getting to you.”

  “Okay.”

  He squeezed her knee, and then turned off the main road.

  “Are you in the mountains?” she asked.

  “No. At the base of them.” His place was close enough for him to enjoy the view of the mountains, but cut his commute into the city.

  They stopped at a gate. Smith climbed out to open it, drive them through, then closed it. They drove up the dusty desert road. The scraggly desert vegetation gave way to some hardy trees around his cabin. He finally pulled to a stop.

  As he cut the engine, he worried what she’d think of it. His place wasn’t fancy, and there was nothing for miles around. He liked his solitude.

  They got out of the SUV and he saw her gaze on the place. He looked at the cabin, trying to picture it through her eyes. It was made of stone and wood, and definitely wasn’t huge.

  She glanced his way and smiled. “It’s gorgeous, Smith.”

  He smiled back, his shoulders easing. Suddenly, a big dog bounded around the cabin, aiming straight at them.

  The Great Dane paused, skidding in the dirt. It looked at Smith, then looked at Kinsey, then the hound made his choice. He bounded at Kinsey, jumped, and almost knocked her down.

  “Hercules, down.” Smith grabbed at his dog’s collar.

  “Who’s this?” A huge smile broke out on Kinsey’s face. She rubbed the dog’s head. “Hello, handsome.”

  “This is Hercules. Who has no manners.”

  She rubbed down the canine’s blue-gray-colored body, sending him into fits of delight. He let out a happy woof.

  “Who takes care of him when you’re gone?” she asked.

  “Neighbor a few miles down the road. He comes up and feeds him.” Smith patted Hercules’ glossy coat.

  Then he grabbed Kinsey’s bag, and led her up the steps to his front door.

  When they stepped inside, she looked around with interest. The living area was a simple room with stone floors, a small kitchen with butcher-block counter tops, and a big, stone fireplace that he loved.

  He kept the place pretty tidy, but there wasn’t much in the way of decoration. Not like the touches she had at her apartment.

  He pointed toward the three doors off to one side. “Bedroom, bathroom, utility room. And that’s about it.”

  “It’s great, Smith. It has rustic charm.” She poked her head into the utility room, pausing to stare.

  The room was really more of a storage area. One wall was covered in gear—hiking gear, ropes, coats. The other wall was all glass-fronted cabinets. They were filled with his weapon collection—rifles, handguns, shotguns, knives.

  “Um.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Sure you have enough?”

  He heard the teasing note in her voice. “You make candles, I collect weapons.”

  “Why don’t you have them on display in the living area?”

  He frowned. “I don’t collect them as art pieces.”

  She coughed. “Right.”

  “I also have an excellent security system, including motion sensors around the boundaries of my property.”

  Her eyes widened. “Isn’t that overkill?”

  “No.”

  He dropped her bag in the bedroom. He had a simple, wooden bed with a dark-blue cover, and a blanket folded at the end with a desert motif.

  He turned and saw Kinsey touching the rock over the fireplace. She was in his place.

  He’d imagined her here before.

  “I’m going to do the rounds outside.” Hercules woofed, knowing what that meant. “Grab yourself a drink. Rest.”

  She nodded.

  Smith slipped outside and walked around his property, Hercules bounding beside him. He first checked the shed where his Harley was stored. Everything was undisturbed and in its proper place. He scanned the horizon. He had actually understated his security system to Kinsey.

  No one could get within a few miles of the cabin without him knowing. If anyone set off a sensor, he’d get an alert sent to his phone.

  When Smith stepped back into the cabin, it was silent. Hercules headed to the kitchen and his water bowl. Smith froze. Where was Kinsey? He took two huge strides inside and then halted.

  That’s when he spotted her on the couch. Asleep.

  His chest contracted. She wasn’t here for him to take advantage of her, or indulge his own fantasies. But damn, he liked seeing her in his space, her body tucked up on his cushions.

  In his head, memories of the morning’s kidnap attempt hit him hard. No fuckers were going to take her. He carefully sat beside her on the couch.

  Her eyelids fluttered open. “Smith?”

  He reached out and stroked her jaw. She reached back, returning the gesture, her fingers brushing along his beard. He slid a hand into her hair, clenching on the thick, shiny locks.

  “Damn, I love your hair,” he murmured.

  She rose up, her gaze on his, and kissed him.

  It started off gentle, a sweet exploration. But then it ignited. She made a hungry sound, and need roared through Smith. Fuck, he’d never tasted anything as good as Kinsey. He groaned.

  She wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed into him.

  He shifted. He couldn’t take advantage. “Kinsey—”

  But her hands gripped his shirt. “Don’t pull back, Smith. Please.”

  He groaned again and wrapped his arms around her. He couldn’t deny her. He wouldn’t make sweet, pretty Kinsey beg for what she wanted. He deepened the kiss, taking his time, never wanting to stop. Fuck it all. It was time to stop denying the one thing he wanted most of all.

  He pressed her back onto the couch, and her hands slid under his shirt.

  She let out a husky cry. “I love your body,” she whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”

  No one had ever called Smith beautiful before. She was the beautiful one.

  “You’re the beauty, babe. Inside and out.” He lifted her shirt, his gaze taking in a pretty pink bra. Damn. He lowered his head, kissing her skin, trailing his lips over her. Then, he found one lace-covered nipple and sucked it into his mouth.

  She writhed beneath him. “Smith—”

  “Shh, baby, lie back. Enjoy.” This was for her. All for her.

  Her face was still bruised, and her body still battered, and he wanted to take care of her.

  He reached for her jeans, slowly peeling them down her hips and legs. She sucked in a breath.

  “This is all for you, sunshine.” Smith slid his hand between her slim thighs, cupping her over the tiny lace panties. It was all for her, but there was no denying that he’d love every second of pleasuring her.

  Chapter Eight

  Oh, God.

  Sensations crashed through Kinsey.

  Smith—big, sexy Smith—was crouched over her, hands sliding along her body. He slid her panties down, and his mouth moved behind her knee. And then it traveled up her leg.

  Oh. Oh. “Smith.”

  Then his mouth was between her thighs. She reached down and gripped his hair, her back arching off the cushion.

  “Babe, you taste so good.” He took his time lapping at her and she moaned. When he groaned against her, the sound vibrated through her, adding to her pleasure.

  “Smith…I’m…” Her orgasm was looming closer. It’d never been this easy for her to come before. She could never seem to relax enough, and her partners were always in a rush.

  “Let go, Kinsey. Come for me.”

  His hands cupped her bottom, lifting her up to his hungry mouth. Watching him pleasure her turned her on more.

  “Smith!” She came in a huge rush. Her vision wavered.

  Kinsey collapsed back on the couch, and when she could finally pry her eyes open, Smith’s face was pressed to her belly.

  “Gorgeous,” he murmured.

  She blushed. Then she took note of the hardness pressing against her leg. “Um, I really want you inside me.”

  His gaze glittered, then he turned his head, his beard scratching her skin as he pressed a kiss to her belly.

  “This is for you,” he said.

  “But—”

  He shifted up, cupping her cheek. Then he leaned down and kissed her. She tasted herself on his lips and her chest hitched. It was intimate and sexy.

  “Just relax,” he said.

  She sank back against the cushions. “Okay.”

  He helped her pull her panties back on. Kinsey thought she should feel embarrassed, but she felt too good to really care.

  Suddenly, a strange alarm began to sound from somewhere nearby. Smith sat up fast, his body tensing. Hercules let out a loud woof. Smith grabbed his phone.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “Sensor alarm.”

  “Really?” Kinsey’s heart leaped into her throat.

  Then he relaxed. “It’s the guys.”

  With a squeak, Kinsey shoved him away. “I need to get dressed.”

  He smiled. “You look cute.”

  She glared at him and hurried to the bathroom.

  When she returned, clothes straightened and hair brushed, a black SUV had pulled up out front. Kinsey watched Blair, Axel, and Callie emerge. Hercules bounded up to them.

  “Pizza.” Blair lifted the stack of pizza boxes she was carrying.

  A gorgeous, restored sports car growled up the drive, pulling in behind the SUV. Seth and January slid out.

  “Hi, Kinsey.” The archeologist waved, but then her face turned white.

  “Hellcat?” Seth asked, frowning.

  Another wave. “I smelled the pizza. Just some queasiness.”

  Next, Kinsey heard the throb of a motorcycle engine. A sleek, hot bike rolled up and pulled to a stop in front of them. The rider set long legs down, while the smaller passenger sat tucked into his back. Kinsey saw the red strands of hair escaping the bike helmet and knew it was Rowan and Lachlan.

  Rowan pulled her helmet off, looking flushed. Hmm. Kinsey studied the bike. She wondered how good it would feel to be tucked up behind Smith, cruising an empty highway somewhere. Yes, she’d ridden with him on that dirt bike in the desert, but it hadn’t exactly been leisurely or relaxing.

  Blair walked past Kinsey and into the cabin. She paused, looked at Kinsey’s face, then at Smith, and grinned.

  God. Heat flared in Kinsey’s cheeks. Could everyone tell that she and Smith had been fooling around?

  Soon, they were all settled inside, draped over the couches, sitting backwards on chairs, or sprawled on the floor, eating pizza and drinking beer.

  “Any updates from Brooks?” Smith asked.

  “He sent through files on several potential terrorist groups.” Lachlan set his beer down and grabbed his backpack. He pulled out several folders, dropping them on the coffee table. “I was going to wait until we finished eating, but everyone might as well start reading.”

  As they drank and ate, they flipped through the pages. Studying the different criminal groups made Kinsey feel a bit sick. Why would people do things like this? Hurt other people?

  She listened to the team discuss the pros and cons of the different terrorist groups, and who might be a match for the men who’d taken Kinsey.

  Despite the topic, she enjoyed the comraderie between them. She’d been out with them all before, but she’d never felt like part of this inner circle.

  She went to get herself a drink from the kitchen and when she returned, Smith shifted his legs. She sat down on the floor in front of him and he pulled her closer. She pressed against his strong legs. Once again, she felt safe. Protected.

  “Nothing is gelling.” Smith dropped a file on the table with a grunt.

  “This group has links to the Mafia.” Rowan held up her file. “They’re rumored to have gone after artifacts before.”

  Smith straightened. “Heard some of the attackers in the desert talking. Heard a name mentioned. Enzo. That’s Italian right?”

  The pizza curdled in Kinsey’s belly. “Enzo?”

  Smith frowned at her, his gaze sharpening. “Ring a bell?”

  “It’s not really a common name, is it?” She set her beer down. “There was a guy I dated a few weeks back…” She swallowed. “His name was Enzo.”

  She heard a chorus of muttered curses.

  “Full name?” Lachlan asked.

  “Enzo Rossi.” She shot to her feet. “He was pushy, clingy, and after a few dates I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and sent me loads of flowers, boxes of chocolates.” She grimaced.

  “Those flowers at your place,” Smith said. “They were from him?”

  She nodded. “I’ve been giving them to a hospice near my place. I never told him about my work. Never.” She spun to face them. “I swear. He knew I worked at the airport, that was it.”

  God, this was all her fault. She’d been silly enough to be used. She remembered meeting Enzo. He’d “bumped” into her on the sidewalk and almost knocked her over. They’d laughed. He’d been good-looking, and she’d been feeling sorry for herself after Smith’s rejection.

  “I never told him anything—”

  All of a sudden, hands gripped her hips and she was yanked into Smith’s lap. “Babe. Chill.”

  She went still, her gaze caught by his eyes.

  “We know you’d never talk. If he did learn things about you, he probably followed you to the Bunker, surveilled you.”

  She swallowed, hating the idea of Enzo watching her.

  “Here.” Blair set a tablet up on the coffee table. Brooks’ face appeared on the screen.

  Kinsey couldn’t quite see the man’s shirt, but it looked like the top of a stormtrooper’s helmet on it.

  “Guys, I ran Enzo Rossi. He has links to the Mafia.”

  “Shit,” Blair uttered.

  “Oh, God.” Kinsey pressed a hand to her jumping belly.

  Smith pressed a hand to the back of her neck. “This is good. We have a lead. This isn’t your fault.”

  “Brooks, keep digging,” Lachlan said. “I want to know everything about this guy. Who he hangs with, where he’s based, who he works for, and what he damn well ate for breakfast.” Lachlan stood. “Time to go. I want everyone rested up and ready to move as soon as we have something.”

  “Can I go back to work at the Bunker?” Kinsey asked. She wanted to work. She wanted to help.

  Smith frowned. “No.”

  “Or at least not alone.” Lachlan cast a glance at Smith.

  Kinsey didn’t think Smith looked much happier at that option.

  “We’ll work on rotation,” Lachlan said, “with one of us being Kinsey’s protection.”

  She nodded, although she hated the idea of the team being one person down as they investigated Enzo. But one look at Smith’s face said he wasn’t willing to debate the idea. “If I’ve got a laptop, I can do some of my work remotely.”

  “I’ll hook you up, Kinse,” Brooks said.

  Everyone rose to leave. They cleaned up bottles and pizza boxes. Kinsey got hugs from everyone, and they shuffled out with goodbyes and waves.

  “Time for bed,” Smith said.

  Suddenly feeling tired, Kinsey headed for the bathroom. She washed her face and pulled on her pajamas. She climbed into Smith’s bed, the sheets smelling of him. She pressed her cheek against the pillow and breathed deep.

  A second later, the bed moved as Hercules leaped onto it. He pressed a nose to the covers, then flopped down with a huff of air.

  “Hey, boy. You going to keep me company?”

  She was feeling sleepy when she heard Smith’s footsteps, followed by the sound of drawers opening. Moving her head, she watched in the dim light as he stripped down to some dark, fitted boxers. Her mouth went dry.

  He came toward the bed.

  “Are you sleeping on the couch again?” she asked.

  “No.” He paused to pat Hercules before he lifted the covers, climbed in, and pulled her close.

  Oh God. Heat radiated off him. He felt so good.

  “I’m staying right beside you, Kinsey.”

  He pulled her closer until her cheek pressed to his chest. “Okay.”

  “We’ll find this asshole.”

  “He used me.” She held on to Smith tightly. “I kissed a bad guy.” Thank God she wised up before she’d let Enzo talk her into bed.

  “Shh. We’ll find this Enzo fucker and who he works for. Then this will all be over.” Smith pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Sleep now.”

  Kinsey didn’t think she could sleep. Not with all the turmoil inside, and the impossible-to-shake feeling that she was to blame for all of this.

  But with Smith’s warmth and strength wrapped around her, it was only minutes until she drifted off.

  * * *

  Smith woke up holding an armful of warm female.

  He tightened his hold on Kinsey and breathed deep, smelling the scent of her shampoo. She gave a sleepy sigh and curled into him, her cheek pressed to his bare chest, her silky hair spilling over him. Fuck, that hair gave him all kinds of fantasies. Her breath puffed across his skin. In an instant, he was as hard as a rock.