“I’m glad she’s okay. I worried like hell about her.”

  She sent him a little smile. “I could tell. You risked your life for her. Saying thank you doesn’t begin to express how grateful I am.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I think of her as my own.”

  That choked Tessa up. “I worried about you. I waited hours today without any word… I asked, but no one would tell me anything, even where to find you. I hoped you’d call but—”

  He pulled the phone from his back pocket. “It died shortly after we reached the ER.”

  She placed a soft hand on his arm, and even that touch was enough to send a shudder through him. “Are you okay? Really?”

  “Better now that I’m here. With you.”

  “I’m better now that you’re here, too. Can you stay?” Her soft entreaty gave him hope.

  “That depends on you.”

  “Me?

  “You never answered my question, you know.”

  She shook her head, her body so close he couldn’t resist cupping her cheek. “What are you… I don’t… Zy, if there’s even a chance you have a concussion, you should sit and rest and—”

  “After we’ve talked.”

  Tessa looked away. “You don’t have to say anything. The bosses explained why you investigated me. I’m still so sorry I betrayed everyone—but especially you. The guilt will eat at me for a long time. I hope you can forgive me—”

  “Baby, I absolved you the second I heard why you’d done it. You put Hallie first. You had to. I understand. And you’re right that you didn’t handle things the way I would have, but you had no way of knowing how to deal with a situation like that. I’ve been trained to. You haven’t. I just hope you can forgive me. What I said and did in the bunker—”

  “I understand.”

  “But if you hate me for it…” Goddamn it, the thought nearly ripped him in two.

  “No.” She lifted her stunned gaze to him. “I don’t. I couldn’t.”

  “Okay, I can work with that. I know we have a lot to figure out and a lot of trust to repair—”

  “I trust you.” She bit her lip, her face full of regret. “But I should have trusted you more.”

  “Just like I should have. Let’s not fuck up again, huh?”

  She laughed. “Let’s not. Let’s agree to talk anything out in the future.”

  “Absolutely. Now I’m dying to ask you a question, baby.” He took her by the hand, never breaking her soft, blinking gaze as he urged her to the sofa, then knelt at her feet, pulling the box from his pocket Trees had dropped off earlier. When he lifted the lid, she gasped as he pressed a kiss to her hand. “Marry me.”

  She looked absolutely stunned as she trembled against him. “Y-you mean that? Really?”

  “Of course. You know I love you. I bought this ring four days ago. I want you to be my wife. I want to be a father to Hallie. I want to grow a family with you. I’d like the answer to my first question, too, but if that’s a no—”

  “Zy, I love you.” Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I love you so much.”

  His heart caught and lifted. He’d waited forever to hear those words, and having her say them now was way more than he’d dared to hope for today. Hell, maybe for weeks or months. As long as Tessa had agreed to be his, he’d been prepared to do or say whatever he needed to win her over. But if she already loved him…

  She sniffled and looked at him with such an earnest gaze, he melted. “In fact, I’ve loved you for a long, long time, since shortly after you first walked through my door.”

  “Baby…” He gripped her shoulder. “Is that a yes? You’ll marry me?”

  More tears fell, but she gave him a watery, heartfelt nod before throwing herself against his chest. “Yes. I’d be thrilled and honored to marry you.”

  “Oh, thank fuck. I want this ring on your finger before you have a chance to change your mind.” He slid it on, surprised to find his own hand shaking.

  It fit perfectly.

  She gave him a tearful giggle and looked down at the diamond winking on her finger, then back up at him. “Oh, my gosh. I’m going to be Mrs. Garrett.”

  “Damn straight.” Zy couldn’t resist another second. He kissed her—for the first time finally knowing he could claim her mouth every day for the rest of his life. “The sooner the better.”

  “I can’t wait. My life is complete now because I have you.”

  “Same, baby.” He cupped her face. “And you better not ever stop looking at me like that.”

  She grinned, beaming with joy and love. “Like what?”

  “Like you want me to peel off your clothes and take you to bed as much as I’m dying to.”

  “I’ll never stop, I promise. I just want to know what you’re waiting for.”

  “Nothing. I’m done waiting. You’re mine now—forever.”

  February 2

  3 a.m.

  * * *

  Forest Scott, known to most everyone as Trees—because what else was someone supposed to call a gawky-as-fuck, six-foot-eight dude?—jolted awake to the nagging whine pealing from the alarm panel and sat straight up in bed.

  Someone unauthorized had opened one of his doors or windows.

  His first thought was of Laila Torres.

  Had someone come to take her from him…or was she trying to escape?

  Again.

  It didn’t matter which scenario he was facing, someone was getting interrogated tonight.

  Trees vaulted out of bed and disengaged the alarm before hopping into his sweatpants and steel-toed boots. Without bothering to lace up, he grabbed the Benelli he kept propped beside his bed and a pair of cuffs from his nightstand, then pocketed the nearby flashlight.

  Trees prowled across the house quietly—a skill acquired from years at war in both urban dogfights and desert shitholes—until he reached Laila’s bedroom. He wasn’t surprised to find the door closed. She shut it every night. Locked it, too. Apparently, she thought that would save her from him if he was the kind of asshole who would force his way into her bed. She had known men like that most of her life, so he’d let her keep the illusion. Trees hated to screw with her peace of mind now, but…

  He had her door open in less than ten seconds.

  Her bed was empty, her window tightly shut. But it was chillier in here, as if someone had recently let the winter night into her room.

  Son of a bitch.

  He doubled back, charging to the front door, plucked his coat off the nearby hook, and shoved it on over his bare torso as he hauled ass onto the porch. Thank god he still had a pair of thermal night-vision binoculars in his pocket.

  Trees lifted them to his face and found Laila in seconds.

  She was alone.

  He grunted, wanting to be grateful that someone hadn’t taken her from him, but he was just too pissed. Did the woman not understand that her life was in danger? Or did she simply not value her goddamn safety?

  Cursing, he bounded off the porch and ran after her. He would catch up to her quickly for four reasons: First, she had nothing on her feet but flimsy flip-flops. Second, it was thirty-seven degrees, and she was covered only by a tank top and short shorts. Third, his height advantage meant he had hella long legs, and her soft curves proved that, unlike him, she didn’t run a few miles a day. Fourth—and most important—she might want to leave him badly enough to brave nature and the elements at three o’clock in the morning, but he was far more determined to keep her under his roof.

  Hell, if he could, he’d keep her in his bed. But ever since he’d heaped a trio of orgasms on her and shared the most mind-blowing fuck of his life, she’d done nothing but try to escape him.

  Time to drag her back, put his foot down, and tell her exactly how things were going to be.

  It didn’t take him long to catch her. He could see the flash of her sleek, naked legs in the moonlight, along with the puffs of her breaths in the cold.

  Laila had no idea he even chased her until he was practically on top of her.

  She whipped her gaze over her shoulder just as he hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her from the ground. He yanked her kicking, writhing form into his arms and against his body. Her flip-flops went flying.

  “Let me go!”

  “Nope.” He retrieved her shoes and shoved them in his pocket, despite her struggles.

  She did her best to punch and kick him, even bit him once. But, as his mother would have said, bless her heart. Every attempt to get free was both ineffectual and pointless.

  “You cannot keep me here against my will.”

  That’s where she was wrong. EM Security Management was paying him for just that.

  “I can,” he said as he headed back toward his house.

  “My sister needs me.”

  “Your sister has her own protection. We’ve ensured that, and you know it. That’s not why you’re trying to run, and you know I’m right.”

  Laila went stubbornly mute—a response he was well used to.

  She didn’t want to talk? Fine by him.

  Trees contained her still-wriggling form, bypassed the front door, then headed around to the back, before flipping on his chipper shredder.

  “No!” she screamed in terror, scratching and clawing, scrambling to get away from him as if her life depended on it.

  What the hell did she think he intended to do, feed her into it?

  One look at her face told him she did.

  Fuck.

  “Hey, calm down, honey. It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She looked at him with wary eyes. “Then what?”

  He didn’t need words to explain. Instead, he took her flip-flops from his pocket and fed them into the machine, watching a pile of pink rubber emerge on the ground, then he turned it off.

  “Are you crazy? Those are my only shoes!”

  “Were. They’re not shoes anymore. Let’s go.” He hiked her up against his body, thick arm around her middle.

  Instinct won out, and she wrapped her legs around him to ensure she didn’t fall. “Why would you do this?”

  Trees didn’t answer until he climbed the front porch, made his way inside, and set her on her feet. By the ambient security lights—most would call them nightlights—he watched the fear and anger war across that face of hers, which still had the power to take his breath away. It didn’t matter that he terrified her or that he hadn’t touched her in days. He hated the fact that she hated him. They were a fucked-up tangle, but he refused to let anyone hurt her.

  “Because now you can’t go anywhere,” he pointed out.

  Laila fumed. Oh, she tried to hide it, but he was learning her tells. She might be a gorgeous Latina, but she didn’t have the stereotypical spicy temper to go with it. Nope. Laila wasn’t the sort of woman to get mad. She got even.

  Trees was pretty sure she was plotting some really shitty revenge right now. That didn’t worry him half so much as her insistence on escaping.

  He took her by the arm, hauled her to the kitchen table, and thrust her into the first chair, then wrapped his hands around her shoulders. It didn’t escape his notice that his grip covered most of her upper arms. “What we have here is a failure to communicate.”

  “I understand your English. Though it may shock you as a man, I have my own thoughts and I disagree with you.”

  “I’m not shocked at all. I’m just making it incredibly clear that you’re not getting your way. You and your sister are under our protection. As long as either faction warring for control of the Tierra Caliente cartel is after you, it’s my responsibility to keep you alive. You can’t fight them alone and you’ve got to know that. But since you don’t seem to and I’m not getting through to you, we’re going to make some changes around here until you grasp the concept.”

  Without waiting for a response, he began patting her down. It was fucking hard not to notice her soft, lush breasts when he had to cup them. Impossible not to remember having them in his mouth or watching them bounce when he’d gripped her hips and she’d ridden him hard and fast. But now wasn’t the time for this trip down memory lane—or his erection. He needed to find her phone.

  Laila pushed at his hands and turned her body away protectively, but he finally felt his way from her chest to her ass—and pulled the phone from her back pocket.

  He saw three messages from her sister, which was no surprise. And one from Hunter Edgington.

  That shocked the hell out of him.

  “What are you up to?”

  Stubbornly, she pressed her lips together, crossed her arms over her chest in a way that made her tits look even more luscious, and jerked her stare out the window.

  Damn it. How the fuck could he get her to talk? Turning her ass red and stripping the starch from her attitude sounded great. But she’d made it clear she never wanted him touching her again, and she didn’t trust him even a bit, so she’d never volunteer for any sort of consensual spanking. Even if she needed it.

  So Trees did the next best thing. He waved her phone in front of her face until it unlocked, then started prowling through the device.

  “No!” She lunged out of her chair and reached for the phone.

  Trees merely held it level with his face, kind of amused as he watched her jump for it. There were occasional benefits to being freakishly tall.

  Finally, he found the message string he’d been looking for, scanned and scrolled, then nearly lost his fucking mind. “Why were you planning to have a conversation with one of my bosses?”

  With a frustrated huff, she plopped in her seat again. Because she realized the jig was up?

  “It is none of your concern.”

  The hell it wasn’t.

  With a sigh, he flipped on the overhead light and headed to the coffeepot. If he was going to interrogate her, he needed some damn caffeine. Days and days without a full night’s sleep were catching up to him.

  The instant he turned his back, she shoved out of her chair, legs scraping across the tile, and sprinted for the door. She’d barely reached it and pulled it open when he caught her around the waist again, lifted her petite curves, kicked the door shut, then carried her back to the kitchen. He pulled out the cuffs.

  Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

  He ignored her, managing to slap one cuff around her wrist before she started fighting like a hellcat. But she was too late. He’d already looped the chain around the rungs of the chair and grabbed her free hand.

  “You cannot do this.”

  He clicked the second cuff into place. “I just did. Now we’re going to talk. Want a blanket?”

  He hoped like fuck she said yes because he was getting a full frontal of her under the kitchen lights, and it was impossible to miss her thick, beaded nipples.

  Fuck me.

  He loved tits, and she had a great pair. And that really wasn’t the number one subject on his brain. Well, it shouldn’t be.

  “What will I owe you for it?”

  For a fucking blanket? “Nothing.”

  She hesitated. “Fine. Then yes. Please.”

  He nodded as he grabbed a quilt from the corner of his bed. When he draped it over her, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

  Then Trees turned the nearby chair backward and straddled it, resting his arms over the top. “Let’s start over. Why were you asking to talk to my boss?”

  Laila proved once again she was as strong-willed as she was beautiful when she refused to answer.

  “You want to tell him we fucked? See if that will get me in trouble? Are you hoping he’ll assign you a guard you can slip past?”

  But as soon as the words were out, Trees realized he was wrong. She’d had days to throw him under the bus. For some reason, she hadn’t. And if she thought for a minute she’d be able to slip past someone else on the EM Security team, she would already have done her best to swap him out. But she’d met enough of them by now to know better.

  So what was her angle?

  Laila wouldn’t meet his gaze, so he took her chin in his grip and forced her to look at him. As always, her soft hazel eyes undid him—not to mention that pouty, fuck-me mouth he remembered kissing feverishly in the dark.

  How many times had he jacked off to that memory?

  “Why would you want to talk to Hunter without me knowing?”

  Her white teeth bit into that pillowy lower lip, and he stifled a groan. She had no idea what she was doing to him, and he couldn’t let on. She’d already used his desire against him once. Trees wouldn’t let it happen again.

  Since she still stubbornly refused to say a word, he’d have to puzzle the answer out himself.

  If Hunter, Logan, or Joaquin had an issue with the job he was doing, based on her complaints, they would have called his ass on the carpet by now. If it wasn’t about the sex he’d once stupidly taken her up on and it wasn’t about the fact he was keeping her “captive” at his isolated compound, he could only think of one other thing.

  And it fucking pissed him off.

  “Were you arranging to use yourself as bait to catch whoever’s after your sister?”

  Laila glared at him as if debating the wisdom of answering with anything close to the truth. Finally, she yanked her chin from his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Then answer me.”

  “Yes. And you cannot stop me.”

  That’s what she thought. “Were you planning to run to Hunter’s place? Maybe get clear of my property, then call him to come get you?”

  It wasn’t anything she did that told him he’d hit the nail on the head, but he knew. “Oh, that would have made me look really fucking good. Then again, you don’t care about that, do you?”

  “I have no wish to hurt you, but my sister—”

  “Will be fine.”

  She shook her head. “They will come. They will keep coming. They will never stop until they kill her and take her son. I know these people. They are animals. They will never give up.”

  “Then neither will I. I can be an animal, too. And I’ll prove it.”