Suddenly, everything came into sharp relief for Saskia—the sunshine, the scent of the trees, the warble of a bird. God, she didn’t want to die. “Cam.”
He pulled her against his chest.
“I…I want you to know that I love you.”
His gaze dropped to hers.
“That’s it,” she said. “No qualifiers. No particular bits that I love best. I just love you. Every part of you.”
His arms convulsed. His gaze flew away from her to the trees. The bird was still singing.
Then he pulled her even tighter. “It’s going to be all right.”
She had no idea how this was going to be all right.
Her fingers clenched in Cam’s jacket. Still, as she listened to the heavy beat of his heart, she was at least glad that they were together.
The guards lifted their guns and aimed at them.
Saskia choked back a cry. She saw Mikhailov watching, his eyes gleaming.
Shots rang out.
She squeezed her eyes closed. Shouts echoed through the clearing.
There was no searing pain. Nothing.
Suddenly, Cam shoved her. They hit the dirt, his big body covering hers, shielding her.
She turned her head and spotted black-clad figures racing out of the trees.
A big, muscular body charged in, slamming into one guard. He lifted his bearded head and Saskia gasped. Wolf.
Her brother’s second in command slammed several hard, unforgiving punches into the guard’s face.
Another man came out of nowhere. A little leaner, but moving fast. A garrote wire flashed over a guard’s head and the man pulled back. The guard clawed at his neck, choking, legs pummeling the ground.
The man’s attacker never let go. His dark-blue eyes were focused and intense.
Vander.
Off to the side, she caught a glimpse of Saxon taking down the third guard, with kicks and punches.
And then she saw a tall, powerful figure advance on Mikhailov.
The Russian stumbled back, spluttering. He picked up speed, trying to get to the trees.
Killian kept walking, his face set in harsh lines.
Her brother grabbed two knives off his belt and threw them in quick succession.
Mikhailov slammed into a tree, pinned by the knives, through both of his shoulders.
Saskia shifted restlessly.
“Stay down,” Cam whispered in her ear.
Killian strode up to Mikhailov. “You made some unforgivable mistakes, Mikhailov.” Killian’s voice was sharp and cutting, like a blade.
“Who are you?” the Russian man spluttered.
“They call me Steel.”
Mikhailov blanched. “No. You’re a myth. A ghost.”
“I’m flesh and blood.” Killian leaned closer. “Violence against women is inexcusable.”
At her brother’s tone, Mikhailov flinched.
“Abducting my sister was the act that signed your death warrant.”
All the color drained from Mikhailov’s face. His mouth opened and closed. “Sister?”
“My sister,” Killian confirmed.
“Sweetheart, your brother is a scary motherfucker,” Cam murmured.
“Um, I know.” Not that she’d ever seen him quite this frightening.
“You won’t hurt anyone else’s sisters.” Killian drew out another knife.
Mikhailov braced.
“And you won’t have a quick or easy death,” Killian drawled silkily. “I promised you to the feds. I believe the FBI and the CIA are fighting over you. They want all your secrets. And the secrets of your associates. You’ll be locked away in a top-secret prison.” Killian leaned close. “But watch your back, Mikhailov. I have contacts everywhere, and people who detest rapists.”
Mikhailov made a choked, terrified sound.
Killian turned, his black eyes burning. “Wolf?”
“I’ve got him.” Pulling a set of handcuffs off his belt, Wolf strode to Mikhailov.
Cam’s weight shifted off Saskia and he pulled her up.
When Killian took a step closer, Cam banded an arm around her waist, keeping her pinned against his chest.
Like a bird of prey, Killian’s gaze narrowed.
This was the feared black ops agent. The dangerous man. Killian “Steel” Hawke. Saskia swallowed. He rarely showed her this side, but she’d always known it was in him.
She wondered how much of his true self her brother kept hidden from the world. Would he ever let down his guard enough to find a woman he’d show all of himself to?
She realized that Killian and Camden had more in common than she’d guessed.
Killian cocked his head. “You going to let me hug my sister, Morgan?”
Cam’s arms tightened.
She patted his forearm. “It’s okay, Cam.” She turned and kissed his jaw.
Ignoring the sound Killian made, she walked over and hugged her brother.
“Hi,” she murmured.
His arms closed around her. In that moment, he was just her brother—not the former agent, killer, or head of Sentinel Security. Just Killian.
“You’re all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Thanks for the rescue.” She pulled back, smiling.
“It was a joint effort.”
“Hey, Saskia.” Wolf appeared. He pulled her in for a long hug, and she held on tight.
“Thanks for coming, Nick.”
“Anytime, gorgeous.”
Suddenly, she was yanked backed into Cam’s arms. He and Killian faced off again.
“She’s coming back to New York with me,” Killian said.
“No, she’s not,” Cam growled.
Nearby, she saw Vander and Saxon look at each other. The only sign of Vander’s reaction was a slight quirk of his eyebrow. Saxon was openly grinning.
“She needs to go home,” Killian said.
God save her from overprotective men she loved. “I want to stay with Cam,” she said softly.
God, realization hit her. They were alive. Beautifully and vibrantly alive.
The danger was gone.
They’d been through hell, and came out the other side. Cam hadn’t said the words, but she knew her scarred protector loved her.
Saskia turned, threw her arms around Cam’s neck and kissed him.
He was still for a millisecond, then he hauled her up, and kissed her back.
Cam drank her in.
They’d made it. The danger to her was finally gone.
He squeezed her hip and pulled back.
He glanced at the four men watching them. Saxon was smiling. Vander’s lips curved faintly. Wolf was scowling, brawny arms crossed over his chest. And Killian was blank-faced, which didn’t hide the fact that Cam was pretty sure the man wanted to kill him.
Saskia leaned into his side. “How did you guys find us?”
“We traced Cam’s call to a nearby ranch,” Vander said.
“We figured Morgan had gotten you out,” Killian said. “Wolf and I were already incoming from the East Coast. Vander and Saxon flew in from the West Coast. Once we got here, I put up one of Hex’s drones. We found you just a little after Mikhailov did.” Killian skewered the moaning man with a sharp look.
The handcuffed Mikhailov was bleeding badly from the knife wounds, and in pain. Cam couldn’t bring himself to care. After everything the asshole had done to Saskia, had planned to do to her…