Unexplored (Treasure Hunter Security Book 3) (3 page)

He climbed in behind the wheel and pulled his seatbelt on. “I don’t live too far from here. We won’t be long.”

He drove them through downtown Denver, and then they headed east toward City Park. He drove with an easy confidence. Finally, he pulled up in front of a three-story, newish condo block and cut the engine.

“No cave?” The words just slipped out of Sydney’s mouth.

His gaze narrowed on her, and for a second she imagined a flash of amusement. “You’re coming in.”

She felt her jaw tighten. “Do you not have any manners? You ask, O’Connor, not issue a gruff, rude order.”

“I’m not one of your polite society guys. I don’t really do fancy manners.” He held up his large hands. “I don’t have soft palms or wear fancy suits.”

He said ‘suits’ like he was talking about a venomous animal. His hands were covered in nicks, scars, and calluses.

“Yes,” she responded. “I can see that.”

He got out, circled the truck, grabbed her bag, and yanked her door open. “You need to get changed as well. Unless you’re planning to travel to South America in your fancy designer clothes.”

Sydney decided it would be more prudent just to go inside while he collected his things than continue the argument.

She followed him through a security gate and into an elevator. They walked across an open walkway and he paused to unlock a door. Then he ushered her into the condo, setting her bag down. She raised her brows. The place was clean, despite screaming
single guy
. While the kitchen was surprisingly well-decked-out, the rest of the place had a slightly sparse kind of feel to it. No pictures, no paint, no plants. She didn’t figure Logan was one for home decorating.

“I’m going to take a quick shower and change.” He waved at the black leather couch in front of an enormous flat-screen television. “Make yourself at home.”

He walked through a door she guessed led to the master bedroom, and closed it behind him. Instead of sitting, Sydney wandered through the open-plan living room. On a mantle above the television, she spotted a couple of framed photos. One was a picture of him with a group of tough-looking guys wearing fatigues—what she guessed was his SEAL team. She spotted Logan—black paint spread over his face—his shoulder pressed up against Declan Ward’s. The next photo showed a picture of a small boy with golden-brown eyes standing beside a hulk of a man in an Army uniform. She guessed Logan had come from a military family.

Tiredness and worry started to crowd in on her. She sat on the edge of the couch and pulled out her cell phone. There was an image of Drew that she’d snapped when they’d had dinner just before he’d left for Peru. He’d been distant, and she’d known he was hurting from losing their father. She stroked the screen. She’d always felt protective of him. He’d finished school early and gone on to college. He didn’t have the best social skills, could be clueless at times, but he was always smiling and friendly.

She hadn’t wanted him to go to South America. But she’d been so busy taking over Granger, reeling from her guilt over her father, and, as Drew liked to remind her, he was an adult. She couldn’t protect him from everything. Still, she should never have let him go to Peru. Tears pricked her eyes and she pressed her fist to her mouth to stifle her sob.

She heard a noise and looked up. Logan stood in the doorway with only a white towel wrapped around his lean hips.

Shock, and something else very hot that she refused to name, hit her system. He was hard and big. There was no fat on him and he had ropes of muscle across his chest. And his abs…she sucked in a breath. Those hard ridges of muscle didn’t look real. His long, brown hair was damp and brushing his shoulders, framing that tough, rugged face.

Sydney’s last lover had been a lawyer. And before him, she’d dated a workaholic lobbyist for a few months. She didn’t recall any of them giving her this hard shock of heat just by looking at them. She’d never seen a man like Logan before. So big, so dominating, so primal.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was a deep grumble.

“Nothing.” She dashed her tears away, her other hand clenching on her phone.

“Did Silk Road contact you again?” He stalked over.

For a second, Sydney had the image of a wolf stalking its prey. He grabbed her hand and pried her fingers off the phone. Up this close, she smelled the scent of damp skin and soap. He glanced at the picture of her brother and then back at her face.

Then he scowled and pulled back. “I’ll get dressed and then we’ll get going. I suggest you change out of that skinny skirt and put on something more comfortable for traveling. Spare bathroom’s that way.” He jerked his head.

And just like that, he turned and stalked away. Now, she got a perfect view of his muscular back. It was covered in black ink, the lifelike image of a howling wolf.

Sydney released a shaky breath. She felt like she’d just barely survived a deadly encounter with something dangerous.

***

Logan stomped through Denver airport, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and holding Sydney’s fancy suitcase in his hand. At least she’d changed back at his place. Now, instead of the fitted skirt, she wore dark denim jeans and a tailored jacket. Unfortunately, the jeans gave him a perfect view of long, slim legs and a perfectly shaped butt.

Dammit
. Back at the warehouse, it had been easy to write her off as a high-society snob and unfeeling ice queen. But when he’d come out and seen her sitting on his couch, tears glittering in her eyes, he’d felt blindsided. He hadn’t wanted to see beyond her cool exterior. He still hadn’t decided if she was just controlled or manipulative. Maybe she put on her mask to show people what she wanted them to see, and to get her own way.

He’d had up-close-and-personal experience with the kind of woman who was shiny on the outside and all rotten core under the gloss. Annika had taught him a hard lesson. She’d shown him one side of her—exactly what he’d wanted to see—while her other, hidden side had almost killed him.

Logan shook his head, annoyed at himself. He walked along the airport corridor, and out the large glass windows, he saw the THS jet waiting on the tarmac.

It wasn’t just Sydney Granger’s tears that had gotten to him. It had been the way the woman had looked at his bare chest.

He’d seen heat and hunger. And that had made him feel something completely different.

He stopped near a door. “We’ll wait here for Declan, Morgan, and Hale.”

Sydney nodded. Her hair was still in its twist, but a few strands had escaped, falling around her face.

Shit
. Now he was noticing her hair. Thankfully, at that moment, he saw Dec and the others coming toward them.

“Sydney, this is Morgan Kincaid.” Logan pointed at the tall, deadly woman. Morgan was one of the best he’d worked with. She kept her dark hair short and had a scar down the side of her face she never talked about. The woman also had a big-time obsession with weapons. “This other guy is Hale Carter. Guys, Sydney Granger, our client.”

Hale stepped forward with a smile. “A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

As the man shook hands with Sydney, Logan rolled his eyes. Hale was a good-looking guy—dark skin, brown eyes, and a wide smile. He’d been a hell of a soldier, and now he was a hell of a security specialist. He was also a ladies’ man.

“All right, let’s get aboard,” Dec said.

Logan stepped in front of Hale and pressed his fingers against Sydney’s lower back. “This way.”

Behind Sydney’s back, Hale took a step back, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He grinned at Logan and winked.

They headed out onto the tarmac, and walked over to the sleek, black jet. Once inside, Logan directed Sydney to one of the plush leather seats. The jet wasn’t outfitted for luxury; instead, it was lined with computer screens and compartments for storing their supplies.

Sydney settled into a seat, and Logan moved to talk with the others. But he felt her gaze on him the entire time. Once the pilot started the engines, Logan settled into the chair beside Sydney’s. He wasn’t sure why. He’d been telling himself he couldn’t wait to get to the airport and hand her off to Declan.

Maybe he was just really keen to see a glimpse of that emotion again. To try and figure out the real Sydney Granger.

“What was your brother hoping to find in Peru?” Logan asked.

“He’s obsessed with the Warriors of the Clouds. He said that only about five percent of their ruins have been uncovered in the cloud forests. He thinks there’s much more to learn about them.”

Morgan leaned forward from the seat behind. “What’s so special about these Cloud Warriors?”

Sydney crossed her long legs. “Drew said that they were very advanced for the time.”

“Oh?” Logan said. “Even though they didn’t make metal?”

“The Inca were wary of them. Their warriors were famous in battle. Their shamans were feared. They mummified their dead and entombed them in fascinating sarcophagi that they lined up on rock ledges above canyons in the forests. Drew had been investigating evidence that they were advanced healers. He found evidence that they’d been performing bone surgery and successful amputations. He believed there was more about them that was still unexplored.”

Logan grunted.

“Are you even interested in history?” Sydney asked, eyeing him.

“Sure.” He enjoyed history, and it made him enjoy his job at THS even more. But he wasn’t dumb enough to fall for the old “lost city” and “lost treasure” fables. He’d been on too many expeditions that had come up empty-handed. He shrugged. “I like it. I like my work. The jobs are always different, and put my skills to good use.”

“Holy cow,” Morgan said. “Logan O’Connor likes something. Wow, hell must have frozen over.”

Sydney turned and raised a brow.

Morgan laughed. “On every job, McGrumpypants is always bitching and moaning about something. Doesn’t like the sand, doesn’t like the jungle, doesn’t like the mosquitoes.”

“Ignore her,” Logan growled. “I think she’s taken too many hits to the head. I like my job, but Dec didn’t hire me for my history knowledge.”

Sydney’s gaze ran down his body. “I guess not.”

Logan ignored the faint hit of heat her gaze induced and shifted in his chair.

Morgan sat back and started watching a movie, and Sydney flicked through a magazine. Logan closed his eyes, figuring he’d catch some sleep.

“Why did you leave the SEALs?”

Sydney’s quiet question made Logan tense.

“Sorry. Too personal?” she said.

He shrugged one shoulder. He glanced over and saw Morgan had her headphones on, and Hale and Dec were seated at a small table, playing cards.

“Dec had left—” and Logan had fallen for a pretty face and fucked up, big-time. He’d almost gotten his team killed. No way was he telling Sydney Granger that, though. “I guess I was ready for a change.”

Sydney studied him for a long moment. She might be cool, but Sydney Granger wasn’t dumb. She didn’t push.

“You like being a CEO?” he asked.

Her face got a pinched look. “Jury is still out on that. My father died two months ago, and I’m still…finding my feet.” She let out a sigh. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for this business thing.”

“I guess it’s a big change from going to Washington parties and hobnobbing.” He hadn’t meant it in a rude way, but he saw a flash of color on her cheeks.

“You don’t know me, Logan.” Then her face crumpled. “God, maybe if I hadn’t been so busy with meetings and business dinners, Drew wouldn’t be in this trouble.”

This time, Logan didn’t see a sheen of tears, or any flash of emotion on her face. But he felt it. Sydney Granger cared for her brother. “It’s not your fault. Silk Road is to blame. We’ll find him, Sydney.”

She nodded.

Hell, Logan found himself wanting to pull her into his arms. To let her lean on him and for him to protect her.

Logan had never comforted anyone, in his entire life.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” He stood, almost bumping his head on the low curve of the roof. “The seats recline.”

He didn’t look at her as he left to join the others.

Morgan had abandoned her movie and joined the card game. She looked up and grinned. “Beauty and the Beast.”

“The Ice Queen and the Huntsman,” Hale murmured with a grin.

“Fuck you.” Logan looked at Dec. “Any more info on why Silk Road has taken Drew Granger?”

Dec shook his head. “I asked Darcy to call Agent Burke. See if he has anything for us.”

“Bet she’ll love that.” Special Agent Alastair Burke was head of the FBI’s Art Crime Team. They were tasked with recovering stolen antiquities and artwork. Logan also knew the guy rubbed Darcy the wrong way.

“We’ve never heard of Silk Road taking hostages and demanding ransoms before,” Dec added.

“They aren’t short on money,” Logan said.

“No. They aren’t,” Dec said, his brow creased.

So there was some other reason that Silk Road wanted Drew Granger. And why they wanted Sydney in Peru. Logan’s gaze moved back to Sydney. Her eyes were closed and he let himself drink her all in.

He heard Morgan and Hale get up and head to the galley at the rear of the plane, arguing about what to eat.

Dec stepped up beside him. “You can’t take your eyes off her, buddy.”

“What?” Logan heard the horror dripping from his tone. “She’s our client.”

Dec crossed his arms and leaned back against the side of the plane. “Pretty easy on the eyes. Those cool manners, pretty blue eyes, sexy long legs.”

“You have a woman,” Logan growled. When Dec just grinned at him, Logan suppressed the urge to hit something. “She’s high society.”

“Mm-hmm.”

That small noise annoyed Logan to no end. “I hate when you make that sound, Ward. Look, you’re in love, that’s great. I like Layne, even if she has strange taste in men.”

Dec slugged Logan in the shoulder, hard enough to hurt.

Logan narrowed his eyes and continued. “But don’t go trying to pair me up with anybody. Especially with Sydney Granger.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Logan cursed. “I hate when you do that.” He stomped back to his seat.

Chapter Three