Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

LYNDSEY

The cottage stood nestled among towering trees on the edge of Lake Huron, its stone walls weathered by time but sturdy against the elements. It wasn’t large, but its simplicity held a charm Lyndsey had always found comforting. The roof was steeply pitched, with a single stone chimney rising from one end. Ivy clung to the east wall, and a narrow path led from the front door to the pebble-strewn shore where the lake’s waves lapped gently.

Inside, the cottage was cozy, though not without its quirks. The living area featured a leatherChesterfield sofa she had always loved, a small fireplace, and a braided rug that Lyndsey remembered from her childhood. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, their dark finish contrasting with the pale plaster walls. To one side of the room was a modest kitchen with whitewashed cabinets and a butcher block counter, its small window offering a view of the forest behind the cottage.

The air inside carried the faint scent of wood, leather and stone, a reminder of the surrounding wilderness. Despite its rustic appearance, the cottage had been retrofitted with all the modern conveniences. The solar panels tucked discreetly within the cottage’s roof structure powered the essentials, and the internet connection—though not blazing fast—was sufficient for Lyndsey’s needs.

But it was the alcove at the back of the cottage that truly mattered. The space had once been a storage nook, but Lyndsey had transformed it into a makeshift lab. The stone walls curved inward slightly, giving it a cozy yet functional feel. A sturdy metal workbench took up most of the space, its surface scattered with instruments, microscopes, and a sleek laptop. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with neatly labeled jars of chemicals, boxes of equipment, and notebooks filled with her calculations.

A single lamp with a flexible neck cast a pool of bright light over her workspace, creating a sharp contrast to the softer glow of the rest of the cottage. The equipment hummed faintly, a comforting sound that reminded her of the state-of-the-art labs she was used to. This wasn’t as sophisticated as her usual setups, but it was enough to keep her work moving forward.

Lyndsey stood in the doorway of the alcove, her gaze drifting across the carefully organized chaos. The lake had always been her sanctuary, and the cottage was supposed to be a safe haven. Yet even here, danger felt closer than ever.

She ran her fingers along the edge of the workbench, her mind cycling through the possibilities. If someone had gone to such lengths to track her down, even this remote refuge might not be enough. But as her eyes flicked to the small glass vials and rows of equipment, she was reminded that her work was worth the risk. It had to be.

Lyndsey sat at the workbench in the cottage’s small lab, the hum of her equipment the only sound. The soft glow of monitors bathed her face as she adjusted settings and made notes. The work was methodical, usually soothing—but not tonight.

Her focus wavered as Jake Sands moved through the cottage behind her, his every step calculated, deliberate. He didn’t walk like other men; he prowled, his movements smooth and predatory, a constant reminder of his lethal nature.

She glanced over her shoulder as he checked the locks on the front door for the third time that hour. “Are you going to wear grooves in the floor, or are you just trying to drive me insane?”

Jake didn’t look up. “Just making sure we’re secure.”

“We’ve been secure since we got here,” Lyndsey shot back. “If there was a threat, your fancy alarms would’ve told us by now.”

Jake finally turned, his eyes locking onto hers. “Complacency gets people killed.”

The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, though she refused to show it. Instead, she turned back to her monitors, muttering under her breath, “And paranoia drives people crazy.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, biting her lip to keep from saying more.

Jake leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The casual pose only highlighted the strength coiled beneath the surface. “You’re not used to having someone watching your back, are you?”

“Not like this,” Lyndsey admitted, keeping her eyes on the screen in front of her. “I’ve always handled things myself. Having you hovering like some overprotective spectre is... different.”

“I’m not hovering,” Jake said, his voice tinged with amusement.

She turned in her chair to face him, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve checked the locks three times. If that’s not hovering, I don’t know what is.”

His lips twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. “Call it being thorough.”

“Call it overkill.”

Their gazes locked, the air between them charged. Lyndsey’s heart pounded, but she pushed the feeling aside, focusing on her work. “Since you’re so invested in what I’m doing, maybe you should at least try to understand it.”

Jake straightened, intrigued. “All right. Enlighten me.”

She gestured for him to come closer, her pulse quickening as he moved to stand beside her. His presence was overwhelming, the heat of his body a constant distraction.

Lyndsey pointed to the monitor, forcing herself to focus. “What you’re looking at is a simulation of how nanobots interact with damaged tissue. These bots are programmed to identify and repair cells at a microscopic level, essentially accelerating the body’s natural healing process.”

Jake leaned in, his brow furrowing as he studied the screen. “And you’re saying these things can fix injuries from the inside out?”

“That’s the goal,” Lyndsey said. “They’re still in the testing phase, but if they work the way I’ve designed them, they could revolutionize medicine. Imagine someone with spinal damage being able to walk again, or internal bleeding being stopped before it becomes fatal.”

Jake’s gaze shifted from the screen to her, his eyes filled with a new kind of intensity. “And that’s why people are willing to kill for it.”

Lyndsey nodded, the weight of his words settling over her. “If this technology falls into the wrong hands, it could be weaponized. I can’t let that happen.”

“You won’t,” Jake said, his voice firm. “Not while I’m here.”

The conviction in his tone sent another shiver through her, and she hated how much it affected her. She turned back to the screen, trying to regain her composure. “Anyway, that’s the gist of it. Cutting-edge science, lots of potential, and plenty of danger to keep things interesting.”

Jake’s lips quirked. “Sounds a lot like you.”

She glanced at him sharply, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“Smart, determined, and dangerous,” Jake said, his voice dropping a notch. “It’s a good combination.”

Lyndsey’s breath caught, her pulse racing. It would have been nice if he’d added gorgeous or at least attractive, but apparently, she wasn’t his type, which was fine. No man was ever going to strap her to some medieval torture contraption and run some kind of electrical wand over her body. The naked blonde on the X seemed to enjoy it, but Lyndsey couldn’t see the allure. Samantha said being a submissive allowed her to give up control and just focus on what she was feeling. I don’t have time for that.

Instead of saying anything like that, she responded with, “I think you’re confusing me with the nanobots.”

“Not a chance,” Jake replied, his gaze unwavering.

She turned to focus on him. What the hell did he mean by that? She could feel a kind of tension—maybe sexual on her part, maybe not—mounting between them until it was almost unbearable. The air seemed ripe with things not said and unacknowledged thoughts and feelings. Lyndsey stood abruptly, shaking her head and hands. Needing to put some distance between them, she made a mug of tea.

“I need to check the calibrations,” she said, though her voice betrayed her nervousness.

Jake didn’t move, his presence as steady as ever. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

And therein lies the problem.

The words hung in the air, their meaning deeper than the surface implied. Lyndsey swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly as she adjusted the equipment.

Jake might not be going anywhere, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could handle having him this close without it affecting her ability to focus. She really didn’t have time for this. She was so close to a breakthrough.

Lyndsey stood by the window, staring out at the dark expanse of the lake. The reflection of the moon danced on the water’s surface, but her thoughts were far from serene. She held a mug of tea in her hands, though the warmth did little to ease the anxiety coiling in her chest.

Behind her, Jake moved through the cottage with his usual grace, checking locks, monitoring his equipment, always vigilant. He was a force to be reckoned with and his presence was becoming impossible to ignore. It filled the space, charged the air.

“You know,” Lyndsey said without turning, “I’ve never had someone care this much about my safety. It’s...unsettling.”

Jake’s deep voice answered from somewhere near the door. “It’s not about caring. It’s about the job.”

She turned to face him, her lips curving into a small, skeptical smile. “So you’re saying you don’t care whether I live or die?”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes locking onto hers. “I didn’t say that.”

Lyndsey felt her heart skip a beat. She hated how easily he could unsettle her with just a look. “You’re good at what you do,” she admitted reluctantly. “I guess I can’t fault you for being thorough.”

“Thorough is the reason you’re still alive,” Jake said evenly. “You’ve been targeted twice already. I don’t plan on giving them a third shot.”

The reminder sent a chill through her, and she wrapped her hands tighter around the mug. “But why? Why go to all this trouble? If someone wanted my research, wouldn’t it make more sense to keep me alive until I finished it?”

Jake’s expression hardened. He pushed off the wall and walked toward her, his steps slow and deliberate. “That’s what bothers me. They’re not just trying to scare you, Lyndsey. They’re trying to eliminate you.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” she said, her voice rising with frustration. “What’s the point of killing me if they need the research?”

“Maybe they already have part of it,” Jake said, his tone grim. “Or maybe they don’t want it out there at all. Maybe they would rather not have something like your nanobots even exist. Or maybe they think they can snatch what you have and have someone else finish it.”

“Someone else?” Lyndsey set her mug on the table, her hands trembling. “Do you have any idea how complicated this work is? It’s not just something anyone can pick up and replicate.”

Jake stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “Exactly. Which means they see you as a threat. A loose end.”

The impact of his words settled over her, and she looked away, her mind racing. “I just don’t understand who would go to these lengths. My research could save lives. I didn’t design it to be used as a weapon. It’s...”

“It could be,” Jake interrupted. “In the wrong hands, it could be turned into something else. Something dangerous.”

She met his gaze again, her throat tightening. “You really think they’ll keep coming, don’t you?”

Jake nodded. “Until we stop them. Yes.”

The certainty in his voice should have scared her. Instead, it made her feel strangely safe. “You sound so sure of yourself.”

“It’s my job to be sure,” Jake said, his voice softer now. “If I hesitate, people die.”

Lyndsey exhaled, her shoulders sagging. “And you don’t hesitate.”

“Never.”

The way he said it, his quiet confidence, was inspiring and comforting at the same time. She studied him, the strong lines of his face, the intensity in his eyes. There was something about Jake Sands that felt unshakable, immovable. And despite her frustration, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?”

“For not letting me brush you off,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to admit I needed help, but... I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there.”

Jake’s gaze softened slightly, and for the first time, she thought she saw a hint of something beneath the fierce protector. “You’re welcome,” he said simply.

The silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. Lyndsey could feel the energy in the room shift, charged with something she couldn’t quite name. She wanted to step back, to put distance between them, but she couldn’t make herself move.

“Lyndsey,” Jake said, his voice low, almost a warning.

She swallowed hard, her pulse racing. “What?”

He took another step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You need to know something.”

“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I take what I do seriously, personally. But somehow, this time,” he said, his eyes boring into hers. “It’s different.”

Her breath caught, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “How so?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity through her. “I’m not sure. You know I’m involved in the lifestyle. I got involved initially because it gave me control when I most needed it, and then it evolved to allows me to serve the sub I’m working with. Normally that’s how I approach a close cover job—I’m serving the need of the one in danger—but this just feels different.”

Lyndsey didn’t know what to say. The air between them felt almost suffocating, and she couldn’t look away from him. Part of her wanted to close the distance between them, to find out what it would feel like to let go for once. But another part, the part that always kept her grounded, screamed at her to pull back.

Before she could decide, Jake broke the stillness and stepped away, his jaw tight. “Get some rest. I’ll keep watch.”

The moment was gone, and Lyndsey felt its absence like a physical ache. She nodded, turning back to the window, her thoughts a jumble of fear, desire, and something she wasn’t ready to name.

“Goodnight, Jake,” she said softly.

“Goodnight, Lyndsey.” His voice was steady, but she didn’t miss the edge in it.

As he left the room, Lyndsey closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. The danger outside the cottage was real, but it was nothing compared to the danger brewing inside her.