Page 6 of Enticing Kane

She took a quick minute to use a little bit of water to sponge off the grime from traveling and changing into more suitable work clothes. Maggie pulled her long, blonde hair back and made a fishtail braid, flipping it over her shoulder. She exited her tent, stretched, and headed toward the dig site.

But before she could take more than a few steps, a low rumble reached her ears. She turned, shading her eyes against the sun, and saw a dust cloud on the horizon, growing larger by the second. The knot in her stomach tightened. It wasn’t unusual for vehicles to pass by—locals, other researchers—but something about this felt different, more deliberate.

As the vehicles drew closer, she could make out the shapes of armored Jeeps, their tires kicking up clouds of sand as they sped toward the site. Maggie’s pulse quickened. She couldn’t imagine who these people might be. They certainly hadn’t been part of the scenario as it had been explained to her. Who were they?

As the Jeeps skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust, the dig workers stopped working and watched them with rapt interest. Maggie instinctively took a step back as the doors opened and armed men stepped out. Her heart pounded in her chest, but as she scanned the group, one figure stood out from the rest.

Kane Chaplin.

He moved with the same predatory grace she had seen at the club, his dark, intense eyes scanning the area with military precision. He looked out of place here, among the ruins, but also somehow… right. As if he belonged in this harsh, unforgiving landscape.

Maggie’s initial relief at seeing a familiar face quickly gave way to irritation. What the hell was he doing here? Damn Matt.

Kane spotted her almost immediately, his gaze locking onto hers. He strode over, his expression unreadable, and stopped a few feet away, his presence as commanding as ever.

“Dr. Dillon,” he greeted her with a nod. “I’m Kane Chaplin.”

“I know who you are, Mr. Chaplin.”

“I’m here to ensure your safety.”

Maggie bristled at his tone, at the implication that she couldn’t handle herself. “I didn’t ask for a bodyguard,” she snapped. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

Kane’s expression didn’t change. “Your brother seems to think otherwise.”

Damn Matt. Maggie clenched her fists, anger bubbling up inside her. She should have known. “Matt had no right to do this. I don’t need you here.”

“Whether you think you need me or not is irrelevant,” Kane replied, his voice calm, almost bored.

“I want you to leave. I’m firing you.”

“Unfortunately, Dr. Dillon, you aren’t the client. I’m here, and I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re safe.”

Maggie glared at him, but she knew it was a losing battle. Once Matt had set his mind on something, there was no changing it. And clearly, he had decided that she needed protection, whether she liked it or not.

“Fine,” she muttered, turning away from him. “But keep away from me and stay out of my way.”

Kane didn’t respond, and she didn’t look back as she marched toward the ruins, her frustration mounting with every step. This was supposed to be her dig, the first time she was in charge, her chance to prove herself in the field, and now it felt like she was being babysat.

As she reached the edge of the site, Maggie paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She had worked too hard to let this ruin her focus. Kane might be an unwelcome intrusion, but she wouldn’t let him distract her from the work that mattered.

As she surveyed the ruins, her excitement returned, washing away some of the tension. This was what she had dreamed of—standing on the edge of history, ready to uncover its secrets. Whatever else was happening, whatever dangers might be lurking, this was where she belonged.

Still, as she began her work, Maggie couldn’t help but notice the way the local workers glanced nervously at the horizon, whispering among themselves about nearby militia activity. The tension in the air was palpable, a constant reminder that she was far from the safety of home.

And despite her irritation, despite her insistence that she didn’t need a bodyguard, Maggie found herself glancing back at Kane more than once, his presence a silent, reassuring shadow at the edge of her vision. He was a man accustomed to danger, a man who seemed to thrive in it.

For now, she would focus on the dig, on the history waiting to be uncovered beneath the sands. But Maggie knew that in this place, far from everything familiar, the past wasn’t the only thing she needed to be wary of.

And as much as she hated to admit it, Kane Chaplin might be exactly what she needed.

Chapter Three

Kane

Kane stood on the edge of the excavation site, his gaze sweeping across the ruins bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The air was thick with the dry heat of the Syrian desert, the kind that clung to your skin and filled your lungs with every breath. Despite the oppressive warmth, Kane’s senses were sharp, his body taut with the constant vigilance that had become second nature to him.

He had been in this place for over a week now, and each day was a study in contrast. The ancient city that Maggie and her team were painstakingly unearthing was a testament to human endurance and creativity, yet the surrounding landscape spoke of violence and turmoil. The locals whispered of nearby militia activity, and while the dig was sanctioned and protected by the Syrian government, Kane knew better than to put any trust in official assurances. Danger was always lurking just out of sight, waiting for a moment of weakness.

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