Page 11 of Hidden Attraction

From behind the column, he felt the burn of someone staring at him. He turned his head and met Alyssa’s golden-brown stare.

“You good?”

Pale from fear, she gave him a jerky nod, though her throat worked and her wide eyes said differently.

He looked to her assistant. “You?”

She gave a shaky nod in answer.

“Chase—the car.” Denver paused to point at the vehicle that just rolled up near the guy Denver shot. Blood spread in a gruesome pool on the pavement.

Chase reached for Alyssa. Dammit, the way she was looking at him, like he was the only man on Earth she trusted, sent a visceral heat flooding into his chest.

Something ancient surged in him, a protective instinct older than logic or training. And now, all he could think about was shielding her from the world, even if it meant setting it on fire. The attack hadn’t just frightened her—it had marked something in him, branded him.

She didn’t need to ask for his protection. It was already hers. Unconditional. Immediate. Absolute.

He hadn’t been there for Echo. But he could be here for her.

With his arm around her shoulders and his body shielding her from any more attempts on her life, he rushed her to the car, Denver a step behind with Kennedy in tow.

The valet peered around at the men on the ground in confusion. “Your…car, sir?”

The vehicle should have been there seven minutes sooner—before the attack began.

“Took ya long enough,” he barked. “Wait here with these men. The police are on their way.”

As he spoke, the blare of sirens wailed through the city street. Chase ripped open the back door and plastered his hand over Alyssa’s head to help her duck inside.

Denver did the same and then slammed his own door last. With everyone safe, Chase shot into traffic.

Silence throbbed inside the vehicle. What felt like an hour passed while they only traveled two blocks. His mind was on other battlefields. Ones that didn’t involve crowded city streets and four masked men leaping out of a fucking van.

“W-what was that?” Alyssa’s voice wobbled.

He gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles going bone-white from the force. Fury pounded his system like heavy artillery.

“That was too close,” Denver said.

“N-no one is supposed to know I’m here. Only the secretary-general of the United Nations, my security detail and Kennedy.”

“Exactly.” Chase’s words were steel dragged over gravel. “And yet they were waiting with masks and guns.”

“It was even harder to time when we would step out of that hotel.” Denver’s tone was stony.

Alyssa made a soft noise but said nothing. In the mirror, Chase saw her shake her head. A tendril of glossy black hair floated over her cheek, broken free of her ponytail. He gripped the wheel tighter, still able to feel the heat and texture of her hair under his hand when he shoved her into the car.

“Reporters were outside our h-hotel. Someone might have followed us to the airstrip.”

Kennedy spoke up, her tone laced with strain. “Wouldn’t everyone guess that the ambassador would return to the States after the attack?”

“To the States, yes. New York City, maybe. But those guys pulled up at theexact momentwe exited the hotel. Guesses aren’t that precise.” The words were sharp-edged in his mouth for no reason he could comprehend.

“My itinerary was sent to me over an encrypted message on my government-issue tablet. No one could have gotten my schedule—there wasn’t time.”

Kennedy nodded in agreement.

They were after all of us.The thought made his blood pulse with cold fury.

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