Free Her Forbidden Hero by Laura Kaye

clothes for the morning from her trunk, and rushed across the lot. Other cars remained parked there, despite the fact the place was mostly empty, so hopefully her car wouldn’t raise any suspicion. Opening the back door, she peered inside. She took a deep breath that failed to calm her thundering heart and tried to act normal. If anyone asked, she could say…she’d left her cell phone in the green room. Yeah. No one would think twice about that.
    The metallic clang of pots and pans sounded out of the kitchen, but otherwise Whiskey’s was still and quiet. Once she was clear of the kitchen, she jogged down one hall, then another, and finally slipped into the green room. The lights flickered on automatically.
    Perched on the edge of the couch, Alyssa was sure any moment the door would burst open and a throng of employees would point accusing fingers at her. Every little noise had her flinching and straining to discern what she’d heard. She eventually set the alarm on her cell phone and stretched out on the couch, muscles tense, feeling nowhere close to falling asleep.
    After a few minutes, the lights went out and Alyssa tried to picture jumping sheep to distract herself from how wrong this was. Problem was, instead of saying, “Baa, baa,” as they went over the fence, those judgmental wool balls insisted on saying, “Bad, bad.”
    Okay, subconscious, duly noted.
    She woke up on and off most of the night, not successfully relaxing into the deep, restful sleep she craved until closer to morning. But finally, finally , she dozed off.
    “What the hell are you doing?”
    Alyssa jolted awake, not sure what had roused her. She lifted her head from the couch and blinked into the too-bright light. And there stood Marco, blue eyes blazing and anger carving sharp angles into his gorgeous face.
    Oh, crap.

Chapter Six
     
    Worry, adrenaline, and a healthy dose of anger had Marco nearly vibrating. “I have been out of my mind looking for you. What the hell are you doing in here?” His eyes scanned over her, looking for any sign that she wasn’t okay.
    Alyssa pushed into a sitting position, face pale and bloodshot eyes turning glassy. “Sleeping. What are you doing here?”
    “What am I…” Marco raked his hands through his hair. His heart was like a freight train roaring through his chest. “Well, let’s see. I came to work early to make sure my bar hadn’t gone to shit while I was out yesterday, only to find your car still parked outside.”
    Alyssa winced.
    “When you didn’t answer your cell for, oh, the fourth time, I figured either someone grabbed you in the parking lot or something happened to you in here.” Another possibility he’d entertained was that she’d gone home with one of the guys, which was almost as bad as the others. Any way he sliced it, he’d been convinced down to his bones that he’d failed in his job of protecting someone. Again. “I was two minutes away from calling 9-1-1. I’ve been tearing this place apart for the last half hour.” He blew out a breath, trying to calm the pounding of his pulse.
    Alyssa stood, appearing small and uncertain. “Look,” she said, not meeting his gaze, “I’m sorry I worried you. But I’m fine, as you can see.” She stuffed her feet into a pair of black Chucks.
    Bracing his hands on his hips, Marco glared. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”
    She rolled her eyes. “Nothing—”
    “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if someone else had been the one to find you? Dammit!”
    She shrank away from the escalating volume of his words, but he couldn’t hold it in. Now that he’d found her, those long moments of anxiety for her safety demanded release. Jesus, if anything had happened to her…
    “What time is it?” she asked.
    “Ten o’clock.”
    Her face went whiter, if that were possible. “Oh my God. I must’ve turned off my alarm. Are there other people here?”
    “Yes, Alyssa, there are. It’s Sunday. We