Sawyer was waiting for them in the hallway and led them past the guest rooms to an office at the opposite side of the hotel. “Welcome to Tech Central,” Sawyer said, motioning Rachel and Logan into the room with a sweeping gesture.

Immediately, she discovered the room was aptly named. While the room wasn’t large, every part of it was overrun by wires and gadgets, most of them unidentifiable to her. On the walls hung multiple giant screens, all of them seemingly connected to the computers and smaller monitors set at various points in the room. With all its lights and switches, the space reminded her of the control room at her news station if it were combined with the cockpit of an airplane. There were baskets filled with cell phones and others filled with what appeared to be radios and walkie-talkies. And she had no idea what to make of the three tall metal units with lights running up and down the front of them.

Sawyer must have read her confusion. He walked to the odd units and rested his hand on top of one. “In layman’s terms, these are our own private servers, complete with unique security programs to cloak our IP address. We can go anywhere on the web, including the Dark Web, without being traced or tracked.”

She was familiar with the Dark Web from a high-profile legal case in which a Michigan high school senior had gotten arrested for running a teenage prostitution ring he’d staffed with girls who went to his school. He’d used his computer skills to run a business on a “hidden” part of the Internet.

Sawyer pointed at the baskets. “We’ve got your typical burner phones, signal jammers, bug detectors, key loggers, frame grabbers, open-source software defined radios . . . you know, everything you’d expect.”

Wide-eyed, she slid a glance at Logan. To her, it was as if Sawyer was speaking another language, but Logan nodded enthusiastically, unfazed and seemingly impressed by Sawyer’s toys.

Three men walked in, stealing what little space was left in the room, as well as all the oxygen from her lungs.

Dear God, did all hackers look like this?

Realizing that her jaw had dropped open wide enough to catch flies, she quickly closed it. As soon as the guys spotted Logan, they rushed him, shaking his hand in greeting and smacking him on the back.

Watching with great interest from the sidelines, she observed the group of friends interacting as they quickly caught up with one another, using so much profanity she felt as if she needed another shower.

At five foot seven, she wasn’t used to feeling so small, but all of them towered over her. They were all breathtakingly handsome, although each in his own way. The amount of testosterone in the room was overwhelming.

She folded her arms in front of her to cover the proof of how these men affected her. Her mind flew to her earlier conversation with Logan about their propensity for sharing women. She couldn’t imagine a woman alive who would turn down the opportunity to have all those hands on her. No wonder they stuck to the combination of two guys, one woman.

Any more and the woman would spontaneously combust.

Was she seriously considering having a ménage à trois with Logan and one of his friends? Her gaze landed on the straining biceps of the biggest of the men, and she smiled.

Oh yeah, she was.

Since Logan had shared his feelings for her back in Florida, she’d been cautiously optimistic that they might actually have a shot. But either way, she was going to greedily consume every chance she got with him, including sharing all his kinks.

After a few minutes, Logan crooked his finger at her. “Guys, this is Rachel Dawson.” When she joined his side, he slipped his arm around her waist and nodded his chin in the direction of one of the men. “This here is Eddie ‘Oz’ Ackerman.”

“Call me Oz,” he said, his beaded dreadlocks swaying as he took her hand. With skin as dark as her favorite chocolate and teeth so bright and straight she wondered if they were fake, he leaned forward as if about to tell her a secret. “So are you two fucking? Because if you aren’t, I call dibs.”

Logan’s arm tightened around her. “You’ll have to excuse him. Oz was dropped on his head when he was a baby.”

A man who reminded her of Vin Diesel pounded Oz on the shoulder a couple of times. “And he liked it so much, he became a Hollywood stunt man just so he could get dropped on his head daily.”

After the roar of laugher died down, Sawyer pointed to Logan’s possessive hand on her hip. “As you can see, Logan’s already made his claim on the lovely Ms. Dawson.”

“Our loss,” said the Vin Diesel look-alike. He pushed Oz away and held out his hand to her. “Hunter Garrett. Sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.”

The biggest and most imposing of the bunch, Hunter was surprisingly friendly. The massive biceps she’d been admiring earlier seemed even larger up close, and the rest of him was just as muscular. Looking as if he could bench-press a car, he had a full sleeve of tattoos decorating both his arms, and piercings on his tongue, lip, and eyebrow.

She wondered where else he was pierced.

“And I’m Rowan Kimball,” said the last man quietly, not looking at her or offering his hand, but drumming a beat on his thigh. He didn’t seem rude, but possibly a bit shy. Although a man with his thick black hair and stunning blue-gray eyes had no reason to be. His face was all sharp angles with high cheekbones she would kill for. “I’ve accessed Senator Hutton’s private security company’s schedule as well as its details on the logistics of his speech,” he said as he ambled to one of the computers and sat down. He typed furiously and then the monitor in front of him lit up with information.

She walked up behind him to get a better look at the screen. “Wait, you’re telling me you’re good enough that you could hack into a security company’s records?”

“Honey, there ain’t nothing we can’t hack,” Oz said, taking a seat behind a different monitor. “If there was a computer in your panties, we could be in and out of there without you ever noticing.”

Hunter chuffed out a laugh. “Dude, do not speak for all of us. Believe me, if I was ever in her panties, she’d know it.”

She didn’t doubt that any one of those men would definitely leave his carbon footprint behind if he got anywhere near her panties. “No one is going near my panties,” she said without conviction.

Logan’s hands wrapped around her waist as he bumped into her from behind, not so subtly reminding her there was one man who would definitely be going near her panties later. “Can we move on from Rachel’s panties and move on to what you’ve all learned?”

Rowan’s screen lit up with a timeline of the senator’s schedule. “Senator Hutton is arriving tomorrow evening. He’s staying in a private donor’s home in Lake Las Vegas, and then on Friday at one, he’s speaking about his bill to increase funding for anti-bioterrorism to a room filled with his wealthiest donors, in the Tuscan Theater at the Tuscany Hotel.”

“That would be the perfect place for Evans and Fink to release Leopold,” Logan said excitedly. “Oz, can you access the blueprints of the hotel?”

Oz snorted. “Can I?” He shook his head dramatically and sighed as his fingers went to work, flying across the keyboard. “You insult me.”

In awe, Rachel watched as Oz brought up the Clark County Buildings Division’s internal server and accessed the blueprints with as much ease as she checked her e-mail. Logan hadn’t been kidding when he said they were the best hackers in the world. She’d been impressed by Logan’s ability to hack the cruise lines, but these guys made hacking look like child’s play.

Staring intently at the blueprints, she located the theater that was situated in the middle of the hotel, near the largest table games room in the casino and a wedding chapel.

Entertainers performing in the theater wouldn’t exactly use the same entrances as the rest of the hotel and casino patrons. They would have their own separate entrance.