Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Is that what he thought? “How are you going to get into the office without me?”
“You’re going to give me your key.”
“And send you to rifle through Benedict’s things alone? That’s what you think?”
“I’m not bringing you, Haisley. That’s final. This could be dangerous.”
“Life is dangerous. I could be hit by a bus tomorrow.”
“There aren’t that many buses in Lafayette,” he pointed out.
“You know what I mean. Besides, if we’re caught, I’m your get-out-of-jail-free card. I can say that I needed something I’d left in the office, but I was too afraid to come alone after dark… If you’re caught without me, no one will ask questions. They’ll just haul you off to jail.”
“I won’t get caught.”
“You don’t know that. Besides, I’ve been in Benedict’s lair a few times. I have a sense of his organization system and where he might hide things. It will take me less time to find anything implicating, which means less time to get caught. You’re taking me with you.”
Nash sighed in defeat. “You’re a pain in my ass, Rowe.”
“Does logic hurt your posterior, Scott?”
“No. But you clearly need yours spanked red.”
Haisley clenched, memories of all the pleasurable times he’d warmed her cheeks with his bare palm—slowly, steadily, inexorably heating her up and making her drip with need for him. But that was a long time ago. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“I didn’t ask you to. We’re supposed to be working together. Benedict said so. Should I meet you there?”
“Fuck,” he muttered. “No. I don’t want your car captured on the lot’s cameras. I don’t want him having any way to connect you in case he realizes someone searched his office.”
Yeah, she’d rather not be harangued by her asshole of a boss, either. “So what’s the plan?”
“Oh, you’re going to let me come up with that part?”
“If you’re dispensing sarcasm, that’s lame. You better bring your A-game, because I’m damn good at it.”
“Vixen.” He sighed. “I’ll pick you up in twenty. Wear head-to-toe black.”
“So I blend in better when all the lights are off?”
“And because you look hot in black. Bye.”
Haisley tried not to smile. “I’ve moved since I had that apartment way back when. Don’t you need my address, hotshot?”
Nash laughed. “No.”
Dead air told her he’d ended their call. That sexy bastard had already figured out where she lived? Because he’d been curious? Because he was a control freak? Or…because she mattered to him?
The unanswered questions spun in her brain as she tossed on some dark yoga pants, a black turtleneck, and matching tennis shoes. She shoved her hair into a messy bun and tucked it under a black cap she’d bought on a ski trip to Colorado a few winters past.
Ten minutes later, Nash pulled up on his motorcycle and tossed her a helmet. Wordlessly, she climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
As he took off into the darkening night, she resisted the urge to lay her cheek on the wide, muscled expanse of his back. She hadn’t touched Nash since New Year’s Eve. She hadn’t cooled down since then, either. Being this close to him thickened her desire and sent her self-control reeling.
Ten minutes later, he parked in the lot of a twenty-four-hour greasy spoon down the street from her office and helped her off before locking away their helmets. “Let’s go.”
“How are we approaching? There are only two doors in and out of the building and—”
“There are three. We’re using the service entrance. I scoped it out the first day, looking for the building’s weaknesses and escape points. Once we’ve gone up the freight elevator, you can get us inside your office door. Thank god this is an historic building, and no one wanted to sully tradition by installing electronic card readers that would leave a digital trail of your visit.”
Haisley pulled her keyring from her pocket. “Lead the way.”
As they neared the building, he lifted his finger to his lips to indicate silence, then guided her toward a side entrance she’d never noticed. Then again, she’d never been to the building’s loading dock.
Outside, an elderly black man waited under a dim light, flipping a coin in a rickety old chair.
“Hey, Zeph,” Nash called.
The older man rose. “Door’s open, like you asked.”
“You’re a hero.” Nash slid him fifty bucks. “As promised.”
“Just doing my bit. Hope you find what you’re looking for. You’ve got an hour. Then I have to lock up.”
“We’ll be out of here in half that.” Nash clapped his shoulder. “You have my number if you see anyone coming.”
“I do, and I’m watching.” The old man nodded her way. “Miss.”
She smiled. “Thanks. We appreciate you.”
He tipped his cap to her as they slid inside the building and headed through the section that had been cordoned off as a warehouse. Through another door, one she’d bet was usually locked after hours, Nash emerged into the building’s main lobby. He plastered himself against the wall, then settled his arm in front of her to press her flat, too. “Cameras are here and here.” He pointed with a whisper. “We’re in a dead zone. Zeph has a friend in security who’s going to reboot the system, including the cameras. It should take two minutes. We’ll have to be on the elevator by then.”