Page 66 of Wicked and Ruthless

“But we have to acknowledge that he could be scrambling simply because replacing any employee with mall-management experience will be difficult, not to mention time-consuming and costly.” She wasn’t defending Benedict as much as she was playing devil’s advocate.

“True, but he could also be worried that his partner in crime got exposed and is now hanging in the wind with his dick flapping around.”

“You’re right. So…let’s try to figure out what’s up with my boss.”

“There’s no ‘we.’ You’re not going.”

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.

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