Page 67 of Wicked and Ruthless

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.”

“Got it.”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pair of leather gloves. He handed her a purple latex pair, like she’d seen in a doctor’s office. “Put those on and listen to me. No matter what happens, you follow my instructions. Do you understand? If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to run, you run. No questions asked.”

“Nash…”

“Nope. Agree now or I’m taking your office key and sending you outside to spend an hour with Zeph. Your choice.”

She loved how protective he was, and she even had an appreciation for his bossy side. Not that she would tell him. Who knew if he was cautious because she mattered to him…or because he didn’t want to clean up her blood and guts?

She rolled her eyes. “Do I need your permission to breathe, too?”

“This is no joke.”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Keep with the attitude, and I’ll?—”

Nash’s phone buzzed in the otherwise silent lobby. He read it, then scanned the room.

“You’ll what?”

“Later.” He gestured her to follow. “We’re on the clock. Let’s go.”

He hailed the elevator. Together, they crashed inside it with just under a minute to spare. Thankfully, the people helping Nash had not only killed the cameras in the lobby, they’d cut off the lights inside the car, too.

God, she loved to see him at work. He was methodical, thorough, and seemingly thought of everything. It was surprisingly sexy. Maybe because that was the way he functioned in bed, too.