Page 33 of Wicked and Bound

With that, Kane was gone.

Nash returned to the suite, ordered coffee and breakfast, then showered. Haisley was still sleeping when he stepped out for his spa appointment. Time to meet their inside help. He hoped Karliah had new intel because this mission wasn’t proceeding fast enough for his peace of mind.

When he strolled in, the spa gleamed with marble and chrome, all luxury masking its darker side.

A stunning blonde approached, her smile professional but her green eyes sharp. “Mr. King?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m Karliah. It will be my pleasure to take care of you today.” Her voice carried a hint of flirtation.

Nash played his part, raking his stare down her figure. “Lucky me. How long have you worked here?”

“I’ve been doing hair for years, but I just got to the island yesterday.” As she led him to the shampoo bowl, she chatted as if innocuously passing the time. “I’ve already met a lot of interesting people! Everyone has such exciting stories.” Her fingers worked his scalp, and it was clear that, even if she wasan operative, she’d had decent training with hair. “I’ve already heard whispers about a special visitor in the next week or two. I can’t wait to find out more.”

Nash caught her meaning. Someone important was coming—someone who had the staff nervous.

“Hmm. Maybe you’d like to tell me more this evening?” he asked smoothly.

“I’d be thrilled.” She settled him into the chair and lowered it to compensate for his height before she reached for a comb.

Nash smothered a smile when she had to stand on her tiptoes. “What time does your shift end, sweetheart?”

“Six. I had no idea a big, strong man like you would be interested in beauty shop gossip,” she cooed.

“I’m not. But I’m always interested in a beautiful woman.”

She actually managed a blush as she snipped away at his hair.

The conversation lapsed, and he continued to watch her confident clips. She finished off his trim with a little hair paste, wielded the blow dryer to sweep the excess hair from his shoulders, then slipped something into his pocket as she removed the cape. “All done. I’m looking forward to seeing you this evening.”

With a salute, he left the spa and hustled into the bathroom adjacent to the gym. In the privacy of a stall, Nash unfolded the note, careful to ensure his head blocked any overhead cameras. The boss—whom everyone had dubbed Black Velvet—was coming. Karliah was trying to get more details.

Good. If the head of this warped operation was coming, maybe they could blow this investigation wide open.

He couldn’t wait to hear what else Karliah knew.

For now, he shredded the note and flushed it. Then returned to the suite to find Haisley at the makeshift breakfast table.

“You’re up.” He kept his voice carefully neutral. “Sleep good?”

“Well enough.” Haisley pushed eggs around her plate. “New haircut?”

He nodded. “New stylist.”

“Good for you.”

Yep, she was still pissed.

The silence stretched between them, loaded with things they couldn’t say. He ached to know precisely what she was thinking, to get her alone for ten minutes so he could explain. He could drag her to the beach for a private chat, but he knew Haisley. Until she was ready to cool down, his attempt to work things out would go nowhere. So he poured coffee and pretended normalcy instead.

They passed the rest of the afternoon in strained silence. Nash feigned an emergency in his textile business, typing pointlessly on his laptop while Haisley crashed on the sofa and zoned out with the TV. Every nerve in his body was aware of her every move and breath.

The weight of their forced performance pressed against him. If he didn’t take her to bed soon and start treating her like his “breeder,” this undercover operation could blow up in their faces.

Christ, he had to find the right way out—for Haisley, for the other victims, for everyone trapped in this hell.

Just before six, Nash snapped his laptop closed.

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