Page 40 of Wicked and Bound

“If I didn’t act as if I’m trying to hook up with her, what excuse could I give for us talking? What happens if they get suspicious enough to investigate? If Gray, Dr. Haynes, or their minions get suspicious enough to dig?”

Grudgingly, Haisley understood. But she hated it.

Hot tears mixed with the shower spray as she pressed her face into his chest. “You’re explaining? You’re risking your cover to protect my feelings?”

“Yes. I see this is breaking you.” His arms tightened around her. “But I can’t always do it. These people will kill us.”

He was right. She was putting him in a horrible position, thinking with her heart, instead of her head. She had to stop letting her emotions get the best of her.

“You’re right.” She lifted her head, meeting his concerned stare through the steam. “We can’t fight them if we’re fighting each other. I’ll try to be a better partner.”

“I want more than that.” His thumb traced her cheek. “After all this is over, I want us.”

Warm water sluiced over them, but Haisley shivered. Last night had proved that, no matter what, he owned her, heart and soul. She felt so uncertain, like a newborn fawn on wobbly emotional legs. But she had to get it together—for both their sakes. “We can’t know about tomorrow. Not now. But I won’t let my feelings put you in danger anymore.”

“Haisley, baby. You?—”

She stretched up and covered his lips with her own. “Later. We’ll figure us out then. Right now, we need to focus on surviving.”

He sighed. “I hate this. All of it.”

“Me, too. But I’ll try to help in every way I can. Any idea what Dr. Evil meant by an event tomorrow night?”

“I caught that, too, but I have no idea. Something tells me we’ll find out soon, and we’ll handle it.”

“Together. We have to.” The enemy had left them no choice. “I need to feel like more than a fixture. I need to know what’s going on.”

He nodded, then kissed her forehead. For a moment, they just held each other while the water cascaded over them. So much unsaid. So much uncertainty.

She only prayed her heart would survive whatever came next.

CHAPTER TEN

The following morning, the thick cream envelope slid under their door just after sunrise, its red-lined interior visible even before Nash picked it up. His stomach knotted as he read the elaborate script:

You are cordially invited to an exclusive gathering of select masters and merchandise tonight at midnight in the Rose Room. Join us for an evening of public play and private pleasures. Costumes will be provided. Your participation is eagerly anticipated.

Nash’s jaw clenched. Considering Gray’s warnings about his “lack of effort,” this wasn’t really an invitation. It was a command performance.

He watched Haisley sleep, her face finally peaceful. He hated to shatter that calm and drag her deeper into this nightmare. Butsince coming to the Velvet Cove, he’d tried to shield her from the surrounding horrors, and it had backfired.

She’d been so brave, but last night he’d seen the shadows in her eyes, noticed her facade fraying. He’d realized that, in trying to protect her, he’d put distance between them that made her feel vulnerable and alone.

As much as he hated exposing her to more danger, they stood a better chance of surviving if they worked together. She might not be an operative, but she was smart and observant. And he could use all the help he could get.

When she stirred, he handed her the invitation. The color drained from her face as she read, but she lifted her chin. “I suppose you’ll be…taking me to this evening’s festivities?”

He wanted to gather her close and promise everything would be okay. Instead, he watched her hands tremble as she set the invitation aside. “You’ll do everything I tell you to. Or there will be consequences.”

Haisley bit her lip and sent him a submissive nod, eyes downcast. He had to give her credit. She was playing her part perfectly.

The day crawled by until two boxes arrived that evening. Nash’s contained a floor-length black cloak and an ornate mask that would cover most of his face. Haisley’s made his blood run hot—then cold. The completely sheer black lace dress would hide nothing. The tiny heart-shaped pasties and scrap of black silk masquerading as underwear would provide the merest wisp of coverage.

She stared at the outfit in horror.

Nash took her hand. “Come with me.”

He guided her to the beach, where waves would cover their whispered conversation. Dutifully, she followed.

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