Page 69 of Stripped

"Oh." She wanted to respond, to say he had no right to do that, but the look he gave her kept her quiet. Not here, not now.

"Ms. McNeil—"

"Please, it's Pim. I thought we established that last night."

Alex gave her a nod. "Pim. Wraith filled me in on your encounter with Viktor Sokolov."

She poked the yolk of her egg with her fork, watching the thick yellow center ooze across her plate. A heart—she quickly sliced her knife through it, the paradox mocking her.

Sinclair took the seat next to her, setting his plate of bacon rolls down. She didn't want to look at any of the men, ashamed they now knew what had transpired, ashamed she had let the girl die.

"I was hoping we could work together." Alexander leaned forward as if to emphasize his point.

"I'm not sure how much help I would be." The yolk coagulated on her fork in sticky clumps, turning her already tense stomach in knots. She set it down and picked up her coffee.

"On the contrary, you've seen him. You know his personality."

"What do you want from me?" she asked directly, mustering the courage to look him in the eyes. "I'm not one of you. I'm a ballet dancer. I'm not a fucking detective."

"Sinclair does composite drawings. Sit with him for an hour and see what you can come up with. Then we want you to dance at the gala tonight. Sokolov will be there. You have become his obsession. He wouldn't miss the opportunity."

She laughed, the idea of what he was asking now dawning on her. "I apologize for being a bit slow." She pressed her lips together. "You intend to use me to lure in Sokolov." He would be there, she knew it, and something tensed at the base of her spine she couldn't quite put her finger on. Trepidation? No, that wasn't right, possibly anticipation.

"Not use you. Wraith will be there the entire time to protect you while we take care of Sokolov."

She looked across at Wraith. He had remained silent this entire time. His brows were drawn down in a frown, looking grim.

"This would make me an accomplice. It would make me a part of whatever it is you call this organization."

"And what about those young girls?" Sinclair asked. "He will keep doing what he does to them. Taking them from their families in Russia, promising their parents a better life for them and then selling them into sex trafficking."

"Don't put that on me." She shook her head. "How dare you put that on me. He should be arrested. Put in jail. There are legal ways to handle this."

Sinclair turned his chair to face her. "Do you think a man like Viktor Sokolov would be stupid enough to get arrested? And even if he was, he has enough money, lawyers, and contacts to get him off. Bloody hell, one of his aliases is a foreign ambassador. He would be given diplomatic immunity at this point."

"Enough," Wraith shouted. "She'll do the composite, and then we'll go to Glasgow. We're running out of time."

Her head shot around to him, her eyes opening wide. "Or what? What if I say no? Will you kill me?" She regretted the words as soon as she said them, knowing she made him no better than the colonel with his threats. Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she blinked several times, trying to stop them. Wraith's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he cocked his head to the side, rubbing his chin. "Don't tempt me."

"Wraith's right. We are running out of time," Alex said. "I won't force you to do anything you don't want to, Pim, but we could use your help."

Her eyes were still locked on Wraith. Could she trust him to protect her? The feel of his body as he held her after they'd made love sent a shiver down her spine. Maybe that wasn't the right question. He would protect her. The real question was would she allow him to protect her? "Fine," she said. "I'll help."

She spent the next hour sequestered in Alex's office with Sinclair, as he grilled her on Sokolov's appearance and personality. He wanted to know the fine nuances, traits and tics, of the man, anything that influenced the make-up of his person and his character. In the end, they had a close enough resemblance she thought to be useful. Sinclair proved himself to be a fine artist.

"You asked what makes a man evil," he said as he put away his charcoal pencils and wiped the black dust from his fingers.

"I don't think I want to know anymore." She was exhausted from the questions and reliving the experience.

"Perhaps we all have it in us to be evil and we all find ourselves there on some scale."

She thought of her own dark thoughts and her need to dally in the shadows of life. She much preferred dancing the black swan over the white swan. There was truth in what he said. "Then the real question is how do we keep from going there fully? How do we prevent ourselves from becoming Viktor Sokolov?"

He looked at her thoughtfully "By surrounding ourselves with people like Wraith."

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