Third, I was still hard.
I tried to shove that thought aside. It wasn't helpful. It accomplished nothing, except to remind me what Nyla's bottom lip tasted like when I sucked on it. To make me remember how soft that patch of skin just on the inside of her elbow was and that she was completely untouchable. I liked it that way. This wasn't some woman who I was going to burn the panties off of. Nyla Kincade had seen it all. And she was unimpressed by any of it.
The guy at the reception desk led me back to the double-pane glass doors toward the offices and down a long corridor that had names on each glass door we passed. When I finally saw Nyla's name, my heart rate kicked into full gallop.
Easy does it.
I forced myself to take a long deep inhale, just so I wouldn't have to smell her when I stepped inside. That would be for the best. I knocked on her door as I opened it, and she took a moment to lift her head. When she did, the shock was evident. But then there was a hint of something. Was that a smile maybe?
Don't get ahead of yourself. This one is tough as nails and likely to be a lot of trouble.
She waved me in, and I stepped inside. "So, this is where all the Interpol magic happens?"
She sat back and spread her arms. "Oh yes, clearly. Magic happening."
"Why do you look like you were busy engraving symbols onto a pad of paper?"
"What are you doing here, East?"
"Ah, I do love that we have graduated to my actual name, and not Mr. Hale, or that billionaire over there, or my personal favorite, jackass. I'm so glad we have progressed from jackass."
"What is it about you that won’t take no for an answer?"
I shrugged. "I'm just really stubborn. That's my greatest weakness.”
She shook her head. “You know what, I don’t really have time for this. As you can see, I have a lot to do. But I’m not a rude person, so I guess I should say thank you for the visit, however, I really am swamped."
"This isn't actually a social call."
"Right. You could have fooled me. If you wanted a tour of the offices, all you had to do is ask."
I laughed. "The thing is, as much fun as a tour with you would be, that's not why I'm here."
She set her pen down and leaned forward. "Oh, yeah? Then why are you here?"
"I thought that maybe you would like to meet Marielle Lipton."
Her brows lifted, and her shoulders sagged briefly as though I’d knocked the wind out of her sails. "The Marielle Lipton?"
I nodded. "Yup. I managed to arrange an appointment with her this afternoon if you think you have time."
She gave me a look that said, oh, she would find time for this. "How do you know Marielle Lipton? She hasn't taken any interviews in, God, three years, since she was released from prison, and certainly not one with Interpol because, after all, she's free now. Free to become a valuable member of society. How in the world did you get her to agree to talk to me?"
"Let's just say I know people in high places."
"I swear to God, is one of your friends someone prominent in the government or something? I mean, just how rich are you three?"
I laughed. "Yeah, money helps. I'm not going to lie. But also I called in a favor."
The crease between her brows showed up again. "Why?"
I shrugged, keeping it cool. “Just because. So, do you want to meet her or not?"
She pushed to her feet. "Okay fine, how do you always know what to tempt me with?"
"Well…" I grinned at her. "I know what you like."
I knew I was pouring on the flirtation all the way, and she knew it too, because she just rolled her eyes and laughed.
"You cannot help yourself, can you? You literally can't. If there's a woman in the room, you just have to flirt."
"Okay, fine. I like flirting with you. That's person specific, not gender specific. Um, also, I am very good at it."
She choked a cough.
"Give me some credit. Come on, let’s see if we can catch your forger. Or at least get you some help."
As we stepped out of her office, a man came striding down the hall, and I could tell from her body language that Nyla instantly tensed up. I knew he must be the ex she’d talked about on the plane. Her boss.
Glued to his side as if by surgery was a brunette with big blue eyes and clear pale skin, but she lacked that fire that Nyla had. I knew the guy was Denning Sinclair because I had just done some discreet digging on my own. And the woman with him was Hazel Frost, his new girlfriend. How he thought he could do better than Nyla was beyond me.
Nyla stiffened as she closed and locked her office door. When she turned to face the approaching duo, she murmured, "Denning," and then signaled for me to move on.
But Denning stopped, his gaze dissecting me like an insect. "Where are you two off to?"
God, what a prick.
He reached out his hand to shake mine, and I just watched him and narrowed my gaze. Ben, Bridge, and I had decided not to use the Elite's powers of influence for evil, but at this moment, I really, really wanted to. I finally accepted his handshake and said, "Ah, Denning Sinclair. Pleasure. I’m East Hale." I had the incomprehensible urge to kick his teeth in.
His brows drew down an inch. "What are you doing with Nyla here?"
I shrugged. "Well, I was lost. She was helping me find my way. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere we need to go." And with
