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What she wouldn’t do was go rogue.
“You’re in charge,” Nyx assured him, wanting him to understand she wouldn’t be a bigger liability than she was already. “You’re the one with experience. If we need research done, then I can take over. Grad school taught me my way around a library.”
Lurch smiled and Nyx nearly sighed. It was a good thing he didn’t do that often, or she’d be in big trouble.
“Thanks. I’m aware you like to call the shots.”
How did he know that?
His smile broadened. “Fireball, I realized the first time we met that you were strong-willed. It’s one of the things I appreciate about you.”
It was Nyx’s turn to smile. “As I recall, it irritated you when we met, not something you deemed a virtue.”
“You’re wrong,” he said. “If you’d walked away when I glared, I would have forgotten about you.”
Was he implying that he hadn’t put her out of his mind? Or was she reading too much into it because she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him?
Lurch’s hands went to her hips, and he pulled her closer. Although he seemed to be looking at her, his gaze was to his right. The balcony. One of the guards was peering in the window. Damn, she was glad he was cognizant of what was going on around them but disappointed that his touch was for show. Nyx put her hands on his shoulders and tried for an adoring expression.
“Our relationship will never be dull, since you like issuing orders, too.” Nyx forced the teasing tone in case he’d missed a microphone, but fear had returned. Her life literally hung on the whim of a drug lord.
Maybe he saw it in her eyes. Maybe he sensed it. Lurch’s expression became serious. “I’m going to do everything in my power to get you out of here safely. I promise.”
“I know you will. I trust you.”
The words meant something to him. Nyx saw it on his face, but before she could figure out how to ask why, his lips brushed over hers, and he released her, putting distance between them. More show for their guards, not a real kiss. The disappointment surprised her.
Lurch returned to pacing and Nyx retreated to the sofa. Everything would be easier if they didn’t have to act as if eyes were on them all the time. They could get to know each other. She could ask questions about things an engaged woman would already know about her fiancé. If she didn’t need to worry about bugs and eavesdroppers, she could tell him who her brother was, and let Lurch know that she was aware he wasn’t a mercenary.
She couldn’t do any of those things.
A door opened, and Nyx stiffened, unsure if Lurch needed her to stay put or if it would better to stand with him. Before she could make a decision, a man loomed in the entrance to the sitting room, her Special Forces sergeant right behind him.
“Señorita Templeton,” the man in the dark suit and tie said, “Señor Vargas requests your presence in his office.”
Nyx stood in the most ostentatious office she’d ever seen and struggled to breathe. She was alone. Lurch was not invited, and his arguments had been shut down. Two men aiming assault rifles at him had dissuaded him from trying to tag along.
Armed guards stood to her right, one on either side of the wide entrance, and she tried not to hyperventilate. She needed to be cool. She needed to be in control. She needed to be ready to save herself and Lurch if the situation required it.
Focus. Breathe. To keep her eyes off the guards, she examined the office. The floor was marble, the walls were painted a rich charcoal gray, and white molding outlined individually illuminated artwork. Nyx assumed they were expensive, but she couldn’t identify the artists.
To her left was a black table with two chairs upholstered in gold velvet. The desk and the bookcase behind it were white and black with generous amounts of gilt, with two sconces on either side of it. There was a tray ceiling with intricate molding, and behind her on the right was a seating area. She’d only gotten a glimpse of it and didn’t want to turn around and look, but if her memory was correct, it was as wildly inappropriate for the rainforest as the rest of the office.
The top of the desk had nothing except a table lamp on it. Nyx stared at the black lampshade using it to center herself. Damn, she wished Lurch was with her. He’d know what to say, how to maneuver with the drug lord.
Before she was ready, the guards came to attention and the man from the ruins walked in, taking the seat behind the desk. He wore a suit and tie, but it did nothing to conceal the fact killing was casual for him. Nyx fisted her hands at her sides, trying to hide her nerves.
“Señorita Templeton,” he said in English, “how nice of you to join me.”
As if she had a choice. “Señor Vargas.”
He stared at her for a moment. A long, uncomfortable moment. “You work for the Paladin League.”
Shit, shit, shit. He’d investigated her. If he was aware of her ties to the Paladin League, did he know about her family, too? Calmness descended, and she cloaked herself in it. She’d do whatever it took to protect her parents, her siblings, and everyone else she loved.
“I’m a contractor, not an employee, but yes, I’ve worked for the Paladin League.” She couched it in past tense, hoping that Vargas would think she wasn’t currently working for them, but not anger him if he did know that little fact.
“Contractor?” Vargas asked with no inflection.