Page 36 of Wicked and Claimed

Haisley swallowed hard against the sudden, visceral rush of bone-deep attraction.

Recognition sparked in Nash’s gaze. A flicker of something deeper Haisley couldn’t decipher crossed his face. His brow furrowed with a primal dare that raised the fine hairs along Haisley’s nape. Then his expression shuttered closed.

Mr. Benedict stared between them, frowning as if trying to grasp the sudden undercurrent. “Are you Nash Scott? This is Haisley Rowe, our new social media director. Haisley, Nash is one of the operatives who will be leading EM Security Management’s investigation into the…situation at the mall.”

Several beats of charged silence stretched between them, thin and taut.

Suddenly, Mila appeared, her giggle slicing through the tension. “Looks like you two have already met.”

Nash turned a scorching gaze on the boss’s wife. Mila’s playfulness vanished.

Haisley gave herself a mental shake and forced a smile. She was not about to clue in her new boss—or his nosy wife—about her old flame. “Nice to make your acquaintance once again, Mr. Scott. I look forward to assisting your team in any way I can.”

Another heavy pause hung between them, rife with all the things they couldn’t say. Not here. Not with witnesses present. Not with their tangled history. And definitely not with the secrets she was keeping.

Then Nash’s jaw took on a stubborn set, his expression an impassive slab of granite. “I’m sure you do, Ms. Rowe. I look forward to working very closely with you.”

His words rang like a vow—equal parts unspoken promise and veiled threat. Despite the perspiration prickling along her hairline, a reckless thrill jetted through Haisley’s veins. A matching excitement pooled between her legs.

The man did that to her every damn time she saw him.

Nash’s burning expression launched a thousand memories of him kissing her, of him peeling off her clothes, of him with his head buried between her legs as she pleaded for release, of him fucking her relentlessly until she saw stars.

She felt herself blushing and tried to look away, but his intent stare wouldn’t let her escape.

Mr. Benedict cleared his throat, shaking off the awkward air that had settled over them. “Yes, well, you two can become…reacquainted after we’ve addressed a few critical matters.” He turned to Nash and lifted his jaw in a gesture of brisk authority. “As soon as you’re able, I want a status update on the investigation into the missing women. Have you started your preliminary look into this? Made any headway yet?”

“I’m still gathering information, sir. My associate, Mr. Garrison, is interviewing potential witnesses today. I’ll be reviewing the information you passed on and combine it with whatever Ethan finds. We’ll pursue every available lead—official channels, underworld sources, whatever it takes. I’m even extending some online feelers into the more…unconventional spheres. And I’ll factor in anything Ms. Rowe passes my way.”

Nash slanted her a hooded stare, causing the fine hairs along her nape to prickle again. A frisson of tension slid through her, adding to the lingering thrill of his proximity.

When she hadn’t heard from him all weekend, part of her had hoped that kiss was the booze and the festivities talking and that he’d keep distance between them. His expression told her the chance of that happening was zero, especially now that they’d been tossed together by her boss and dangerous circumstances.

Nash planned to pursue her again; it was all over his face.

What the hell was she supposed to do?

“Leave no stone unturned,” Mr. Benedict demanded, his voice low. “I didn’t spend all this time and money to bring your outfit here on a lark. I need results before this situation spirals out of control. Another incident like that poor girl on Christmas Eve, and I’m concerned I won’t be able to hold back the press. They’ll have a field day, never mind the liability…”

“Of course. You have my word. EM Security will do everything possible. Whoever is behind these abductions won’t be able to fart without us knowing.”

“I expect you to keep that promise. And work closely with Ms. Rowe.” Mr. Benedict sighed—a weary, bone-deep exhalation—before he turned toward her once more. “And you, Ms. Rowe, I trust you’ll cooperate with Mr. Scott, whatever he needs?”

His words fed treacherous impulses—of her stripping for him, kneeling for him, spreading her legs for him—like she’d done at least a hundred times in the past. Haisley stamped out the visions before the sparks ignited into a blaze. “I’ll do everything I can to aid in damage control and information flow on the public relations front pertaining to this case, yes.” She risked a glimpse at Nash through her lashes. “In that regard, I’m at your operative’s disposal.”

She chose her words carefully, but if the sharp tic in his jaw was any indication, he got the message. Since they’d been thrown together, she intended to keep their interaction purely professional.

“I’ll devote myself to making this partnership with Ms. Rowe work. That’s a promise.”

Haisley tried not to panic at Nash’s innuendo. He was a shiver-inducing magnetic force of nature—distracting enough from afar. But to have to work with him day in and day out, when the temptation to give in to him would be so strong?

She. Was. Screwed.

No. Innocent lives and her employer’s reputation hung precariously in the balance. She couldn’t allow Nash to be more than a working partner—no matter how deliciously her body burned to rekindle their connection.

The past would haunt them. The truth would only destroy them. Next time he tempted her—and he would—she needed to keep all that in mind.

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