by Nana Malone
I glanced at Bryna, and my brows furrowed. "He's kidding, right?"
She shook her head. "Nope, he's not kidding at all. He's been looking forward to this for two days."
I glanced at Ben and Bridge, and both were ready. I could tell by the set in their jaws.
"Well, let's do it then."
Ben's voice was low when he spoke. "Are you sure?"
"No, not at all. But this is the best chance we're going to get. And Bryna, for the love of God, if you can get Nyla out of there..."
"I'm on it. I like her a lot. I don't want the Jamesons getting their hooks in her."
Jesus Christ, I certainly hoped not. But I knew I had no control over the situation. And that scared me most of all.
Bridge clapped his hands together. "Into the belly of the beast we go."
When we arrived, the party was in full swing. Lots of tuxedos, thigh-high slits, and dazzling jewels. Lucas was probably in heaven.
I, on the other hand, was tense and tight. As soon as we entered, Garreth approached me. "I have an artist for you, mate."
He knew we weren't mates. Part of me wondered if he was doing that on purpose, trying to push, trying to nudge that he knew what we were up to. Did he know what was happening? Maybe, maybe not. I had no idea. But I pressed palms, met people, and talked art like it mattered.
For thirty minutes, I did everything I was supposed to do. I followed all of the rules.
And then it was showtime.
The lights went out and nothing went according to plan.
Nyla
Nothing was going according to plan. I was stuck next to Lord Jameson all night.
For the last hour, I’d had to watch him do little more than sip champagne and bluster.
Amelia though, Amelia got to be in on the plan.
Jameson had stayed close. Every time I had my phone out, he asked me who I was texting, what was happening with the plan to protect his assets.
I couldn't even talk to East.
Across the room, I saw when Lucas entered.
And I knew that somebody was going to come out without a brooch, or a watch, or a phone, or a necklace. He stole with such gleeful abandon.
Next to him, Bryna looked stunning. Her brunette hair was coiled on top of her head. Her elegant black shift gown showed her sun-kissed shoulders and long lean legs. I had worn black too, but my dress was a simple halter with slits up the legs so I could run if necessary.
Also, I kept weapons strapped to my garter.
Yes, I was every action movie cliché.
"Ms. Kinkade you don't look like you're enjoying yourself."
"It’s Agent Kincade, and of course I'm enjoying myself, sir. But if you'll just excuse me, I'm going to check in with my team and make sure nothing's amiss."
He put a hand on my elbow and guided me away from the door toward the bar. "No, Agent Kinkade, why don't you have a drink?"
I sighed. "Lord Jameson, is there a reason you don't want me to check on my team?"
"No. It's just that when my son Garreth told me that you were having a look around at the artwork last week, I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing looking around my estate."
"Sir, I'm not sure what your son told you. I got turned around while looking for the loo."
He smiled at me then. "Yes, that's what he said you said. And the cameras around the grounds did point to that, and it didn’t seem you were acting particularly suspicious."
"Okay then."
"But I just want to see the mettle of you because Garreth seems quite taken with you, actually. I’d like to get to know you better."
I tried to choose my words carefully so as not to overtly insult his son. "Well, I've only met him twice. I don't know him that well."
"Interesting."
"Just so you know I didn't wander.”
“I’m also curious. Did you ever find that man that you were looking for? The one you told me had gone missing in Italy?"
"No. It was just a curiosity."
"Interesting. It's a curiosity no one else has ever brought up. You work for him, don’t you?"
My eyes went wide. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
"You work for Theroux. I can tell."
"Sir." I glanced down at his hand that was gripping my elbow far too tightly. "Please release me."
"I know he's coming for me."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm Agent Nyla Kinkade. I work for Interpol. My father is Roger Kinkade. He is Interpol's Section Chief. I was assigned to his work detail."
He searched my gaze, as if trying to determine if I was being truthful. Then he released me. "Sorry, my dear. You see, when you get to my age, you tend to have a lot of enemies. And my number one enemy is coming after me."
"Uh, who's your enemy sir? I'm very confused."
"A thief."
I played dumb. "Henry Warlow?"
"No, Francois Theroux."
"I don't understand, Lord Jameson. What does Francois Theroux have to do with Henry Warlow?"
His gaze searched mine again, and I kept my mask up, acting confused. It was better that way.
He sighed. "Francois Theroux is the most successful thief in the world. You're telling me you don't know him?"
"Why would I?"
He stepped back a bit. "I'm sorry. It's just at my age, you can get paranoid. Your father shares my concerns though."
"Yes, I am aware of Theroux. My father's been after him a long time."
"Yes. He has. I knew he was the right man for the job tonight."
"Well, if I was with my team, we'd probably be more successful."
"No, you're not joining your team. You're staying right by my side."
"If you say so."
At that instant, the lights went out.
My heart leapt. Jesus Christ, that was East. It was starting.
Someone reached for me, and I assumed it was Jameson, so I deftly avoided him and then rolled to the ground so he couldn’t grab me again.
There was pandemonium in the ballroom. People started to scream, glasses were dropped, and the crowd of guests jostled against one another as they waited for the generators to turn on.
I hoped to God Amelia had managed to cut the line, and I prayed to God that East was as fast as he said he was.
I heard Jameson's voice. "Agent Kinkade."
Luckily for me, Denning and the team called for all agents.
"Sorry, Lord Jameson. I must go." The walkie-talkie was loud enough that he heard it.
All agents were being called to the south entrance.
I used my phone’s flashlight app like many others in the ballroom had started to do and made my way as quickly as I could and prayed that East had already gotten what he needed.
Please, please, please, please, please, please. On my way to the south entrance, I saw something wrong. A shadow. Was it East? But instead of running out the exit toward the gardens, he was running toward the private quarters.
Jesus Christ, what the hell had gone wrong? There was one office down that way, and the rest were private suites where both of the Jamesons stayed.
Lord Jameson's wife, Tiffany, had been present tonight. She'd only spoken a few words though, seemingly content to let her husband and son have the spotlight.
What was East doing?
I didn't dare call out his name, but I followed him as quickly as I could, taking off my shoes so I could run faster.
In my earpiece, I could hear the team.
Bridge asked, “For the love of God, what has gone wrong?”
Where was East going?
On my walkie, I could hear Denning demanding for everyone to check in.
Then my phone went off and it was Amelia texting. Where are you? Denning wants to know.
Nyla: I'm coming. Jameson held me back.
Amelia: Denning suspicious. Wants to know why you aren't where you're supposed to be.
Nyla: He knows Jameson had me.
My phone r
ang, and Amelia said, "You better get down here."
"Jameson held me up. But East is going the wrong way."
Amelia cursed under her breath. "Get your arse down here."
"I have to make sure he's okay."
"Ny, this isn't the time."
"I know. But you know he wouldn't have broken protocol unless there was a good reason."
"Jesus fuck. Oh God, make it fast. I think Denning's coming your way. He's sending agents to spread out to look for you."
"Oh, fuck me."
"Hurry up and get East the fuck out of there."
"Yeah, I’m on it."
I ran out in the hall, made a left, and followed East into the secondary office. "What the fuck are you doing?"
He whipped around with a gun trained on my chest, and I staggered back. In the moment, even with his mask down, he looked every bit the killer.
"East it's me."
He sighed and pulled his mask up a little. "Jesus, why are you chasing me?"
"You're going the wrong way, and Interpol agents are coming for you right now.”
“His laptop wasn’t in there. This is a private office, and I thought I might find it in here."
My gut clenched. "Oh my God, we're all going to die."
He laughed. He had his little set of tools out and was already typing something on the keys. And then some little tablet looking thing next to the computer was lit red, red, red and then started glowing green in a circle, lighting up section by section.
"This will just take a minute."
I glanced outside. "Can you get out this way?"
East glanced down. "I have exit routes in every window and door in this place. Don't worry."
"I am worried."
He put his gun away and stalked over to me. "That's going to take a second. But God, can I just say you look beautiful?"
"Thanks. But maybe we don't worry about compliments right now."
He didn't seem to care. He leaned forward and kissed me. Deep. "God, there's something about adrenaline and you and kissing. Want to roll around on the grass with me later?"
I laughed. "No. Focus."
That's when I heard it. A walkie-talkie in the hallway. Fuck me. They were already here.
"You have to go."
With a curse, he planted another quick kiss on my lips and released me. Then he went to the window and opened it. He attached something to the outside. What the hell was that? A grappling hook?
Was he going to rappel down? Jesus. Okay, okay it was only two stories. He'd be fine. But why did he have that equipment? I had all kinds of questions for him.
The little device on the table turned completely green, and footsteps drew closer.
"East, you have to go right now."
He frowned at the door. "If they find you in here, they'll know the laptop was tampered with. I can't just leave you here."
"East, you don't have a choice. I’ll just say that we tussled and you escaped."
He frowned. "You don't look like you were in a fight, Nyla."
"Okay." I took a couple pins out of my hair and shook it out. Then I shimmied until part of the strap on my dress tore just a little. “See, I look like I’ve been in a scuffle. East, come on,” I begged him. “You have to go.”
He was at the window. Hook ready. And then he did something I didn’t expect. He raised his gun. “Ny, I’m sorry.”
"What are you doing?"
"Giving you a way out."
And then with a loud crack and searing fire that felt like a red-hot poker, East Hale shot me.
To be continued in The Fall of East …
Thank you for reading EAST BOUND, Book 2 in the HEAR NO EVIL TRILOGY.
* * *
East Hale never wanted to shoot the woman he loved. But these things happen when you need to protect the ones you love. With danger closing in all around them, they’ll need to work together to bring down their enemies if they’re to have their happily ever after.
* * *
READ The stunning conclusion in The Fall of East now!
* * *
You can also read Nathan and Sophie’s story right now! Find out what happens when a seductive, jaded playboy with a filthy mouth meets his uptight neighbor and they strike a little ex payback bargain.
One-click MR. DIRTY now!
“Mr. Dirty is a fun and flirty romance with complex characters and a great storyline." - Amazon Reviewer
Can’t get enough billionaires? Meet a cocky, billionaire prince that goes undercover in Cheeky Royal! He’s a prince with a secret to protect. The last distraction he can afford is his gorgeous as sin new neighbor.
His secrets could get them killed, but still, he can’t stay away…
Read Cheeky Royal now!
Turn the page for an excerpt from Cheeky Royal…
UPCOMING BOOKS
* * *
The Fall of East
Royal Line
To Catch a Thief
Also from Nana Malone
Cheeky Royal
“You make a really good model. I’m sure dozens of artists have volunteered to paint you before.”
He shook his head. “Not that I can recall. Why? Are you offering?”
* * *
I grinned. “I usually do nudes.” Why did I say that? It wasn’t true. Because you’re hoping he’ll volunteer as tribute.
* * *
He shrugged then reached behind his back and pulled his shirt up, tugged it free, and tossed it aside. “How is this for nude?”
* * *
Fuck. Me. I stared for a moment, mouth open and looking like an idiot. Then, well, I snapped a picture. Okay fine, I snapped several. “Uh, that’s a start.”
* * *
He ran a hand through his hair and tussled it, so I snapped several of that. These were romance-cover gold. Getting into it, he started posing for me, making silly faces. I got closer to him, snapping more close-ups of his face. That incredible face.
* * *
Then suddenly he went deadly serious again, the intensity in his eyes going harder somehow, sharper. Like a razor. “You look nervous. I thought you said you were used to nudes.”
* * *
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Yeah, at school whenever we had a model, they were always nude. I got used to it.”
* * *
He narrowed his gaze. “Are you sure about that?”
Shit. He could tell. “Yeah, I am. It’s just a human form. Male. Female. No big deal.”
* * *
His lopsided grin flashed, and my stomach flipped. Stupid traitorous body…and damn him for being so damn good looking. I tried to keep the lens centered on his face, but I had to get several of his abs, for you know…research.
But when his hand rubbed over his stomach and then slid to the button on his jeans, I gasped, “What are you doing?”
“Well, you said you were used doing nudes. Will that make you more comfortable as a photographer?”
* * *
I swallowed again, unable to answer, wanting to know what he was doing, how far he would go. And how far would I go?
* * *
The button popped, and I swallowed the sawdust in my mouth. I snapped a picture of his hands.
* * *
Well yeah, and his abs. So sue me. He popped another button, giving me a hint of the forbidden thing I couldn’t have. I kept snapping away. We were locked in this odd, intimate game of chicken. I swung the lens up to capture his face. His gaze was slightly hooded. His lips parted…turned on. I stepped back a step to capture all of him. His jeans loose, his feet bare. Sitting on the stool, leaning back slightly and giving me the sex face, because that’s what it was—God’s honest truth—the sex face. And I was a total goner.
* * *
“You’re not taking pictures, Len.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
* * *
“Oh, sorry.” I snapped several in succession. Full body shots, face shots, torso shots. Ther
e were several torso shots. I wanted to fully capture what was happening.
He unbuttoned another button, taunting me, tantalizing me. Then he reached into his jeans, and my gaze snapped to meet his. I wanted to say something. Intervene in some way…help maybe…ask him what he was doing. But I couldn’t. We were locked in a game that I couldn’t break free from. Now I wanted more. I wanted to know just how far he would go.
* * *
Would he go nude? Or would he stay in this half-undressed state, teasing me, tempting me to do the thing that I shouldn’t do?
* * *
I snapped more photos, but this time I was close. I was looking down on him with the camera, angling so I could see his perfectly sculpted abs as they flexed. His hand was inside his jeans. From the bulge, I knew he was touching himself. And then I snapped my gaze up to his face.
Sebastian licked his lip, and I captured the moment that tongue met flesh.
* * *
Heat flooded my body, and I pressed my thighs together to abate the ache. At that point, I was just snapping photos, completely in the zone, wanting to see what he might do next.