Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
We stand there for a moment, neither of us moving, and the silence stretches. I feel an odd pull in my chest—like part of me wants to say something more personal, but the rest of me knows better. I’m here to protect her, not to blur lines or chase any lingering sparks.
Still, I can’t help thinking, as she turns and heads to the makeshift command center we’ve set up by the laptop, that we’re about to walk a fine line—together. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Isabel Maddox, it’s that she doesn’t back down easily. And neither do I.
One way or another, we’re going to find Morris Rolfe, and we’re going to shut down whoever’s threatening her. But in the meantime, we’ll have to figure out how to live—and work—side by side without igniting a whole different kind of fire.
Chapter 6
Isabel
Spending time with Lincoln in this safe house is both comforting and unnerving. Comforting because I know he’ll do everything in his power to keep me safe; unnerving because I can’t seem to banish the warm flutter in my stomach whenever he’s near. I catch myself sneaking glances at him when he’s not looking—watching the way his dark hair curls slightly at the edges, or how his broad shoulders fill out that worn black T-shirt. He’s so silent and steady, like a fortress, which only makes me want to find out what’s really beneath that tough exterior.
Right now, we’re both hunched over the small dining table, combing through the notes he’s gathered on Morris Rolfe. The morning sunlight filters in through the window, making the wood grain of the table gleam. I can’t help noticing how Lincoln’s hands flex when he’s reading, the way his fingers grip the papers like he’s ready to confront them if they dare contradict him. Everything about him radiates control—even his voice, deep and measured, has a deliberate softness that sends a prickle of heat down my spine.
I drag my gaze back to the laptop and exhale. “Nothing new from my contact in Chicago. But she did say she might have a lead in Saint Pierce—a tip that Rolfe was spotted there recently.”
Lincoln lifts his gaze from the notes. “Saint Pierce? Now I think he might really be the man after you,” he says quietly. His brown eyes meet mine, and for a split second, I forget how to breathe.
I snap myself out of it. “If he’s in Saint Pierce, we can get there pretty fast.” I lean forward, pressing the arrow key on my laptop. “She says there’s an adult club called Club Greed, some high-end club. Apparently Rolfe’s been seen coming and going.”
Lincoln’s expression darkens. “Club Greed?” he repeats, shaking his head. “Sounds classy. Doesn’t Dean run their security?”
“Yes, but I’ve never been there.” Despite myself, I grin. “I’ve heard rumors about it. It’s more of a private, members-only place—one that caters to clients who want to remain… anonymous.”
His jaw tightens. “We can’t just walk in there, guns blazing. We need a plan.”
I cross my arms over my chest, feeling a flicker of excitement. “Well, obviously. But we should go see if the rumors are true—if Rolfe is there, we might catch him in the act of doing whatever shady deal he’s got going on.”
Lincoln shifts in his seat, staring me down with that calm, controlled intensity I’m starting to recognize as his default. “We can scope it out. Undercover. But we do this carefully, Isabel.”
“Carefully,” I repeat, rolling my eyes a bit. “Always so cautious.”
He levels me with a look that quickens my pulse. “This is exactly why I have to remind you. You’re all go, go, go… and that’s going to get you in trouble one day.”
My retort catches in my throat. He’s not entirely wrong—I do tend to rush in. But I’m not about to admit that to him. Instead, I shrug. “Let’s just say we complement each other’s strengths.”
Something flickers in his gaze, something warm that makes me feel like maybe I’ve stepped a little closer to the real Lincoln. “Right,” he says, voice a fraction softer. “So how do you want to handle Club Greed?”
I drag the laptop closer, skimming through the details. “If it’s members-only, we might need fake IDs or an invite from someone on the inside. But we won’t know for sure until we scope it out. I’d prefer to go in as ourselves, but keep a low profile. Maybe pretend to be a couple out for a wild night.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You think we can pass as a couple?”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re hot enough to get in.” The words slip out before I can stop them. Heat flares in my cheeks, and I quickly add, “I mean, you’ve got that stoic, brooding vibe going on. I’m sure it’ll play well in a place like that.”