“I didn’t say love, I said in love.” Nikolett’s chest and throat were tight with emotion. She spat the next words in accusation. “You got what you wanted—the woman you love, and you don’t have to share her.”
Grigoris rocked back on his heels, glancing away as his jaw worked. She felt like an ass but didn’t apologize.
Finally, he nodded. “Very well, Admiral.”
Nyx appeared behind him with her crutches. She brushed Grigoris’ arm as she slid past him. They shared a brief, speaking glance before Nyx handed Nikolett her crutches.
Nikolett had to swallow down bitter, cruel words to keep from lashing out at them. They were her friends, her coworkers. But right then she hated them, just a little bit.
“Grigoris,” she said once she was sure she wouldn’t say something awful. “Please make arrangements for me to meet with Gus.”
“Gus…” Grigoris grimaced.
“Cookie Guy!” Nyx perked up.
Nyx had been advocating for Nikolett to go out to one of the ruin bars and find a stranger to fuck, even as her husband had kittens about the security risks involved in a one-night stand.
The coffee shop outing where she met Gus by chance had been a logistical and safety nightmare, but Nikolett had insisted for the sake of her sanity. Since then, she’d been sending and receiving flirty texts with Gus. She hadn’t texted him since she came back from the Isle of Man because she hadn’t been in the right headspace to flirt.
She probably wasn’t now either, but with her impending marriage and everything that had happened with Eric, she needed something light and easy. Gus was both those things.
Grigoris’ gaze sharpened. “It’s not safe.”
She crutched up to them, waiting until they both moved out of her way. “I’m not planning to bring him here.”
They fell in step beside her—though far enough away she didn’t take out an ankle with a crutch.
“He’s not a member,” she went on. “Not connected to the society in any way, unless you’ve found out something else about him.”
Nikolett looked over at Grigoris, who shook his head. “No. There’s not much information on him. A lot of it was scrubbed—looks like he had some social media at some point, but it’s gone.”
Something in his tone prompted Nyx to say, “And?”
Grigoris sighed. “Given some of the security companies he’s done work for, that’s not surprising and probably not indicative of anything alarming. We have his work history, know where he’s lived.”
“Then why can’t she fuck him?”
“Nyx…” Grigoris grabbed his wife and kissed her. “You’re a menace,” he said with affection.
Nikolett forced herself to ignore the burning jealousy. “As long as we take precautions, pick the right location, there’s no reason for me not to meet him for a cup of coffee.”
“Or order room service dinner in a hotel suite,” Nyx said. “Better control of the environment than a restaurant.”
Grigoris looked between them, a line between his brows. Eventually he gave a single hard nod. “Fine. I’ll find a way for you to go on a date with your Scotsman.”
“We think we can get him to Paris,” Colum said, adjusting his glasses.
Nikolett lounged in the chair on the other side of Grigoris’ desk. For once, she wasn’t on camera. She was only listening in on the meeting.
“He expressed interest,” Colum went on. “But said that the job wasn’t worth the trip to Paris.”
“What does that mean?” Vicente asked.
“We need to give him another reason to go to Paris,” Hande said. “Our best, maybe only, hope of catching the Spaniard is knowing exactly where he, or his agents, will be.”
“What if he realizes that the job is a trap?” Regina countered. “And he’s playing Colum’s new American friend.”
“Then we go in expecting a trap.” Vicente’s voice was low and dangerous.
