I text Thayer.
Me:
Anything?
Thayer:
Was just about to text you. Uncovered a message from Lyam. Says he’s fine, but to do what they say. Will you be able to get into The Underground? You know it’s hard to get in there.
I look back at the surveillance footage.
Me:
I’ll get in there.
My brother Lyam can hold his own. Whoever took him knows that if they hurt him, there will be hell to pay. Bloodshed. They’re holding him to get what they want.
They think I’m a man who can be bargained with and bribed.
Tomorrow, I’ll get whatever information I can from Jean-Pierre.
Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to make Nicolette an offer she can’t refuse.
I awake early the next morning and shake off the memory of my dreams featuring every single imagined fantasy I had the night before involving Nicolette.
I pad to the kitchen and start the coffee when the door to my bedroom creaks open.
“Good morn—oh.”
I turn to see Nicolette in the doorway, wrapped in a thin ivory robe that hits just above her knees.
I’m standing in the kitchenette barefoot and bare-chested. I didn’t expect she’d be up so soon.
Early bird, then.
“Sorry about that.” My voice is all groggy with sleep as I walk to the living room and turn my back so she doesn’t see the damn erection I woke with. I grab my tee and jeans and quickly tug them on.
“It’s your home,” she says, but when I turn back to her, she’s beet red.
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean to parade around half naked.”
Good lord, I love the way her cheeks flush. “Coffee?”
It’s now or never. I’ve given her a little time to settle in, and now I push to make this happen. If she denies me, we go on to plan B, but if she doesn’t…
“Yes, please. I love the way you make coffee here.”
“They say espresso puts hair on your chest.”
“Oh, God, I hope not.”
I give her a half smile. I already know she takes her coffee sweet, four sugars with cream, but she can’t know I know that.
“How do you take your coffee?”
“Four sugars with cream.”
I pour her a cup and fix it for her, then pour myself a cup. “Nicolette, this is awkward, but I have a question for you,” I say, hoping she buys my sheepish tone.
