East Bound Nana Malone (best ereader for students .TXT) 📖

"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