I opened my arms for a hug. He wrapped me up and plucked me off the floor, leaving my feet dangling. We had dated. Barely. Not even long enough for more than a very nice kiss or two before his heroic injury changed the trajectory of his career and personal life.
Lucian, for reasons that remained shrouded in mystery, offered Nolan a job with his firm. A position that made it possible to win back his ex-wife, Callie.
I may not have ended up with a hot U.S. marshal boyfriend, but at least I’d gotten a new friend out of the deal.
“How’s the bullet hole?” My question ended in a gasping giggle when he gave me a tight squeeze before setting me on my feet again.
His answer was interrupted by the sound of multiple throats clearing. I glanced around and spotted Lina, Naomi, and even Petula looking as wide-eyed as Taylor Swift’s front row audience.
“Oh, hey, boss,” Nolan said, taking his time releasing me from his embrace.
Shit.
A familiar blaze of heat swept my back from head to heel. It always made me wonder if the man commanded the powers of actual hellfire.
“So how are you doing?” I asked Nolan again, determined not to address the threat behind me.
“All healed up,” he said.
“Don’t listen to him. The big baby was just whining Friday about the winter wind making his bullet hole ache,” Lina interjected.
“I’m a hero. Heroes are allowed to whine,” Nolan insisted with a smirk.
“How is the soon-to-be missus? I heard you’re eloping,” I said, ignoring the fact that my back was bathed in flames.
Nolan’s grin showed every tooth in his mouth. “She’s great. We’re great. Heading to St. Croix in a few weeks to make things official…again.”
His happiness was palpable.
I squeezed his arm. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you two.”
I really was. Everyone around me was falling in love and getting married and starting—or growing—families. It was making me acutely aware of my current single status.
“Ladies.”
The deep rumble of Lucian’s voice vibrated its way up my spine.
I turned slowly and drank in the godlike hotness of Lucifer himself. It was impossible not to. It was like standing in a room with a great work of art and trying not to memorize every masterful brushstroke.
Lucian was annoyingly attractive in yet another impeccable dark suit with a crisp Oxford and a gray-and-blue-striped tie. I wanted to grab that tie and yank on it until that perfect facade cracked. His thick dark hair waved away from his face in a too-perfect style that begged for someone to mess it up. He was too perfect. It was unnatural.
He scanned me as he always did. And for once, I wondered what he was seeing. In contrast to his perfectly polished exterior, I was wearing snug, army-green cargo pants and a lightweight violet turtleneck. My hair was in a high ponytail, and my lips were a murderous red.
Was it my imagination, or did his gaze linger a little longer than necessary on my mouth?
Why the hell did I feel so alive when we locked gazes?
Was someone going to say something, or were we just going to stare eyeball flames at each other all day?
“I hope you don’t mind that we’re here,” Naomi said, breaking our staring contest with her polite people-pleasing.
I looked away when she greeted him with a friendly hug. Petula, I noticed, was watching me with a calculating expression.
“Lina told us the good news, and we wanted to come see where she’ll be officially working,” Naomi continued as if it were her job to smooth over the awkwardness that happened whenever Lucian and I had the misfortune of being in a room together.
Lina narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be out for the afternoon,” she said to her new, official boss.
“I was,” Lucian said, curtly cutting her off. “My schedule was rearranged due to unforeseen circumstances.” Those deep sterling eyes came back to me.
The man probably had security alert him the moment I stepped in the building. And he’d returned… Why? To make sure I didn’t set his office on fire?
“You’re supposed to alert me to any and all schedule changes when they occur,” Petula reminded him.
I smirked, entertained by the big, powerful egomaniac being chastised by the no-nonsense admin.
“I’ll try to remember that in the future, Petula,” he said dryly.
Lucian was still watching me, and I felt capable of doing nothing but staring back.
Lina snapped her fingers and bobbed her head. “Sooo…”
It looked as though we were back to awkward.
“Find a dress?” Nolan asked her.
Lina nearly sprained an elbow reaching for her phone. “I did. And bridesmaid dresses. What’s Callie wearing for your beach ceremony?”
Nolan reached for his phone, and the two of them put their heads together over wedding dresses.
“You’re giving me regrets about hiring you both,” Lucian said irritably.
Lina looked at Nolan. “I think he’s feeling left out.”
“You’re right,” Nolan agreed.
They sandwiched their grumpy boss between them and began scrolling through their photos, explaining each in excruciating detail.
“You’re fired,” he said as he extricated himself from the huddle. “Enjoy your visit,” he told Naomi, then headed for the glass doors without sparing me another glance.
Lina gave a satisfied sigh. “That was fun.”
“Your guests are cleared for their visit,” Petula said, returning our IDs. She looked disappointed as if she’d been hoping for a security breach.
“Did she just run a background check on us?” I whispered to Nolan.
“Yep. And a credit check.”
“Wow.”
“Enjoy your tour. I’ve gotta go meet an anonymous source about a top secret thing,” he said.
I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. Knowing Lucian’s shadowy business dealings, anything was possible. “Good to see you, Nolan.”
“You too, Blondie. Don’t be a stranger.”
Lina buzzed us through the double glass doors with a key card. I blinked in surprise.
I’d spent years fantasizing that Lucian ran his empire of evil from a dungeon-like lair with sweaty stone walls and a sulfuric scented fog. But this was not that. There was an acre of trendy cubicles inhabited by dozens of employees, none of whom looked like they were here against their will. Employees of all ages, races, and fashion senses congregated at communal tables and in glass-walled conference rooms.
It was busy but not chaotic. Some people were actually laughing.
“Wow,” Naomi said.
“Where are all the instruments of torture?” I asked.
“He keeps those in a separate location. Bloodstains on the carpet and all,” Lina said breezily.
“Wait up, Lina.” A freckled redhead who looked like the perfect combination of dazed and happy came to a screeching halt in front of us. “Petula sent me to see if you’d like any coffee or water or tea.”
Her hair was pulled back from her face in an intricate half updo. She had stickers on her fingernails. And beneath her plaid blazer, she wore a Selena Gomez T-shirt.