Page 31 of Driven By Impulse

“Leone…” It came out more like a groan.

“I know… I just…” She peeked over the balcony railing. “Jinx.”

Niccolo shook his head. “What?”

“Your guy is down there.” Hanna pointed to the ground with her hand that wasn’t currently wrapped in his hair.

“Why on earth would Jinx be down there?”

Nicco followed her gaze, and sure as shit, Jinx was several stories down on the ground, waving his arms.

“We have to go,” he managed, stepping back from Hanna with great difficulty.

She was behind him as they quickly made their way down the hall and into the main party.

He had let things get out of hand. He had let them become distracted from the mission. And it wasn’t going to happen again, not on his watch, even though he wanted so much more than a kiss from Sheriff Hanna Van Rijn.

Chapter Twelve

Hanna’s breath was coming in hard pants, and it had nothing to do with the sprint down the hallway. Of course, worry raced up her spine—but they hadn’t gotten any warnings on their comms, or…

She stopped short, thrusting her hand to Nicco’s chest.

“The comms.”

“What about them?” he asked.

Hanna tried to catch her breath before they entered the party, and she squared her shoulders and whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “Nothing has come over the comms since we walked inside.”

Nicco stiffened. “Oh shit, you’re right.”

Hanna nodded. “He must have some kind of jammer. Which means Ash is at this party with no backup and we don’t have any help to get into Iverson’s office.”

“We need to find him.” Nicco’s words were urgent and his tone dark and commanding. It wasn’t the same kind of command as before, the one that had nearly made her commit immortal sin in the moonlight, but the command of a captain, a man accustomed to giving orders and being heard. A leader.

They walked back into the party, steady and calm, though Hanna’s heart was beating so loudly she was sure they could hear it across the dance floor.

Across the dance floor where…

Ash was standing in his tuxedo.

Thank fuck.

A swell of relief burst through her body, so acute Hanna almost felt her knees buckle under her. Ash hadn’t been back to Bitterroot in a long, long time, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be recognized, and it definitely didn’t mean he wouldn’t be in danger.

“Go dance with him,” Nicco muttered. “We need to tell him about the comms.”

Hanna nodded and strode confidently across the dance floor, trying to take stock of the players.

Iverson and Ralston were nowhere to be seen.

Which could have been for the better, but Hanna knew by now that the two men got up to their share of trouble when they thought no one was watching.

“Would it be bold of me to offer you this dance?”

She stepped up to Ash’s side, trying to ignore how incredibly handsome he looked in his tuxedo. He was a man built for leather jackets and heavy riding boots, for the swell of wind blowing back his hair on open roads. But all cleaned up and he was a dangerous kind of beauty, the kind that made women believe in fairytales. Even if she could see the tendrils of ink poking out of his collar.

“It would be bold,” he said. “But I wouldn’t say no.”