B. G. McCarthy - A Thief At Heart

by A Thief At Heart (lit)

  Riley wasn’t quite sure how that sat with the girl, but she’d doubtlessly grown up expecting that her family would play a big part in choosing her mate. People could tell themselves that even the wealthy folks had changed with the times, but as far as Riley could see, the opposite might just be true. Mary had given Belinda a little time to sow her oats and now she had to settle down.

  Riley hadn’t really gotten to know Belinda in a year, but she’d formed some opinions. If they lived in California rather than British Columbia, Belinda would be the consummate Valley girl.

  Riley lifted up on her sore toes a little, abruptly catching sight of a face she knew well. Craig Alexander was here! She hadn’t seen Craig in a while. He’d been working nonstop, holding two jobs--one as an actor in locally shot films and the other as a real estate agent. He’d just recently sold the Wellman mansion to some famous American actress whose two young sons were hockey mad.

  Riley looked back over her shoulder and made eye-contact with Mary, who was busy chatting with some of her friends. The older woman gave Riley a smile and a nod, silent code that she could go off on her own.

  Craig finally noticed her, his too-handsome face becoming animated as he approached. His gym-honed arms were spread open for a big bear hug. It was hard to believe that the fabulous Craig Alexander had once been a displaced kid like herself. They’d met in Aggie Richard’s foster home.

  Now instead of performing Shakespeare for pedestrians on Granville Street Mall to earn a few bucks for a meal, Craig was attending galas and dressed in an impeccable Armani tux. He now had his golden brown hair--formerly spiked, green-tinted and arguably pest-ridden--styled at Pink Lime. He bought his clothes on Robson at the trendiest boutiques. He looked gorgeous. Craig was gorgeous, successful and more like a brother to her than anything else. Too damned bad.

  “Riley! Hi!” He gave her a resounding kiss on the mouth, her first mouth-to-mouth kiss from a man in ages. She found it curiously unsatisfying, the sensual equivalent of tofu.

  “Jane. Call me Jane in public, Craig.”

  “Sorry. I forgot about that. How are you, Ja-a-a-ne? Aggie told me you were coming here tonight. I hoped I’d see you.”

  “How does Aggie remember what we’re all doing?” Prim and proper Jane--Riley’s alter-ego--laughed her soft, discreet laugh.

  “She has this continuous tape loop in her head. Are you, Annika and Rory still planning the reunion?” he asked.

  Riley nodded. “It’s only a month away. We’ve found about fifty foster kids so far, including you, the regular group and me--everyone who still sees Aggie. Don’t know if that’s good considering there were well over a hundred of us through the years.”

  Riley frowned, remembering a phone call from last night. Rory had demanded to know about one missing foster kid who had departed long before they arrived at Aggie’s. Riley had deliberately excluded his name from the list. The other girls knew of him because they’d seen his picture in Aggie’s memory books. She and Rory had quite a heated discussion about the reasons for Riley’s omission. Riley wouldn’t admit a thing. Let them look for Robin Butler. Only the devil knew where he was.

  Craig looped arms with her. “That party should be a wild time if I know Rory. So, how was the holiday you were supposed to take?”

  “Didn’t go. Mary hasn’t been feeling that well lately. She needs me. I’ll find the time eventually.”

  “Well, if I know you, I know exactly how you’ll spend the time, and it wouldn’t be lounging on the beach in Greece. Right?”

  She shrugged. “Right. I couldn’t afford that anyway.”

  Craig sighed. “If your half-sister was anywhere to be found, Riley, you’d probably have found her by now.”

  Maybe he was right, Riley thought with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Maybe it was time to give it up. Grace would be busy with a life of her own. She probably wouldn’t be pleased to have her half sister poking her nose into her business.

  “Have you seen that new rich dude from back East everyone is talking about?” Craig craned his elegant neck to look around the room as he led her around the outskirts of the dance floor.

  “Rich dude? There are hundreds of rich men here. I didn’t have time to notice any individual ones yet. What’s this paragon of manhood look like?” she asked, curious.

  “This bad boy is crunk.”

  “Crunk?” she repeated.

  “It means sexy. What rock have you been living under? He’s ruggedly handsome, but debonair, to quote a cliché. He’s giving me a run for my money. My actor stories and my boyish charm used to be all I needed to get the chicks. This guy comes along and I’m yesterday’s news. And I was hoping to get laid tonight.”

  Riley staggered in mock horror. “Well, don’t look at me for that,” she teased.

  “I’m hoping he’s light in the loafers. Then there might be some poor disillusioned women left in his wake for me.”

  Riley laughed. “You’re a sicko, Craig Armstrong.”

  “I know. Want a glass of champagne?” he asked.

  “I don’t drink when I’m working.”

  He gave her a pitying look. “You do need a holiday.”

  “You sound like a broken record. I promise I’m going to go soon. I’ve saved an impressive sum of money this year. This job is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Craig gave her a long, hard look.

  “Don’t say it, Craig. Now that Mary knows me and trusts me, I don’t think my past is a huge deal. Everything is going to be just fine--” She broke off, not feeling up to discussing things she’d rehashed over and over with Craig. He knew better than anyone what she felt like, what she faced in her life. “Speaking of Mary, I really have to get back. I should go to the restroom, too. Hope it isn’t as busy as the last time I tried.”

  “There’s a small private restroom down in the back servant’s hall, unless you want to use the big one and pick up the latest gossip.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’m trying to get a lead on who’s up for this part of a hockey player in that new Jack Travis film. The casting director for the movie’s here--”

  “The back hall washroom sounds great to me. And I’m not spying on casting agents for you,” she said quickly. She kissed Craig on the cheek. “Call me soon. Okay? We’ll go see Aggie together.”

  “Take that holiday time, kid. Maybe you can just stay with me at my loft. Veg out for a week.”

  “I’d keep that in mind, but last time I lived with you there were far too many co-ed slumber parties.”

  “Okay. I’ll only have one girl over at a time.”

  “You’re disgusting,” she said with a smile. She watched him walk away, smirking as she noted the female heads that turned as he passed.

  She would visit the washroom, then return directly to Mary. Despite their good relationship, Mary expected the hired help to know their place. She wasn’t paying Riley to party.

  Riley slipped her glasses from her bag, perched them on her nose and made her way to the private washroom at the end of the dimly lit hall. In the bathroom Riley saw to her most immediate need, washed her hands and fixed her hair, and frowning at her reflection, returned her small tortoiseshell specs to her bag. She really ought to get laser eye surgery or quit being so vain. She’d had a lazy eye and severe astigmatism since she was little and had passed the better part of her life in a blur. She walked out the door and smack into Todd Connors.

  Riley felt a little quiver of revulsion. The young man was handsome and well-dressed, but Riley didn’t trust him. He was often drunk or hung-over. She had the feeling he was dabbling in worse than drink lately.

  Todd’s smallish eyes went directly to her breasts as his full lips drew up in a familiar leer. His face was going to fat; there was a telltale crease where a second chin was starting. “Well, if it isn’t the gorgeous Miss Turner,” he drawled.

  Riley bit back a smart retort and attempted to pass. Todd moved forward, forcing her to step further back into an alcove
under the stairs. She knew that Todd was basically harmless and she could defend herself if the need arose. She’d dealt with men who thought she was dying for their sexual attentions half of her life. He’d never pushed it this far before, however, and she had a bad gut feeling about this.

  “Please let me by,” Riley said.

  “Where’s my grandmother?” Todd asked.

  “She’d be with her friends, I assume. I was just going back to check on her.”

  “How about a dance, Jane?” He made a move with his hips like he was hoping to boogie there in the hall.

  “My dance card’s all full, thanks.”

  Todd made a tsking sound with his tongue. He ran a moist, manicured finger down the inside of her arm setting off alarm bells in Riley’s head. She had to suppress a full-body cringe and the urge to shove him hard. “Why do we keep fighting it, Jane?”

  Riley rolled her eyes. Did this creepy boy actually think she’d find him attractive? The lapels of his tux were askew and there were beads of sweat at his temples. Expensive cologne applied with a heavy touch and the sour reek of booze wafted from his person.

  “I have to go--”

  “Come on, Jane, I have something important to ask you.”

  “I don’t have the time--”

  “A friend of mine who’s here tonight thinks he knows you. Says you worked at the Purple Door as an exotic dancer. He swears it was you. Carl says you have a little birthmark on your lower back shaped like a pair of lips puckered for a kiss.” His eyes glittered with wickedness. “Was that you dancing naked at the Purple Door, Jane?”

  Riley swallowed hard. “Your friend is quite mistaken.”

  “I don’t know about that. Carl’s got a great memory for the ladies.”

  Riley steeled her spine. “I’m leaving now. Get out of my way.”

  “I think we ought to talk about this, Jane. After all, you are an employee of my family’s and I’d hate to see anyone embarrassed. Especially dear, old Granny. Maybe we could make a bit of a deal here: a mutually satisfying deal.”

  “No one will be embarrassed on my account.” As she tried to move past him once more he suddenly took her wrist in a sweaty grasp and pressed her against the wall.

  “Don’t you know how much you turn me on, Jane? Even with that serious expression and those boring pantsuits and those little glasses you wear most of the time. I know you’re hot, Jane. I know you want what I can give you. Let me see that little birthmark.” He still had a painful hold of her wrist. She tried to jerk it back, but he suddenly made the shocking move of placing Riley’s open palm over his privates.

  It was almost pathetic. Todd, she could not help but notice, was really rather inadequately endowed. Riley had to bite her cheeks to stop herself from laughing. That lapse only lasted a second before her instincts kicked into high gear.

  “Come on, baby. I know there’s a closet around here where we can be alone. Or maybe we’ll ditch this party and get a room at the Mandarin.” He pressed his wet, pulpy lips against the hammering pulse in her neck.

  Riley moved her hand a bit, making Todd groan in pleasure. Then he gasped. His bleary eyes widened as understanding took hold. Riley squeezed as hard as she could and twisted her wrist. Todd’s face went as pale as his shirt and he could barely croak out a protest.

  “Let go of my wrist now, Todd.”

  He complied quickly. Releasing her hand, she pushed him away in disgust. “You have one warning. If you ever try anything like this with me again I’ll present them to you on a platter at Sunday dinner with Granny. Got me, Todd? I don’t care if I lose my job.”

  Todd nodded, slumping against the wall, tears of pain slipping down his flushed cheeks.

  “I don’t like you, Todd. You’re a spoiled little rich boy. Your grandma should stop paying your way in life. And if I was an exotic dancer at one time, that’s my own bloody business.” With that said, Riley stepped away from him.

  He muttered a nasty name for her.

  With aplomb she didn’t feel, Riley said, “And proud of it. Get away from me, you big baby. Go find your creepy little friends.”

  He shuffled past her, limping like Hop-Along-Cassidy after too long in the saddle. Double damn him. She couldn’t even find a reason to feel satisfied. “Little jerk,” she muttered at his back, steeling herself to go back to the ballroom. And she’d been looking forward to the midnight supper after the auction; now he’d destroyed her appetite. Her knees were quivering. Her eyes filled with tears and her whole body burned with rage.

  Well, that was it, she thought. Game over. She’d have to do something now, tell Mary the truth about herself--that she, Riley Jane Turner, was one step down from trailer trash. Todd would see to that. This perfect work situation was blown to hell. She uttered another ugly word fitting for a trailer trash princess.

  “Do you do that to all the men or just the little jerks?” asked a low, male voice from directly behind her shoulder. He was standing so close she could feel his body heat. Riley drew in an unsettled breath, discerning the faint scent of bergamot.

  She ought to feel threatened, but for some reason she didn’t. There was something about that canyon-deep voice that stirred a buried memory. It was as if she’d felt that same low-pitched voice stirring the hair over her ear. She imagined a phantom arm wrapping possessively round her waist, a slightly stubbly jaw nuzzling her neck. She wanted to lean back against a wide, solid, chest, feel his heart beating against her back in time to the rapid pulse of her own.

  How weird.

  Riley was almost afraid to turn around. She wanted to walk quickly away but she was still trapped in the alcove under the stairs. Telling herself she was an idiot, Riley turned her head slightly.

  Holy cow!

  The fantasy that had popped into her head a few seconds before hardly did justice to reality. Her skin prickled in scalp to toe goosebumps. She told herself it was a residual effect from the nasty little encounter with Todd. There was no way one simple look at a man--albeit quite a starkly sensual looking man--could demolish what was left of her wits.

  Riley looked up into darkest eyes she’d ever seen, positioned several inches above hers. Those eyes were fringed with sexy, thick eyelashes and dark, devilish looking brows.

  The cut of his tux was simply perfection, everything black, as if he’d been composed out of steel and shadows. Even the shirt beneath his expensive tux was ultra-fine black silk. Riley refused to look at the hand that grasped the sloping wall a little above her shoulder.

  If that hand was as big and sexy and masculine as the rest of this guy, she might just melt into a puddle. Her captivation with beautiful male hands had started with the first boy she’d ever given herself to, the one with whom she’d fancied herself in love...

  That skanky rat in a boy suit, Robin Butler.

  Two

  Lord! Robin Butler?

  But Robbie’s eyes had been blue, the same sweet, dreamy blue of Easter eggs or cotton candy or soft summer skies; too gentle a color for such a cynical, defiant boy. This man was certainly not her Robbie--

  Her Robbie! What a joke. He’d never been her anything. Robin Butler had never been anything but trouble. She hadn’t given that incorrigible smooth operator a moment’s thought in years. Not until the talk of the foster home reunion came up.

  She gave herself the mental equivalent of a shake for intestinal fortitude. No woman, not even a tough one like her, really forgot getting her poor, untried heart stomped for the first time.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her. He moved a little closer to her. He smelled delicious, but unconventional, like imported cologne applied sparingly, mingling with good old Head and Shoulders shampoo. She wondered about that because his hair was so clean and shiny, as black as night.

  “Yes... I’m okay... thanks.” She cleared her thick throat. “I’m just fine.”

  “You seem a little overwhelmed. Want me to go after him? Call security? Or was it a lover’s spat?”

  “A lover
’s spat?” Riley squawked, feeling her face flame. “No. It was nothing of the kind.”

  “So, he was just coming on to you? Maybe security will--”

  “No security, thanks. Security would be most tolerant of Todd’s shortcomings since his family’s spearheading this charity evening. They’d likely throw me out first.”

  One corner of the man’s lips lifted in a half-smile. He had an awesome mouth. His lower lip was lush, but firm, surrounded by a hint of shadow that belied his recent shave. His teeth were straight, white perfection. Like a movie star’s. That fleeting smile had given his face a surprisingly sweet aspect that was an exquisite counterpoint to the aloofness the stark black tux conveyed.

  His easy smile made her think of Robbie again.

  Robbie’s smile had been adorable, but his teeth had been slightly crooked, one of the front teeth broken straight across, the other badly chipped. His stepfather had hit him in the mouth one too many times, so had been the rumor. He’d worn the broken teeth like a badge, like that ever-present Axel Rose blue bandana and sunglasses that had defined him as a bad boy.

  “Do you know Todd Connors and his shortcomings well?”

  Riley snapped out of her reverie about Robin. “I wouldn’t say that, but I work for his family.”

  “At one of the car dealerships?” he asked.

  The spin of the conversation was beginning to make her uncomfortable. It was dangerous to talk to strangers. And this stranger had trouble written all over him, she told herself firmly. Just like Robbie Butler, only a different class of trouble.

  Riley just wished she could put on her glasses. In a blur he looked like a soft-focus dream of the man she hadn’t found yet, rarely put hope into finding.

  He had a shallow dent in his firm chin. There was a thin white scar on the bridge of his nose. It had to have been broken badly at one time, maybe even a few times, but it was a pleasing nose all the same. Bold. It gave him a reckless allure, made a woman wonder what sort of macho things he’d done to hurt it.

  “Did I hear him call you Jane?”

  She frowned at him, her tone brassy. “I think you heard too much.”