How to Steal a Thief’s Heart

by Wolf, Bree

  “What will you do, little mouse?” he asked as though to prove her point. His dark gaze held hers as he ventured closer, now barely an arm’s length away from her.

  “Stop calling me that!” Caroline snapped, dimly aware that she was focusing on the least important problem at hand. It was also the one most easily solved.

  Or at least reacted to.

  Towering over her, the masked man held her gaze, the smile finally gone from his lips. “You should not have gone out on your own.”

  Caroline gritted her teeth. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  He nodded as though he knew what had called her out into the night. “Whether you had a choice or not does not matter,” he told her as though she did not know. “Everything we do has consequences.”

  Caroline felt the sudden need to slap him for this kind of condescension. “How dare you—?”

  Her voice broke off when the two men from the street came sauntering into the alley, their voices echoing off the buildings around them. “Hey, pal, care to share the lady?”

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen one so fine,” the other remarked on a burp.

  Caroline flinched as though they’d slapped her. Panic, as well as the need to empty her stomach, shot through her and she found her gaze move to the one man who had thus far done nothing worse than irritate her.

  Perhaps…

  “Will you let me help you?” he whispered as he moved closer, one hand reaching out to grasp the fur-lining of her cloak. For a long moment, his eyes beckoned her forward, then he gave a sharp tug, and she tumbled toward him, all but falling into his arms.

  Swallowing, Caroline held his gaze. It would seem she didn’t have a choice. Or at least not much of one.

  And so she nodded.

  *

  As his little mouse lay in his arms, Pierce could have easily forgotten the world around him. She felt heavenly, warm and soft, and he could not help but trace each little puff of air that left her lips, drifting away on the ice-cold breeze swirling through the alley. Her blue eyes were wide as they looked into his. Although he noted a hint of fear lingering there, she stood tall, her shoulders pulled back, her jaw squared. She would not cower or beg, his little mouse!

  Pierce admired her for the determination that seemed to lie at the base of every one of her decisions—no matter how foolish!

  “Hey, man, what d’ya say?” one of the men behind him demanded, impatience seeping into his voice.

  Pierce’s hands on her waist tightened, and he watched her lips part on a little gasp. “Sorry, fellas,” he growled at the men, his gaze never once veering from the woman in his arms. “The lady is mine.”

  At the possessiveness in his voice, her gaze narrowed and, yet, he could feel a slight tremble dance down her spine, suggesting that she, too, had noticed the sparks lingering in the air between them. After all, she did not rebuke him or try to slip from his grasp. No, she remained where she was, her heart beating against his own.

  “But we saw her first!” the other man insisted, shuffling closer.

  Drawing in an annoyed breath, Pierce forced his hands to drop from her middle. Then he lifted his head and slowly turned to face the two blighters who’d followed Caroline into the alley. The moment they saw his mask, the expressions on their faces froze.

  Doubt seeped in where before there’d been only bravado, their instincts dulled by the spirits they’d consumed.

  “W-Who are ya, m-man?” the one with the woolen hat stammered.

  Pierce’s eyes remained hard as they moved from one to the other before he reached inside his cloak. “That is none of your concern,” he growled, noting the way both men were all but quaking in their boots. Then he drew forth the small dagger he always carried.

  The men’s eyes widened when they saw it, doubt turning to fear as they shrank backward.

  “I suggest you find amusement elsewhere.”

  For a moment, they hesitated. When Pierce advanced on them, their paralysis vanished in an instant. Spinning on their heels, they scurried out of the alley on unsteady feet.

  A dark chuckle left Pierce’s lips before he turned around to look upon his little, grey mouse.

  Her eyes were still narrowed, and they moved to touch upon the gleaming blade of his dagger. Even in the near dark here in the alley, it had a shine to it, and he wondered if she would now back away. Had he frightened her as well?

  Her throat worked, but she remained where she was, her chin lifting a fraction as though she were willing herself to maintain an outward appearance of calm. Still, the soft tremble in her lower lip suggested that she was anything but calm. If he were a gambling man, Pierce would bet all he owned that her pulse was thudding wildly in her veins as it never had before.

  Holding her gaze in the shrouded darkness of the alley, Pierce re-sheathed his dagger. Then he moved toward her once more, each step echoing like a clap of thunder between them. He could see her tremble with it, not because she feared him, but because she feared…his nearness.

  Pierce, too, felt oddly unhinged, drawn to her as though he had no choice in the matter. I didn’t have a choice. Her earlier words drifted into his mind, and he finally understood what she’d meant. If his life had depended on it, he could not have moved away from her. His feet guided him to her as his own pulse began to pound in his veins.

  Even under the heavy cloak, he could see her chest rise and fall with each rapid breath. Her hood had slid backward a little, revealing dark curls dancing down her temples, glistening with snowflakes as they slowly descended from the heavens, settling upon her head like diamonds. She looked almost ethereal, like a fairy not of this world. So very different from the little, grey mouse he’d first encountered.

  Yet, at her core, she was the same woman. He could see it in her eyes. Only here, in this moment, she was free. She was herself. Not the persona she had invented in order to…

  If only he knew.

  “Thank you,” she suddenly whispered like someone grasping for straws, someone desperately searching for something to say. He could see her all but leaning backward, leaning away from him as though she wished she could retreat but did not dare.

  That sudden sign of weakness mixed with the soft tremble in her lip stripped him of every last bit of control.

  Long strides, harsh and impatient, propelled him toward her, his gaze no doubt reflecting the longing that suddenly gripped him for she all but flinched at the sight of him…and then retreated a step, unable not to.

  It did not matter, though, for the distance between them had disappeared.

  Reaching for her, Pierce slipped his hands under her cloak where they found her small waist, settling where they’d been before. Then he yanked her against him, and the moment her lips parted on a gasp, he took her mouth with his.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Heart of Caroline Hawkins

  The moment his lips touched hers, Caroline’s mind went blank. Shock froze her limbs, and she all but hung in his embrace, unable to move, unable to think, unable to…

  Oh, no, not to feel for she did feel. In fact, that was all she did.

  She felt his large hands on her waist, urging her closer still. She felt his hard chest pressed against hers, his heartbeat almost sharp against her own. She felt his mouth move over hers with increasing pressure. She felt his teeth nip her lower lip, and when she gasped, she felt his tongue slip into her mouth, touching hers.

  Caroline’s senses reeled with the sensations coursing through her body, her mind still unable to process all that was happening.

  All she was feeling.

  Never in her life had Caroline not thought.

  Thoughts of any kind were her constant companions. Worries. Concerns. Strategies. All these and more constantly occupied her mind, forcing it to be always aware, always alert, always prepared.

  For if she didn’t think, who knew what would happen? What if she forgot to bow her head and act the demure wallflower? What if she spoke her mind and someone noticed the
sharp mind hidden behind those thick spectacles? Would the world end? Would everything she’d worked for for so long come crashing down, burying her underneath?

  Fear was also a constant companion, and Caroline could not deny that it held her trapped. Still, the moment the masked man’s mouth claimed hers—for there certainly was no other word for it!—it was as though the door to her prison sprang open.

  Her thoughts vanished, rushed to free themselves, leaving her alone…

  …and free.

  Her first instinct had been to push him away, to chide him for this audacity, to slap his face. However, the more her mind quieted, the more Caroline realized that she wanted to do something quite different.

  Never had she danced or flirted or received compliments. Always had she sought to keep gentlemen at bay, to keep herself hidden from them. Certainly, the man who held her in his arms was no gentleman. But perhaps that, in and of itself, was utterly perfect.

  And so instead of push him away, the hands that settled against his chest moved upward, curiously exploring the man who’d brought her this rush of emotions. A low growl rose from his throat when her fingers brushed against his skin where his jawline dipped down to his neck. She could feel his pulse thudding there, a sharp thump against her fingertips, an odd match to her own.

  Pushing herself up onto the tips of her toes, Caroline angled her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands moved to her back, pressing her closer against him as they stumbled backward until the cold brick wall caught them.

  And then she heard it.

  The soft nicker of a horse nearby.

  Again, Caroline froze. Only this time, her mind did not remain absent. Like an army charging down a hill, it returned, elbowing aside all she’d felt, all she’d hungered for, and reminded her of the stakes of her actions.

  What if they were discovered? What if she was seen out alone at night? And in the company of a man no less? A masked man?

  Images of her parents’ outrage filled her mind, and her blood ran cold. What was she doing?

  Wrenching her lips away, Caroline fought to clear her head, her hands slipping back to his hard chest, now straining to hold him back as he sought to reclaim her. His breath came as fast as her own as he stared down at her, his eyes brown pools of desire. Temptation urged her to give in, but common sense snuffed it out without delay. How could she have acted so carelessly? How dare he kiss her in such a manner?

  Regret came to his eyes as his hold on her lessened, his arms sliding from her back to settle on her waist once more, refusing to relinquish her completely. “You look shocked, little mouse,” he teased, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “Scandalized even.” A chuckle rumbled in his throat, and his gaze dipped lower to trace the curve of her lips.

  Temptation once more sparked in Caroline’s blood, but she fought it back down with a weapon that had always served her faithfully: righteous indignation.

  Oh, she would be furious with herself later, but now, now, she was furious with him!

  “I demand that you unhand me this instant,” she snapped in the frostiest tone she could muster, her hands pushing against the unmovable boulder he called a chest.

  Another chuckle rumbled below her fingers, but then he finally relented, his hands dropping from her sides, taking the heat with them. “If you insist, little mouse,” he continued to tease her, the look in his eyes betraying his amusement.

  Caroline gritted her teeth, then stepped back, in desperate need to put some space between them. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” she huffed, her fingers working to tug the tendrils the wind had loosened back under her hood.

  As though to defy her, he moved closer again, his gaze holding hers, all but daring her to lash out at him. Then one hand rose, reaching for the curl she’d just tugged into her hood, pulling it back out and letting it run through his fingers. A smile teased his lips as his gaze followed the dark strand. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered, and his gaze returned to hers. “You should wear it like this more often. It’s a crime to see it always tucked away.”

  Swallowing that annoyingly persistent lump in her throat, Caroline squared her shoulders and once again retrieved her tendril. “That is none of your concern,” she snapped, putting the haughtiest of haughty expressions in her eyes. “It is not your place to offer such advice, nor was it your place to…” His lips quirked, and her voice failed her. How embarrassing!

  “To kiss you?” he dared her. “Oh, but I disagree. After all, you owed me that kiss.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I b-beg your pardon?” she all but stammered, stumbling backward.

  Again, that annoyingly smug grin drew her attention to his lips. “Have you all but forgotten?” he asked, clutching his chest in feigned indignation. “You offered it in exchange for that precious pouch of yours.”

  Remembering their first encounter, Caroline shook her head. “I did no such thing!”

  “Not in words,” he agreed before he stalked closer, a hunter’s gleam in his eyes. “However, you did imply that you would…compensate me for returning the pouch.” His dark gaze drilled into hers, reminding her of the way she’d slid onto his lap, suggesting…promising even…that…that…

  “I was merely trying to retrieve what was mine,” Caroline huffed, trying to ignore the way he gazed down on her. “After all, all’s fair in love and war.” The moment the words left her lips, Caroline cringed. What was she thinking?

  Her smug savior chuckled. “I suppose that’s true. However, if that is the case, then you cannot fault me for demanding fair compensation.”

  Her gaze narrowed, anger blazing in her veins. “That pouch was mine to begin with,” she snapped, jabbing a finger at his unnerving chest. “You had no right to it!”

  His gaze narrowed. “What did you need it for?”

  Caroline stilled.

  “What was in it? Money? What were you doing out that night?”

  Warning bells went off in Caroline’s head. “What I do does not concern you,” she hissed, her hands beginning to tremble at the threat he suddenly posed. If he learned who she was, if he knew what was at stake for her, how important it was she keep her nightly activities a secret, what would he do? Would he threaten to tell her father? Would he extort her? Would he demand money in return for his silence? “I need to go.” She made to turn, but his hand shot out and grasped her arm, pulling her back.

  His gaze swept over her before he sighed, a hint of disappointment in the way he looked at her. “I’ll take you home.”

  Caroline tensed, ready to refuse him when a nagging suspicion made itself heard. Her gaze narrowed as she studied him. “Do you…?” She swallowed, afraid to hear her fears confirmed. “Do you know where I live?”

  That smug grin of his reawakened. Caroline could have slapped him!

  Her hands clamped together. “How do you—? Did you follow me?” Her voice rose in outrage. “How dare you? You—”

  He moved forward, closing the last bit of distance between them, his dark gaze sober as he looked down at her. “What if I hadn’t?” he demanded. “What if I hadn’t followed you?”

  Her jaw dropped when understanding dawned. “You followed me home that night?”

  He hesitated, then nodded.

  “And ever since you’ve…” Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she jerked her arm free. “You’ve been following me? For weeks?” The breath lodged in her throat as the magnitude of this revelation slowly sank in. “Why?” Her eyes swept over his masked face, seeing a stranger who’d robbed her, who’d held a gun on her, who carried a dagger, who… “What is it that you want?” she whispered, her feet moving backward, desperate for more distance.

  A deep sigh left his lips as he watched her retreat. “You do not need to fear me.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Caroline scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Rubbing a hand over his chin, he stepped toward her, a hint of exas
peration in the way his jaw tensed. “And what if I hadn’t followed you?” he demanded, his tone harsh now, reproachful. “You had no business being out at night, especially not on your own.”

  Anger overcame fear at his audacity. “How dare you—?”

  “How dare you?” he interrupted, and his hands clamped around her upper arms, bringing her face closer to his. “How dare you endanger yourself? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? Do you have any idea what could have happened tonight if I hadn’t been here? What these two blighters could have done to you?” His breath came fast as he stared at her.

  “Why would you care?” Caroline asked, surprised at the concern she saw glimmer in his dark eyes. “Why would it matter to you?”

  He swallowed, and his grip on her arms slackened as his gaze moved skyward for a heartbeat or two. Then his eyes returned, something deep and meaningful in them as they sought hers. “Would you have rather kissed them?”

  Caroline tensed at the vile thought, and a shudder snaked down her back.

  Seeing her reaction, he exhaled slowly.

  Overwhelmed, Caroline swallowed. “You shouldn’t have kissed me. That was…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze slid from his, unable to bear the weight of his stare.

  His right hand abandoned its post upon her upper arm and moved to grasp her chin, gently tilting it upward until she was forced to meet his gaze. “You kissed me back,” he reminded her, his thumb brushing along her lower lip.

  His hands on her bare skin sent a jolt through her, stealing her breath and quickening her pulse. “That was poor judgment,” she whispered, fighting the temptation she saw in his eyes, an invitation to repeat what they’d shared only moments earlier. “I should never have done that.”

  A teasing chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he pinched her chin. “Poor judgment or not,” he whispered, the words falling from his lips onto her own, “it felt heavenly.” His gaze sparked with something utterly tempting. “You cannot deny that.”

  Caroline inhaled a fortifying breath, dimly aware that she was once more falling into his trap, distracted by a desire she had never felt before, a desire she thought she did not possess. All her life, she’d been so focused on escaping the dangers, the limitations that came with men, with marriage. Never once had she thought about the connection, the closeness that could exist between two people. Never once had she been tempted to do so.