The queue moved quickly, the three staff working hard to get the commuters on their way. Rory sipped the espresso. It was good.
He glanced back at Sky, unable to resist.
God, she looked good. Her rebellious, tomboy nature had streamlined into a more feminine, hellish-hot look. It was a kind of retro style she had, he supposed. Like a 1950s pinup crossed with a skater girl. Nice mix. The day before she’d been dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket—all red lipstick and smoky eyes. Her naturally black hair was streaked with red now, and fell loose over her shoulders. Today it was pulled up in a sugar-skull printed scarf. She wore a cute diner-style uniform. The heavy eye make up and copious ear jewelry were the same, but Sky had grown up.
Why had she helped him? It kept bugging him.
It’d been a split second decision, to let her take the booty. He wasn’t impetuous by nature, and the cops hadn’t been looking for him. They’d released him without charge because there was no evidence. He hadn’t left his fingerprint anywhere, and he wasn’t involved with Jackson any more, but he hadn’t wanted to take the risk. The evidence was in the bag, and he planned to destroy it.
There was too much at stake, but he’d trusted Sky.
Why was she there, right when he was trying to dispose of the tool kit? Was it really a coincidence? It’d been a fast move on her part, like she was ahead of the game, yet he couldn’t believe she’d been part of a set up. He had to keep it in mind until he was sure, so he kept an eye on the encroaching crowds, looking for Jackson or one of his sidekicks.
When Sky came off duty a few minutes later she appeared at the side of the kiosk and waved him over, directing him behind it. He was relieved to see she had the bag in her hand. He tossed the coffee cup in a bin as he followed. She waited in the shadow of a billboard at the back of the kiosk. When he joined her it almost felt as if they were alone in the midst of the crowded London station. “Your office, I assume.”
Her cheeky grin really did something to him. It wasn’t the way she looked, he realized—although she looked great—it was same old same old getting to him. He’d always wanted her. She was dangerous candy. He’d taken a beating from his dad over her, more than once.
She eyed him from under her lashes.
She was different. Flirting, although it wasn’t girly and giggly like it used to be. It was bolder. Rory wanted to spend some time with her on her back smiling at him that way while he got to know her better. Did she have a boyfriend—how many had she had since he left Wales? Why am I even thinking this?
He stared pointedly at the bag she held in her hand, slipping hers off his shoulder. “So,” she said, “you’re still using yours too. Three years ago, your dad got us one each for Christmas.”
He didn’t really remember. “Sky, the bag.”
She held out his backpack.
They exchanged.
Closing on her, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer. “Why did you do it? Are you working for someone?”
Her eyes widened, her lips parting. “Rory!”
Her mouth was a painted pout. It made him want to bite her, to make her cry out because he had his hands on her. His grip on her tightened and she gasped.
Her eyelids lowered. She looked aroused.
It was making him hard. “Answer me.”
She scrabbled her feet, a frown developing on her pretty forehead. “No. I’m not working for anyone, why would you think that?”
“Then why did you swap?”
She tipped back her chin and flashed her eyes at him. “I have this problem. I can’t seem to stay away from trouble.”
“That much hasn’t changed, huh, kiddo?” He laughed, then stroked his hand up and down the back of her neck, remembering.
“Oh, I’ve changed, believe me.” Her eyes held secret knowledge.
“You certainly look different.” All woman now, if I’m not mistaken.
“I’m glad you approve.”
“Did you move to the city alone?”
“I moved here alone but I have friends now.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m going to have to head back or I’ll overrun my toilet break.”
As she eased away he unzipped his bag. Rifling through the contents, concern set in. Shit. She’d kept the essential item, the very thing Jackson—and the police, and god knows who else—were after. How did she know it was the important one? The red sticker had given it away.
“Looking for something specific?” Sky smiled at him.
He tried not to overreact. “It’s not safe for you to have that.”
“I kept it as insurance.” She pulled her apron straight, an action that made him notice the curve of her waist and hip. “In case I wanted to see you again.”
Amused by that, he baited her. “You could just say you so.”
“I always used to have to barter with you, it seemed natural.”
Barter. Is that how she saw it? To him it was more difficult. He’d been warned off her. She was forbidden. Yet here they were, together, in the big city without anyone warning him off. Fascinated, he put his finger under her chin, leaning right in to her again. “Make it soon.”
Her eyes widened, her lips parted.
Rory smiled.
“I’ve really got to go. I need this job.” She nodded her head at the kiosk. “So we meet this evening and pick up where we left off?” She looked at him from under heavy lids. “I want to hear all about your hard….” she paused and ran her finger tips down his leather jacket, “…drive, and why it’s such hot property.”
Far too sharp for her own good. It was all he needed, to be held over a barrel by his kid stepsister. It was so important to get the USB stick back, but if he gave any hint of its value, she’d be even more curious. She’d also be in danger.
He simply nodded.
“Buy me pizza tonight and I’ll give you your precious USB.”
“Where?”
She pulled her hand out of her pocket and handed him the torn corner of a piece of paper. Rory accepted it from her hand and read it.
Islington Tube Station.
First left outside the station, second right, next left, 6th door on your right.
Press buzzer marked 6a. 7pm.
She’d prepared in advance. He looked back at her, curious. “6a?”
“My apartment, although that’s a bit of an exaggeration. It’s cramped, it’s damp. Not enough space to do my art either, but it’s cheap. And you’ll get your hands on your precious USB there, if you’re up for it.” She waggled her eyebrows, gave a secret smile, waved, and left.
He watched her. Up for my precious USB? No honey, I know what you want me up for. You want to play out your rebellious streak with me.
She’d even said it once.
She’d cornered him at the back of the garage, all candy colors and bubble gum, and propositioned him. “Let’s fuck to annoy our parents.”
He’d laughed it off, but he’d wanted it too.
But Sky was seventeen and still at school.
His dad sussed them out and Rory gained an earful of damning warnings, bruises and a fractured rib as a result. Shortly after, he’d hightailed it out of Wales, afraid for them both.
Now she’d stepped in front of him and was fast getting tangled in his life, once again putting them both in danger.
I should walk away, keep her out of this.
But Sky had his essential tool kit.
Staring after her, he made a vow. Once he got the kit back, he would do exactly that. He’d walk away.
CHAPTER FOUR
As soon as her shift ended, Sky was out of there.
Darting through the crowd in the tube station, she leapt on a train and waited impatiently by the door until her stop. By the time she got to her lodgings, she had less than half an hour until Rory was due.
Slamming the door closed behind her, she stripped out of her uniform as she crossed the small room to the cupboard and shelves that were the only storage s
pace, and pulled out the outfit she’d decide to wear.
She had to make the most of the evening. Once he got his precious computer gear off her, she might never see him again. She wasn’t stupid. He’d used her, leapt at her offer to take the bag, and she wasn’t fooling herself he was coming for anything else. Flirting—yes, he still had time for that. But it was all about his computer stuff. She wanted to know more though, about him and his life in London. Could she persuade him to keep in touch, maybe meet again? She hoped so.
Looking into the mirror over the bathroom sink, she pictured him waiting for her by the Coffee Hut while she applied her lipstick. Lord, he’d looked good. All hard lean muscle, built for purpose, and waiting for her. She untied her scarf and ruffled her hair, wishing she had more time to prepare.
He’d always been streetwise, edgy with testosterone, bringing a hard masculine presence into her life. She’d missed him like crazy.
Her mother knew. Although it had been a joke to them, her mother Shelly and Rory’s dad, Patrick. They treated her like a little kid. Then up and left for the Far East, and she’d moved in with her Nan, her and her older sister Rowan. By that time Rowan was pregnant and had dropped out of school. As much as she loved her Nan, they were tough times. Dealing with college, fighting back her feelings about her mother. She’d had to grow up, fast.
Now she was over it, and by lucky chance she’d found Rory in London.
He looked even better. Rougher around the edges, but sure of himself.
Squeezing herself into a black velvet bodycon dress—a cheap copy of a designer number—she raced the clock to be ready. Her hasty efforts made her trip. She cursed Rory for getting her into a state. It was little wonder. Heat built inside her when she recalled how it’d felt being held, his hand around the back of her neck while he quizzed her. It made her dizzy with lust.
Chuckling, she admitted it to herself. Lust. He’d filled her thoughts for nearly three years. Even when he’d left Cadogan, it was Rory she’d think about in her bed at night. It was his name on her lips when she heard the roar of a motorbike approaching. There were so many times when they come close to being lovers. Moments that lingered in her memory. On a hot summer’s day she’d pushed up the sash window in her bedroom and sat on the window sill looking down at him working on his motorbike in the back yard. He was stripped to the waist, his muscles gleaming in the sunlight as he worked. Loud rock music blared from his phone, the perfect raunchy soundtrack for the view.
For a few minutes Rory didn’t realize he had an audience, then he turned around and looked directly at her. She’d made no pretence about what she was up to. She even waved. It was a mid summer heat wave and she was wearing a bikini top and frayed shorts. He stared at her cleavage and gave a sloping smile. She put her hand up against the window frame. “I’ve got a fan on in here. Why don’t you come up and chill out for a while?”
He put down the tool he held and put his hands on his hips. His jeans were low-slung and she could see his muscled abdomen. A moment later he strode off and disappeared from view. She stayed where she was, unsure whether he would come to her room at all, but moments later he did arrive there, still shirtless.
He looked at the fan on her bedside table and then flung himself on her single bed, arms behind his head, long muscled torso bared to the fan—and her eyes.
Sky could only stare. Breathless with arousal she savored the fact his head was on her pillow, his gorgeous male body on her bed covers.
“That’s good,” he commented and looked at her. “Thanks for the invitation.”
They stared at each other, the tension between them ratcheting in the humid atmosphere.
“Why don’t you join me?” He patted the bed next to him, moving over a bit as if making room for her to lie down next to him.
Sky still remembered how it’d felt, how the longing to be with him hit overdrive. She’d risen to her feet and was just about to go over and join him when the bedroom door was slammed wide open and Rory’s dad was standing there, one hand flat on the door, glaring at them, one to the other and back again. She heard Rory groan just before his dad let rip and ordered him out of the room. Rory slouched off regretfully. The shouting reached her from downstairs. It made her put her hands over her ears. She’d climbed onto the bed, lying in the space he’d occupied, wishing he was still there.
A knock at the door brought her back to the moment sharply. Rory was early. Hastening over she opened up, holding her breath.
It was her neighbor, Jamie. She breathed out.
He was dressed for work, smart bartenders outfit; his hair closely graded at the sides and long on top. He was a good-looking man.
Jamie looked her up and down speculatively. “Oh, well, look at you. I’m guessing…hot date?”
“Yes, kind of.” She glanced at the time on her Smartphone, an idea ticking over. “Can you hang around for five minutes?”
“Sure. If it means I get to meet the guy you’re all dressed up for.” Jamie smiled. “Who is he?”
She thought about what to say. “Rory Rattigan. My stepbrother.”
His eyebrows lifted.
Sky couldn’t resist. “Wait till you see him.”
Jamie smoothed the sides of his hair with the palms of his hands. “I look forward to it.”
* * * *
Rory strode along the street and drew to a halt on the intersection. His breath misted on the cold evening air. Turning up the collar on his leather biker jacket, he glanced back and scoped the people on the pavements behind him. He had to be sure no one was following him to Sky’s address.
Passers by moved quickly.
He walked on and found his destination. Checking out the place, he noticed the building was tall and narrow, poorly maintained, and there were twelve separate buzzers. He pressed Sky’s and waited, expecting the buzzer to sound to let him in. Instead the door opened and Sky emerged, dressed in a black PVC coat and over-the-knee black biker boots.
Rory did a double take. She looked hot, even hotter than earlier in the day. He was about to say something when a guy followed her out.
“See you later,” the guy said and kissed Sky on the corner of her mouth. She draped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. They both laughed.
“This is Rory,” Sky said.
“Nice to meet you.” The guy flicked back an over long fringe. He put out his hand, giving Rory a swift once-over as he did so. “I’m Jamie.”
Rory shook the guy’s hand. He waved and shot off.
It felt like a show. Rory stifled a smile.
“Come on,” Sky said, “the pizza joint down the street does Coke and a large slice, two for a tenner, eat in, it’s good too.”
“Okay,” Rory said, surprised. “We could go to proper pizza place.”
“I go to this place all the time. It’s good, trust me.” She elbowed him in the ribs and urged him along the street.
He caught her perfume, a musky number that made him think about sex. “Was that your boyfriend?”
She paused, overlong. “Jamie, yeah. He lives next door. That’s how we met. Why, you jealous?”
“No.” Yes. He shook his head. “I’d have put money on him being gay, like maybe he’s your gay BFF neighbor.”
Annoyance flashed in her eyes. Her lips pursed and she shook her head. “What on earth made you think he’s gay?”
“He kissed you like a gay friend.”
“How would you know what a gay man kisses like?” She fixed him with an accusing stare.
“I don’t. But I know I wouldn’t kiss you the way he did. I’d make it way more interesting.”
They’d reached the door of the take out joint. She had her hand on the door handle but stalled and stared at him. She remembered the kisses too. She looked as if she were about to say something, then changed her mind and gave him a brief smile before entering the eatery.
Rory congratulated himself. He resisted winding her up about it.
She led him to a bo
oth in the window. He’d have chosen somewhere less obvious but he let her decide.
“Pepperoni slice and a Coke?”
He nodded.
She called their order out to a guy standing behind the counter. The guy acknowledged her with a wave. Moments later the pizza slices arrived on a thin marble slab. The Coke was served in its can.
She pulled a ten pound note out of her pocket.
Rory pushed it aside. “My treat, for helping me out.”
She smiled.
It was only then Rory realized she didn’t have a bag with her.
“So where’s my USB?”
“Safe.”
You won’t be if you hang on to it much longer.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your hands on it soon enough.” She tucked into the pizza hungrily.
He resisted the urge to bellow at her. It was annoying but she obviously had a plan. “Please don’t tell me all you eat is pizza?”
She shrugged. “It’s cheap and its close by. My apartment doesn’t have cooking facilities. Just a kettle. There’s only so many instant noodles a girl can eat.”
Why did that make him want to cook her a hearty meal, something nourishing? “How long have you been in London?”
“Five months.”
“You should’ve got in touch with me.”
“I didn’t know where you were, and your phone has been dead since you left Wales.” She wiped a bit of tomato sauce from the corner of her mouth. It made him want to lick it off for her.
“I changed phones.” Guiltily, he realized he should have told her. “You don’t do Facebook?” He knew she did.
“You never post an update.” As soon as she said it, she bit her lower lip between her teeth, as if she regretted revealing she’d looked for updates.
The sight of the sexy move made his blood head south. It was still there, the tug of attraction between them. And she’d been watching his social media, waiting for an update? That surprised him.
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