Steal My Heart

by Lisa Eugene

  He heard her soft steps in the bathroom, then had to bite his lip to contain his laughter at her indelicate screech.

  “Couldn’t you at least have put the darn seat down? I almost fell in and drowned!”

  “I could always come in and assist you.”

  “Don’t you dare!” she hissed, and he couldn’t help the chuckle that erupted. He could hear her mumbling angrily under her breath, like the drone of a static radio.

  He heard the soft crescendo of the toilet flush then water running into the sink. Many moments later when she didn’t emerge, he huffed with impatience. Annoyed, he poked his head through the door. Her privacy be damned! He didn’t have all day. Was she trying to escape through a window? Was she fashioning some sort of weapon? His gaze alighted on her kneeling form. Was she…cleaning?

  The sight of her on her knees, looking up at him with those bright slate-blue eyes, did strange things to him. He almost groaned, but annoyance quickly doused his lustful thoughts. She simply finished sweeping up the scattered hair on the floor, then she brushed past him briskly, wearing a towel wrapped around her body. Gabe’s hand quickly snaked out to grab the end of the towel, and with a quick flick of his wrist, yanked it off her frame. She gasped in shock.

  “You brute!”

  “I like you much better this way.”

  He watched her startled eyes dilate with seething anger, and when she opened her mouth to protest, he waggled an admonishing finger.

  “If you just tell me where the flash drive is, things would go so much smoother,” he said, stepping close to her.

  She looked up at him, puzzled. “I don’t have it.”

  Gabe stared into her eyes, trying to read the expression on her face, trying to judge her veracity. She was a stubborn one. What was going on inside that head? What could she hope to gain by withholding it? Her teeth caught and nibbled her bottom lip and his eyes couldn’t help feasting on the sight. Damn, she was sexy! He wanted to take nibbles of her entire body. His palms itched to hold the supple firmness of her gorgeous breasts and he could imagine nipping on their rosy points. Something like a growl rumbled from his chest as he laced his arm around her waist and jerked her roughly against him. His lips claimed hers hungrily, first meeting a tight line of resistance, then as he tongued the rigid flesh, she gasped, allowing him to sample her sweetness. Slowly the lips beneath his became more pliant, molding to the contours of his greedy mouth, and subtly responding to his questing tongue.

  Hot desire erupted inside him when his tongue met hers, dueling and tasting, exploring her sultry warmth. He flexed his hips into her, rubbing his aching erection against her abdomen. God, he wanted her with an intensity beyond reason. He felt her quake against him, her body seeking his. Her heated breath blew into his mouth, and he swallowed it, catching her bottom lip and sucking softly. He eased back slightly, his coarse breath blowing across her cheek. Her eyes were draped close, her breathing rapid.

  “Tell me where it is, Maggie?”

  “What?” she whispered, dazed.

  “The flash drive.”

  He saw her eyes spring open in alarm. She gasped and pulled away, her skin a scarlet blush. Tears misted her long pale lashes.

  “Oh God…” she breathed, panic pooling in her eyes. “Leave me alone. I don’t know what you’re talking about! And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you anything, you…you… murderer!”

  Gabe’s body went rigid. His muscles corded with tight restraint. He worked hard to check the anger that boiled up inside him, but fog clouded his brain. All he could hear were her words, echoes from the past. A rope of desperate pain knotted around his heart, the two ends pulling taut. He retrieved the duct tape from the bathroom, and then caught her as she bolted for the bedroom door. Roughly he grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the chair, taping her securely once again. He fastened a piece of tape across her mouth and glared down at her. In his anger he’d over done the tape, lavishly wrapping her to look absurdly like a gray mummy, but he was too enraged to care. Her eyes were feverish, and her blonde, shoulder length waves were tousled about her head in a messy shag.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he grated. “And when I return I won’t be as pleasant as I have been.”

  Although payphones in New York City were rapidly dwindling, Gabe knew the location of a few that still worked thanks to the MTA. He was also grateful to them for their neglect in maintaining the surveillance cameras at this particular location. Exiting the subway car, he slipped into a sheltered phone booth at the end of a deserted platform. He inserted a coin into the horizontal slot. Flipping the collar up on his jacket he punched in the number he’d committed to memory. Even though he’d cloaked his number, he knew it wouldn’t take long for it to be traced then cross checked with an automatic location indicator for the address. He intended to be long gone before anyone came looking for him.

  “I’ve got it,” he said simply when he heard the voice answer.

  “Who is this?”

  “Who were you expecting?”

  “Dutch?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  There was a lengthy pause that made Gabe’s forehead crease.

  “Good. I thought there was a problem.” The other man blew out a long breath.

  “No problem. I have it. Unless…you don’t want it anymore, I can give it back. I hear the Rollins are very forgiving.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met them. I want it. Where are you? I’ll have you picked up.”

  “Let’s stick to the schedule.”

  “Have you reviewed it?”

  Gabe frowned. “Should I?”

  “Just want to make sure I’m getting what I’m paying for.”

  “There’s no doubt.”

  “I can have someone meet—”

  Gabe hung up the phone and made another call.

  “It’s me.”

  “Where the fuck are you?” the voice bellowed.

  “I’m good, thanks for asking. There were problems.” He kept his voice calm.

  “I know. Cane is not happy.”

  “Just spoke to him.” Gabe paused. He’d never heard such urgency in Harry’s voice. “What’s on the drive?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “I need more info on Cryostar.”

  “Okay.”

  He paused. “Cane too. Anything you can find.”

  “Sure. Do you want me to meet you?”

  “No, I’ll be in touch.”

  “Wait—”

  Gabe slipped out of the booth and turned away. Damn, he could already hear footsteps pounding in his direction. Luckily, he’d planned for the unexpected this time. He palmed his gun and slipped silently onto the subway track, making his way towards the metal door at the end of the dark tunnel. He let his thoughts replay the events of the last few weeks.

  Harry had contacted him about this job—which was impressive in itself as he was a hard man to find—but his longtime friend had asked him for this favor. The job seemed simple enough. Compared to what he was usually hired for, this should have been a cake walk. Everything had checked out.

  Cane Howard was a very wealthy entrepreneur and philanthropist who had his hand in everything. His large investments ranged anywhere from solar energy to biomedical research to astro-robotic technology. He’d acquired ARSA, a medical technology company that was apparently on the verge of a major breakthrough in oncology surgery. The competing research company, Cryostar, own by two physicians, was working on similar technology and scheduled to release data on their phase three treatment trials in a month. Cane hired him to steal their research data. From what Gabe had gathered, Cryostar was eagerly anticipating approval from the FDA and would blow ARSA out of the water.

  The sum of money promised seemed astronomical even by his standards, but Gabe was not inclined to offer dissent, especially when the first half of it had been expeditiously wired to an overseas account at his specifications. Getting into Cryostar and retrieving the data had been simple, getti
ng out had been the tricky part. He still couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong, or why. He supposed the real question was who. Gabe climbed the stairs that lead to another door in another dim tunnel. He needed answers. He needed to know what was on that drive. To do that he needed to quell his raging lust for his beautiful blonde temptress. He lost all control when he was around her. The sweet taste of her lips and her arousing figure was a distraction that he could not afford.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Maggie watched the shadows sneak into her bedroom to pool in the corners and lurk in the tight spaces. She had no idea what time it was. From her position she couldn’t see a clock. In fact, all she could see were more muted shadows folding around her. She must have dozed off at some point because she had vivid images of deep brown eyes saturated with anger and longing. She recalled events that could not have been real, yet the fact that she was anchored snugly to a chair was distressing proof of her reality.

  Her fingers were devoid of sensation, and even the paresthesia that had buzzed in her limbs earlier was now a dull throb. A slight noise from her living room seized her attention. Suddenly her bedroom door opened and an arrow of bright light slashed across her legs. She saw the silhouette of the large body fill the doorway. A loud curse was grunted in obvious anger as the hulking form hastily approached her.

  “What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

  Maggie stared blankly as her captor bent over her prone form. She and the chair had succumbed to gravity hours ago. She’d been trying to vigorously rock her way out of her bonds when it had tipped over. She’d managed to wriggle a portion of her torso loose, but her ankles had caught on one of the wooden legs, and still tied, she was unable to free it. Now, she lay in a twisted heap of gray adhesive with her body wrapped around the chair.

  In one smooth motion her captor had her freed from her confines. He sank to the floor and pulled her into his lap, easing away the tape from her mouth. Maggie’s inert appendages didn’t have the strength to protest as he first took one, then the other, and vigorously rubbed life back into them. All the while, he chastised her for her foolish attempt at escaping. She wanted to burst into tears. She’d been so relieved to see him. Now, his strong fingers gently kneaded her flesh, massaging a languid current through her. His fingers were masterful. She never wanted him to stop.

  She shook her head. This was definitely Stockholm Syndrome. She was losing her mind. Lying on the floor, she’d waded through so many emotions—anger, determination, depression, self-pity. Now, she felt as though they all flurried about inside her. She was a snow globe of emotion and he was the shaker. A bubble of hysteria gurgled from her throat, drawing the attention of curious brown eyes. She was surprised at the tenderness she saw reflected in his usually stony gaze. Her breath hitched at the tingling that raced along her spine.

  Her face was mere inches from his and long fingers reached up to tuck stray locks behind her ear.

  “You could have broken a limb, you little fool.” His voice was soft, melodic.

  Maggie refrained from pointing out the fact that she would not have been in her predicament had it not been for him restraining her in the first place! She huffed, feeling her pluck returning.

  He sighed. His fingers forked into the waves of her hair. He cradled her head and butted their foreheads. “What am I going to do with you?” he whispered.

  Maggie’s lips twisted wryly. “Let me go?”

  She noticed he didn’t answer, but saw his dark brows crease as again he started ministering to her insensate limbs. Soon, she started to squirm in his lap. His fingers were creating fluttery sensations along their path, and she was growing more and more conscious of his proximity. She was also fully cognizant of the fact that she wore very little clothing, which allowed each touch a greater intimacy. Why did he have to be so damned good looking? She almost wished for the return of that ghastly facial hair. She wondered now why he’d been so unkempt. It was a stark contrast to his current appearance.

  “Feeling better?” he inquired, now deliberately attending to each toe.

  Oh God…Maggie nodded and pulled away. When had her toes become so sensitive? He stood and assisted her to a standing position, keeping his arms around her until she was steady. Her eyes rounded in surprise when he drew away, walked into her bathroom, and returned with her bathrobe. Maybe he felt guilty she’d almost died by way of duct-tape, but she wasn’t about to question his abrupt beneficence.

  “Let’s eat.” He motioned for her to follow him into the living room.

  Maggie’s stomach grumbled excitedly at the smell of the food, and she ravenously consumed every morsel from the Chinese containers that he put in front of her. He sat and eyed her curiously, obviously surprised by the volume she could put away. She’d always been a good eater. Growing up with three brothers, she’d never had the luxury of sitting and delicately picking at her food. If it wasn’t rapidly consumed, it was gobbled down by one of her siblings.

  She’d seen several shopping bags and a backpack when she’d entered the living room, and now she wondered what was in them. She could make out some clothing peeking out of the top of one the bags. How long was he planning on staying? Where had he been all evening?

  She chanced a glance at him sitting across the table from her. He was leaning forward in the chair, his large body dwarfing the furniture. He appeared engrossed in cleaning his paper plate, but she knew he was aware of her every movement. He seemed less brutal somehow, more pensive and less aggressive. He’d only bristled mildly when she’d insisted they wash their hands before they ate. And he hadn’t complained when she put placemats and handi-wipes on the table. He’d just regarded her in that funny way he always did, with his brows raised and his lips tilted, like he was mulling over a frustrating puzzle. She let her gaze rove over his face. His dark hair was now dry and combed back from his face in silky waves. The color was a very dark brown, almost black, and matched the dusky hues in his eyes. She watched his lips wrap around the prongs of the fork and felt a fission of heat scudder through her. Those lips had kissed her, and, she shamefully admitted, she’d kissed them back.

  “Didn’t your mother tell you it’s impolite to stare?” he asked without looking up.

  The deep voice reined in her wayward thoughts, and she felt her skin prickle with heat, then anger. She looked into the dark eyes now regarding her with veiled amusement.

  “Didn’t your mother tell you not to kidnap innocent women and have your way with them?”

  She watched a slow grin creep across his handsome face. “I’ve yet begun to have my way with you, Maggie.”

  His words made her breath catch and caused shivers to ripple beneath her skin, but she stared resolutely.

  “Listen, why don’t you just leave? I promise I won’t call the police. I don’t even know your name.”

  “Gabe.”

  She blinked. ‘Gabe’ didn’t suit him. Maybe…Atilla or Caligula.

  “Now that we’re properly introduced, you can tell me the whereabouts of my drive.”

  “I don’t have your flash drive.”

  Silence ticked by as his gaze probed hers. “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t!” She huffed in frustration. “And how would I’ve gotten it?”

  “I slipped it into the pocket of your uniform on the train when I was indisposed.”

  “You mean when you were pretending to be at death’s door? I helped you despite my better judgment!” She scowled at him. “Did you really stop breathing? Did you even need mouth to mouth?”

  “No. But it was nice to get it.”

  Her nails dug into her palms. She gritted her teeth and had to count slowly. She hated this man! Really, she did! He drove her so crazy! She couldn’t believe the germs he’d subjected her to, all for nothing. The train had been filthy. He’d been a walking infection. And, on top of that, he’d slipped something in her pocket?

  “The flash drive is about this big, gray.” He held up his thumb and index finge
r to denote the few inches.

  “I still don’t know what…” She suddenly remembered getting undressed in the foyer. David had said there was still something in her pocket. Maggie bit her bottom lip, worrying it slowly as she tried to recall their exchange. She’d been so piqued after her harried experience that she hadn’t known which way was up. Hmmm, maybe…what would David have done with it? She’d told him to take it out. She took the time to cogitate while he stared hopefully. What was on that drive? Had he killed three men for it? Should she be giving it to him? Could it mean more deaths? She snorted in answer to her last question. Yes, hers!

  Would he kill her to get it? But, he’d been so gentle with her before. He’d kissed her. He’d rubbed her toes. Stockholm, stupid! She needed to get him out of there. She’d give it to him and then call the police. This was not her problem. Look at what happened the last time she got involved! She rose from her chair and skirted furniture as she made her way to the small desk in the foyer. His eyes tracked her intently. She was rooting through the drawer for the second time when she sensed him close behind her.

  “Well?” he said impatiently when she turned to him.

  She leveled him a blank stare and shrugged cautiously. “It should be in there. That’s the only place I can think of.”

  His previously relaxed face morphed into a scowl. “What are you saying?”

  Maggie cringed at his steely tone. She waved an arm into her apartment. “It’s got to be somewhere in here. I just don’t know where.”

  Anger simmered in his bottomless dark eyes and she saw his jaw clench. “You mean to tell me that in this neurotically tidy apartment you don’t know where the flash drive is? I’d bet you know where every speck of dust and fur ball resides.”

  “I don’t have dust or fur balls!” She couldn’t help responding. “Find my damn drive!”

  She visibly startled at his last words. He was hovering so menacingly close she couldn’t think. She regarded his intimidating size and massaged her temples with her fingers, trying to stimulate her memory. Okay… David had given her a plastic bag for her clothing. She’d folded them…