by Linda Kage
She slowed to a stop, gaping at me as if I’d lost my mind. So I batted my lashes, feeling as if I’d just won that sparring match. “Can’t let my lovely prisoner escape on me, now can I?”
And, yes, victory was mine. I had rendered her absolutely speechless. She stared at me with nothing to say in return.
I leaned toward her and softly prompted, “The stain, my love?”
“The stain?” she repeated absently, as if she couldn’t even remember what a stain was. Then she jumped and blinked herself present again. “Oh, right. The stain.” After a quick scan at the floor, she pointed. “It was there.”
Keeping hold of her hand, I knelt down on one knee. She tried to pull her fingers free, but I refused to let go, so she snapped, “Really? You still think I’m going to run when I’m busy trying to prove my innocence to you?”
“Of course not,” I countered. “I just can’t seem to relinquish such soft, beguiling fingers.”
“Oh, give me a break.” She sniffed as I smoothed my palm across the carpet, pausing when I encountered damp fibers.
Holy shit, she might’ve actually told the truth here.
Above me, a smug voice taunted, “Wet, isn’t it? Huh. Guess I’m not such a liar, after all.”
I peered up at her, dazed by the realization that I’d been wrong. I always assumed the worst about people, and I was very rarely mistaken.
“Why would you clean her carpet?” I couldn’t help but ask.
She did that uncomfortable shifting thing again, transferring her weight from one leg to the other as her gaze darted away. She’d done that before, when she’d confessed a truth she hadn’t wanted to share.
Then she scowled at me and muttered, “Look, I have a strange compulsion to clean carpet stains, okay. It involves blood and dead mothers, and just don’t ask. All right?”
“All right,” I whispered. The agony and torment in her eyes had my lips parting as I continued to study her.
Every emotion in her features was genuine, I realized. What you saw is what you got with this woman. The concept was so refreshing and startling that I couldn’t seem to look away. I wanted to reach up and simply touch her, just to experience what true purity felt like.
I’d only ever met one other person who was so honestly sincere. And I’d already thrown down twenty-eight grand for an elevator to be fixed in her building just to make her happy. It made me wonder what lengths I’d go to for the beauty in front of me, since I was actually attracted to her. She had some bite to her, too, not the sickening sweetness Kaitlynn did. That made her so much more alluring.
Jesus, this woman just might have the power to destroy me.
She frowned at me suddenly and jostled my hand as if to get my attention or shake herself free. “Seriously, why are you still kneeling like that? You look like you’re going to propose.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe I am.”
Was I? I knew I didn’t want to let her go. I knew I wanted her. I knew I might never encounter anyone like her again. But trusting the things bubbling inside me was impossible.
I tightened my grip on her fingers as a cold sweat took over. What the hell was happening here?
“Oh my God.” Gabby huffed out a moody breath and tugged at my hand again, manually trying to yank me upright. “You are so ridiculous. Get your ass up, right now.”
Ridiculous. There came another term no one had applied to me before. She definitely saw me through interesting eyes. Lovely, dark chocolate brown eyes with the thickest lashes that fringed them spectacularly.
Damn, she was gorgeous.
“No, I don’t think I will,” I told her mildly, refusing to move. “You’re kind of cute when you’re irritable and uncomfortable like this.”
“And your looks seriously decline when you’re being a pain in the ass.”
Pain in the ass. Hmm, that was getting closer to what people usually called me.
I tsked. “So, this probably isn’t an ideal time to ask where you want our wedding to take place, hmm?”
“Stand. Up. Now,” she growled.
I smiled through my un-cooperation, until my gaze fell to the white trash bag she continued to clutch tightly in her free hand.
Sobering, I nodded to it. “Tell me what’s in the sack.”
Sighing, she tipped her face toward the ceiling. When she glanced down at me again, she looked almost defeated.
“My brother’s sick,” she said. “Okay?”
I squinted at the sack, not sure what that meant.
“This,” she lifted the bag a few inches and shook it, “is just a couple things I thought would suffice as payment for cleaning the carpet. It’s to make him feel better.”
With a nod, I settled my attention on her full, sequined skirt. “And the dress?”
Flushing, she bit her lip and shuffled awkwardly. “It was pretty. I was going to put it right back after I saw how it looked on me. No one was supposed to see or ever know about that. But you walked in before I could return it, and…” She shrugged. “You know the rest of the story.”
I opened my mouth to tell her I was glad I’d gotten to see her in it. It was beautiful on her, as if it had been designed just for her. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? I didn’t even know she existed when the vision for its creation had entered my head.
Strange.
Before I could ponder the phenomenon further, the distinct sound of a door unlocking echoed down the hall from the front of the apartment.
Wide brown eyes gaped at me, letting me know she heard it too.
“Shit!” I surged to my feet beside her, squeezing her hand tight. “She’s home.”
“Wait. What do you mean shit?” Eyes going wide, she gasped. “Oh my God, you’re not supposed to be here, either. Are you? I thought you looked way too sneaky, backing into the apartment the way you did.” Expression going murderous, she smacked me hard on the side of my shoulder. “You fucking hypocrite! Treating me like a burglar when you broke in too.”
“Shut up,” I hissed at the sound of the front door swung open. Slipping my wallet from my jacket, I flipped it around with one hand in order to flash my keycard, waving it in front of her face as I whispered, “At least I have a key and I know who lives here.”
She opened her mouth, looking pissed, but I set a finger over her mouth to quiet her. We could argue later. Right now, I had to come up with a plan to save us both from the wrath of Lana, who I could hear tossing her car keys on a side table in the front room.
“Just so you know,” I murmured as quietly as possible, pocketing my wallet as I stepped closer. “I’m doing this for your own damn good.”
Her eyes flared with worry. “Wait. Doing what?”
In answer, I wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, hauled her up against me, and slanted my mouth across hers.
She muffled out a sound of surprise, which I ignored because holy shit.
What the hell had I just done? The kiss was supposed to be a cover, a ruse. Except, damn, a guy could get hooked on a mouth like Gabby’s.
Her lips were warm but tensed in shock, and they tasted like orange candy. Orange gum maybe, or orange-flavored Tic Tacs. I closed my eyes and sank against them as heat and need flooded my system.
Kissing her was like sipping on sweet nectar from the—
“What the hell is going on here?”
There was no way to fake the way Gabby and I jerked apart, since our surprise was one hundred percent genuine. I’d completely forgotten about my mother the moment I sank against Gabby.
She seemed similarly struck. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she gaped at me from shocked brown eyes.
I was still licking her taste from my bottom lip as I turned to confront the irate woman at the opening of the hall.
Seeing me, Lana only frowned harder before demanding, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Wow. Wasn’t she just the soul of motherly adoration?
I ran my hand across my mouth, still feeling th
at kiss, before answering, “I’m here to see you. Why else would I visit?”
“Hmm. You must want something.”
“Again,” I shot back just as drolly. “Why else would I visit?”
She sniffed before her judgmental gaze slid to Gabby. “Well, whatever you’re asking for, my answer is no. Now, who is she? And why is she wearing my dress?”
Lifting up Gabby’s hand as if to show her off, I smiled at her lovingly before announcing, “She’s my fiancée, and we’re getting married next week, so she needed a dress to wear to the ceremony. I thought we could borrow a little something from you.”
While Gabby’s mouth fell open as she gaped at me, Lana merely sniffed.
“Is she pregnant, or does she just need a green card?”
Gabby’s incredulous gaze shifted to Lana. “Excuse me?”
But I merely sighed, used to my mother. “Well, there went your invitation to the nuptials.”
“I’m heartbroken.” Lana transferred her glower from Gabby to me. “So, stop being an asshole and tell me what’s really going on here?”
“Asshole.” I snapped my fingers and turned to Gabby to point at her. “Now, that’s what people typically call me.”
She merely blinked at me, speechless.
I returned my attention to Lana. “You might not have noticed, because why would you care what I was wearing, but I happen to be dressed up too. I was on my way to the Halloween celebration at work, in fact. You remember that little shindig, right? The one you tried to sabotage and get canceled, but failed? Anyway, this stunning creature…” I opened my hand to put Gabby once again on display. “…is my date for the evening, and she needed something to wear that matches my costume. I figured you might have a dress or two to spare from that limitless closet of yours. But you weren’t home to ask, so we helped ourselves to your things. Not that the dress she picked is technically yours, though. Is it?” I lifted a censorious eyebrow. “Last time I saw that little number, it was property of JFI.” Pissed to learn that my own creation had ended up with her, I snarled, “Which is so interesting to me. Do you steal every prototype gown the company designs? Tsk, tsk. I wonder what Nash would think of that.”
“JFI is mine,” Lana bit out from between clenched teeth as she glared. “Not his. So every article of clothing made by the company belongs to me, and I don’t want her wearing my things.” Pointing at Gabby, she snarled, “Take it off.”
Eyes widening, Gabby clutched herself. “Right here?”
“Yes. Please,” I answered, grinning at her lasciviously.
After sending me an impatient glower, she turned to Lana. “I was just trying it on. My street clothes are—” She seemed to think about that a moment before glancing down at the bag in her arms. Then she lifted it. “They’re in here. I’ll just—I’ll go change back into them right now. Right away.”
“You do that,” Lana said, her eyes narrowed threateningly. Then she snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “And, you. Go with her. Don’t take your eyes off her. I don’t trust that whore anywhere alone in my apartment.”
“Easy,” I warned, sending her a hard stare. “You might want to watch how you address the mother of your future grandchildren.”
Next to me, Gabby choked out a sound of surprise.
Lana’s jaw bunched. “I do wish you’d stop joking like that.”
“But I’m having so much fun watching your face turn purple and swell with horrified indignation whenever I—”
“Come on,” Grabby growled, grabbing my arm and yanking me along behind her, forcing me to stop sparring with Lana.
Being led by her was incredibly erotic. Especially when she seemed pissed.
I couldn’t help but follow wherever she led.
Chapter 7
Gabby
I dragged the nameless man down the hall and away from that wicked witch of a woman before I tugged him into her bedroom.
“Holy shit!” I hissed, finally glancing back at him. “Future grandchildren? Are you saying that racist thing is your mother?”
He stepped up beside me and sent me an annoyed glance. “Not by choice, I assure you.”
“Wow.” I shook my head as I let go of his hand in order to hurry on toward the bathroom. “I mean, just wow. No wonder why I thought you were the devil. You’re Satan’s spawn.”
“Hmm. Original,” he murmured as he kept pace beside me, only to lift a finger in question. “Uh, where exactly are we going?”
“Shh.” I sent him a killer glare. “I left my clothes in her closet.”
“Well, well.” Stalling in the doorway of the closet as I entered so he could lean against the doorjamb, he eyed my hoodie and pants on the floor in the middle of the room with smug amusement. “Look who’s a little liar, after all.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, scowling at him. “I didn’t lie to you. Now turn your back so I can change.”
“Sorry.” Folding his arms stubbornly across his chest, he tossed me a mischievous grin. “But my mommy said not to take my eyes off you. You don’t want me to be a disobedient son, now do you?”
“Turn the fuck around,” I ordered.
“Ouch. Claws. Fine, be a spoilsport.” With a sigh, he slowly turned his back to me. “Just let me know when you need help with that zipper.”
“I got it up by myself, didn’t I?” Dropping the sack on the floor, I reached behind me and fumbled for the zipper’s pull tab. But when I got a hold of it and tugged, nothing budged. “Dammit.”
“The zipper’s stuck, isn’t it?”
“No,” I growled.
He sounded a little too cheerful when he sang, “I think it is.”
Oh my God, I swear, I was going to strangle this man before the night was over. “Will you just get over here and fix it then?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sounding all too pleased by my incensed frustration, he turned around. What was worse, his voice went silken soft when he stepped directly behind me and whispered, “Gladly,” in my ear. It caused my hormones to shudder in uninvited delight, and I most certainly did not want anything about this man to delight me.
But I drew in a sharp breath of surprised pleasure anyway when his fingers softly brushed the base of my neck as he worked to unsnag the cloth of the dress from the relentless teeth of its stupid zipper. When he finally freed it, he took his sweet time dragging it down my bare spine, exposing more of my flesh, one inch at a time.
Realizing I wasn’t wearing a bra and he could probably see the top of my plain, black cotton panties, I reached back and caught his hand in order to stop him, except he’d already lowered the zipper as far as it could go, and I only ended up tangling my fingers with his large, warm ones and causing a shiver to race across my shoulders before he slowly pulled away with a soft, amused hiss of breath.
The front of the dress started to sag down, so I rushed to clutch it to my chest as I glanced up over my shoulder to meet his gaze.
He said nothing, just looked into my eyes with an intensity that caused heat to pool strong and heavy in the pit of my stomach. Flickers of arousal sparked in the most embarrassing places.
Irritated by all the unwanted desire, I made my voice extra brisk and dismissive when I said, “Thank you.”
He blinked once as if jolted out of a trance. Then he finally reacted to my tone by flashing me a snarky smile that was more predatory than solicitous. “Oh no, sweetness. Thank you.”
Rolling my eyes, I twirled my finger. “Okay, stop smirking and turn back around again.”
His smirk only widened. “You sure there isn’t anything else I can help you remove?”
When his gaze moved to my hand I was using to grip the bit of cloth concealing my breasts, I bit out, “I think I got it from here.”
All the while, I prayed he couldn’t tell how hard my nipples were.
Eyes glittering with knowing relish, he merely murmured, “Your loss,” and turned away before sauntering back to the doorway where he negligently rested a shoulder to wait
on me.
I blew out an unsettled breath, then rushed at warp speed to change back into my things.
Once I was finished and pushing my feet into my shoes, I sounded a lot calmer, more professional, and in control of myself again when I said, “Here. Do you think you can hang this back up for—hey!”
My calm fled when I glanced his way and caught the reflection of his face in the vanity mirror of the bathroom that he was facing. At first, I was pissed to think he’d watched me change after all. But then I realized he’d averted his face, lowering it so he couldn’t see me through the mirror.
Raising his eyes now over my question, he murmured, “Hmm?”
When he noticed I was fully clothed, he turned and nodded without a word, taking the dress from my hands so he could hang it for me. I blinked, watching him, shocked he’d been so respectful as to give me my privacy when he easily could’ve watched me without me being aware of it. Huh. I hadn’t expected that from him.
After hooking the dress on its hanger, he squinted at me as if confused by my staring. But then he hitched his chin toward my trash sack. “What about that?”
“What?” I glanced down and cringed. Shit. “I guess I can’t very well carry this out of here now,” I grumbled, kneeling on the floor by the bag and pulling out my purse before setting it aside. “Not after I told your lovely mother I had my clothes in here. I’ll have to stash as much as I can on my person.”
Sighing regretfully, I dumped the rest of the contents on the floor. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to hide it all under my clothes; I’d have to leave some things behind.
Dammit. I’d been so close to getting everything I’d wanted for Miguel, too.
I glanced between my choices, deciding the bottle of soda would be the first thing to give up.
“What is your brother sick with?” Examining the pile as well, my fellow burglar—who’d ended up not quite being a burglar after all—knelt next to me, resting his forearms on his bent knees as he watched me deliberate what to eliminate next.