The Beautiful Thief (Stolen Hearts #2)(8)

Thinking about what she saw, that made sense. He bet a normal guy who got a beating like that would barely know his own name. Adam wasn’t normal, though, and Melody was about to find that out.

But the longer she stayed, the greater the chance that Ike or Jadon would discover who she really was. So Adam kept quiet as Melody led him onto the elevator. He tried not to lean too much weight on her. She had already proved herself to be stronger than he expected when she pulled him up. No matter how strong she was, she was still shorter than him—even in heels—and with his arm around her, he could feel exactly how small she was. Hell, he still remembered how small she’d looked while cowering away from him back in San Francisco.

He closed his eyes tightly and pushed the memory away. He’d welcome death gladly, but he didn’t want to think about what he’d done. The elevator dinged as they hit the ground level and Melody was pulling him forward. Even though he wasn’t in as bad a condition as she apparently thought, he still wasn’t doing great and tripped over his own feet as she helped him through the lobby.

She pushed a hand against his chest to steady him, and he stared at the delicate fingers and the perfect manicure. Black nail polish. His angel had a bit of an edge... and she was touching him. He was so confused, but didn’t want to fight this. Melody was warm and she smelled good, like soap and flowers and just a hint of woman. The fact that he wasn’t dead was a plus too.

There were cabs lined up outside, ready and waiting to pick up guests leaving the big event, so she shuffled him right into the first one waiting. He winced as he had to bend and put more pressure on his ribs, and then leaned his head back against the seat as Melody told the driver to take them to the Congress Hotel.

As the car took off, he knew he was kind of in the clear. He was away from Ike, away from that shithole of a job. He still didn’t know what Melody wanted from him, though.... He cracked an eye open and saw her looking at him suspiciously. Anything either of them said would be overheard by the driver, so they both remained quiet. She looked as if she was measuring him up, getting ready for battle. She couldn’t still be planning to kill him. There were too many cameras and witnesses that had seen them leave together. Though considering the risk she was taking by even being alone with him now, he guessed she didn’t really give a fuck about witnesses right now.

She never took her eyes off him during the ride. Maybe she was regretting not searching him for weapons. The other security guys had taken his sidearm and one of his blades, but he still had a few tricks up his sleeve, literally.

It was a short drive to the hotel and Melody quickly paid the driver. “Can you make it out on your own?” The question was short and clipped.

He could feel his mental faculties returning more and more by the second. A few minutes ago, he’d been completely ready to die, and even though he still felt like a son of a bitch for what had happened to Melody, his desire to live had suddenly returned.

So instead of answering her, he blinked a few times as though her words had never really registered. She cursed under her breath before she once again wrapped her arm around him and awkwardly pulled him out of the cab. The driver was quiet, probably used to half-passed out people being dragged out. Adam hadn’t gotten a look at himself in the mirror, but he didn’t feel any blood. The bruising and swelling might take a few hours to truly catch up with him.

Once they were on the street, it was his chance. He could take Melody out in seconds and be gone before she even knew what hit her. But then the breeze hit and once more he caught her scent. It was so... intoxicating that he seemed to lose himself for a moment and closed his eyes as he savored it. When he opened his eyes again, they were in the lobby of the historic hotel.

Maybe he was more injured than he thought.

He wasn’t about to knock Melody out in the middle of a lobby with multiple people around. So it looked as though he was about to find out what she had planned for him. But now that he was back to himself, would he be able to do what needed to be done if she really had him cornered? Was he capable of killing Melody Murray?





Melody led the oversized lunk to the bed. He wasn’t super tall, just over six feet, but the man was all muscle. A trait that had terrified her back in San Francisco when he’d been one of the only things between her and freedom.

She wanted to gently place him on the mattress, but he fell in an ungraceful lump, groaning as he landed. A brief moment of shock filled her as she realized that Blondie really was there. In her bed and at her mercy....

She took a deep breath and backed away. He looked as if he was going to pass out any minute now and she couldn’t let him go unconscious until she got what she needed from him. There wasn’t much she knew about interrogations, but she was aware that intimidation wasn’t her strong suit.

Could she pull off being a “good cop”? She backed away and took in the scene. The bed took up most of the hotel room, and Blondie seemed to fill it completely up, even though it was a king. His eyes were open but they didn’t seem to be seeing anything. He groaned once more and she ran to the sink right outside the bathroom and filled one of the small glasses with water before setting it next to him on the nightstand. Okay, there. Now she was nice. Now she could try to get him to tell her what she needed to know.

There were no guests who could walk in on them at any moment. There were no thugs who could come back to finish the job they’d started on Blondie. It was just her and him, and she wasn’t giving him a break until he told her what she needed to know. “Tell me your name,” she ordered.