The Beautiful Thief (Stolen Hearts #2)(9)

Blondie winced before he met her eyes. His irises were such a pale blue they almost appeared gray. His jaw showed the beginning signs of swelling, and she was sure that by tomorrow he’d look almost unrecognizable.

He was dressed in the standard henchman outfit of a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. It didn’t look natural on him. This was a guy meant for jeans and hard labor, not thousand-dollar suits. It probably didn’t help that this particular suit probably came off the bargain rack somewhere.

The rough blond stubble along his jaw just added to the disheveled image. She had a sudden memory of the last time she’d seen him. When he’d caught her in the basement and Isobel had appeared. He’d tried to keep her quiet so her mother wouldn’t know she was there. That stubble had rubbed against her neck as he’d warned her what would happen if she screamed.

But it hadn’t mattered.

“Hey.” She grabbed his probably sore jaw between her thumb and other four fingers and turned his head to face hers. “Tell me your name.”

Those cold gray eyes met hers. “I told you not to come back.”

So he could talk. Her free hand reached inside her clutch and pulled out the handgun. “I already proved I’m not afraid to use this. I need your name and Baldie’s name now.”

He opened his mouth to say something but started to cough instead. Little drops of blood shot out.

Melody jumped away, narrowly missing the small red projectiles. He was going to ruin the bedspread. She ran to the bathroom once more and pulled all the towels off the rack hanging above the toilet and when she went back to the bed, she set the towels around the man.

Now that she thought about it, she could afford any damage fees they charged her. And it wasn’t as if Blondie was going to report her to the cops, but instincts were hard to push away. In her old life, one tried their best to keep blood off the bed sheets.

One more reminder of how much things had changed.

He started to cough again, and she held the water out to him. “This is the last time I ask nice. Tell me the name of the man you worked with.”

He pushed the water away. “I don’t know what’s in that.”

She rolled her eyes. Really? If she wanted to cause him harm, she didn’t need to poison him. She brought the glass to her lips and tilted her head back as she downed half the contents in a few deep gulps.

She held the glass out to him once more and to her surprise, Blondie pushed himself up, taking the glass away from her, and set it on the nightstand. Right as the realization that he wasn’t nearly as injured as she thought hit her, so did the dizziness.

“Wait... I....” The entire room spun around her and she tried to blink to clear her mind. She reached out to hold onto anything steady, but what she grabbed was warm. She opened her eyes again to see her hand was on Blondie’s shoulder. She jerked away and stood, but the quick motion quickly proved to be a bad idea. She was still in her heels and she started to tumble over before strong arms came around her waist and caught her.

Melody started to push away, but her muscles weren’t working anymore. “What did you do?” she asked, but as her speech started to slur, it sounded more like, “Whadichodo?”

His palm skimmed down her arm until he could pluck the gun from her hand. The gun she forgot she was holding. She frowned as she followed his movements as he set the gun down out of her reach. “You never should’ve done this,” he said as he turned with her in his arms.

Never should’ve done this? Did he think she had a choice? “No, I need to know....”

He turned with her in his arms and led her back to the bed, their roles now reversed. With one hand at the nape of her neck, he placed her gently so her head was on the pillow and then, one ankle at a time, he arranged her legs too.

No, no, no, no.... “Please,” she managed.

Blondie sat next to her on the bed. He stroked the side of her face with his fingertips and ran his hand down until his palm was on her collarbone and his thumb was right at the base of her neck. As though denying his actions, he said, “I didn’t kill you before. Not about to start now.”

He thought she was begging for her life. “Tell me who he is.” Her body now felt as though it were ten times heavier and each word was a struggle. “Tell me who killed Isobel.”

He didn’t answer her, though. Instead, he kept his hand right where it was as his thumb gently stroked the soft skin of her neck. “I knew you were going to be trouble.” Then he leaned in so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek. She could feel unconsciousness pulling at her, at war with the fear and adrenaline demanding she stay awake and fight.

Then he whispered against her ear. “I warned you once and you ignored me. This is a second warning. Ignore me again and you’ll regret it. Isobel is gone. You don’t need to suffer the same fate.”

The last thing she remembered before she finally slipped into unconsciousness was the soft kiss he pressed to her forehead, belying the words he’d whispered.



Melody’s eyes snapped open and she bolted up in bed, the headache suddenly catching up with her and pounding against her skull as she looked around the room. But there was no sign of the man who had so recently been there. Recently? She looked at the clock, which read nine thirty-three. Judging from the sunlight edging in from behind the curtains, that meant nine in the morning. Whatever he’d slipped into the water had lasted a while.