The Dangerous Thief (Stolen Hearts #3)(35)

“But in your head you call yourself something, right?”

“I think mercenary is the most accurate term.”

“And have you killed people for money?”

“Willa,” he said in a warning tone.

“I won’t judge you. I’ve already seen you kill someone.”

That was definitely something he didn’t want coming up in conversation. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“James, I want you to know that—”

James got up and in one quick motion covered her mouth with his. He couldn’t give Willa answers right now, but he could give her one hell of a distraction. “You remember when you said I could do whatever I wanted with your mouth?” he asked between kisses down her neck and in the valley between her breasts.

She curled her fingers in his hair as she rubbed herself against him. “Umm hmm,” she murmured.

“It’s about time I show you what I can do with mine.”





Willa looked around her kitchen. Cinnamon. She knew there was cinnamon in there somewhere. She had been through the entire pantry and she’d found about three containers of whole cinnamon sticks, but not one thing of ground cinnamon. What the hell did she need that many containers of whole cinnamon sticks for?

She tugged the barstool to the other cabinet and climbed up as she dug deeper into the pantry, looking for any sign of the little metal container.

“Anything I can help with?”

She jumped at the sudden question from James. She narrowly avoided hitting her head on the top of the pantry and looked down at where he stood beneath her. His hair was still damp from his shower and there were a few little droplets of water on his shoulders. She had to bite back the urge to lick them off. “I’m good,” she said with false enthusiasm.

James looked decidedly unconvinced. “Want to tell me what you’re doing up there?”

“Trying to find the cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon? Why?”

She let out a sigh as she went back to digging in the cabinet. “I’m making my super-secret French toast recipe.”

“Super-secret?”

“Orange zest and orange-flavored liqueur. Your tongue will never know what hit it.”

“So it’s not so secret.”

“I just assumed I could trust you.” She poked her head out of the cabinet. “I can trust you with my super-secret French toast recipe, can’t I?”

He held up his hands. “Hey. Your secret is safe with me. Is this a family recipe?”

“No. Martha Stewart. I might be exaggerating when I call it a secret recipe.” She was just going back into the cabinet when she saw the bright red cap. Boom! Success! She pulled out the cinnamon victoriously before she hopped off the stool and went back to where she was prepping everything. The eggs, bread, and other various ingredients were all set out.

“You don’t have to do anything fancy. I’m good with just eggs.” James leaned on the island.

“It’s only polite that after a night of good sex, the hostess provides an amazing breakfast. That’s common knowledge.”

“You do this for all the guys who stay over?”

She looked at him from narrowed eyes. “Is that your way of asking if I sleep around a lot?”

A muscle in the back of his jaw ticked. “Not exactly. But since you brought it up....”

She raised a brow. James, asking personal information about her? Things really had changed in such a short period of time. “Well, the number is small enough that I haven’t lost track and big enough that I’m not telling you after our first date.” She frowned. “After no dates? Does having sex one time count as a date?”

“Multiple times,” pointed out James.

“Multiple times then. Either way, there are some things about me that will just have to remain mysterious, Mr. Badass Mercenary.”

He didn’t seem amused, but she swore the corner of his mouth almost tugged into a smile.

Before she could give him any more crap, the elevator doors opened and Willa stiffened. She knew that Toni had access to her apartment, but she was so used to living alone that people coming and going was unsettling.

She went to go see who it was, but James held up a hand to signal her to stay where she was as he moved silently toward the entryway. A few seconds later, she heard his annoyed voice saying, “A phone call wouldn’t hurt.”

“Did I interrupt you two, Casanova?” Willa recognized Toni’s voice. Willa wore some loose blue-striped pajama pants and a tight tank top. She would prefer to have a sweater on if she was having company, but considering Toni didn’t announce herself, she’d just have to deal with Willa’s braless self. She left the kitchen to say hello and froze when she realized Toni wasn’t alone. She was with an uptight-looking man—Scott Hart, she assumed—and two new people.

Willa froze and wrapped her arms over her chest. She could go out in the skimpiest of skimpy dresses and feel utterly confident, but somehow the fact that she’d had a night full of sex made even this simple outfit seem dirty.

It didn’t help that the way Toni was looking between her and James, the woman knew exactly what had happened.

The two new people were both tall, dark, and beautiful. The woman had long, black hair that was neatly trimmed and hit her back in a ponytail. The man had a lean strength that wasn’t hidden by his clothes. He was just about as tall as James, with silky black hair. Although the girl probably dyed hers, his jet black was probably due to some Italian heritage. From the way they stood next to each other and the man hovered over her ever so subtly, Willa was guessing they were a couple. It was a noticeable difference from the way Scott and Toni seemed to keep as much distance between them as possible.