Barefoot with a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover #2)(24)

She jumped at a knock on the villa door. “Get a grip, Chess,” she mumbled, pushing off the railing, mentally preparing to deal with her grandfather. Gabe might have told Nino about the child, but the “my partner is an embezzler” vault should stay closed for now.


He knocked again, harder.

“I’m coming, Nino. No need to beat down the door.”

She waited for his typical response, a muttering in Italian or butchering of an English idiom, but there was nothing but silence from the other side of the door. Before she opened, she peeked through the peephole and sucked in a quiet breath. That was so not Nino.

Aw, man. This wasn’t fair. Even distorted by the lens, Malcolm James Harris, transient thief, was all dark and smoldery. How was a woman expected not to fall into bed with him…hours after they met?

Because he stole half a million dollars, that’s how. Imagine what he could do to a woman’s heart.

“I have your bag from the airport,” Mal said.

Well, she had wanted to talk to him alone, so this was as good a time as any. She tightened the robe again. She would have preferred to have real clothes on, though. And maybe a little makeup.

Not that she felt she needed to impress him, but she could use a dose of confidence in the face of his flawlessness.

Flawlessness? He was a thief with forty-two former addresses, one of them a prison cell.

“Let me in, Francesca.”

The demand, spoken low and slow and without any doubt that she would let him in, did stupid things to her stomach. She opened the door, and he rolled the suitcase in, following close behind. Stepping back, she looked up at him, self-consciously pulling the robe tie.

“Are you going to blush every time you see me? ’Cause it’s a dead giveaway.”

She was blushing? She touched her face as if she could wipe away the heat. “I’ve been out by the pool.”

Wordlessly, he nudged her into the hall toward the living area, carrying her suitcase for her. “We need to talk.”

“I know,” she said, a little ticked that he acted like it was his idea.

She dropped into one of the chairs, but he stayed standing, his torso blocking all the light from the patio. “You can sit down,” she said.

He wore baggy shorts that showed strong, muscular calves with a dusting of dark hair. Sneakers that were at the very least a size twelve and a plain white T-shirt that showed off the result of hours spent at the gym. Or maybe he’d pulled hard labor in prison.

He loomed over her. Too close. Too big. Too good in bed and how could she stand to not have that again, even just once?

“You want to know if I told him, don’t you?” he asked, obviously misreading her expression of horror at that last thought.

“What I want is for you to sit down. I know you didn’t tell him since your teeth are intact, you bear no bullet holes, and your arms and legs are still attached.”

He gave just enough of a smile to make her stomach do a somersault, and he did perch on the armrest of the plush sofa, taking away a little of his overpoweringness. A little. “Proof that our liaison is still a secret.”

“Liaison?” She almost choked on the word. “That’s a pretty fancy word for stupid.”

His jaw opened just a little in reaction. “You think it was?”

This time she did choke. “Well, it wasn’t smart.”

“Yeah? And what makes you think that?”

“First clue? Your midnight escape.”

“Okay, yes. Once you said your name and I put two and two together, I knew—”

“Gabe would beat your ass if he found out you seduced his sister.”

“Not what I was going to say. And newsflash: I’m not scared of your brother.”

She shot a dubious brow up.

“I’m not. That’s not why I left.”

“So did you leave because I didn’t have a half million dollars you could steal?”

For the first time, a flicker crossed his dark eyes. Shame. Remorse. Maybe a little regret. Enough to almost make her want to take back the comment.

“That didn’t take long,” he said softly.

She shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

He gave her a direct look. “Would you like to know why I left, or would you rather share all the details of my life you’ve found online?”

She felt her own flash of remorse for digging into his private life, but pushed it aside. “Yes, I’d like to know why you left when you found out who I was.”

“You said you were visiting your brother in Florida, so I figured I better get down here overnight, get my marching orders from Gabe, and get on the road before your flight landed. Save us both that awkward moment.”

She fought a smile. “When you find out the stranger you slept with is your mission partner. Definitely awkward.”

“So how do you want to play this?” he asked. “Our secret or not? It’s your call, Chessie.”

Chessie. So much for Francesca whispered in the heat of passion. She wished to hell that didn’t disappoint her, but it did. “I’m afraid it’s not our secret at all.”


He just looked at her. “Who did you tell?”

“No one, but I have to show you something.”

He looked surprised when she stood and walked to the bedroom door. She heard his footsteps behind her as she headed to the dresser, opened the top drawer, and picked up the cracked device she’d had in her jeans pocket. Holding it in her palm, she showed him.