Mine to Crave (Mine #4)(10)

His head tilted a bit as he studied her. “You think I’m going to let you get away?”

“I haven’t done anything to you. So I carry a lock picking set. Big deal.” She shrugged. “I don’t like to get locked out—”

He laughed at that. It wasn’t the hard laugh from before. It was more surprised, more real.

“I’ve taken nothing from you,” Jasmine said, knowing that she sounded like a broken record. He had no idea how much that non-theft was going to cost her. But she was trying to be good. It was a fairly new thing for her. “And I won’t steal anything, but I am leaving.” She turned, took some fast steps, and reached for the doorknob.

“You planted the smoke bombs.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She didn’t look back.

“You’re a thief…”

“I took nothing from you.” She had the door open and a quick peek showed her that—thank goodness—there wasn’t a whole security team waiting to drag her away in that little hallway.

She stepped over the threshold.

“I’m not just going to let you slip away.”

Try to stop me. “It’s better this way. Meeting you…it certainly was interesting.” Scary, too.

She marched forward. Her heels sank into the carpet. She thought he’d grab her again. He didn’t.

She didn’t break and run, though she sure wanted to do that. She walked away, real nice and slow, totally not like a thief running in the night.

Even though he was right. That was exactly what she was.

Probably all she’d ever be.

But I didn’t steal from him.

And she wasn’t even sure why she hadn’t.

Jasmine’s fingers reached out for the elevator. She’d memorized his security code when he typed it in earlier, so getting those doors to open wasn’t hard.

Now to just get out of here…

***

Even before Jasmine had left the room, Drake had a security team trailing her. “Watch her,” he barked into his phone. A few clicks of his computer had given him access to the club’s security footage. Her image was currently on his screen. He was following her, without stepping a single foot outside of his sanctuary.

Did the woman really think he’d just let her vanish? No, not happening.

But he had wanted privacy to view the video footage…and he’d also wanted to see just where her grand exit would take the lovely Jasmine. Maybe she would lead him straight to a partner that she had waiting in the wings…

“Keep a tail on her until I say otherwise,” Drake added. This wasn’t over. But he was willing to give the woman a false sense of security…the better to make her vulnerable for his attack.

Betrayal.

It burned like acid within him. He’d been betrayed too many times in the past. Another pretty face, another woman ready to wreck him.

Jasmine wasn’t running away. No blind flight for freedom from her. Instead, she was strolling slowly, appearing to take her sweet time as she left him.

He tapped on his keyboard again, accessing the security footage for this room. He rewound the images, determined to see exactly what Jasmine had been doing in his office. He wasn’t a fool—he’d deliberately started the recording as soon as he’d left his office. A quick tap on his phone had triggered the hidden camera.

Jasmine filled his computer screen. In that video, she walked toward his desk. She opened the drawers. Pulled out the package that his buddy Noah had sent to him. Stared at the photograph.

Her expression tightened as she stared at that image, and longing flashed in her eyes.

What the hell?

Jasmine put the photo and the package back in the drawer. She pulled out one of her flash drives. She pushed it into the computer.

She glanced back at the shut drawer.

She pulled the photo out for a second time.

Then she gave a hard, negative shake of her head.

She yanked out her flash drive. Didn’t access any of his files.

She didn’t steal from me.

In the video, Jasmine rose quickly. She hurried toward the door—and when she realized he’d locked her in, the woman used her lock-picking set and had that door open in seconds.

But she hadn’t been able to flee. He’d been there.

Frowning now, Drake opened his desk and pulled out the package Noah had sent to him.

Both of his best friends were married now. Both claimed to be deliriously happy.

Both were fools, of course. And they were too obsessed with their women. They’d risked their lives for their ladies, and Drake had seen their desperation.

Noah York and Trace Weston. His friends in battle. His friends through blood and death.

They were smiling in the picture. He was, too, and for once, the smile hadn’t been forced.

His gaze swept the image. Just what had Jasmine seen in that picture? Whatever the hell it was, she’d changed her plans because of it.

He had no doubt that she’d come to the Arrow in order to steal secrets from him. Intel. But she’d left with nothing.

The phone on his desk began to vibrate. Noah grabbed it and put it to his ear. “Where is she?” Drake said because he’d recognized Chad’s number on the screen.

He heard the head of security inhale sharply. Oh, the hell, no.