Red-Hot & Reckless

by Tori Carrington

  Then she’d left.

  His numb brain seemed incapable of wrapping itself around that fact.

  Oh, he remembered her gathering up Cat, picking up her backpack and walking out the door, murmuring an apology he couldn’t decipher right now, but it was as if the information had yet to thoroughly sink through his shell-shocked state.

  Was it possible to love someone you couldn’t trust?

  Outside the open window a horn honked and a native New Yorker shouted at another one, but it all seemed very far away somehow. As if he wasn’t a part of the picture, but rather a preoccupied observer.

  “I thought…well, it doesn’t matter what I thought now, does it?” Nicole had said, her beautiful face drawn into long lines.

  The problem was, it did matter.

  If it were true, if she hadn’t been the one behind the disappearance of his mother’s jewelry, then she would have defended herself more, wouldn’t she? Not just look at him with such an expression of guilt—or could it have been disappointment?—that his gut had wrenched.

  Finally his muscles responded to a command. He pushed from the bed then turned to stare down at it. Flashes of the hours he and Nicole had spent right there whooshed through his mind.

  He grabbed the pillows first, stripping off the cases that smelled like her fresh hair then tossing them to the floor. Next came the sheets. He ripped the top sheet off to the left, the bottom sheet to the right until he stared down at the naked mattress, the action seeming to spur the need for even greater action. He threw the bottom sheet down, and was about to follow with the top when he found himself instead drawing the stretch of cotton to his nose. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Nicole’s unique musky scent filled his senses and filled him with a remorse so intense he wanted to shout out.

  Damn it! Why couldn’t he have chosen a nice girl to fall in love with? From the minute he’d knocked on her hotel room door in Baltimore, he’d known Nicole would be trouble. She inspired him to do things he would never even have thought of before. Her free, reckless spirit had sucked him in, making him crave something different, something wild. Made him want nobody but her.

  He let the sheet drop from his hand, watching as it slowly drifted to cover the small pile of other linens at his feet.

  The damnable thing about it was that he’d gone into all this with his eyes wide open. He’d known who she was. What she did for a living. He’d known that she breezed in and out of relationships with the staying power of an easterly wind. He’d known that her code of ethics was unlike anything he’d encountered before and, while they made a strange kind of sense, they were the polar opposite of his own beliefs. He’d known from the get-go that anything more than sex would be impossible for them.

  Her stealing his mother’s jewelry had been but a reminder.

  He gathered up the sheets and carried them to the trash can where he stood stuffing them inside until only a corner hung out after he closed the lid.

  But if he’d hoped the action would make him feel better, he was sadly mistaken.

  The tick tock of his windup alarm clock on his bedside table penetrated his clouded mind and he slowly turned his head to look at it.

  After eight.

  The realization sunk in.

  After eight.

  Shit. He was supposed to meet the private detective he’d hired to stake out the Johnstone’s at eight.

  Feeling like a man emerging from a fire, he grabbed his jacket and rushed for the door. He could only hope the intangible burn scars wouldn’t take too long to heal. And pray that one day the woman who had branded his heart with her dark and restless spirit would become nothing but a distant memory.

  He pulled open the door to stare into the face of his sister Athena who had her hand up about to knock.

  “Holy crap,” she said, putting the same hand over her heart. “You scared me, Alex.”

  Alex could count the times his sister had come to the loft on one hand. Usually they met up at their parents’ house and communicated via phone calls. That she was standing there now indicated the importance of her visit.

  Remembering what Nicole had told him the night before made him take pause.

  Athena smiled. “Got a minute, big brother?”

  No, he really didn’t, but he figured he should carve one out for her. “Let me just make a quick call.” He strode toward the kitchen. “Come in.”

  He listened as she closed the door behind her while he punched in the numbers for the P.I.’s cell phone.

  A couple of minutes later, after trying no fewer than three times and receiving nothing but ceaseless rings and voice mail, he dropped the receiver into its cradle and stood motionless.

  “Problems?” Athena asked.

  “Huh?” Alex turned to find her sitting on the chrome stool across the counter. The same stool Nicole had used only that morning.

  He winced. Had it really been only a few hours ago that he and Nicole had sat right there in the warm pre-dawn glow talking like a couple of horny old married people?

  “Are those sheets?”

  Alex focused on his sister. She was staring at his garbage can. “What’s on your mind, Athena?”

  She blinked at him in mock innocence. “What, no coffee? Soda? Something to offer a guest you don’t see every day?”

  Alex opened the refrigerator then thudded down a can of beer. “Talk.”

  She made a face. “Gee, thanks, Alex. Mom would be proud.”

  Remembering his mother’s call earlier, he winced. “Is this about Mom’s jewelry?”

  Athena took a sip of beer then grimaced. “You know about that already?”

  He nodded. “Mom called me earlier.”

  “Mom?”

  Alex ran his hand restlessly through his hair. “Look, Athena, if you’re just going to repeat everything I say, then this really doesn’t qualify as a conversation.” He rested his hands against the countertop. “If this is about…well, you…um…”

  Athena stared at him blankly.

  “You know, the fact that you haven’t brought a boyfriend home. Um, because, well, you don’t have a boyfriend, you have a…”

  Realization backlit her dark eyes. “You can’t even say it, can you?”

  He pushed from the counter. “Say what?”

  “Homosexual. Lesbian. Either one would apply.”

  He grimaced. “Of course I can say the words. I’m just not used to saying them in connection to my own sister, that’s all.”

  Athena ran her thumbnail the length of the beer can. “I know. Mom’s going to have a cow when I tell her, isn’t she?”

  Recalling that’s exactly the way he had described the situation, Alex opened the refrigerator and grabbed another can of beer. He cracked it open and took a long drag.

  “Anyway, that’s not what I’m doing here. I mean, it’s good that you know and everything, but it’s not like I’ve been keeping anything a secret. I just don’t go around saying things like ‘my lover says’ or pretending that once the cat is finally out of the bag everything will be all right and Jane and I will be invited to Christmas dinner together.” She shook her head. “I’ve pretty much accepted that isn’t going to happen, so what’s the rush?”

  Alex’s gaze was steady. “So what are you doing here?”

  “To discuss the plans for Mom and Dad’s thirty-fifth wedding anniversary party, of course.” She pushed the beer away. “But I thought you knew that.”

  Alex wasn’t getting it. “What does Mom and Dad’s anniversary have to do with Mom’s jewelry?”

  Athena looked at him now as if he’d lost it. “Because I took it to have some of the loose strands repaired and have the set cleaned, that’s why. You know, as part of their gift.”

  Alex’s head spun and he had to grab onto the edge of the counter to keep from falling over.

  “What?” he whispered. “You took the jewelry?”

  “Of course I did, silly. Who did you think…” Her words drifted off but her expressio
n made it clear that she knew exactly what he’d thought. So very wrongly thought.

  He’d accused Nicole of a crime she didn’t commit.

  “Oh, no, Alex, you didn’t?” Athena whispered. “You didn’t think that Nic took the stuff, did you?”

  His jaw was clenched so tightly he thought it might crack. “What in the hell was I supposed to think, Athena? Mom calls today frantic that her jewelry’s been stolen. The last time she saw it was two days ago. And who was the only stranger in the house between then and now?”

  Athena smacked her hand to her forehead. “Oh my God, no.” She stared at him. “You didn’t outright accuse her of stealing the pieces, did you?”

  His silence said more than he ever could at that moment.

  “Jesus, Joseph and Mary, Alex! What were you thinking?”

  She got up from the stool and began to pace back and forth across the loft.

  Alex’s voice was a fierce growl. “Why didn’t you say something about this before?”

  She stopped to stare at him. “Oh, no. Don’t you even try to pin this on me, big brother. I’ve been trying to hook up with you for the past week to talk about this. It’s you who’s been too busy to talk. If you had slowed down to the speed limit, maybe none of this would have happened.” She began pacing again, then stopped. “What would ever make you think Nicole would do something like that?”

  Alex downed the rest of the beer he held then stared at the can, surprised he’d drunk the whole thing. “Stay out of this, Athena. There are things you don’t know about.”

  She crossed her arms, looking as formidable as their mother ever could. “Try me.”

  He rounded the counter and faced off with her. “She’s a damn professional thief, Athena.”

  Her eyes widened.

  He nodded. “That’s right. She steals for a living. And one of her favorite targets is jewelry.” He didn’t tell her that it was Tiffany jewelry because that would only serve to prove that she would never have targeted his mother’s pieces anyway.

  “I don’t believe you,” his sister said adamantly.

  “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter what you believe because facts are facts.”

  She crossed the few feet separating them and poked her finger into his chest. “And the most important fact in this whole equation is that Nicole was the best damn thing that ever happened to you, Alex.”

  They stood staring at each other like that for long moments, neither of them blinking, backing down or adding anything.

  Then finally Athena sighed. “I knew you were thick-headed, Alex, but I would never have guessed you were this stupid.”

  She picked up her purse from the counter and headed for the door.

  Alex stood rooted to the spot for the second time that day, watching a woman walk away from him, powerless to stop her.

  He couldn’t be sure how long he’d stood there like that, staring at the empty space between him and the door, but finally his blood began flowing again. He grabbed the doorknob.

  “Damn. What have I done?” Then he slammed the door behind him.

  11

  ALEX JUST LOST the best damn thing he’s ever had in his life.

  Nicole methodically grabbed the rungs on the fire escape that belonged to the building across the back alley from the auction house, her destination the roof.

  That he’ll ever have, she added for good measure.

  Only her heart wasn’t rallying to the cry. The small but important organ felt heavier than her bodyweight squared and she was amazed that she could move at all.

  One rung at a time.

  Nicole’s black Lycra pants allowed her the mobility she needed, while the close-fitting long-sleeved top covered her pale skin and allowed her to blend in with the darkness as she climbed up the side of the building. As with everything else, the key to success was speed. And since she was climbing the fire escape from the opposite well-lit street side, the risk of being seen was high, despite the late hour. Say a neighbor from one of the apartments across the street spotted her. They would look, but if they so much as blinked, she would already be gone, making them question their own eyesight.

  As for the residents in the building itself…well, if anyone spotted her from there, she could always play like she was the spurned lover of one of the upper-floor occupants back to get her things and, shhh, could they please not say anything?

  She hoisted herself up to crouch on the iron-wrought steps then quickly ascended the three flights to the roof as quietly as possible. Only when she leapt over the brick and concrete lip did she allow herself to take a breath.

  The only problem was that when she did, images of Alex’s accusing face filled her mind.

  “I want you to give me the jewelry now, Nicole.”

  Naturally, she’d thought he’d been referring to the Tiffany pieces. He’d seemed puzzled when she’d said she’d delivered them back to Mrs. Nessbaum’s doorstep herself first thing that morning.

  But he hadn’t been referring to that jewelry. Rather, he’d been talking about a set important to his mother that had come up missing from his family’s house yesterday.

  Nicole slid to sit on the roof and straightened her supple black suede boots. The louse thought she’d stolen his mother’s jewelry.

  What kind of luck did she have that something would come up missing while she was present and she’d had nothing to do with it? The odds were astronomical. And seemed to reinforce her earlier fear that there was no way anything permanent could work between her and Alex. Only that fear was no longer a fear. It was a heartaching reality.

  And, oh boy, did her heart ever ache in a way that it never had before. It choked off her breath and nearly paralyzed her with the intensity of its slicing pain.

  She swallowed hard. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice told her that Alex’s assumption was only to be expected. After all, she was a thief and when something popped up missing, it made sense that she would be the first person looked at.

  Still…last night they had experienced so much together. Come together in a way that was so honest, so moving she didn’t think she’d ever be the same again.

  Then there had been the talk with her father. A conversation that had ignited a hope she couldn’t remember ever feeling before. Hope that she and Alex could have more than just today.

  A hope that was crushed the moment she looked into his handsome face and saw the mistrust in his eyes, the disenchantment bracketing his full mouth and the unbending stiffness of his posture.

  Nicole rested the back of her head against the short wall of the roof then closed her eyes. One of the first rules you learned when you chose a life of crime was to know when you should cut your losses and run. She’d known standing there in Alex’s kitchen, staring at him in sadness and shock, that nothing she could have said or done would have changed his mind.

  But nothing had prepared her for the staggering loss.

  Loss of hope.

  Loss of Alex.

  She lifted a gloved hand to push her hair back and found her fingers shaking. Not good.

  The problem was her exterior was mirroring the condition of her interior, her shattered, shaking emotional state. While she might look all business in her dark cat suit, the truth was she wanted to blend with the darkness and disappear altogether.

  A dull clang sounded from the direction of the alley across the roof. She traversed the gravel-covered roof-top in a crouched position, checking to make sure her pistol was still tucked into the back of her waistband, then grabbed the low wall and slowly moved to look over the side.

  A truck had pulled into the alley right outside the auction house. Benniman Moving Co. was stenciled on the side. She tried but failed to get a look at the driver. She’d bet dollars to donuts that there was no such moving company. Or if there was, they’d report one of their trucks stolen first thing in the morning. Either way, that meant the people who had driven it into the alley were more than likely the thieves she’d predicted would hit t
onight. A band of thieves led by the untouchable Dark Man.

  She tugged her gloves on tighter.

  Untouchable until tonight…

  ALEX SAT in the front seat of the unmarked van staring at the Johnstone’s mammoth Greco-Roman-style house until his eyes hurt.

  P.I. Kylie Capshaw uncapped a thermos and took a drink straight from the source rather than pouring the contents into the cap cup. She held it out to him. “Want some?”

  Alex looked at the pretty blonde. Really looked at her for the first time. He’d been contracting with her company for the past five months, but there had been little excuse for personal contact.

  He’d guess Kylie was a couple of years shy of thirty, but her blue-green eyes seemed better suited to someone at least twice her age.

  They’d been sitting outside the Johnstone’s empty house—he’d known they were in Europe for an extended holiday, thus the reason he’d chosen their house as ground zero—waiting for D.M. to hit for the past three hours straight and aside from some preliminary professional exchanges at the onset, he and Kylie had barely said two words to each other. Of course, Alex was preoccupied with thoughts of another woman, and with every minute that ticked by on his watch, he felt worse and worse.

  His sister had taken the jewelry to be cleaned.

  He still couldn’t believe it.

  Shit.

  But what upset him more was that Nicole hadn’t offered up more than a token fight. She’d merely collected her things and left.

  What did that say about her? And what did it say about him and where their relationship might have been heading?

  Kylie began to take back the proffered thermos. He reached for it. “Thanks.”

  He could use some coffee right about now. Something, anything to kick-start his slowly beating heart.

  He coughed when he found himself swallowing more than coffee.

  Kylie chuckled quietly.

  “What’s in this?”

  She accepted the thermos back and handed him a napkin. “Oh, about one cup of coffee and three cups of Bailey’s Irish Cream.”