Steal Me

by Lauren Layne

  He made a sound of guttural pleasure as he sank all the way into her. Then his mouth brushed hers softly, surprising her with the gentleness before his hands found hers and wrapped them around his neck. “Hold on.”

  He took her roughly, and she relished every moment, loved the agony when he pulled out, loved even more the ecstasy when he pushed back in.

  His pace quickened, his fingers greedy where they dug into her thighs. “Maggie, I can’t—I—it’s…”

  She scraped her nails down his back then, and when he came with a quiet roar, Maggie wrapped her arms around his back, holding his large body to her own soft one.

  When his breathing finally slowed, he lifted off her, turning away before heading toward the small bathroom connected to his room.

  He didn’t glance back at her.

  Maggie’s pleasure slowly gave way to discomfort.

  What now?

  Gingerly she sat up, glancing around until she spotted her shirt and reached for it. Another scan of the darkened room showed her panties and bra scattered across the floor.

  She bit her lip, scooting toward the edge of the bed, realizing she was going to have to wander around his bedroom, picking up her various clothing items like a…like a…she didn’t even know what, but it didn’t feel good.

  Maggie swallowed. This was what she got for thinking she could do casual.

  Anthony Moretti had known her better than she’d known herself. She didn’t like this at all. She wanted cuddles and postcoital affection, or at least conversation, and he’d all but told her that he wasn’t the man for that—

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  She glanced up to see him standing unabashedly naked in the doorway.

  Maggie held up her ratty bra in explanation.

  He was across the room in two steps, tossing the ugly garment aside. His arm around her waist was firm as he pushed her back toward the bed, using his other hand to yank back the covers. “I’m in charge, remember?”

  She licked her lips, thoroughly confused. “I thought that was only in bed.”

  “Which is exactly where we’re going,” he said.

  He slid beneath the covers, scooting to the middle of the bed before looking up at her expectantly.

  She stared at him. “You want me to…stay?”

  He lifted an eyebrow.

  Her heart swelled. Yes, actually swelled, and she didn’t care that that wasn’t an actual medical thing.

  “Okay, but can I borrow a T-shirt, or—”

  He gripped her wrist, tugging her forward into the bed.

  Okay then. They were sleeping naked, apparently.

  “Bossy,” she muttered as she rolled to her side and felt him curl up behind her, the best Big Spoon ever.

  “You once said you liked me bossy,” he whispered.

  “So I did,” she murmured, all but purring at the warmth of his big arm around her.

  “Maggie,” he whispered, just as her eyes started to close.

  “Hmm?”

  He was silent for a long moment. Then, “Nothing. Go to sleep.”

  So she did. But in her dreams, he finished that sentence with something else entirely.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Are we sure this will work?”

  Anthony shot an annoyed look at the speaker, a cocky-looking FBI agent whose name he’d already forgotten, but Ray Mandela beat Anthony to the setdown.

  “Nothing is ever sure when we’re dealing with known criminals,” Ray snapped.

  Anthony’s hands were on his hips as he made what had to have been his hundredth pace across the floor of the office building they’d taken over for what the other guys had started referring to as “Sting Smiley.”

  The neon lights and deserted cubicles were depressing as hell, and the whole place carried the faint smell of tuna, but the floor was vacant, which was ideal.

  Even more important, it had an unobstructed view of Bryant Park, where Eddie Hansen would hopefully be coming to meet Maggie in—Anthony glanced at his watch—twenty minutes.

  Vincent appeared by his side. As a homicide investigator in another precinct, he absolutely shouldn’t be here, but Mandela had become resigned to the fact that Morettis traveled in packs, and said nothing. And everyone else was likely too wary of Vin’s ever-present glower to even suggest he should be elsewhere.

  “She’ll be fine,” Vin said gruffly. “Jill’s down there. So is Luc.”

  So were a dozen of Anth’s best men and women, but he felt better knowing that his family was surrounding Maggie, and could be at her side in seconds.

  He only wished he could be. Being up here, watching it all go down…he felt helpless.

  “You think he’ll show?” Vincent asked, for Anth’s ears only.

  Anthony’s shoulder lifted. “Hard to say. Maggie doesn’t have his phone number or current address, but she’s pretty confident that one of the people she reached out to will know how to contact him.”

  That had been one of the worst parts of all this. Forcing her to delve back into a life she’d obviously tried to put behind her.

  No, that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the nagging suspicion that she was doing it for him.

  It didn’t feel good.

  But the sex…oh God. The sex had felt great—more than great.

  Everything that happened after though…

  The morning after their night together, he’d come out of the shower to a sleeping Maggie. And had wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with her, when what he’d needed to do was head into the office and tell that the opp was a go.

  And then it had gotten worse, because she opened her eyes. Smiled at him.

  His heart had felt both too big and too small in that moment. Maggie Walker’s smile had always gotten under his skin. Maggie Walker’s smile while naked in his bed…

  Anthony growled at the memory. He was in serious trouble.

  “Quit with whatever you’re thinking,” Vin said, snapping him back to the present. “She agreed to this. Free will.”

  “Yeah, but why,” Anth said, hands resuming their previous stance on his hips. “Why the hell would she help us out? She gets nothing out of it.”

  His brother’s look was almost pitying. You know why.

  And there it was. Confirmation of exactly what he was afraid of. That she was doing this for him.

  The noise in Anth’s earpiece had mostly been a bunch of chatter and setup until this point, but things had quieted down. It was nearly time.

  He glanced again at his watch. 12:55. Maggie’s message to their mutual friends had been for Eddie to meet her at one o’clock at one of the benches on the north side of the park. The side where Anthony and his team would be able to see her most clearly.

  His eyes skirted around the area, seeking and immediately finding the plainclothes officers ready to move in the second they had eyes on Smiley.

  To his right, he saw Luc and Jill, where they sat laughing on a park bench, looking to the rest of the world like a happy couple completely absorbed in each other’s inside jokes. He knew better. Knew that both of their eyes had been moving constantly. Watching. Waiting.

  Only then did he let his eyes go to Maggie.

  They’d agreed it would be best if she wore her diner uniform. Eddie would likely watch her before approaching, and the hope was that he’d be less wary if it looked like she was just coming or going from a work shift.

  Her long brown hair was back in a ponytail, her purse tucked by her side as she sat alone on the park bench.

  He knew everyone else was seeing a pretty waitress taking in some fresh air in a public park, but Anth saw her differently.

  Saw the way her fingers clenched too tightly in her lap. The unsmiling flat line of her mouth. The tension in her shoulders.

  She was nervous.

  He wished he could talk to her. He could, of course. She was wearing an earpiece so that they could tell her to get the hell out if it came to that.


  All he had to do was un-mute and tell her…what, exactly?

  Agent Garny’s voice crackled over the line. “You’re doing just fine, Ms. Walker. You’re doing great. This will all be over in minutes.”

  As they’d instructed her, Maggie didn’t respond. Didn’t jump. But the thumb of her left hand ran idly over the inside of her right wrist. Their signal that she’d heard, that she was okay.

  He focused his binoculars, zeroing in on her face, just for a second, willing her to look at him even though she shouldn’t.

  Her eyes never lifted.

  Good girl. All it would take was one wrong glance on her part at one of the plainclothes cops or up here to their location and Eddie would hightail it out of there.

  Of course, the damn man had to show up first.

  “Where is he?” Vin muttered.

  The thought was echoed shortly after by Agent Garny, who was giving Anthony a run for his money in terms of the award for pacing.

  Anth didn’t blame him. This whole fool plan had been the FBI’s idea. Not that Anthony was opposed to the concept, it was just…his gut wasn’t feeling good about this one. Smiley had been smart so far. And based on the note he’d sent Maggie, he knew she was connected to the NYPD. Connected to him.

  But if there was even a chance that Eddie’s obsession with Maggie was stronger than his sense of self-preservation, they had to take it.

  His binoculars scanned the park, looking for anyone that resembled Eddie Hansen, focusing on the people wearing hats and sunglasses in an effort to disguise themselves.

  “Red jacket, northeast corner.” A low female voice crackled in his ear. Officer Teeks. One of his best.

  Anth swung the binoculars in the direction she’d indicated and immediately spotted the man in question. Average height, light blond hair, and sunglasses despite the overcast, might-rain-any-minute weather.

  Anthony tensed, then watched as the man strolled, hands in pockets, into the park.

  Tensed further when he saw the man was indeed ambling toward Maggie.

  He glanced at her, but if she recognized him as Eddie, she wasn’t giving anything away.

  The man grew closer and Anth swore his heart was in his throat. Saw the officers circle imperceptibly closer under the guise of doing something else…throwing away the trash, talking on the phone…

  The man in the red jacket approached Maggie’s bench. She glanced up. Glanced away again, nothing flickering on her features.

  “It’s not him,” Anth muttered. “Damn it.”

  The man walked past, continuing his easy amble, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Completely unaware that had he so much as looked at Maggie Walker he’d have been surrounded by law enforcement.

  “It’s one fifteen,” Mandela said. “How much time do we give him?”

  “Till one thirty,” Garny said. “Ms. Walker said Eddie always runs late.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t run late when the ex-wife you’re not over finally contacts you,” Mandela argued.

  “You do if you suspect there might be a greeting party,” Vincent muttered low enough so that only Anth could hear.

  “Heads up.” It was Luc’s voice. “Maggie’s one o’clock.”

  Anth immediately looked in the position his brother indicated, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Only a kid…

  A kid who was approaching Maggie.

  It could be nothing. The boy looked around twelve, and could just be practicing his flirting skills, or looking for directions…

  Or he could be handing her a motherfucking note.

  “What the hell?” Vincent said as the kid handed her a piece of paper.

  “Grab him,” Anthony and Agent Garny said at the same time.

  The boy was flanked by two cops seconds later, but Anthony’s eyes never left Maggie.

  Watched her face as she glanced down at the note in confusion. Watched as she opened it. Watched as confusion turned to dismay.

  She glanced up at the window of the office building then, and though she’d have no way of knowing where he stood, her eyes seemed to find his immediately.

  “Abort,” Garny said.

  Maggie was surrounded then, and everyone started talking at once.

  “What does the Goddamn note say?” Mandela asked.

  Maggie handed it over to Sergeant Corvalis, who read it aloud.

  Margaret—

  He’ll never have you.

  —E

  “The fuck does that mean?” Mandela asked. “Who’ll never have her?”

  Anthony couldn’t answer. His mind was too busy reeling with the reality of what he’d done.

  Deep down he’d always wondered if maybe his strict delineation between work and pleasure wasn’t overkill. If maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if those two worlds collided.

  But now he knew.

  Knew who the he Eddie referred to was.

  Eddie had seen them together, and it had tipped him off.

  And just like that, his feelings for Maggie might have just cost him this case.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It’s not like she went throwing herself into his arms. She didn’t go hump his leg like a needy little dog.

  But in the forty-five minutes since the entire team had come out of that damn office building and into the park, Anthony hadn’t looked at her. Not once.

  She told herself it was because he wanted to talk to the kid that delivered the note first. That made sense.

  Then he needed to talk to his people. That made sense too. He was a cop first, and she got that. Respected it.

  But he was also a man. She knew that better than anyone here. The night they’d spent together was nearly a week ago, but she could still feel his mouth on hers. His hands on her body.

  Yes, he was definitely a man.

  A man who was one hundred percent avoiding her.

  “Damn bureaucratic bullshit. It’s always like this when the FBI is involved.” This from Luc, who hadn’t left her side. Neither had Jill.

  Even Vincent was hovering nearby. He’d rested a heavy hand on her shoulder when he’d first seen her.

  “Totally,” Jill agreed with a quick nod. “There’s all sorts of crazy protocol to follow.”

  Maggie gave them both a knowing look. “And this protocol doesn’t involve interacting with the bait, is that it?”

  Luc and Jill exchanged a look, both opening their mouths to cover for Anth at the same time.

  Maggie held up a hand to stop whatever ready excuses they had. She understood their loyalty.

  She could even appreciate it.

  But it didn’t mean she was going to sit around and wait to listen to them spout off some bullshit as to why Anthony seemed to be talking to anyone but her.

  Even the FBI agent had come over and told her that she’d done everything right, and they were doing everything in their power to make sure she’d be safe. He’d been perfectly nice.

  Kind, even.

  A man with salt-and-pepper hair made his way over to her. He was wearing a suit, so she figured FBI, but he introduced himself as Deputy Inspector Mandela.

  “Anthony’s boss,” Luc muttered under his breath.

  “Ms. Walker, I can’t thank you enough for your participation today.”

  She gave a forced smile. “I only wish it could have turned out better.”

  He blew out a breath. “Yeah, well…at least we know you were able to reach him. Able to draw him out, even if not directly. You’re a link to him we didn’t have before.”

  Agent Garny came up beside the police inspector and they exchanged a look. Finally the agent cleared his throat.

  “Ms. Walker, we hate to pry into your personal life, especially given what you’ve already done to help us out, but…any idea which man your ex referred to?”

  Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. Strange that she hadn’t been prepared for this. She’d been so busy trying to figure out how Eddie had known about her and Anth. Too busy trying
to figure out why Anthony wouldn’t even look at her…

  It hadn’t occurred to her that there’d be questions.

  Of course there’d be questions.

  She just wasn’t at all sure she wanted to give answers.

  “I’m not really sure,” she said, fiddling with her necklace. An ugly locket that was the one and only possession she had from her long departed mother. “The note was vague. It could have been anyone.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend he might be referring to?”

  She shook her head. “No boyfriend.”

  That much at least was true, she thought, glancing at the broad back of Anthony as he stood talking to one of the female officers.

  “Anyone you’ve been hanging out with, even casually?” Mandela asked. “Anything would help.”

  She licked her lips, fairly sure that guilt was shimmering off her in waves. She’d never been good at lying.

  “Um—”

  Luc’s hand found her back. “Why don’t you take a day to think about it, Mags? No need to add to your stress right this second.”

  Agent Garny looked ready to argue, but after a glance at Luc and Vincent, he seemed to change his mind.

  “Sure.” He pulled a card out of his wallet. “If you think of anything. Any names…”

  “I’ll be sure to tell someone,” she agreed.

  If he caught the vagueness in her use of the word “someone,” he didn’t show it.

  Both men started to turn away, but Maggie reached out a hand to stop them. “What happens next?”

  Mandela ran a hand through his hair, then seemed to remember that there was too much gel and dropped his arm. “We’ll regroup.”

  “Do you think Eddie will steal again?”

  “Hard to say. He knows we were onto him here, so he may lay low for a while. Or he may get cocky. The thrill of eluding us outright like this might give him a boost of confidence to act soon.”

  Agent Garny eyed her. “What do you think he’ll do?”

  Maggie bit her lip, considering. “I think he’ll strike again. Soon. He thinks highly of himself. Knowing that he was onto your plan will feed his ego.”