by Nina Croft
At the next tube station, she went inside and bought a ticket, sat on the train and people-watched, got out at the station closest to her family home, and walked the last ten minutes.
Her family lived in a big detached Victorian house in Stratford. Her dad had bought it after a particularly successful bank robbery when she was four. She knew he was still involved in the business, but these days, he tended to stay in the background, planning jobs rather than taking part. She wished she could say the same for her brothers. All of them, with the sole exception of her youngest brother, Chris, had embraced a life of crime with open arms.
Which meant she was going to have to lay down some ground rules.
She pushed open the gate and headed along the gravel drive. Five cars were parked in front of the house—all expensive models. Who said crime didn’t pay? Her mother had presumably managed to get in touch with most if not all of her brothers, to inform them of her return. Pretty much as she expected.
The door opened before she got there, and a second later, she was enveloped in a huge, Chanel-scented hug. Her mother was tiny and blond with a will of iron. Regan was dragged inside and passed on to her father, who lifted her in the air and swung her around. “My baby girl.”
He passed her on to Tom, her oldest brother, and he tossed her in the air—her favorite game as a little girl.
She was home.
Finally, she was put on the floor, and she turned to face the rest of her brothers. She waggled her fingers. “Hi, guys.”
There were five of them in all. Tom, Luke, Sam, Cameron, and Chris. All of them big and muscular and grinning. Gosh, she’d missed them.
Her mother hustled her into the kitchen, poured her a glass of wine, and pushed her gently into a chair. They all followed.
“So you got out this morning,” her dad said. “Why didn’t you tell us? We would have met you.”
She cleared her throat. “Actually, I was released yesterday. I just needed a little time…”
She’d expected them to be hurt, but her dad nodded his head, and it came to her that he understood what she was feeling; he’d been there himself.
Then they were all sitting down and talking, and she just let it all flow over her. She was home. It was hard to believe, and she had to blink back a tear or two. In a lull in the conversation, she asked the question she didn’t really want to ask, but felt she needed to. “Did you ever hear from Bobby?”
Her father’s expression hardened. “That little prick. He wouldn’t dare show his face around here.”
Bobby was her ex, her neighbor growing up, her partner in crime, and the main reason—well, after Nate Carter—that she’d spent the last three years inside. When she’d been arrested, he’d vanished with the proceeds of the job and not been seen since. He must have known she would have received a reduced sentence if she’d given the diamonds up, but he obviously didn’t care. Then again, he’d also tricked her into doing the job in the first place—told her his sister, who’d been Regan’s best friend at school, had a rare form of cancer and needed the money for medical treatment in the States.
A total load of bollocks.
But Bobby would know her family was gunning for him. If he had any sense, he’d never show his face around London again.
“What do you plan to do now?” her mother asked.
“You could come in with us,” Cam said. “We’ve got this neat little job—”
She put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to know. I’m going straight. Keep the sordid details to yourself.”
“So what will you do?”
“I’m going to open up my own business.”
“Doing what?” her dad asked. At least he sounded interested.
“Doing what I do best.” From the moment her dad had first shown her how to pick a lock when she was five, she’d been brilliant. Her dad swore she was born for a life of crime. She’d moved on to safes, and there wasn’t one she couldn’t crack. All the same, she’d always insisted she would never go into the business. Only Bobby’s lies had made her stray from that decision. “I’m going to offer a service, checking and setting up security systems. And no…before you ask, I will not be handing the details over to you guys.” She put her glass down. “I made a decision when I was inside. I am never going back. So from now on, it’s the straight and narrow for me.”
“You need backing?”
“No, I’m good. I’ve got some savings, and a friend is going to invest as well. She’s an accountant, so she’ll be looking after the books. And I’ve got an office sorted out—it’s above a gym just off Piccadilly Road.”
“Nice area.”
The gym belonged to Darcy. There was also a three-bedroom apartment, and she was going to move in there with Darcy and Summer. That was going to be the bit her family wouldn’t take so calmly. She took a deep breath. “I’m going to be living there as well. It makes sense to be close to work and…stuff.”
“And we would be a bad influence,” her father said.
She released her breath; her dad didn’t sound put out.
“You always did want to better yourself,” he continued. “But you know the SIA won’t issue you with a license. Not with your record.”
The SIA was the Security Industry Authority—it issued the licenses a security company required in order to be trusted by potential clients. She’d need one for a lot of the work she wanted to do, and she knew it would be hard with her background. But she’d work that out when she came to it. Maybe she’d have to get a silent partner with a better reputation. And if she still didn’t get her license, she’d have to think of something else—maybe freelance work for another company until she’d proved herself. Somehow it would work out.
After a long lunch, which took them into late afternoon, her mom came with her to her old bedroom and sat on the bed while Regan packed her things. She changed into jeans and a tank top, then added the black dress to her bag.
Her mother sniffed. “Couldn’t you just stay a few days?”
“I can’t, Mom. I need a bit of space. But I’ll come back and visit.”
“Every Friday.”
Friday was the night her mother insisted the whole family make an effort to get together. “It’s a date. And maybe we can go shopping one day soon—I need some business clothes.”
Her dad was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll drive you,” he said.
“Thanks.” She gave them both a hug. There really was no place like home.
“You know we’re there for you if you need us?” Half an hour later, her father pulled up at the side of the road, but it was a no-parking zone, and he didn’t turn off the engine.
“I know, Dad.” She leaned across and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you Friday.”
“Make sure you do.”
She climbed down, grabbed her bag from the back, and looked around the area—it was nice. She hadn’t known what to expect; this wasn’t a part of the city she knew, but she’d thought a gym would be somewhere just a little sleazy. Instead it was on a wide road, and the gym had a big plate-glass window and a sliding door with the words Butler’s Gym written above it. She headed to the alley at the side, as per instructions. A few feet along was a dark red door with an intercom. She pressed the button and spoke into it. “It’s Regan.”
As she heard the click, she pushed the door open. It led into a narrow corridor and a staircase. She took the stairs to the first floor. On one side of the corridor was a glass-and-wood door. She tried it, but it was locked… She guessed this would be her new business premises.
Opposite was another door, painted red, and it opened as she stood there. Darcy grinned at her. “Welcome home.”
The apartment needed work. Darcy had warned her about that. She hadn’t lived there before she’d gone inside but rented a place nearby. She and Summer had spent the last couple of weeks getting it at least fit for habitation. But it needed painting and was almost free of furniture. Her new offices were appa
rently the same, but Regan was looking forward to getting busy. A sense of excitement fizzed inside her as she stood in her new bedroom. It was bare except for the double bed, but she’d trawl the secondhand shops to get some stuff cheap.
She turned and gave Darcy a hug. “Thank you.”
Darcy was letting them stay rent-free in the apartment, though Regan had insisted on paying rent for the office space—it was worth a lot in this part of town. She had enough savings to pay for six months. If she didn’t start getting income by then, she’d have to think again.
“Where’s Summer?” she asked. She’d thought her other friend would be here to welcome her.
“I’m not sure.” Darcy frowned. “Actually, I’m worried about her. I think something’s happened, but she won’t open up.”
“Is she in trouble?”
“She says not. She’s actually got a job and had already started work before I got out.”
Summer had been the first to be released two weeks ago, then Darcy a week later. “Quick work, but I thought she was going to go into business for herself.” Summer was a brilliant accountant, clever enough to have embezzled a whole shitload of money from some really big companies. It was only bad luck she’d been caught.
“She said she got an offer she couldn’t refuse. And this job pays well. Besides, it made her parole officer happy.”
“Oh. Well, maybe we’ll talk about it when she gets here.”
Darcy nodded. “Now, sorry, but I have to dash. I’m teaching a class. Self-defense for women. Maybe you should come along.”
“Next time. Right now, I’m just going to settle in. Maybe go for a walk.”
Darcy patted her arm. “You’ll relax. It just takes time.” She headed out but paused at the door. “Sorry there’s no food in the place, but there is a small all-night supermarket at the corner and every conceivable takeaway if you head left out of the alley.”
After Darcy had gone, Regan spent a little time wandering around the place. It was big. The large kitchen had a cooker and a fridge and not much else, though three mugs hung on the wall. The fridge was empty except for beer, and she grabbed one, drinking it while she finished exploring. There were three beanbags on the floor in the living room—at least they would have something to sit on. The bathroom was the only room finished; it had a shower and a big old-fashioned tub. She stripped off her clothes and took a quick shower, then dressed in a yellow-and-black flowered sundress and slipped on sandals.
She’d go to the supermarket. Get some food. How long had it been since she’d actually cooked?
But somehow, as she reached the shop, her feet kept moving. She wasn’t that far from the Ritz. Where the hell had that thought come from?
And why would it matter?
She just had the urge to revisit the place. Have a drink in the bar. Maybe it could be her new local hangout. This had absolutely nothing to do with Detective Sergeant Nate Carter.
And no way would he be there.
Last night had been a one-off. For both of them.
But when she entered the bar, he was at the same table, and her heart tripped a beat. Tonight, he’d swapped the scotch for coffee. An empty cup sat on the table, and he was staring at his hands clasped in front of him. She came to a halt beside him. “So you do come here often,” she said, and almost grinned as he jumped.
He looked up at her, and she tried to define his expression. And failed. “They told me you’d checked out this morning.”
“Isn’t that confidential information?”
He shrugged. “Perks of the job.”
She gave a shrug of her own. “I can’t afford to stay in a place like this.”
“No little pile of diamonds in the bank somewhere?”
She scowled. “You wish.” She was quite aware that he saw her as unfinished business, that his failure to recover the stolen goods was something he needed to correct. But really, she’d told the truth about them. She had no idea where they were. This conversation just served to prove how stupid she was for coming here. For that matter, how stupid he was, and he was an officer of the law. He should know better. Still, she couldn’t walk away.
“What did you want to see me about?”
He gave a wry twist of his lips. “I came to tell you that I wouldn’t be seeing you again. At least that’s what I told myself.” He looked at her then, a long, slow, lingering look that had her nipples tightening.
“So—let me get this right—you came to see me to tell me that you weren’t going to come and see me. That makes perfect sense, Detective.”
He was dressed more casually than he’d been last night, in faded jeans, a navy T-shirt, and a beat-up leather jacket. She was surprised the Ritz had served him like that, but maybe he’d flashed his badge again.
“What about you?” he asked. “What brings you back here tonight?”
“I was in the area, just passing by.”
“Of course you were.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Christ, this is crazy. I have no clue what I’m doing here.”
Join the club.
He looked tired, with dark shadows beneath his eyes and lines bracketing his beautiful mouth. They hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, but she sensed it went deeper than that. Without conscious thought, she inched closer, reached out, and stroked a hand down over the soft stubble on his jaw. He hadn’t shaved. He flinched slightly but moved in toward her touch as though he couldn’t help himself. She cupped his cheek for a second, then dropped her hand and stepped back.
“You want a drink?” he asked.
“No.”
He looked her in the face. “What do you want, Regan.”
That was easy. “A new life. To get rid of the old.”
“Am I part of that old life?”
Actually, he was the biggest part she wanted to forget. Or rather needed to forget, for her own peace of mind. But would it be so bad to extend her fantasies for just a little while longer? Probably. He was right—this was crazy. She forced a nod.
“And yet here we are.” He pushed himself to his feet and stretched. “Christ, I feel rough.” He cast a glance over her. “You, on the other hand, look pretty enough to eat.”
“Thank you.” But she wished he hadn’t said it, because she had a flashback to feeling his mouth between her legs. Crazy or not, she wanted him. One more time. Her knees went weak, and she had to steady herself with a hand on the back of the chair. She stared into his eyes, and from what she saw in them, she’d guess he knew exactly what she was thinking.
He stood up slowly and then held out his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Five
Was she going to refuse?
Christ, he hoped not.
All day, he hadn’t been able to get the thought of her out of his head, the feel of her in his arms, the sensation of waking up beside her all warm and…he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept with a woman. He tended to be a wham-bam kind of guy.
She’d sneaked into his thoughts at the most inappropriate moments, heating his blood and pushing whatever he was supposed to be doing from his mind.
All the same, he’d had no intention of coming here again—he was supposed to be proving to himself that he could control this one part of his life, at least—so he had no idea how he’d gotten here or ended up standing in front of the concierge, asking for her room number.
The sensation of falling he’d experienced when he’d been told she’d checked out that morning was something he would remember the rest of his life. Combined with the crash landing when he’d realized how much he’d wanted this—no, needed this—it had shaken him to the core.
He didn’t even know her.
He knew of her, and what he did know wasn’t good.
Why was she the one woman who affected him this way?
Was it only that he could never have her? At least, not for more than a fleeting sexual release. But last night had been too fleeting, and nowhere near enough. He’d had her
. And now he wanted her again.
Somehow he’d found himself in the bar, ordering a coffee. He’d sat and watched the rich people go past. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to visit his father—though most of the time, his dad had no notion Nate was even there—and his dog was home alone. A neighbor had promised to feed and walk her, but Trixie hated being alone. He was going to have to do something about that; it was clear his dad wasn’t coming home.
But now Regan was here, pushing the worries from his mind and making room for some new ones. Was he crazy? She looked younger than last night. Younger than her twenty-five years. And he felt way older than his thirty.
Would she come with him?
Finally, she slipped her hand into his, and he closed his fist around hers, the tension draining from his tight muscles. He didn’t know where they were going. He just needed to get her someplace alone, someplace he could kiss her.
Outside the sky was dark, but the streets were way too bright. He walked fast, searching the buildings.
They approached the entrance to an alley. He could only see a few feet inside. The rest was in shadows—perfect—and he tugged her after him into the darkness. Without giving her time to protest, he pulled her close, lowered his head, and kissed her. But there was no protesting. She melted against him, her mouth parting, her tongue pushing inside, sliding against his, and heat flooded his body, sinking down to his groin, stiffening his cock. His hands were in her hair, holding her still, while hers roamed his body, slipping under his jacket, tugging his T-shirt free, moving down inside his jeans.
Then she paused and peered up at him. “This is just sex, right? Nothing else.”
What else could there ever be between them? “Just sex.”
He released her hair, then pushed his hands between them, unfastening his belt, the button, the zipper. At last her hot, greedy hands were on him, and for a second he stood, savoring the feeling. But urgency tugged at him. Who knew how long their privacy would last, and he needed to be inside her.
