Page 17 of Broken Rules
He tapped the phone receiver. “We won’t be alone for long.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “Shit! The police are still going to come even though I hung up.”
“Don’t worry,” he said calmly. “After I go, just call them back and tell them you thought you’d heard someone in the kitchen but you were mistaken. They may still come to check things out, but they won’t stay long.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. If I had known it was you, I never would have called the cops.”
He straightened up, tension suddenly filling his shoulders. “I shouldn’t be here.” His voice sounded agitated.
“I really am sorry.”
He grabbed her waist. “If a guy like me ever gets close to you again, you call the police. Understand?”
Before she could take her next breath, he pulled her flush against him. His masked face hovered above her hair, and then slowly, she felt his full lips press against her cheek through the mask. She closed her eyes as desire shot through her.
“Forget I was here,” he said softly. “Forget all about me.”
His touch vanished, and when she opened her eyes, he was gone.
Chapter Five
Savannah ’s Tuesdaydouble couldn’t have gone fast enough. Just thinking about her masked visitor made her heart race harder than it ever had before. She knew she was behaving ridiculously. No longer a naive teenager, she was a woman grown with twenty-five years of bad boy experience under her belt. Still, she had always wanted what she shouldn’t crave. And what could possibly be more forbidden than...the man in black? Zorro? No, her masked man was definitely no hero—he was a thief-for-hire.
While she finished wiping down the bar she thought of his lean build and smoldering eyes. For all she knew he could be hiding some kind of Phantom-of-the-Opera deformity behind his mask. She froze mid-wipe. Maybe that was why he was a contract thief—he believed he was too hideous to live and work in ordinary society. She shook her head at herself. Now, she really was being ridiculous.
She looked up as Sam, the young bar-back, swung a rack of clean glasses onto the service counter.
Savannah smiled at him. “Right on time. Your tip-out is by the register. Great work tonight. Just finish wiping down the tables; then you can head out. I’ll be upstairs in the office if you need anything.” She grabbed her purse and ducked beneath the service counter.
“Thanks, Savannah,” Sam called after her, flashing a goofy smile that dimpled his freckled cheeks. “Have a good night.”
She gave the young man a wave before she crossed through the empty dining room and into the kitchen. Heading off to the right, she climbed the stairs, but instead of going straight to the office, she made a sharp right into the back of the dry storage area where the kitchen staff changed.
Shoving aside the cook’s whites, she uncovered a full-length mirror and took in her reflection. Considering she’d just worked a double, she didn’t look too bad. She pulled out the bobby pins holding her long bangs back and freshened her curls with a little serum. Then she reapplied her deodorant and a fresh coat of her favorite lipstick—pink blush. Whisking her black work shirt over her head, she straightened the plain white tank top she’d worn underneath, all the while the same question bombarded her mind.
Would he come to her again?
