Page 24 of Thief

He scanned the place and spotted two guys checking her out from behind. One of them was with a woman of his own. John’s hackles rose, and he glared him down, satisfied when it only took a split second of eye contact to send the man scampering away with his basket of muesli, yogurt and Quorn. John spun and saw the other salivating at Kat’s rear as she bent into the freezer. He took one big stride towards him. The guy looked up, panic flicked over his features, and he backtracked into the cereal aisle, his mouth a tight line of anxiety as he stumbled into another shopper.

John swept his gaze about for any other creeps who needed taking out, then moved closer to Kat as if in a silent warning to the men around her. She wasn’t for general consumption.

* * * *

Kat looked casual, but every step and flick of her hair was carefully orchestrated. Jealousy was a powerful emotion, and she could do with it on her side. John thought he was so clever, but as usual, his emotions were woefully transparent. It was hardly as if they were an item, but his reaction just went to show no man liked other guys looking at their woman—no matter what the circumstances, even the weirdest ones imaginable.

But it didn’t escape her notice that John too was drawing admiring glances. Women in the shop were floating their gaze up and down his leather-clad body as openly as men were appraising hers. The only differences being John was ignorant to the effect he had on the females around him.

She watched him drop three packs of rump steaks and a bottle of whisky into the basket. She had to give it to him—he did look like most women’s idea of perfection. Broad square shoulders, slim hips and long muscular legs all wrapped up in tight black leather which left little to the imagination. His handsome, yet undeniably sullen face was in desperate need of a shave, but the designer stubble look just added to the dark, moody maleness of him. Without a hint of vanity he looked effortlessly good, a seriously hot combination for any passing woman to admire—and admire they did.

Back in the apartment, hostility seeped between them once more. Kat watched John slug on whisky and move about her kitchen as if he owned the place. He was grating on her now they were on her territory again, and what was it with the damn whisky all the time?

“You want a steak?” he asked, pulling a pristine frying pan from a cupboard.

“Let’s not play at being a happily married couple,” she replied curtly. “It really doesn’t suit us.”

John didn’t answer. He simply threw a single steak into the pan and turned his back.

Kat stalked to her bedroom and only left it twice during the rest of the day; once to use the bathroom and once to cook a microwave meal.

* * * *

The next morning, Kat tapped out of her bedroom in a short denim skirt and high heeled boots, walked to the front door and slipped out before John could even pull up from the sofa where he’d slept fully dressed.

With a violent curse, he lunged after her, slamming the apartment door and reaching the elevator doors just before they shut. He shoved his hand into the small gap and forced them open again. “What the hell are you doing?” he barked, his painful knee making his morning mood much worse than usual.

“I’ve got an appointment.”

“Yeah right, who with, your bank manager?” He stepped inside and leant his shoulder against the elevator wall and rubbed a palm over his bristly face in an effort to wake up.

Kat glared at him. “If you must know it’s a hair appointment. I always get my hair done the first Monday of the month. I don’t see why I should have to miss out just because you’re hanging around.”

John roamed his gaze over her glossy straight hair hanging perfectly neat over her shoulders and her heavy fringe just skimming the lower line of her eyebrows. “You’re forgetting something I thought I’d been pretty clear about,” he said with a frown. “Where you go, I go.”

She tightened the strap of her handbag over her shoulder and didn’t hold his eye contact.

“Next time you need to go out, I get ten minutes warning. I could have used a coffee to kick start the day.”

Kat rolled her eyes and muttered, “Whiskey more like.”

The elevator doors pinged open, and she headed into the lobby before he could think of a quick comeback.

He followed and tried to control his limp as he went past the security guard. “Morning,” he called amiably as they reached the desk, acting for all the world like he’d been invited to stay in the apartment block.

“Good morning, sir,” the security guy called back then did a theatrical double take when he saw who John was walking with.

Kat tutted and pushed rapidly through the revolving doors into the spring sunshine. Moving swiftly to the kerb, she hailed a passing cab which screeched to a standstill directly in front of her. She broke away from John and slid in with sudden speed and nimbleness. “Get moving, fast,” she hissed at the cab driver.

John grabbed the door handle, swung it wide open and dropped heavily on the backseat just as it pulled away.

Haven’t I made myself perfectly clear about us sticking together?

He swore under his breath, stretched out his leg and rubbed at his knee cap. It hurt like hell. He shifted and in a low whisper said into her ear, “Just so you know, that’s as far as you can push me. You’ve reached the end of the fucking line. He curled a hand around the back of her neck and forced her to face him. “You’re stuck with me for the week. Stop fighting it.”

Kat pulled away from his grip, hoisted her chin and barked the salon’s address at the driver.

“Now kiss me,” he whispered.

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