Page 45 of Thief

Kat melted. Forgetting everything else, she simply gave herself up to the soul-searching kiss. It felt so wonderful she could live in it. Strong, masculine and protective. She would get lost forever in this safe new world if she wasn’t careful.

When their kiss broke, he held her in silence, his chin resting on her crown and looking out at the balcony. Wrapped in his tight arms with her head on his chest, she found herself wondering how she’d feel tomorrow if all went as planned. When she had her cut of the diamonds, they’d go separate ways, and she’d be alone in her apartment.

That was the plan.?That was what she wanted.?But she’d got used to him hanging around the place, and the last twenty-four hours…

The last twenty-four hours had been sensational. She’d flown higher than she’d ever thought possible. She wasn’t looking forward to coming down. She was afraid she’d crash land.

* * * *

At five o’clock, Kat went into the bathroom and locked the door. John heard the shower running and paced the living room, resisting the urge to drink whisky. Lots of it. He strode onto the balcony, taking in lungfuls of not particularly fresh air. Battled to steady his mind and focus his energy on what was to come.

He looked at the people below, rushing about in the late spring sunshine, oblivious to the criminal underworld going on around them—even the most up-market, desirable parts of the city where not immune to the darker sides of the capital. If only they knew thieves lived amongst them.

When Kat eventually appeared from the bathroom, she was wrapped in a white, fluffy towel and moved quickly into her bedroom and shut the door.

John paced after her, but stilled at the doorway. He reached up and curled his fingertips over the frame, hung frozen, trying desperately to get a grip on his emotions.

It was driving him nuts her getting ready to be with another man. He hadn’t thought he was a jealous sort; he was pretty easy going about women. But then, having never been in a long-term relationship, he really had nothing to go on. No benchmark. So the assumption about him not being the jealous type actually had no grounding.

He made coffee and ate ten biscuits, pulled on his bike leathers and fiddled with his Swiss army knife before shoving it deep into his pocket. He counted and checked the wads of money he’d stashed in his wallet. It was all still there despite having spent the week with a light-fingered flat-mate. He was about to flip his wallet shut when he spotted the battered, fading photo of Cobra One. He pulled it out to examine his old mates.

Cobra One didn’t look like an elite fighting team. They looked like a group of six buddies having a laugh and enjoying summer sunshine. Each had a bottle of beer in his hand, and their suntanned faces wore wide, happy smiles. Without exception, they were dressed in desert camouflage combat trousers, and their arms were thrown casually over each other’s bare, bronzed shoulders.

The men could have been on any beach in the world, but the photo had been taken deep in the Afghan desert, not long after a risky night surveillance mission. Their manic, wide eyes told John they were still on a high from having survived the night. He wished the guys were with him now. A few mates, a gun and a fully functioning knee would be bloody useful. But he was a realist. He was on his own and would have to get on with it.

“Who’s that?”

John hadn’t heard Kat approach behind him. He was about to shoot some sarcastic remark but stopped himself. No point taking his self-pitying mood out on her.

“My unit,” he said, handing it over.

“Hey, that’s you.” she said, pointing. “You look nice when you smile. You should do it more often.”

“I haven’t had much to smile about lately, have I?” He took the photo out of her hand and placed it back in his wallet, his dark mood deepening.

Kat pouted, but then spotted another picture. “Who’s that?” she said, reaching across his arm.

What the heck?

John pulled out the photo of his dad.

Kat studied it even more intently than the picture of Cobra One. “You have his eyes.”

“You reckon?”

“Yep, and his mouth, definitely his mouth.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“He looks like a nice dad,” Kat said, handing the photo back.

“He was. The best.” John slipped it away and pushed his wallet into his pocket. He ran his gaze down her body. “Is that you ready?”

Kat wore her usual little black dress that fell just below the knee. Her hair, soft, shiny and so black it contained a hint of blue hung around her bare upper arms. She’d settled her small diamond necklace above her boosted cleavage to draw attention to the delicious curves disappearing into the material of her dress. Her makeup was flawless. Seductive eyes peered from her precise fringe, accentuated with a line of vibrant green shadow.

His mood suddenly swung to the opposite end of the spectrum. He reached for her hand and kissed the pale underside of her wrist. “You’re so damn gorgeous you’re making me insane,” he murmured, breathing in her sweet, powdery perfume. “Absolutely fucking insane!”

* * * *

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