Page 53 of The San Marco Heist

I’d posed with Rav on jobs before. We were comfortable together. We’d known each other so long we had the same tics and cues as a married couple. He knew where the boundaries were and knew when they needed to be crossed.

But Malcolm? I didn’t want to admit to anyone—including myself—how many of the boundaries I wanted him to cross.

“Okay, so we’re in private now. What do you need?” I pulled a glass toward me, no intention of drinking anything, but it would prevent me from fidgeting.

He shifted his body to face me and leaned one elbow up on the table. “Is your mother always like that?”

Of all the questions I’d expected, that was probably the last one I wanted. “What do you mean?”

“You know who my father is from doing the background check. You know I was in military schools and paraded around like the good general’s son. I know a little about having a strict parent. But your mom is a real…”

So help me, he was about to get on my really bad side. “Bitch?”

He grimaced. “No, I was going to say hard-ass.”

My muscles unclenched. “I’m just the iceprincess, right?”

He took a sip of his beer, gaze falling to the one in front of me. “Not with your team though. You’re more like a mother hen with them.”

“All I want is to do good work and bring them home safely.”

“Does your father work for the company, too?”

Something I wanted to discuss even less than my mother. “No. Just me, Mum, Emmett, and Brie.”

He nodded slowly, his stunning blue eyes falling to the table. “My mother died when I was little. I can barely remember her or what my father was like before that.”

“I’m sorry.” I’d also read that in the background check. What was he trying to gain by telling me? Was he guessing we were in the same situation, so he could use it to find out more about my father?

Dad hadn’t been in the picture since I was twelve. I visited him a couple of times each year, which left me with a swirl of emotions I wasn’t prepared for in the middle of the pub. I wasn’t prepared to handle the emotions of dealing with my mother, either. I had just enough to deal with Emmett. Once he was free, everything could go back to normal.

Malcolm put his hand on mine, curling his fingers between my palm and the glass. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. We will not lose Emmett.”

His hand was cool from where it had been on his glass. Firm grip, with a hint of hesitation, or discomfort for sitting together, in a pub with a woman he barely knew, holding her hand.

Unlike after the architect’s office, I didn’t fling it off. Instead, against what would have been my better judgment, I held on. I needed to maintain control for the team. Around every mark, target, or any person I needed information from. Malcolm was a one-job contractor. He’d be in my life for a week or two and then gone.

Let him think what he wanted about the ice princess. Every once in a while, I needed to pretend I was halfway human with someone other than my three girlfriends. “Thank you for yesterday.”

He inched closer and lowered his voice. “I didn’t like how she talked to you.”

“And I don’t enjoy sitting here in a pub when we should be planning.”

“Everyone’s gotta eat.” He stretched his arm along the top of the booth, so it was behind my shoulders.

Why was I still holding his hand? “Since we’re alone, we should review the levels of physicality for tomorrow.”

He stroked my knuckles with a thumb, sending an unwelcome wave of heat through me. “We’ve already gone over that at least a dozen times.”

I squeezed his hand. “Then what level is this?”

“One.” He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back. “And that skipped all the way to three.”

I pulled my hand away. “We’re not at the party. Keep your lips to yourself.”

His intense eyes remained locked on mine. “And always ask permission.”

Maybe Heather was right last Saturday night. I needed to get back into the game sometime, but this was hardly the right time. And he was hardly the right guy. If I could just convince my stubborn body to believe that. “Always.”

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