Page 87 of The San Marco Heist

I crumpled, resting my forehead against the warm parquet floor, and just let it flow out of me. This wasn’t supposed to be how today turned out.

Why reveal himself?

Noah was experienced in this game. He worked with Reynolds for two years, and we didn’t hire anyone but the best. He was a planner and a manipulator. Everything he did had a reason.

That included showing his face and telling me to meet him. What else did I have that he wanted?

I had to put him out of my mind. Focus on the good things. I was in a beautiful city with my team. My brother was safe. We’d taken him to the hospital where they checked him over, ran a few tests, and they were holding him overnight for monitoring. Once our flight crew had time to rest and Emmett was out, we’d fly home, and life would go back to normal. We would take on some low-risk jobs for a few months and breathe.

And the first thing I’d do when I got home would be to burn that photograph of Noah. Maybe stab it a few times. Run it through a shredder. Then I’d burn it.

Someone knocked on my door.

“Go away!”

The knock came again, followed by a gentle voice. “Scarlett? It’s Malcolm.”

I sprang off the floor, rubbed my hands over my cheeks as I dashed toward the door, and ripped it open. I snapped, “What do you want?”

He looked me up and down, not the way he had every other time. Not the way that said he wanted in my pants, and not even in a way that said he was judging me for my disheveled appearance. Bare feet, half-tucked blouse, and all the hair I’d ripped out of my bun. No doubt smeared makeup to complete the picture.

“Rav said he came to talk to you and you tried to hit him.” Malcolm grimaced. “I suspect he would have let you if it would help.”

I blinked at him a few times, and an almost laugh burst out of me. “I also threw a chair at him, but he caught it.”

Malcolm stifled a laugh. If he really wanted to hide it, he could have. He was likely testing my mood. “I’m not so sure I could catch a chair if you throw one at me.”

Good thing he hadn’t arrived ten minutes ago.

“That was quite the… ah… moment after we got Emmett?”

I dragged the back of my hand across my eyes, drying the slowing tears. “Do you want to come in?”

He nodded and walked in past me. “The tears were a surprise, I’ve got to say.”

“Reynolds women don’t cry.” I locked the door and pressed my forehead to it. “Tears are a tool.”

“If we’re speaking plainly…” His arms slid around my waist from behind and he rested his head against my shoulder. “They’re a pretty effective tool.”

I sank into him, running my hands over his arms and holding tight. That was so much better than the floor. “They weren’t for you.”

“Still…” He pressed a gentle kiss to my neck. “I know Emmett was our focus, but all I wanted to do was hold you. Make sure you were okay.”

“You were the one holding my hand, weren’t you?” Everything that happened after I saw Noah was a blur.

“I was.”

“All the way up the stairs and you shoved…” I shuddered, gripping Malcolm tighter. “You shoved him off me.”

“Apparently, I don’t like men trying to manhandle you.”

I turned in his embrace so I could look up into his eyes. Run my fingers through his dark-blond hair. Marvel at his serious expression. This crazy moment between us was almost over. Back to reality. “They should release Emmett from the hospital tomorrow. Once the jet’s ready, we’ll fly home. I can have them file a flight plan that takes you back to New York after that, if you want?”

“What’s your plan tonight?”

“That didn’t answer my question.” It avoided my real question: Was there a chance there was something else going on between us? Something other than a need to get him out of my system?

“Because I need to know the answer to my question first.” His arms remained firm around my waist. They didn’t move, didn’t lower to my ass, he didn’t even draw little circles with his thumbs. “And in case there’s any doubt what that means—I want to know if you’re planning to run off after him tonight.”

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