Stepbrother Thief (44 page)

“So that's how it's going to be?” he asks, reaching forward and sliding his warm hands around my waist. I gasp at the touch, my thoughts flitting in my skull like butterflies.
Goddamn things are back again.
My lips part as Gill leans in and breathes hot against my mouth.

“That's how it's going to be,” I whisper back, reaching up to tangle my fingers in his dark hair. My skin feels like it's on fire, pulsing flames dancing across every square inch as I struggle to find my breath, to remember why I was nervous again. Standing here, doing this, everything feels right. For the first time in a long, long time.

“But you still didn't answer my question,” he says, loosening his grip on me and taking a step back. “If it's too painful,” he starts, but I raise a hand and stop him, moving over to my purse and reaching inside to unzip an inner pocket. Tossed in with a handful of change and some earrings that Anika sent me for my last birthday is Gill's engagement ring, the infinity twist that still shines as brightly today as it did back then. I haven't taken very good care of it, no, but I also debated tossing it out the window several times. The fact that it's still with me is an accomplishment to say the least.

I turn back to Gilleon and wait for him to come to me, reaching out my hand and dropping the ring into his palm, curling his fingers around it.

“When the time comes,” I begin, looking up at him with honey brown eyes, taking in his bright blue ones with a confident smile on my face, “and the time will come someday, then use this. Nothing else would feel right.”

Gill nods, reaching up to run his thumb over my lower lip, sliding his fingers down to cup the nape of my neck. Without responding in words, he leans in, pressing a scalding hot kiss to my mouth at the same moment he slips the ring into his pocket.

Our tongues tangle together as he pulls me closer, diving deeper, tasting me like I'm tasting him. Just like the night of our very first kiss, the one we shared as innocent teenagers all those years ago, Gill tastes like lemons. This time, instead of sherbet, it's lemon bars, and instead of a park, we're standing in this beautiful old house, but the love's still the same, the passion.

Time slows for me again, reverses, takes me back and wipes away the pain, the suffering, the loneliness, until all I can feel and taste and hear is Gill and his warmth, his strength, his love.

All I can taste is
us.

“Mornin' sunshine,” Aveline drawls as I yawn my way down the back staircase in my stolen hotel robe and a pair of white cashmere-blend slippers. All of these in-depth emotional revelations are taking their toll on me. I'm usually a morning person, but today, eh, I kind of feel like poking the sunrise in its golden eye. That, and Gill is gone. I make myself smile and greet Aveline before I ask about him.

“
Bonjour,
” I mumble, snatching a mug from the cabinet and removing the coffeepot. Somehow, even after last night's baking storm, there are no dirty dishes in the sink. I doubt Aveline's the domestic type, and I know Cliff and Solène far prefer cooking to cleaning, so … the only person in this house on top of things enough to wash dishes is Gilleon. I stare at the rumbling silver face of the dishwasher and then glance back at Aveline. “A master thief who does dishes?” I ask.

Aveline shrugs, her back to me, red hair braided and hanging between her shoulder blades.

“He even rinses them before he loads it up. Pretty weird, huh? The world is just full of idiosyncrasies.” Aveline runs her fingers over the keys on her laptop, clicking away at the speed of light before she turns to face me with a slight grin curling her lips, braid flopping over her shoulder. “But why don't you ask the question you
really
want to ask about Gill?”

I raise both my brows and bring my coffee cup to my lips.

“Okay, fine, I'll play along: where did he disappear to this morning?”

“Dunno,” Aveline replies, winking at me and turning back to her computer. “I just wanted to hear you ask.” I roll my eyes and move out of the kitchen and down the hallway, pausing next to the staircase and letting my eyes drift left, into the nearly empty sitting area. Just past that, through the currently closed pocket door is a blank canvas with a whole wall of windows and no discernible purpose. My best guess is that it used to be the original dining room and someone walled it up to add all those extra cabinets in the kitchen. Normally that kind of thing would bother me, but here … I like how it's tucked away but not excluded.

It'd make a great studio.

Before I realize I'm moving, my slippered feet are whispering across the floor and I'm pushing back the pocket door to find gleaming hardwood floors and sunshine streaming through the wall of windows on my right.

“It's yours, if you want it.”

I jump, sloshing coffee onto the floor near my feet, and turn to glare at Gill.

He leans casually against the wall in the sitting room, but the intensity in his gaze betrays his easy stance.

“I thought you'd disappeared on me,” I say just as casually, trying to hide the relief in my voice. I
have
to trust Gilleon to make this work. Trust. That's going to be a tough one.

Gill notices and his expression softens a bit as he slides his fingertips into the front pockets of his jeans. There's no missing the pair of pistols hanging on either side of that muscular body. As warm, as cozy, as wonderful as this house feels, there's still danger afoot.

“I had a meeting with Max.” Gill stands up straight and tilts his head to the side ever so slightly. “You're beautiful in the morning, you know that?” I reach up and touch the tousled mess that my hair's become. Normally I make a point to clean up before I let anyone see me in the morning, but … I'm not living alone anymore. If my luck holds out, I won't be living alone ever again. Time to let my hair down, so to speak.

“Not a fan of the lipstick?” I ask, reaching up to trace my lips with my free hand. Gill smiles and takes a step forward.

“Definitely a fan of the lipstick,” he says, running his knuckles down my cheek. “And the dresses.” His lips twitch. “Most definitely the heels. But I like this, too. I
missed
this, all this messy, sleepy perfection.” Gill drops his hand as I raise an eyebrow. Inside, my heart might be pounding a million miles a minute, but I don't have to let the expression show on my face. I might be Regi, but there's still some Regina Corbair in there.

“Nice change of subject,” I say, stepping around him and heading towards the kitchen to grab a paper towel for that coffee splash on the floor; Gill follows closely behind me. “It almost worked. What was your meeting with Max about?”

Gill's lips purse and he exchanges a look with Aveline before heading to the coffeemaker.

“Not good then, I take it?” I ask as I grab a roll of paper towels and tuck them under my arm.

“How would you feel if Aveline and I went out for one last job and left Ewan here with you?” Gill's trying to make the request sound casual when it's anything but. Even the tight curve of his ass under that dark blue denim isn't enough to distract from me from that statement.

“You mean you want to go after Karl? To kill him?” Both Gill and Aveline raise their brows and look over at me. I set my coffee cup down on the counter and raise my hands in surrender. “Look, if I'm being too frank, let me know, but I just want to get things straight here. Is this what you're asking?”

“You nailed it, Princess,” Aveline says, slugging down the rest of her coffee and tossing the mug into the sink with a small wince from Gilleon.
Everything's going to be okay,
I tell myself, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. When I open them, they're both still staring at me. I consider asking why Aveline would be willing to help Gill out with such a risky job, but … I've kind of gotten the sense that Gilleon isn't the only one trying to wiggle out from under Karl Rousseau's thumb.

“Then what exactly is the plan here?” I ask, refusing to back down. I don't care how top secret this shit is. Gill promised me last night that he'd tell me everything; I'm putting our new relationship to the test right here and now.

Gill exchanges another look with Aveline, but all she does is shrug.

“The only way to fix this,” Gill says, and his voice holds this old, stale sadness that I wish I could whisk away in an instant. He focuses his blue eyes on mine and I have to force myself to take a deep breath. “Is to get rid of Karl.”

“Won't he have, like, a million bodyguards or something?” I hope I don't sound too ignorant, but really, who
wants
to truly understand how crime syndicates actually work? Not this chick right here. Some things are better left to the professionals. This being one of them. “I don't need all the details.” I take another deep breath and run my hands down the front of my robe. See, if I were dressed, I'd be able to handle this situation better. I feel … vulnerable in my pajamas.

“Karl will have lots of hired guns, yes, but …” Gill glances at Aveline. “Not all of them care whether he lives or dies. Truthfully, some of them would actually
prefer
him dead. An expired crime boss leaves a vacuum of power that some people might be interested in filling.” Gill takes a step forward and looks down at me, so tall, so handsome, his face a dangerous slice of dark and light. He
needs
this shit to go away. It's hard to get better when you're constantly straddling the line. “We have a contact, a possible way in the back door.”

“And if this contact fucks up or fails?”

Gill's face answers my question more thoroughly than words ever could.

Fuck.

He lifts his hands up and wraps his fingers around my upper arms, rubbing the fabric in slow circles with his thumbs. My heart's racing again, but not for the same reason as it did before. I'm scared now.

I'm
terrified.

I knew robbing a jewelry store could—more than likely
would—
lead to trouble. But this?

“I could keep working jobs for Max. In fact, that's what the boss called me in for today: another job.” Gill swallows hard and shakes his head, taking a small step back, his boots loud on the kitchen floor. “But after last night …” Gill trails off and drops his hands to my hips. “After waking up next to you this morning, it didn't feel the same. It didn't feel right. I can do it, but I don't want to, not anymore.”

Gill leans over and presses his forehead to mine. Without realizing it, I drop the paper towels and watch as they roll across the floor and hit the fridge.

“One last job, and we can have that happy ending we always deserved.”

“But if something goes wrong, you die, am I right, Gill?”

No response, just the tightening of his fingers on my hips.

“One last job,” he says again. “One last job and it's all over.”

One big risk—or lots of small ones.

That's essentially what Gilleon's asking me: which one do we take? Because his fate—and in turn, my own—was sealed the moment that Karl's son threatened Gilleon's mom. I adjust my diamond earrings, my mother's pendant, run my hands down the front of my black flounce-hem dress. It's covered from chest to knees in white daisies, a decidedly cheerful ensemble choice for today. I picked it on purpose.

“Regi?”

Gill's standing behind me, just out of view of the mirror I'm gazing into. How he keeps managing to sneak up on me is anybody's guess—maybe my reflexes are just not up to speed—but I'm hoping and praying that I'll get better at it. That, or I'll eventually die from a stress induced heart attack.

Gilleon closes the door behind him and moves over to me as I turn around, smiling at my dress, my makeup, my
heels.
Cheerful blue Manolo Blahnik pumps, in keeping with the theme. The heels on these babies are a good four inches, putting me up at Gill's height. I like that, being able to look straight into his eyes. Something to keep in mind for shopping.

“How's that plan of yours coming along?” I ask, my pulse picking up speed. Just
talking
about the whole damn thing makes me crazy.

“Fuck that,” Gill says, pulling me to him, gazing at my lips. “I don't even want to talk about it.”