Thief of Hearts

Page 11

“Pross house,” she said shortly, getting out of the car and striding, unafraid, through the worst neighborhood in the city. There were more streetlights out than on, more shattered store windows than whole and entirely too many rough-looking men giving his Kara the once-over. Jared could feel himself bristling and singled out the meanest looking one for a good glare. “Keep up, please.”
“I don’t like the looks of those guys,” he said, nodding to a gang of thugs clustered under a broken streetlight. “Ya want I should rough ‘em up for ya?”
She laughed. “Aren’t you cute. Jared, trust me. Worry about the ones you don’t see.”
She bounded up the steps to a battered brownstone, nodding politely to the two teens—either of which could have given your average beat cop a run for her money—and ringing the buzzer. The teens appeared to completely ignore her, but Jared noticed they both made way. He reached out and snagged Kara’s elbow just as she was buzzed in. “I’m with her,” he told the teens, who ignored him as they had Kara, “and don’t get smart or I’ll have her whup you both.”
Inside, he was pleasantly surprised to find a homey entryway. Shabby, but dignified. “Well, this is something,” he said, looking around. “First, the Playboy Mansion. Then the fence…that’s the guy who cashed in the necklace, right? Now we’re…I have no idea where. What’s a pross house?”
“This isn’t a pross house,” a warm, pleasant voice said. Jared jumped and spun; Kara turned unhurriedly toward the voice; Jared realized Kara had known they weren’t alone in the hall. “That’s a place where prostitutes…ah…ply their trade. This is a shelter for soiled doves trying to make new lives for themselves.”
The woman who spoke was astonishingly beautiful, despite the knife scar that bisected her right cheek.
Far from detracting from her beauty, the scar served to accent the flawless state of the rest of her face.
She had shoulder-length, rich brown hair the color of dark chocolate, eyes the color of a sea lagoon and skin the color of a really good espresso. She was quite a bit shorter than Kara and if she weighed more than a hundred pounds, Jared vowed to eat the scale.
“Ma’am,” he said politely.
“Madam, actually,” she said and tittered. “Well, former madam. But you know.”
“Present for you, Mag.” Kara handed her the shoe box in which, Jared knew, there nestled close to half a million dollars.
“Awwww…” Mag caught the box and tucked it under her arm like a football. “And I didn’t get you anything. Who’s the stiff stud?”
“I happen,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster, “to be the young lady’s personal physician.
I started by advising her that this neighborhood is bad for her health, but—”
Meg brayed laughter, cutting him off. “Her? There’s nothing in this neighborhood bad for A.A. She’s safer here than anywhere.”
Click. Everything fell into place. But instead of being shocked, he felt like nodding thoughtfully.
Shocked? Hell, he wasn’t even mildly surprised. The only reason he hadn’t figured it out earlier was, he’d always thought A.A.—whenever he thought about A.A. at all—was more interested in lining his or her pocket than protecting doctors from hit men.
Kara turned to leave. “I’ll see you, Meg.”
“I know. Can’t stay away, can you? Good for us.” Meg’s smirk switched off and she abruptly looked haggard, old. “Bad for you.”
Kara shrugged and left without another word. Jared offered his hand to Meg, who only looked at it, amused. Then he hurried after Kara.
“I’ve got it,” he said on the street.
“Whatever it is, put it back,” she said reasonably, opening the car door and sliding inside.
Jared realized with a start that she hadn’t bothered to lock the car…and it had remained unmolested the entire time they were inside. Well, no wonder. Given who she was.
“You’re the Avenging Angel,” he said, jumping into the passenger seat. “I’ve read about you. You’ve been doing a Robin Hood thing…stealing from the rich and corrupt, then donating the money to homeless shelters and such.” He felt like clapping, he was so pleased at having figured it out. Then it hit him and he didn’t feel like clapping anymore. “But this is terrible.”
“I warned you,” she said quietly, driving back to his apartment.
“This is why you can’t testify against ole One Eyebrow. The D.A. is at least as interested in putting you in jail as he is some mob hood. Jesus, there’s—didn’t I read somewhere that there’s a $500,000 reward for your capture? The guys you’ve been stealing from put up a pot?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Well, hell, this is totally unacceptable! The D.A. should thank you, not issue warrants for your arrest.”
She looked at him and, in the poorly lit car, all he could see were her eyes. They were huge. He tried not to yelp as she ran a red light. “What?” she whispered. “What did you say?”
“I said, why don’t you let me drive? Seriously. Kara? What’s the matter?”
She didn’t answer. He didn’t get another word out of her until they were back at the apartment.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” She glanced at her watch. “Later this morning, I mean.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Forget it. You’re coming inside with me so we can finish talking about this.”
She snorted. He looked so stubborn, so determined. It was cute, if irritating. “Don’t make me throw you out of this car, Jared. I’d try not to hurt you…but you wouldn’t like it, just the same.”
He wasn’t, she saw with surprise, fazed by her threat. “If you do, I’ll stand on the street corner, waving my arms and telling everyone that Carlotti is the only man on the planet with penis envy. That he used to have two eyebrows but quit plucking them when his tweezers broke. That I saw him assaulting my future wife and I’m going to tell the world, take out an ad, camp out in the D.A.’s office. How long do you think it’d take for him to come get me?”
She stared at him. Her throat had actually gone dry; she swallowed to force moisture. “You wouldn’t—never mind. You’re crazy enough to do it. Fine. We’ll go in.”
Once inside, he absently locked the front door—not that it would do any good against anyone like her—took their jackets and tossed them on the couch. She turned her back to him and wondered, once again, if she had lost her mind. What was she thinking, showing this strait-laced doctor a piece of her life?
And why hadn’t he thrown her out, or at least threatened to turn her in? He’d pretended to be appalled because the D.A. wanted her arrest, not because she stole for a living and that was the biggest, most vicious lie she’d heard from a man yet.
“So, what?” he was saying. “I figured it out, you’re the notorious A.A. Was that my cue to scream and run away? To never see you again? Was that supposed to make me not attracted to you? Because it failed, failed, failed.”
Anger at his obtuse nature flared in her and she gladly went with the emotion. She was tired of holding back, tired of forcing cool when he made her feel the exact opposite.
She slammed her hand on the back of the couch, kicking up a small puff of dust. “Jesus, don’t you get it? I’m not like you, I’ll never be like you. I can’t live in your world and you certainly can’t live in mine. I wanted to protect you from Carlotti until we neutralize him and that’s fine, but that’s all there is.”
“The hell.” He started toward her and she stumbled back, not trusting herself to stay strong, stay angry, if he touched her. If he touched her, she was going to forget all about their differences…again. “I see your little field trip for what it is. You broke into a mansion and did what you liked there…no one could stop you. Then you went to a fence, who sure isn’t going to turn you in—he’s probably been profiting off your hobbies for years. Then you take me to the worst neighborhood in the city to show me how everyone defers to you. This whole ‘hacking’ thing was supposed to prove that you’re evil incarnate and—tell the truth—you wanted to show me what you could do. You wanted to show off a little. Don’t you get that you don’t have to steal to be worth something?”
“You don’t understand, I knew you couldn’t under—”
He swiftly crossed the room to her and put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her as one would a child.
His face was blazing, but not with anger. With sincerity and passion. “You’re precious in yourself, you need prove nothing, you’ve got so much to offer, you are your own self , Kara and you’re not defined by what you steal or who you can beat up.”
“I—that’s not—”
“You think I care that you’re a thief? You think I care that you steal pretty stones and give them to people who don’t have your determination to stay strong? You think I give two shits that the D.A. wants to throw your ass in jail?” The mere act of saying the words made Jared’s expression darken. “He won’t, not while I’m around. Nobody is going to put you in a cage while I’m around, so just stop it, stop running away, stop pretending you don’t feel it, stop telling yourself you don’t want me as badly as I want you.”
“I—”
He shook her again and the word was a roar: “Coward!”
She brought them to the floor with a deft leg sweep, landing squarely on top of his chest. He was still holding her shoulders and she stared into his eyes, dark and blazing. “I am a coward,” she said softly, less than an inch from his mouth, “but only when I remember I have something to lose.” Then she bent down and kissed him. His arms were around her a moment later, his mouth opening beneath hers.