Read Online Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense by Shiloh Walker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shiloh Walker
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exactly fall off of trees, Shay.”
Something stilled inside her. Bookmarks … and an ARC—that was something. “It’s not that hard to get your hands on bookmarks, Elliot,” she said softly. “I can show you ten different sites where you order them and have them shipped right to the doorstep. All they need is the artwork—they don’t care if it’s the author or not. They just need the art, and the money.”
She came in here with an advance reader’s copy …
She …
Narrowing her eyes, she studied him closely. “She? It was a woman who came in?”
“Yes.” With a pointed stare, he said, “But then again, so are you.”
Ignoring that, she said, “And you weren’t surprised by her showing up out of the blue?”
“Actually, I was pretty damn surprised. But she had the ARC. She had the bookmarks. What was I going to do, tell her to leave and come back with some sort of written proof? She wanted to sign the damn books!” He looked down at the book he held and then swore, tossing it down by the pile on the floor before turning away to pace.
“The problem with that is that they aren’t her damn books.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection, eyeing the book on the floor.
Mine
, she thought.
They are my damn books
.
“And how in the hell was I supposed to know that?” he growled.
Shay swallowed. “You weren’t, I guess.”
Silence stretched out between them, hanging there like a heavy, musty curtain. Shay shivered, but it had nothing to do with cold. The silence grew so weighted, she jumped when Elliot shattered it with his next words.
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to think about any of this. It’s just too … it’s too bizarre.”
“Tell me about it,” she said. Closing her eyes, she tried to level out, reaching for some sense of calm, of peace. It had always eluded her. Always. But she could fake it. She’d been faking elusiveness, distance, for years, right? Once she thought she could look at him without his seeing that he’d hurt her, she opened her eyes and turned to face him. “You kept saying that you just wanted me to open up … to trust you. You just said it’s okay to need a hand. That’s why I’m here, Elliot … I need help. I’m trying to trust you. But you—”
“Elliot?”
Lorna appeared at the end of the aisle. Shay stiffened. The look on her face was angry. So very angry.
“Not now,” Elliot said, his gaze locked on Shay’s face, eyes burning, intensely hot.
“Yes, damn it. Now. Shay, I’m sorry, but things just went to hell. Elliot, come on.”
“I said not
now
,” he bit off.
“Elliot, damn it!”
As he continued to stare at her, Shay asked softly, “Just tell me one thing, Elliot. Do you believe me?”
His eyes clouded. “Shit, Shay. Hell, I don’t know … this is just …”
“Yeah. It’s just.” Nodding, she edged around him, taking great care to keep as much distance between them as she could. “You think about it, then. Take all the time you need and think about it.”
Not that it would really make a difference. She’d done what she could. She’d reached out. She’d tried. And failed. She could always come back, bring her contracts and shit to convince him, but she didn’t see the point. He trusted a total stranger so easily. But not her.
He caught her arm, tugging her to a stop, but when he tried to ease her closer, Shay leaned away. “Damn it, Shay …”
“Go on,” she said, staring up at him. “You’ve got a business to run and I’ve got things to do.”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
No. We won’t
. She’d be damned if she’d try to convince him.
As he disappeared down the aisle with his sister, Shay lowered her gaze to stare at the book on the floor—her book. The one she’d written—the one she hadn’t signed. Gingerly, she bent over to pick it up. To her satisfaction, her head didn’t start spinning around like a Tilt-A-Whirl—each day was getting a little bit
Something stilled inside her. Bookmarks … and an ARC—that was something. “It’s not that hard to get your hands on bookmarks, Elliot,” she said softly. “I can show you ten different sites where you order them and have them shipped right to the doorstep. All they need is the artwork—they don’t care if it’s the author or not. They just need the art, and the money.”
She came in here with an advance reader’s copy …
She …
Narrowing her eyes, she studied him closely. “She? It was a woman who came in?”
“Yes.” With a pointed stare, he said, “But then again, so are you.”
Ignoring that, she said, “And you weren’t surprised by her showing up out of the blue?”
“Actually, I was pretty damn surprised. But she had the ARC. She had the bookmarks. What was I going to do, tell her to leave and come back with some sort of written proof? She wanted to sign the damn books!” He looked down at the book he held and then swore, tossing it down by the pile on the floor before turning away to pace.
“The problem with that is that they aren’t her damn books.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection, eyeing the book on the floor.
Mine
, she thought.
They are my damn books
.
“And how in the hell was I supposed to know that?” he growled.
Shay swallowed. “You weren’t, I guess.”
Silence stretched out between them, hanging there like a heavy, musty curtain. Shay shivered, but it had nothing to do with cold. The silence grew so weighted, she jumped when Elliot shattered it with his next words.
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to think about any of this. It’s just too … it’s too bizarre.”
“Tell me about it,” she said. Closing her eyes, she tried to level out, reaching for some sense of calm, of peace. It had always eluded her. Always. But she could fake it. She’d been faking elusiveness, distance, for years, right? Once she thought she could look at him without his seeing that he’d hurt her, she opened her eyes and turned to face him. “You kept saying that you just wanted me to open up … to trust you. You just said it’s okay to need a hand. That’s why I’m here, Elliot … I need help. I’m trying to trust you. But you—”
“Elliot?”
Lorna appeared at the end of the aisle. Shay stiffened. The look on her face was angry. So very angry.
“Not now,” Elliot said, his gaze locked on Shay’s face, eyes burning, intensely hot.
“Yes, damn it. Now. Shay, I’m sorry, but things just went to hell. Elliot, come on.”
“I said not
now
,” he bit off.
“Elliot, damn it!”
As he continued to stare at her, Shay asked softly, “Just tell me one thing, Elliot. Do you believe me?”
His eyes clouded. “Shit, Shay. Hell, I don’t know … this is just …”
“Yeah. It’s just.” Nodding, she edged around him, taking great care to keep as much distance between them as she could. “You think about it, then. Take all the time you need and think about it.”
Not that it would really make a difference. She’d done what she could. She’d reached out. She’d tried. And failed. She could always come back, bring her contracts and shit to convince him, but she didn’t see the point. He trusted a total stranger so easily. But not her.
He caught her arm, tugging her to a stop, but when he tried to ease her closer, Shay leaned away. “Damn it, Shay …”
“Go on,” she said, staring up at him. “You’ve got a business to run and I’ve got things to do.”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
No. We won’t
. She’d be damned if she’d try to convince him.
As he disappeared down the aisle with his sister, Shay lowered her gaze to stare at the book on the floor—her book. The one she’d written—the one she hadn’t signed. Gingerly, she bent over to pick it up. To her satisfaction, her head didn’t start spinning around like a Tilt-A-Whirl—each day was getting a little bit
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