Read Online The Family Jewels by Christine Bell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christine Bell
Ads: Link
shifted from foot to foot without looking directly at him, sure that her eyes would tell the tale. Her adrenaline was off the charts and her whole body was thrumming with the need to move.
Fight or flight, at your service.
He was right about one thing. Time was not on her side. She made a decision on the fly that she hoped she wouldn’t live to regret.
"Look,” she moistened her dry lips and squared her shoulders, “why don't we skip the nonsense and you tell me what you want? Clearly, you have an agenda of your own, or else you'd have contacted the authorities. Both times. So what's it going to take?"
That was as close as she wanted to get to offering him a bribe, because she still wasn't sure what his game was. Could he be a cop or some Interpol agent who was investigating Hannigan for illegal activity? Or was he just a bored, rich friend compelled by the mystery of the pretty little chameleon?
She froze as one other possibility teased at her mind...
And suddenly all the other options fell to the wayside as the truth became as clear as glass.
"He's your mark," she whispered incredulously.
Holy shitballs. It made perfect sense. Jake hadn’t called the cops on her because his own motives were just as dirty. He needed her out of the way because she was mucking up the works for him and his own con.
“Hannigan is your mark,” she repeated, not bothering to frame it as a question.
He offered her a clipped nod. "He is."
"And he's also mine."
Things had just gotten a whole lot more interesting. The shaking in her hands stopped and her brain buzzed with new possibilities. Could she entice him with a promise of the cut? Or get him to cut her in on whatever he was doing? This could be big. Huge, even.
“So what do you suggest we do now?” she asked softly.
“You’re not going to want to hear this but I’m going to need you to walk away and let this one go. I’ve got plans and you’re tromping all over them like a moose in a rose garden.”
He paused and took a step toward her and then another, closing the gap between them until only a few inches remained.
“And that’s not a suggestion, Countess.” His voice was low and silky, but there was no mistaking the edge there.
She swallowed hard and forced herself not to take a step back even as the scent of Irish Spring washed over her, doing terrible things to her insides.
"Maybe we could work together,” she managed. “Like partners.”
“I work alone.”
“But-”
He uncrossed his arms and held up a finger to silence her. “Let’s not forget, lass, I’m supposed to be here tonight. If I get caught, my presence here is easily explained. Yours, however…”
He didn’t have to remind her. She could almost hear the sands trickling through the hourglass. Time to cut her losses. He wasn’t calling the cops and she wasn’t going to jail, which was more than she had hoped for even two minutes before. And it wasn’t like she was leaving empty-handed.
“Fine. I’ll go.” She kept her tone as steady as she could. “If you just move to the side and let me pass-”
“I will. But I’m going to need whatever you took before you go,” he murmured softly, turning to block her body with his as she attempted to shimmy by him.
Shit.
“I totally would, but I didn’t get anything yet.” She shrugged and held up her empty hands with a rueful smile. “I was just going for the safe behind the painting when you came in." She made to move past him again, but he was like a wall of muscle, hard and immobile.
"I don’t have time for games right now, Sadie. Are you sure you don’t have anything?” His gaze hammered into hers and it took everything she had to hold it.
She swallowed hard as he glanced at her bag.
"I told you. I didn’t have a chance to hit the safe yet." She handed him the bag and he took it but didn’t bother to open it. The smile she'd noted on each occasion they'd met appeared again, but this time it took on a knowing quality she
Fight or flight, at your service.
He was right about one thing. Time was not on her side. She made a decision on the fly that she hoped she wouldn’t live to regret.
"Look,” she moistened her dry lips and squared her shoulders, “why don't we skip the nonsense and you tell me what you want? Clearly, you have an agenda of your own, or else you'd have contacted the authorities. Both times. So what's it going to take?"
That was as close as she wanted to get to offering him a bribe, because she still wasn't sure what his game was. Could he be a cop or some Interpol agent who was investigating Hannigan for illegal activity? Or was he just a bored, rich friend compelled by the mystery of the pretty little chameleon?
She froze as one other possibility teased at her mind...
And suddenly all the other options fell to the wayside as the truth became as clear as glass.
"He's your mark," she whispered incredulously.
Holy shitballs. It made perfect sense. Jake hadn’t called the cops on her because his own motives were just as dirty. He needed her out of the way because she was mucking up the works for him and his own con.
“Hannigan is your mark,” she repeated, not bothering to frame it as a question.
He offered her a clipped nod. "He is."
"And he's also mine."
Things had just gotten a whole lot more interesting. The shaking in her hands stopped and her brain buzzed with new possibilities. Could she entice him with a promise of the cut? Or get him to cut her in on whatever he was doing? This could be big. Huge, even.
“So what do you suggest we do now?” she asked softly.
“You’re not going to want to hear this but I’m going to need you to walk away and let this one go. I’ve got plans and you’re tromping all over them like a moose in a rose garden.”
He paused and took a step toward her and then another, closing the gap between them until only a few inches remained.
“And that’s not a suggestion, Countess.” His voice was low and silky, but there was no mistaking the edge there.
She swallowed hard and forced herself not to take a step back even as the scent of Irish Spring washed over her, doing terrible things to her insides.
"Maybe we could work together,” she managed. “Like partners.”
“I work alone.”
“But-”
He uncrossed his arms and held up a finger to silence her. “Let’s not forget, lass, I’m supposed to be here tonight. If I get caught, my presence here is easily explained. Yours, however…”
He didn’t have to remind her. She could almost hear the sands trickling through the hourglass. Time to cut her losses. He wasn’t calling the cops and she wasn’t going to jail, which was more than she had hoped for even two minutes before. And it wasn’t like she was leaving empty-handed.
“Fine. I’ll go.” She kept her tone as steady as she could. “If you just move to the side and let me pass-”
“I will. But I’m going to need whatever you took before you go,” he murmured softly, turning to block her body with his as she attempted to shimmy by him.
Shit.
“I totally would, but I didn’t get anything yet.” She shrugged and held up her empty hands with a rueful smile. “I was just going for the safe behind the painting when you came in." She made to move past him again, but he was like a wall of muscle, hard and immobile.
"I don’t have time for games right now, Sadie. Are you sure you don’t have anything?” His gaze hammered into hers and it took everything she had to hold it.
She swallowed hard as he glanced at her bag.
"I told you. I didn’t have a chance to hit the safe yet." She handed him the bag and he took it but didn’t bother to open it. The smile she'd noted on each occasion they'd met appeared again, but this time it took on a knowing quality she
Similar Books
