Page 13 of Forever a Thief

Heaving out a sigh, I run a hand through my messy hair and look around the swank villa. Truthfully, I don’t mind hanging out here a little longer. It’s lovely, and I can hear the low sound of waves crashing against the shore through the open windows. It’s soothing. And after a night like I’ve had, a little soothing doesn’t feel so bad.

After flipping off the lights and settling down on the most comfy couch I’ve ever encountered, I tuck a soft chenille blanket around me and cuddle into a pile of pillows. My mind replays tonight’s events, and I wonder who Laurent really is and what he does. I assume he must be a businessman or entrepreneur. Someone with an important job who makes a ton of money. Maybe he got stabbed because someone is out to steal something important he’s working on. He could be an inventor. What if he holds the plans for some amazing new object or idea that will change the course of mankind and technology? Something that could help the military maybe. And thieves or terrorists are out to steal it.

Reeling myself back in from all the wild stories I’m concocting in my head, I tuck a hand under my chin, remembering when I almost couldn’t open Charlie’s Place because of a lack of funds. I’d run into so many problems—compliance and inspection issues I hadn’t been aware of—and the skyrocketing costs nearly forced me to shut the restaurant down before it ever even opened. But then Ryland helped me out of my financial troubles. When business began booming, I tried to pay him back, but he refused to take a dime. He said it was an investment. Funnily enough, he’s never asked for a return on his investment.

Curling onto my side, it occurs to me that as much as I love running Charlie’s Place, something’s been…missing. I know exactly what, too. Just like Alice before she found Wonderland, I’ve lost my “muchness.” My day-to-day life has become nothing but a routine where I get up, work all day and then return home and crawl into bed. I have no personal life.

But after falling down this crazy rabbit hole with Laurent?

Well, for the first time in a very long time, I’m starting to feel like myself again. A woman who always secretly wanted her own adventure. And it feels really damn good.

Chapter Five: Laurent

The sun shines through the window, landing on my face, and I crack an eye open. Too bright. Turning my head, the events of last night come crashing back, and I sit up fast. Probably too fast. My head swims for a moment before a dull ache and the pull of the bandage on my side reminds me I was stabbed. But I don’t focus on that. No, I’m remembering the gorgeous woman who is hopefully still here.

A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand tells me it’s still early. Only a little past seven. Hopefully Savannah is not a morning person. Or at least she isn’t today.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I slide off the mattress, walk straight out the bedroom door and spot Savannah sleeping soundly on the couch. Something akin to relief passes through me as I wander closer to study her.

I’m not intending to be creepy, but I can’t drag my eyes away. She’s lying on her side, hands tucked beneath her chin, and surrounded by a pile of pillows. The chenille throw is pooled around her waist, emphasizing an hourglass figure I’d like to skim my hand down. Her dark blonde hair is swept back from her face and long lashes fan her cheekbones. So damn beautiful. There’s also something innocent about her which attracts me. Like the thief I am, I wonder how I can steal her. How I can make this woman all mine.

Hmmm. Since I’m not a kidnapper, and have no intention of becoming one, maybe I can at least figure out a way to steal more time with her. Because the truth is, I’m not yet ready to say goodbye. I’ve always had a penchant for beautiful things. And Savannah is the loveliest creature I’ve ever encountered.

I’ve always thought The Heart of Azure was the most beautiful thing in the world, but now I’m not so sure. I think Savannah may just outshine it.

The object of my attention sighs softly and rolls onto her back. Her smoky sage eyes flutter open and she startles when she sees me, jerking the blanket up to her chest.

Holding my hands up to soothe her, I know I should take a step back. But I do the opposite, drawn closer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The gears are turning in my head now. I’ve decided I want more time with her, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. Even if it means exaggerating a tad. So what I’m about to say next might be more BS than truth, but better to be safe than sorry. That’s how I’m going to justify this, anyway.

“I’m worried you might be in more danger than I originally thought—for helping me.”

“What?” Her pretty eyes widen, looking more gray than green, and they remind me so much of the stormy summer skies back in the French countryside I used to roam when my mom was still alive. Gray and tumultuous, but beautiful. Days I miss, but days that are long gone. “Why? Who is after you?”

That’s a complicated question to answer. At the same time, I have nothing to hide. “You know what Addison Mills and her friends really do, right? Or…did?”

Tucking the blanket beneath her arms, her brow pinches. “My sister Harper told me they used to be involved in some, er, shady things. But not anymore.”

“They were a ring of thieves,” I clarify. “They pulled heists and stole valuable items.” I lock eyes with her, pulling no punches. “Addie’s crew has gone legit, but I have not.”

“You’re a thief?” she practically whispers.

“Everyone is a thief,” I say easily. “Some people steal time, others steal your piece of mind. Ever cut in line? Take a hotel amenity or a pen from somewhere? Or try to beat someone to a parking spot and steal it first?”

“That’s different.”

“Everyone is a thief,” I repeat, the corner of my mouth lifting in a smirk. “Just to different degrees.”

“So, last night…” Her nose scrunches, and I zero in on the smattering of freckles across the bridge that trails down over the top edge of her cheekbones. There’s nothing I’d like more than to kiss each one. “Did you steal from the man who stabbed you?”

“No, quite the opposite. He stole from me.”

“What did he take?”

“Something I’ve wanted for a very long time. A book. And I’m going to get it back.”

She doesn’t need to know why I want this particular copy so badly, or how it will lead me to the real prize.