Stepbrother Thief (18 page)

“Everything alright?” Aveline asks as she walks in and pauses, arms crossed over her ample chest. As soon as she sees Gill's face, she nods once, and turns back to head into the kitchen. The hell is going on here?

“Gill, you're scaring me,” I tell him, but he swallows once and lifts a hand, palm up.

“I have everything under control,” he tells me, but those words only serve to further freak me out.

“What is there to have under control?” I start thinking about the authorities, about them zoning in on this place, surrounding us with SWAT team members or something. I mean, how serious is an international jewelry heist anyway? Ugh. I sit up straight and tuck some blonde hair behind my ear. “Tell me, Gilleon. I have a right to know.”

“You do,” he says, and I breathe a small sigh of relief that I won't have to wrestle with his stubbornness today. He's wearing his gun again, right out in the open in a shoulder holster. Seems to be a normal part of the uniform as of late. Aveline tells me that the neighbors all think Gill's a detective who does a lot of undercover work. Go figure. “But I have good and bad news. Which one do you want first?”

“Always the good,” I say, because the good can always temper the bad. I don't want my happy news tainted and tossed in as an afterthought. I clutch my cell in my lap and meet his eyes, relieved that he's decided to treat me like an adult for once. I know how stingy Gill can be with information.

“You can call your family, give them the story we originally agreed on.” I nod, trying to remember all the details. Knowing Gill, he's got some dossier somewhere that outlines it all. “You can even call your friends in Paris if you want.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, I can almost swear they've darkened a shade or two. “But you might want to wait a while longer. I'll let you make that decision when you hear the rest of the story.” I nod and wet my suddenly dry lips. On the positive side, Gill's being respectful enough to include me in the current goings-on. On the other hand … if that's his positive news, then what's the bad? “As far as the authorities,” he continues without changing his wary expression, “you can leave that concern at the door. We're in the clear.”

“Oh my God.” I put a hand to my chest, feeling a huge weight lift off my shoulders. No authorities? How? How does someone just get away with a haul worth over a hundred million dollars? “Are you serious, Gill?” I swing my feet to the floor and lean forward, a thrill of excitement shooting through me. Guess all of the sacrifices were worth it—leaving everything behind, vanishing without a word, letting Aveline wipe us from the system.

Gill smiles softly at me, but his fingers are curled around the arms of the chair, the tattoos on his index and middle finger blue-black in the glow from the table lamp. I'd been reading when he came in, some terribly depressing literary fiction that Cliff had recommended. Spoiler: everyone dies at the end. I'm not even entirely certain how that happens since the whole thing is about a group of ladies who own a yarn shop …

“There can't be any bad news with all of that good,” I tell him, still smiling broadly. “Now I can stop waking up to the neighbor's shouting. When she really gets going, I start having dreams about the CIA breaking into my room and finding me in my underwear.”

Gill laughs and runs his fingers through his hair, watching me carefully, studying my face.

“Do you accept my apology?” he asks, changing the subject. I pause for a moment and look down at the phone again. It's a sappy, stupid apology, but it feels sincere. Anyway, I'm not one for holding grudges.

“While I still feel what you did was inappropriate,” I decide to clarify here because, honestly, that kiss was half me, “taking me out and questioning me like that, making the accusation that you did, I do forgive you, Gill. Let's just forget it, okay?” I set the phone on the coffee table and lean back into the pillows.

Maybe I should tell him about Solène? Maybe that's what a truly mature person would do, someone who's completely and utterly moved on?

But I can't.

I know Gill, how perceptive he is, how smart. And I know he knows me, even if it's been a while since we last saw each other. He should be able to figure it out. I just want to see him put the effort in.

Why?

My subconscious asks a question that my conscious can't seem to answer.

“Thank you, Regi. Really. I didn't mean for things to go the way they did yesterday.” He pauses for a moment, thoughts flickering over an unusually expressive face. When his jaw sets firm, I have to brace myself for what's going to come next. “But I did mean what I said about … about being jealous. And about you being my constant.”

I take a breath to stop him before he really gets going, but he leans forward, boots squeaking against the hardwood floor, muscles sliding beneath his skin, tattoos dark and mesmerizing.

“And I meant that kiss.”

“Gilleon.”

“I want to talk about what happened.”

“We can talk about the kiss later.”

“It's not the kiss I want to talk about,” he says with an intensity in his gaze that makes me shiver. “I want to talk about the day I left.”

My heart turns to ice in my chest, and I can't seem to hold his eyes, so I look away, at the rug on the floor beneath the coffee table.

“But right now, I have to tell you the bad news first.”

“What could be worse than talking about that day?” I try to make it a joke, but it just sounds sad to me. I smile anyway.

Gill takes a breath, shoulders rising and falling as he sits back and looks at the ceiling for a moment.

“The robbery was never reported to the authorities.”

“Never …” I start and then wrinkle up my brow. “How is that even possible? How does a hundred million in jewels go missing and nobody talks about it?” Gill's good at his job, but not
that
good.

“The reason I hit that store was the same reason you got hired to work at it,” he tells me, his voice grave and full of a thousand and one regrets that hang heavy in the air around us. If only the tang of regret could make up for a decade lost. “The man who owns that shop … he's owned me for the last ten years of my life.”

Gill stands up suddenly and buries his fingers in his hair, closing his eyes against a grimace of pain. The expression crosses his face suddenly and without warning, fading away just as quickly. It could be that whatever he's trying to tell me is taking its emotional toll on him, but …

“Let me see your shoulder,” I tell him, standing up and tossing my blanket back on the couch. Gill takes a step back from me, almost like he's afraid of what I'm going to do to him. Silly that, though, because I don't think Gilleon's afraid of anything at all. “Did something happen today?”

“Nothing that I couldn't handle,” he says, but he doesn't pull away when I close the distance between us, reaching my hands up and sliding my fingers under the short sleeve of his shirt. It's tighter on this shoulder than the other, something I should've noticed when he first walked in. Underneath the dark blue fabric, a square of white is taped to Gill's skin, just the faintest hint of red peeking through. Obviously the wound's been doctored, probably by someone far more adept at this sort of thing than I am, but I feel my heart start to pick up speed.

“Did you …”

“I got shot,” Gill says, matter-of-factly, in a voice I might use if I was telling a girlfriend about a cat scratch. “Well, more like I was grazed by a bullet. It's not a big deal.”

He reaches up and takes my hand with such gentleness that my breath hitches. With all of the power in his body, he could snap my fingers with a squeeze of his fist. But he doesn't. And he won't. Not to me anyway. At least, I want to believe that, that some of the old Gill is still in there keeping this new badass persona of his in check.

“It's a big deal, Gilleon,” I tell him, wondering if the person who tried to shoot him was the same one that tried to shoot me. “What's going on? Please, I know you like to keep things to yourself, but I have a right to know if there's a serious threat to my family.”

“Am I still included in that?” he whispers, his voice far too husky, too intimate for the close space we're currently occupying.

I make myself take a step back.

“That's one of those questions that sounds so simple, but in actuality, it's the most complicated thing there is. I don't have an answer for you right now, Gill. I'm sorry.”

When I look up at his face, I can see the walls crashing back into place, hiding his emotions away behind a safety blanket of steel.

“I guess it's time for the bad news then?” I ask, trying to smile, to lighten the mood. I feel like my muscles are made of molasses, slow and heavy, refusing to obey my command. Gill stares right back at me, his eyes darkening like the sea before a storm.

“Karl. You've heard the name before. That's the man whose employee took a shot at you. He's got a grudge against me, a hundred million in missing diamonds, and the means to get them back.”

“I know you don't want to betray Gill's confidence, but I need to know if I made a mistake in coming here. I …” I glance back at the hallway door, leaning against the wall in Gilleon's office while I watch Aveline do whatever it is that she does on the computer. “I need to know if dragging my aging stepfather and my daughter to the States is going to get them
killed.
” I hiss the last word and then run my hands down my face.

I tried to sleep last night, but couldn't get my eyes to close without a conscious effort. Even then, my brain swam with what-ifs and whys, trying to convince me that this'll all be worth it in the end. Whether that'll be the case or not, I don't know, but what I do need to know is this: why did Gill need my help in the first place. I know why I gave it, but why did he want it? After his cryptic declaration last night, Aveline came into the living room and the two of them started talking security concerns, leaving me to puzzle out his words alone.

So. All I know is this: the man who tried to have me shot has a grudge against my stepbrother, a grudge that goes beyond the missing jewelry if my intuition is dead-on. And it usually is.

Aveline pauses, shuts her laptop and then swivels to face me, leaning back and letting her red hair trail across the desk behind her.

“Gill and I, we won't let anything happen to you guys. Besides, Seattle is our home base. We've got more than just me and him on this one. You'll be safe here, even if it is getting a little old, sitting inside all goddamn day.” I wonder if she's talking as much about herself with that one as she is me. “Truthfully, I don't exactly know the whole story, only that this job, this heist, it was what Gill needed to break ties with Karl.”

I blink in surprise at that one.

“Gill was working with Karl?” I ask, trying to figure out what could've happened for Gilleon to turn on the guy, to decide that involving his family was worth the risk. Or maybe he doesn't think of us as family? Me, I'm just the stepsister/ex-fiancée while Solène … and Gill barely even keeps in contact with his own father.

If that's the case, what was up with that question last night?

“Yeah, I mean … I can't tell you any details, but he was working with Karl
and
with us for years. Didn't want to be though. I have no idea what that man held over his head, but it must've been bad for Gill to keep putting up with it.”

“So he was like, a double agent or something?”

“Something like that,” Gill says, appearing in the doorway like a ghost, a slight smile drifting on his lips. “I see you two are getting along?”

“Well, we both hate you, so it makes it easy for us chicks to chat,” Aveline says, smacking her gum and standing up out of the chair. “I'm gonna go do a quick perimeter check, maybe flash my boobs at that nosy neighbor of yours. Every time I walk the property line, she lifts her blinds up and glares at me through the window until I'm done.”

Aveline rolls her eyes as I smile and watch her walk out of the office and disappear down the stairs.

“If you have questions,” Gill begins, but I shake my head, uncrossing my arms from my chest and letting them fall to my sides. I notice Gilleon's gaze follow the movement, his eyes tracing the line of my body beneath the emerald green sheath dress. His look doesn't stop at the hem, dropping down to the bare curves of my calves and pausing at the sexy black pumps on my feet before he raises his face to meet my gaze.

The attention doesn't go unnoticed by either of us, my body warming and my thighs clenching unconsciously. Old habits are hard to break, and Gill is a gorgeous specimen of humanity. Besides that, his smell is overpowering, simple and spicy and sweet. I want nothing more than to get up on my toes, press my breasts into his chest, and kiss the side of his strong neck, breathe in his smell.

“You can ask me anything,” he says and I raise a brow.

“I can ask, but that doesn't mean you'll answer,” I say, brushing some of my hair back and watching him take in my makeup—the dewy eyes, the highlights on my cheekbones, the nude lip. Almost impulsively, I suck in a deep breath.