Thieving Hearts Read online

  “Food was good, you should order from there again,” he guessed at what she’d been talking about.

  She laughed out loud and gave his leg a light nudge with her knee. He almost groaned out loud when her short skirt shifted just enough that he should see a shadow between her legs. “I was asking about work, Roman. I wanted your opinion about the restaurant. Do you think I should take an extra hostessing shift?” she asked softly.

  Her pretty sky-blue eyes held his like he had all the answers. And fuck he wanted to have them for her. He was nothing compared to this angel, yet she saw something in him nobody else saw. Except maybe her mama. Even her mother had never been able to kick his gangster ass to the curb. He wanted to deserve their regard, he really did. But he just wasn't any better than he was born to be. No matter how hard he tried, he kept getting sucked back into the life. After avenging his friend, he went to work for some of the scariest fuckers on this side of the United States in a bid to wipe the rest of the opposing gang off the map. He’d been obsessed with the Red Brotherhood until there wasn’t a single one left. Hell, he’d even gotten himself arrested so he could take one out in prison.

  Now, Soloman Hart was sniffing around his business. And the offer was good. Almost too good to turn down. But looking at Katie now, touching her soft hands, he didn’t know if it was worth his soul to keep killing for money. She wouldn’t like that. So he decided to answer her question instead.

  “Don’t want you to take any more shifts, baby,” he answered gruffly.

  She blinked at him, startled. He’d never used an endearment with her before. Her tongue peeked nervously out from between her lips and she whispered, “Why, Roman?”

  He sighed heavily and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, marvelling at how delicate it looked with the pale skin and blue veins just beneath the surface. He wanted to suck each finger into his mouth and introduce her to the intense pleasure of eroticism. Soon, very soon.

  “Why don’t you want me to take any extra shifts, Roman?” she asked again, frowning now.

  He realized he was somehow fucking this up. Not that he was surprised. There wasn’t a romantic bone in his body. He was the son of a drug baron and a sex slave. He’d spent half his life in a cartel and half his life surviving in the shadows of these city streets. He didn’t deserve this girl, but fucked if he wasn’t going to take her anyway. His hand tightened around hers when she threatened to pull back. Her gorgeous blue eyes flared wide. Time to tell her the truth.

  “Because no girl of mine is going to be working in that shit restaurant,” he growled.

  Her mouth fell open and he actually did groan out loud this time, picturing his dick sliding right into that moist, unbroken recess. Using it until he’d had his fill while mussing up the perfection of her beautiful blond hair.

  “I-I’m not your girl!” she gasped, her back shooting straight against the cupboard behind her.

  He growled and reached out to take both of her wrists in his hands. Gently but firmly, so as not to bruise his precious madonna, he pulled her forward until she was forced to slide across the cheap tiles of the kitchen toward him. She was too shocked to put up a real fight, but she did twist her hips a little, unknowingly causing her jean skirt to move up her smooth thighs a few precious inches.

  “Roman, what are you doing?” she cried out, trying to pull back. She was tall for a girl, but not even close to him in height and weight. He pulled her right into his lap and held her tight against him, enjoying the rapid flutter of her heart against his chest.

  He used his finger to tilt her chin so she was forced to look up into his eyes. He searched her face and saw in there everything he’d ever hoped and ached for. Fear, yes… but also curiosity, hope and arousal. She was turned on by him. Maybe she didn’t want to admit it. Fuck, maybe she didn’t even recognize it for what it was, but he did. And he would be more than happy to introduce her to the sensation. She gasped and wiggled in his lap, clearly able to feel the evidence of his own arousal branding itself against her bottom.

  “If you don’t fucking sit still, little girl, I’m going to toss you back on this floor and bury myself in you,” he snarled down at you. “Was hoping our first time might be more romantic than that.”

  “Oh god!” she gasped and froze in his arms.

  When he was certain he had her full attention, he began speaking, his gaze boring into hers. “From that first moment you spoke to me and touched me, you belonged to me, Katie girl. I made a vow to your brother, God rest his soul, that I would wait for my girl to grow up before I took her. You’re done growing up now, baby.”

  A whimper of pain escaped her lips at the memory of her dead brother. It was something they shared. While it seemed that the rest of the world had somehow moved on from the murder of Dexter, the two people closest to him never really did. Roman continued to shadow the underworld with his presence, stalking and killing while Katie closed in on herself, never quite able to pull herself out of the numbness of death.

  “Hush, love,” he murmured rocking her. “I’m here for you.”

  He slid his hand into her hair and pulled her head up, his possessive eyes intent on her lips. Before they could touch for the first time, her voice stopped him cold.

  “Please don’t, Roman,” she whispered.

  She lay helpless in his arms. Not even resisting him. He could have easily forced her to submit to his kiss. He knew she wanted him. Had almost from the beginning. He probably could have taken her at thirteen without much of a struggle and taught her to submit. They could have had years together while he moulded her into the perfect mafia girlfriend and, later, wife. But, as always, Katie Pullman held his heart in her tiny hand. And she was asking him to stop.

  “Why?” he demanded, attempting to hide the pain and fury he was feeling from that single word.

  She brought a fist up between their bodies and pushed a little against his chest, trying to put some distance between them. It felt like a stab in the heart. He allowed her a few inches, but that was all. He could see her eyes glowing with fear and determination. He hated it. He knew what that look meant. It meant she wouldn’t go with him. She wouldn’t fucking be his. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder, take her into the bedroom and show her exactly how his life taught him to deal with women like her.

  “I can’t let you, Roman,” she whispered fiercely, never taking her eyes from his. “You’ll take me away from the things I want. If I stay with you I won’t keep my job, I won't finish school and… and I’ll hardly ever see my friends and family. Just try and deny it.”

  She was right. She was absolutely fucking right. He was just surprised she saw through his obsession to the point that she understood exactly what being with him meant. He would isolate her from her family and friends, because he was jealous. She would see her mom and her brother once in a while, because they deserved her love. Her father was a degenerate fuck that did not deserve this angel. She would quit her job immediately and never go back. Roman had more than enough money for both of them. She could go to school for a while if she wanted, but he didn’t see it working out in the long term, because it would eat up too much of her time.

  Her too sharp eyes watched his face like she was some kind of living, breathing lie detector. “Fuck, Katie, what do you want me to say? I don't know, okay? We’ll work it out.”

  His hands tightened around her, but she squirmed in his grip.

  “It’s not okay, Roman. That’s my family you’re thinking about taking away. My hopes and dreams for the future you’d just carelessly crush under your fist. I’m too smart to waste away as the kind of woman you’d want me to be,” she said accusingly, her blue eyes now bright with tears. “This is why we can’t be together.”

  “Enough!” he snarled viciously. He pushed her off his lap so she was on her knees on the floor facing him. He slammed her into the cupboards, hard enough to make the fronts clatter, but he was careful to place a hand behind her shoulder blades to absorb the impact
. Even angry, he protected her. “I’ve waited years for you. I made a vow to a dead guy to wait for you. I’m done fucking waiting!”

  Katie surprised them both when she slapped him. Just hard enough to get his attention. Then she gripped his unshaven chin in her small hand and forced him to look at her furious expression. “Don’t you dare speak about Dexter that way, asshole. He would never have said something like that about you!”

  She wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned forward, pressing her head into his shoulder. Huge wrenching sobs escaped her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks. The anger left Roman as quick as it came, leaving him with horror at what he’d done to his beautiful Katie. Just as he’d done years earlier, he pulled her heaving body into his arms and held her while she cried.

  “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry,” he murmured against the top of her head.

  When she finally calmed down, he lifted her in his arms and carried her through to her bedroom, which he had set up earlier. He laid her gently on the bed and crouched next to her, sweeping the soft strands of blond hair off her forehead while she watched him warily. He smiled sadly at her expression. She was afraid of him. No more curiosity or arousal.

  “We belong together, Katie,” he told her quietly.

  Panic flared bright in her eyes. “Please, Roman,” she whispered, bringing her hand up to clutch his where it touched her face. “Please, just give me more time. I-I’m not ready for this kind of relationship. I think what happened to Dexter… it broke something inside of me. I just need to be alone for a while. I need to go to school and work… I need time to figure out who I am. Alone.”

  He studied her face in the dim light from the hallway and finally nodded. He stood and stepped away from her. She pushed herself to lean back on her hands and watched as he made his way to the door. He stopped and turned for one last long look, as if memorizing every part of her. He pointed that finger at her, the one with her brother’s name tattooed on it, ‘For Dexter.’

  “I’ll come back for you, Katerina.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Katie’s Wedding Day

  This is my redemption.

  Her happiness was in his hands. She wanted a normal life with a normal man. And though Katerina Pullman was anything but normal, Roman would give her the fucking Pope’s head on a platter if that’s what she demanded. A task that would’ve been easier than knowing his woman was being claimed by another. Allowing the woman he loved to marry another man would be his redemption for all the blood on his hands.

  But if this was his redemption, then why did is hurt so fucking bad? More than watching his entire family slaughtered. More than bullet or knife wounds. Knowing Katie was willingly tying herself irrevocably to another man ripped his guts out like nothing else could. He felt cold from sitting alone in the dark warehouse, wearing only a pair of unzipped jeans, but his insides were being eaten up by fire. He was surrounded by the busted shards of his life. Rather than fly up to Seattle and kill her groom, Roman had taken out his rage on the few items he’d collected over the years.

  The only thing he hadn’t been able to tear apart were the books. Her books. He picked up the one he liked best, her favourite, and flipped to Woman with Folded Arms. He loved and hated the replica of Picasso’s famous blue period painting. He loved it because Katie loved it. But he despised it because he knew it called to her, sucked her deep into an abyss where he wasn’t able to follow.

  That was why he had to let her go. Be normal. Maybe Colin Schell, a laid-back West Coast painter, could pull her out of the hellish depression she kept getting sucked into. It was impossible to imagine a killer like Roman, Mexican cartel royalty, exiled from his homeland, would be the man to help her. He wasn’t good. He wasn’t light. He would be more darkness to her dark. He would suck her further into the abyss until she could never hope to claw her way out. Katie was too fucking amazing for that. She was a goddess. She was everything.

  He would let her be free, without the spectre of him. Her freedom would be his redemption, even as he sunk further into the darkness without the hope of her. He would not be free of her though. He didn’t want to be. She had wrapped herself steadily around his heart, her nails piercing right through what was left of the fucker since the moment they met. He hadn’t touched a woman since she was sixteen and he’d decided to just wait her out. Now he was doomed to a lifetime of celibacy. No woman could replace his Katerina. If she didn’t eventually come to him, then he would live the life of a murderous monk. Sleeping, eating and killing until he died.

  Redemption was going to be a bleak and blue balls kind of place to live.

  Roman glared at the textbook and set it aside before he did something unforgivable. Fuck, he needed something to kill before he went back on his hours old vow to himself and took the next flight to Seattle. Katie wouldn’t forgive him if he sank a blade into her brand-new husband. Maybe Roman could just stab him a little? Make it look like a tragic accident. No one would even have to know.

  Fuck, she would know. She was razor sharp and had a sixth sense for when her long-time stalker was near. Dammit. He would just have to wait. Bide his time and watch from a distance. Hide in the shadows until the fucker slipped up. One wrong move, one bad decision with his woman and Roman would be right there, ready to take him down.

  Yes, that was the new plan. Fuck redemption. He was killing her culero husband the second he did something to make Katie cry. Knowing there was no way anyone could love Katerina the way Roman did, he didn’t think he’d have long to wait. She could have her “normal” and her “happy” for now. As soon as she was tired of it, Roman would be right there, ready to swoop in and save her from her own folly.

  He reached for his phone and hit the contact for his boss, Soloman Hart. The man picked up right away.

  “Roman,” he acknowledged coldly.

  Roman didn’t speak for a minute, then he stood and reached for his leather vest, letting the coldness seep into his soul. “Give me a job,” he demanded.

  Give me something to kill.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Present day

  Katie grinned.

  It was like taking candy from a baby. Not that she would ever do something that heartless. She wasn’t a mean bitch. She opened the door to the safe with a small flourish and did a little dance. She almost wished she had an audience. So few people knew what she was actually capable of. Everyone back home thought she was this good little girl with her Master’s degree in art history. They thought she travelled the world in style, buying and selling paintings for wealthy clients.

  Well, technically she did sell paintings. It was the buying part that was a little less crystal clear. She walked into the safe room and looked around, impressed with the sizeable cache of goods. It wasn’t the best she’d ever seen, but it certainly wasn’t the worst either. Paintings, jewels, high-end liquor, and one-of-a-kind brand label clothing lined the beautifully lit room.

  “Concentrate, Pullman,” she reminded herself, when a big, sparkly tiara caught her eye. Such a shame. That beauty would look amazing perched atop her stylish, blond coiffure. Lise Rousseau had no idea how to truly appreciate such a piece. Clearly, since it was sitting in a safe room instead of on the woman’s head while she drank chocolate martinis with her lover on some beach in Portugal. If Katie owned an honest to goodness tiara it would be on her head all the freaking time.

  Katie turned away with a sigh and forced herself to move toward the item she had come for. She eyed the painting for a moment, her azure eyes sweeping over the landscape critically. Each line screamed fruit bowl romantic era. She didn’t get it. But then, she was more of a modern Warhol kind of girl herself. Whatever. It would pay the bills. Lifting it, she retraced her steps, leaving the tiara sadly untouched on her way out. She slipped the painting into the leather folio case she’d brought for that purpose, then closed and relocked the walk-in safe.

  She swung the leather case onto her back and strapped it carefully on before ma
king her way out of the master suite of the Rousseau’s penthouse bedroom. She glanced out the window and pursed her lips in disappointment. Shouldn’t people this rich have a spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower? There seemed to be a building, or several, in the way. If she were them, she’d want her money back.

  Katie climbed out the fourth-floor window she had come in and carefully made her way back along the ledge until she was once more clear of all the building’s security measures. She pulled herself up into a crawl space that had probably been storage once upon a time but was now a pigeon coop. Lucky for her, the building manager hadn’t thought to put a camera on that particular spot. She crawled through the tunnel until she was in the ventilation system and once more back in the building where she quickly exchanged her black leggings and turtleneck for a revealing dress. She mussed up her hair and smeared the make-up she’d carefully applied earlier. She added a pair of sky high heels and tossed a cashmere wrap over her leather bag.

  She took the elevator down to the lobby and stumbled into the marble entranceway with a half ashamed giggle. She shot the concierge and security guard a sexy look from under her long, fake lashes and stumbled against the marble desk, dropping her wrap on the floor. She swung the leather bag into the folds of her skirt so it would go unnoticed. The guard was the first to react when she bent over to adjust her heel as though she hadn’t put it on properly while leaving one of the apartments doing the walk of shame. She knew he would get a superb view directly down the front of her dress, nearly to her naval.

  “Laisse moi aider,” the guard said reaching for the wrap, his eyes never leaving her pale chest. He handed the buttery soft material to her, his fingers caressing her wrist for just a moment.