Free Taming the Fire by Sydney Croft Page A

like a son, and in turn Mose learned from Abe everything he could about money laundering and various other activities that weren't exactly aboveboard. And so, ten years after they'd left their roots and their home behind, Mose had turned himself into ML, one of the most successful money launderers on the East Coast—and one of the hardest to get to as well. And Meg had spent her time playing with other people's money—and ultimately, their lives.
    “You've got people on your tail, Coco.” Mose used her call name, the one she utilized when she was hacking. “I think you should come here—I'll send a jet for you.”
    She could fly to Florida and spend her days behind Mose's gorgeous, gated-wall mansion. Right now, her biggest concern was Interpol and a man who'd been tracking her to the ends of the earth.
    Possibly, a man she'd thought was long dead.
    There were many, many people she'd stolen money from over the years, all of them pissed off beyond belief, not the least of whom was the ultrapowerful Itor Corp, who her brother had been forced to tell her the truth about after she'd inadvertently interrupted a deal they'd been making with the Taliban. But most of her targets were wealthy, corrupt individuals, and as far as she knew, none of them had ever had their lives threatened because of what she'd done, except for Ryan. That transaction had happened nearly five years earlier—and to this day she had no idea if he was dead or alive.
    The thought that she might have been responsible for a man's death—even a man who'd betrayed her as badly as he had—haunted her daily.
    You were stupid to trust him anyway , she'd told herself fiercely, time and time again. Because a man had once promised to take care of her sister, Mary, and that man had dumped her sister at a city hospital, where she died in a room stuffed with eight people and the minimum of medical care. So for Ryan to convince Meg that he could be there for her—that he wouldn't abandon her, had taken almost a year. A year of talking every day, sometimes for hours, online.
    He knew everything about her—about her religious upbringing, her fears, her past.
    Ryan had given her enough erotic fodder to last her a lifetime of dreams, had made her blush and laugh with his frank descriptions of what he wanted to do to her when he finally met her. He'd loved her shy descriptions of what she wanted to do with him, and gradually, she'd gotten bolder.
    So yes, he'd known it all, and then, on the day they were supposed to finally meet, face-to-face, he hadn't shown. She'd sat at a café very much like this one, and she'd waited. For six hours—just the way Mose had for his girlfriend, and then she'd gone home and she'd stolen money right out from under him—a big transaction she'd promised she wouldn't touch.
    Twenty-five million dollars.
    When she'd intercepted the money transfer to Ryan from the gunrunners who were making a trade, it had been thanks to a tip-off from Mose.
    According to ML, Ryan had arms dealers and terrorists after his ass immediately following the transfer—and then neither of them heard anything. For all intents and purposes, Ryan had dropped off the face of the earth.
    From that time on, much to her brother's dismay, Meg gave all her money to hospital charities. Lately, it was getting harder to top herself, to get the thrill she used to from stealing from the extreme rich. Yes, it still gave her pleasure to know the money went to good use, as she never owned more than she could carry with her at any given time. It was how she'd grown up, and how she traveled with such ease.
    She'd also never given up on prayer, even though in the Amish tradition it stated that prayer and God had given up on her when she left the faith.
    She chose not to believe that she'd been abandoned that easily. She'd heard in recent weeks that Ryan was alive—and that his eye was on her ass.
    “I'm not planning on staying here much longer—I've got a flight out tomorrow.”