Free Too Much to Lose by Samantha Holt

remember she’s a thief?
    Yeah, the damned job. I’m
seriously regretting taking it on. But without it, I stand to lose everything. My
mother lost everything when Dad left and I am not being that man. She worked so
hard to buy the house I now own after we moved from Ireland and to help me
through my courses so I could set up my own business. All the years I put into building
O’Reilly Investigations from the ground up and for what? It’s all going to end
up in the hands of the bank.
    But it won’t— if I can
complete this job. The final payment will cover a few months on Mam’s house and
if I play things carefully, I can invest the rest in gaining some new clients.
    By the time I’m finished in the
bathroom, she’s in the kitchenette and is wearing a robe. Damn.
    Jess offers me a weak smile and
motions to the cup on the countertop. “I made you some coffee. I didn’t know
how you took it but there’s sugar on the side.”
    I eye the cup and grin. “Black.
Perfect.”
    She makes a face. “Yuck.”
    My grin expands. I love seeing
her all make-upless and cute. I imagine I’m probably staring as she fidgets and
places down her coffee.
    “I’ll just go and…” She motions
to the bathroom. “I don’t really have anything for breakfast.”
    “No worries, princess.”
    She shakes her head at the
nickname I have for her and slides past me. The door shuts. I don’t know why
that name suits, but it does. It was intended to be negative. Spoiled little
rich girl. Grew up with rich stepparents, speaks with a refined accent, wears
pricey jeans. But it doesn’t seem to be providing the distance I need and now
it sounds almost affectionate.
    I grab the coffee, drink it
quickly, burn my mouth and pray the caffeine brings me back to my senses. Get
the info and get out. That’s my new motto. Get out before she can draw me
deeper. I dart a look around and go for the paperwork on top of the kitchen
cabinet again but the letter isn’t there now.  There goes that lead. I stuff
the papers back and do a half-hearted search of the cupboards in case it’s in
there. Looks like I’m going to have to turn my attentions to charming Jess and
hopefully getting her to open up enough to give me a way in.
    About fifteen minutes later,
she emerges, make-up in place. She scurries past me in a blue towel, barely
looking my way and goes into the bedroom to dress presumably.
    I clench the edge of the
kitchen side until my knuckles burn. A door—a thin, easily broken down door
stands between me and the woman who is likely now peeling off that towel. I’m
willing to bet her skin is still damp. My mouth dries as I consider how it
would taste. I’d lick my way up those legs to the apex of her thighs, then I’d
throw her down on the bed and sample between her breasts. I don’t need to have
done it to know it would taste like heaven. Her mouth is amazing enough. I
think her skin on my tongue would be the undoing of me.
    “Shit.” I turn and slam my palm
on the counter but the sting does nothing to calm my thoughts.
    “What’s wrong?”
    I whirl and shove my hands in
my jeans in a bid to hide my erection. “Nothing. Just burnt my mouth on the
coffee.”
    Her hair is piled on her head
in some messy bun thing, revealing the arch of her neck. My scalded, dry mouth
is tingling at the idea of tasting it. Those leather trousers hug her rear
again. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she dresses to tease me but let’s face
it, she could probably wear a sack and I’d still find her hot.
    “Sorry, I was never very good
at making coffee.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
    “You want to go for breakfast?”
I spill out. I had meant to work up to it. I’m so off my game, it’s not
even funny.
    “Oh, um…”
    “As a thank you, for… you know—”
I motion to my bloodied T-shirt and grin “—saving your life.”
    Even under the make-up, I see a
blush pervade her cheeks. “I really am grateful…”
    Jess twists her