Free Someone To Steal by Cara Nelson

mind beyond reason.”
    “So they were high.”
    “Not always,” he conceded. “Sometimes they were drunk on the idea of their own revolutionary brilliance.”
    “Aren’t we all?” she asked, leveling a challenging look at him.
    She expected Cain to laugh, but her assertion was met with a sober nod. She felt a surge of triumph at being taken seriously. She reached across the wrapped statue and did what she’d longed to do since she first saw him. She pressed her hand close to his cheek, feeling the rasp of his beard against her sensitive palm. Shutting her eyes, she soaked in the texture and warmth of his skin as if memorizing him. His fingers closed around her wrist lightly and he turned toward her hand, kissing her palm.
    The heat of his mouth unleashed an insistent tug of desire in her chest. Her hands and the soles of her feet tingled, her skin heated. Riley rose up on her knees on the bed and took him in her arms, embracing him for a moment before her mouth found his neck.
    His brown eyes were even darker with desire. He hesitated for a long, long moment. He pressed his mouth to hers, but pulled away at last, stepping away from the bed. The distance, the air between them cooled her considerably. She sat back, dejected, trying to assume a nonchalance she was far from feeling.
    “Well, if you don’t want to take me to bed, let’s get something for supper,” she said with forced brightness. “Fish and chips?”
    “I think I’ll go for a run.”
    “I’ll come along.”
    “I wish you wouldn’t come along with me. I mean, you’re welcome to go for a run, just please take a different route. I’m running to forget you, you see. It would be awkward to have you along.”
    Cain spoke so plainly of his need to resist her, of his intention to put her out of his mind that she wasn’t even insulted. His sophistication, his charm was showing, even in that stupid Big Ben shirt. She felt a rush of tenderness toward him and wanted to lay her hand on his chest fondly, but she wouldn’t allow herself. If he could resist her, she could keep from touching him, surely.
    “How far will you run?”
    “I’d say it would have to be awfully far,” he said, his eyes burning.
    She suppressed a smile. “You know what I appreciate?”
    “What?”
              “You’re maybe the first guy I’ve ever known who didn’t tell me not to go out on my own. Like I was destined to be attacked and that I was helpless. I can’t imagine being in London with anyone else who wouldn’t say ‘don’t go running alone in a strange place’.”
    He gave her a crooked smile. “Kid, you’re the danger to London, not the other way around.”
     

Chapter 6
     
    The flight back to Atlanta was more relaxed, less fraught with anticipation than the trip to London had been. Riley no longer wondered if he was worthy of his legendary thief status. She no longer wondered if she could seduce him. She had answers, even if they weren’t the ones she wanted.
    Riley wrapped the purple scarf around her neck, tying it elaborately according to a diagram she’d found online.
    “That scarf assaults my eyes,” he remarked, looking up from his laptop.
    “Then don’t look at it,” she said playfully, toying with the fringe.
    “It demands attention. It screams to be looked at. It is the Tico of the scarf world.”
    “Tico is not ugly!” she shot back.
    “Aha! You admit the scarf is ugly!”
    “No. Of course not. I know that you think it’s ugly, and you compared my precious kitty to an accessory you hate.”
    “You have to admit the cat refuses to be ignored.”
    “Did he give you the affectionate claws-to-the-neck maneuver?”
    “I fell asleep. Apparently that’s an offense punishable by death among Tico’s people.”
    “Cats are very strict, generally. If you’re unconscious when they’re hungry, you’re asking to be punished.”
    Cain nodded. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars cash to put that scarf in your bag and