Free Thieves In The Night by Tara Janzen

real bad,” she said bluntly.
    “Let’s just say I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and on the wrong end of the totem pole.” That’s right, Jaz, he thought, win her over with the unvarnished truth. Two years had made the screw-up easier to live with, but only to a point—which didn’t include broadcasting his mistake to all comers. On the other hand, that disaster had led him into this one, led him into this night and to this woman. If he got on his afternoon flight the next day, he’d be in Cozumel before the sun set, and sure as hell he’d be setting himself up for a bout of sleepless nights haunted by exotic blue eyes and a golden mane of silky hair. He couldn’t desert her. His responsibility for her precarious position was one reason. The woman herself was a bigger one. She triggered feelings he’d been out of touch with for a long, long time, and he was thoroughly intrigued, with her and with his response.
    So he had a few secrets of his own, Chantal thought. Let him keep his and she could keep hers. No more should be asked of strangers.
    She redirected the conversation. “What about the police?”
    “Jimmy might have called them in on your trick, but he sure as hell isn’t going to call them in on mine.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “In a way I guess you could say I did you a big favor by bumping into you.” She gave him a look that told him in no uncertain terms he was stretching his luck.
    “Okay,” he conceded. “Maybe not a favor, but I can do one for you now.”
    “Why?” she asked. It would be so easy for him to walk away.
    Good question, Jaz thought. Damn good question. His gaze wandered from her bare feet and the pearlescent polish on her toes, to the damp blond waves curling over her lavender corduroy shirt. So many contradictions in such a small package.
    She was tough enough to pull off a complicated heist without a flicker of hesitation, step by step, with a mind like a steel trap. She hadn’t even flinched when he’d walked in on her. She had sized him up with a burning concentration he’d felt all the way across the library and then she’d taken care of business.
    Soft enough to care when he’d needed her, and even softer each time he’d kissed her. Her full lower lip had trembled beneath his, her tongue teasing the inside of his mouth and driving him just a little bit wild. Sweetness, passion, and intelligence. He doubted if he’d ever be the same after spending the night with this woman named Chantal Cochard.
    But the wariness in her azure eyes warned him that he couldn’t tell her those things, so he opted for the strictly logical.
    “Because you deserve my help,” he said. “I wouldn’t have made it without you—not on the roof, not on the mountain . . . and not in the bathtub.” A hint of a grin once again teased the corner of his mouth, deepening the crease in one lean cheek.
    She blushed at the memory and lowered her gaze. “I won’t run, Jaz. I can’t run.”
    “Can you hide?”
    She glanced up. “That bad?”
    “That bad, Chantal.” He reached out and cupped her chin in his palm, barely resisting the urge to draw her close and taste her mouth again. “Sandhurst is going to tear this town upside down and inside out looking for what I took from him, and he’s going to start on that hot trail we left. I was careful—he won’t track us to your cabin—but people like you usually have a reputation, and he’s got a lot of connections. Does he know who you are?”
    “Know me?” she blurted out. “That crook tried to steal my commission!”
    His face became very still, his voice very soft. “What kind of commission?”
    “Real estate,” she informed him, and Jaz felt his heart sink. “If it hadn’t been for Elise, he might have gotten away with it, too. But she’s a barracuda.”
    “Who is Elise?” He was almost afraid to ask.
    “My aunt, and my broker.”
    “Great.” He moaned, dropping his head into his hands. “I suppose