Thieves Like Us (38 page)

“That’s hot-
tempered,
genius.” She hated to prove the cliché, but he was pushing her limits. Maggie turned to the man next to her. He had biceps like twin picnic hams and had hovered around Rafael DeLuca all evening like he might be a bodyguard. “You want to help me out here?”

The guy sipped his drink—not his first one—and gave her a dispassionate glance. “Nope.”

Rafe smirked. “Baby,” he crooned, “be sensible. I’m about to change your life. See that reporter over there from
The Hollywood Scene
? If I give the signal, your picture will be all over the country by tomorrow, and that little store of yours will be flooded with more customers than you can handle. My name is magic.” He fingered the lock of hair, making sure his hand rubbed against her bare skin at the opening of her blouse.

Her flesh crawled and she brushed his hand away. “My store’s doing just fine already. And if you don’t move right now, I’ll give your paparazzi friend an even better picture to splash across the tabloids.”

He stroked her arm thoughtfully, and she checked to make sure he wasn’t leaving a trail of slime. “You really have to learn to recognize an opportunity when it’s handed to you. Especially when it comes in such a
big
package.” He winked. “I’d think one of the Larkin girls would know all about that.”

Maggie froze. Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

A hard edge touched his smile. “Oh, yeah. People talk, babe. But don’t worry, I can spice up those rumors for you, make you more popular than ever.” His hand slid up her side and found her breast. “I know exactly what you want.”

Rafe’s cool gaze cut into her like a knife, slicing right through the frayed bonds of her temper. She could almost hear them snap.

Cal set his beer down with a thunk. Pretty Boy DeLuca had just put his hand on her again. Damn it, this was not going to end well.

The redhead had captured Cal’s attention even before Rafe DeLuca had hit on her. She was the type who always drew looks, with a smile that sparkled and the kind of lilting laugh that made others smile when they hadn’t even heard the joke. She was certainly a distraction he didn’t need. But, fortunately, DeLuca zeroed in on her, making it easy for him to watch them both.

Cal had to give the woman credit. Her engaging smile had grown stiff within minutes of talking to De-Luca. If that other woman from the
Trust Fund Brats
crew hadn’t claimed Red’s attention, she probably would have slipped away. But instead she got stuck next to DeLuca long enough for the man to feel
possessive
.

Even from across the room, Cal could see the woman didn’t like it. She didn’t look like the type to bow to fame or fortune, either. DeLuca didn’t have much experience with that, so he wouldn’t see it, but Cal did, and in another thirty seconds the whole bar would, too, including the reporters that swarmed after DeLuca like flies around manure.

The last thing Cal wanted to do was draw attention to himself, but he couldn’t stand by and watch another woman be victimized. Red had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Abandoning his beer, Cal shoved through the throng of mostly women who loitered three deep around the bar. The damn reality stars attracted them like magnets.

“Hey, watch it!” A drink sloshed and someone swore. Cal mumbled an apology but didn’t pause. A man grabbed his arm with an angry, “Hey, buddy!” but Cal shook it off, cursing under his breath because he wasn’t going to make it in time. Twenty feet away, Red’s eyes narrowed with icy determination. Maybe DeLuca was too smashed to recognize it, though a ten-year-old could have seen it coming.

Cal watched it happen like a slow-motion accident. The woman raised her left hand to DeLuca’s shoulder. The gesture looked friendly, even to Cal, who knew better, and DeLuca actually smiled. He hadn’t even noticed her right hand drop, taking aim. DeLuca’s lips curved in smug confidence.

She drove her palm upward, smashing into De-Luca’s nose with an audible crunch.

His scream was instantaneous. Reeling backward, he covered his nose with both hands as blood seeped through his fingers.

Shocked silence hung in the air for a second, then pandemonium erupted. People turned, reporters shoved, and a couple of women screamed. A dozen cameras flashed, held high and pointed toward the center of the action, while DeLuca yelled obscenities, blood dripping onto his sparkling white shirt.

Red hadn’t moved. Cal noted the satisfaction in her eyes as he pushed through the onlookers and finally reached her side. He also noted the angrily contorted face of DeLuca’s bodyguard as the man threw his drink aside and lunged at the woman.

Introductions would have to wait. Grabbing her arm, he spun her aside, putting himself in the guard’s path. The man plowed into him like a linebacker. Cal barely had time to turn his shoulder into the blow, and the impact staggered him. It luckily also knocked the wind out of the guard. Muscle Man doubled over, confused and breathing hard.

Behind Cal, Red’s furious yell pierced the bedlam. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re— Oh, shit!” Her objection broke off and he knew she’d seen the even more furious behemoth glaring like a bull ready to charge.

“Get out of here! Now,” Cal ordered without taking his eyes off the guard.

She was smart enough to see the danger. Cal braced himself, ready to deflect DeLuca’s lackey long enough for her to get away. Instead, she pushed around Cal, shoving him aside as she planted her feet and stood ramrod straight, jabbing her finger at DeLuca’s bodyguard.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you incompetent Neanderthal! If you had half a brain you’d take that mentally stunted, oversexed drunk you work for and lock him up in his room until he learns to act civilized!”

Cal felt as stunned as the guard looked. Red was either oblivious or too enraged to notice. Taking a step forward, she balled her fists. “In case you haven’t heard, women aren’t submissive playthings, put on earth to stroke your feeble male egos!”

Cal squinted as two cameras flashed in sync, flaring like a nova. Among the raised cell phones, several professional cameras clicked furiously, recording frame after frame of Red’s tirade and DeLuca’s bloody rant on the sidelines. They’d also probably captured clear photos of Cal. Shit! Grabbing Red’s hand he hissed, “Lady, are you nuts?”

She shook him off, apparently just hitting her stride. She continued her lecture. “Do you even understand what sexual harassment is? Because it’s obviously your job to keep the little pervert in line, and his behavior was beyond inappropriate. No one gets to treat me like that and—”

“Red!” Cal yelled loudly enough to cut through her fury.

“What!?” She whirled on him. “Someone has to tell these superficial morons—”

She couldn’t see the crazed look on the guard’s face, but Cal did. He also heard Muscles snarl, “Bitch,” as he reached into his coat pocket.

Adrenaline shot through Cal. He’d hoped to get out of this without more violence, but that option just evaporated. Bloody noses and barroom tackles were one thing; guns were a whole new set of rules.

“Move! Now!” Grabbing Red’s arm, he yanked hard. She staggered as he released her, but he couldn’t watch to see if she stayed on her feet. The bodyguard extended his arm to the side, the anticipated black metal visible in his hand.

It was Cal’s only chance. In that one moment, while the guard stood with his body wide open and unprotected, Cal jumped forward, throwing a kick directly at the guard’s midsection.

His foot hit flesh, hard. The guard went wide-eyed, grunted, and crumpled. In one continuous move, Cal spun, his gaze finding Red’s. “Go!” he ordered. And because he no longer trusted her to do the sensible thing, he grabbed her hand and charged forward. They dodged through the confusion into the resort’s elegant lobby and through the main doors, out into the cool Rocky Mountain night.

Red clutched his hand and ran with him, finally agreeing with his agenda. She slowed and would have stopped under the front portico, but he tugged her to the right without skipping a beat. They followed the driveway until it split toward the parking lot. He hopped the low flowerbed border, landing on thick, well-manicured grass. She hesitated before making a cautious jump, and he realized she’d been running in high heels. Slowing to accommodate her strides, he rounded the corner of the hotel and drew her into the shadows against the brick wall.

Voices faded. Panting, they listened to a few running footsteps and shouted questions as people dashed outside, looking for them. Paparazzi, if they were lucky; DeLuca’s hired guns, if they weren’t. When Cal was sure they were alone, he finally released her hand. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed, catching her breath.

After several seconds, her breath evened and her eyes opened. She finger-combed her hair and shook it back behind her shoulders. He tried not to notice its silkiness. It was the kind of hair that tempted a man to run his hands up under it to cradle her head when he kissed her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded, taking a deep breath and blowing it out. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” That was the end of the niceties. He gritted his teeth. “You want to tell me just what the fuck you were doing back there?” he snapped.

Fire shot into her eyes as she moved away from the wall faster than he expected.

“I was defending myself.” Her voice was low and controlled, but already seething with fury. “I thought that was obvious. Isn’t that why you jumped into the middle of things in the first place?” She stuck her hands on her hips. “And who the hell are
you,
anyway?”

“I’m the guy who saved your ass.”

They faced off for a long moment until Cal muttered, “Oh, hell. Come on, let’s get out of here before they find us.” He took a few steps toward the parking lot before he realized she wasn’t following him. “What’s the problem now?”

“What makes you think I would go anywhere with you?”

He might have smiled at her attitude if he’d been in a better mood. Unfortunately for them both, he was feeling pretty tense and irritable. “How about because you sure as hell can’t go back in there without causing a bloodbath. And because I’m going to explain to you how you just ruined both our lives. Is that okay with you?”

She stared him down. “No. Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Mine’s in my purse, in my sister’s office. She’s the assistant manager here. I can guarantee she’ll want an explanation for that little scene, and you’re going to help me convince her I was provoked and doing nothing wrong in defending myself.”

That might be hard to do, considering she’d thrown the first punch. But she was holding out her hand, fingers wiggling impatiently, and damned if he wasn’t curious to see how this played out. Besides, he couldn’t leave her alone until she understood just how much danger she was in.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and she snatched it away. Dialing rapidly, she tapped her foot while she waited. Finally, she straightened. “Hi, Zoe, it’s me.”

She winced, and he bit back a smile. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who found her aggravating. “I’ll explain, just let me in the door by the kitchen. I don’t want anyone to see us.” When her eyes flicked up to his, Cal knew her sister had asked who was with her.

“The guy who kicked Mr. Universe in the nuts.”

Smiling sweetly, she snapped the phone shut and handed it back. “Follow me.”

She marched off without a backward glance. He narrowed his eyes at the swing of her hips under her black skirt and weighed his options. His cover was blown. Red had just jumped into more danger than she knew and—taking a wild guess—she was bound to make it worse.

Shoving the phone in his pocket, he marched after her.

Her name was Maggie. He gathered that much during the enraged tirade from the highly polished, younger version of her that was her sister Zoe. To be fair, it was probably the official hotel management duds that made Zoe look so prim and proper—navy blue skirt and blazer, white blouse, and strawberry blonde hair identical to her sister’s but pulled into a neat bun. Maggie’s loose waves went a long way toward erasing any hint of propriety.

So did her attitude.

“I tried not to start something, I swear,” she claimed, brushing by her sister to head down the hall. Cal trailed them to what was apparently Zoe’s office. Maggie paced before the desk, hands alternately combing hair off her neck and gesturing as she spoke. “I told him to get lost several times, but the little perv wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Since Zoe didn’t ask who the perv was, he figured she’d already heard some version of the incident.

“He kept
touching
me.” Maggie glared, looking like she’d like to smack DeLuca again. “And even then I controlled myself, Zoe. I didn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

“But you did.” Zoe stood with arms crossed, unmoved by her sister’s anger.

“Yes, and you know why?” Maggie put her hands on her hips, her pretty pink lips pressed into a tight line. “He said he could give me what I wanted, and he knew I’d like it because—get this—I’m one of
the Larkin girls
.”

Zoe’s arms dropped. “Oh.” Pain crossed her face. Cal definitely had to look into the significance of their supposed last name.

With all the energy sucked out of her anger, Zoe’s gaze finally shifted toward Cal. “Who are you?”

“Cal Drummond. I hauled your sister’s ass out of there before it got really ugly.”

Maggie lifted a hand from her hip. “I was handling it.”

“Bullshit,” he scoffed. “You were asking to get killed. Rafe DeLuca is a dangerous man.”

Her eyes narrowed, a look he was getting used to. “Thanks a lot. I brought you along to back me up, not throw me under the bus.”

“It happened just like she said,” he confirmed to Zoe, then turned a hard look on Maggie. “And it was incredibly stupid.”

“Hey, at least I stood up for myself. I was brave, damn it,” she seethed.

Brave . . . and reckless. The words hit him like an icy splash of water. He’d been attracted to that mix once before and knew how deadly it could be—and how devastating. It was something he never wanted to go through again. He pushed the memory of Diane into the deep well where he kept it and spoke through gritted teeth. “There’s a fine line between brave and stupid, and you plowed right over it.”