Far from being insulted, he just laughed. “As for me, I’m still here despite the risk to my personal safety because you have me totally enthralled.”
“Enthralled?”
“You are an enthralling woman,” he said. “You show up in the rain dressed in a fedora and oversize blazer and carrying a suit bag full of rope and tape on a hopeless quest to rescue a friend trapped on the second floor of a museum. Even when the police arrive, you refuse to give up or show any sense of self-preservation until you are manhandled into the bushes by a stranger and still you show no fear.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not scared,” I pointed out.
“I said I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“They’re just words. You’re still holding me prisoner.”
“I think we both know it’s more for show,” he said. “If you wanted to get away, you could.”
He was right. Now that my head was clear, I remembered all my self-defense lessons, as well as a couple of judo throws. It wouldn’t be difficult to break his hold. I just didn’t want to.
“You’re forgetting the police outside,” I said. “Your screams of pain might attract their attention.”
“I have never once screamed in pain.” He stiffened behind me. “I’ve been shot, beaten, tortured, and stabbed and the most they ever got from me was a groan.”
I bit back a grimace even though he couldn’t see my face. “It sounds like you’re in a dangerous line of work. Or are you just that bad at making friends?”
His body shook with laughter. I felt the gentle press of his forehead against the back of my head. “Why did I have to meet you now? Why couldn’t we have met on a plane? Or in a bar? Or across a crowded room?”
“It would have been cliché,” I said. “You’re an interesting man in an interesting profession. You have to meet someone in an interesting way.”
He gave a contented grunt. “You think I’m interesting.”
“You’re a thief who doesn’t act like a thief. I’m curious to know more about you. Do you like movies?”
“I’m more of an action person,” he said. “I don’t like sitting still for very long.”
“Me neither.” I tipped my head to the side, looked back at him again. “But if you were forced to watch something? If you were tied to a chair and couldn’t get up, what would you choose?”
“Hmmm.” He twisted his lips to the side, considering. “Not horror, thriller, or mystery. Too much like work. Same with action movies. Every job I do now seems to involve some kind of chase. Not romance—I don’t believe in happily-ever-afters—and drama usually puts me to sleep. What’s left?”
“Westerns, comedy, science fiction, and fantasy.”
“I like a good Western,” he said. “And a good laugh. I’m not really into fantasy worlds but superheroes . . . space . . . Star Wars was good. I liked Han Solo.”
“That makes sense. He’s the nexus of true cowboy grit and a cocky, irreverent action hero—flawed, ambitious, egotistical, daring, handsome, and charismatic. I always liked his swagger.”
“What’s swagger?” he asked.
“The combination of confidence and charm.”
“Does he remind you of anyone?” He leaned back against a tree, pulling me with him. I could feel his tension ease, so I relaxed, sinking against his broad chest. “No,” I said, my lips quivering with a smile. “No one at all.”
“Hummph.” He gave a snort of derision. “Are you sure? Maybe you should rethink your answer.”
“If you’re looking for a boost to your massive ego, I think you’re more of a Star-Lord type. He’s the inverse of Han Solo. Cocky yet oblivious, womanizing, facetious, conceited, charming but arrogant.”
He bristled behind me, his voice thick with indignation. “Conceited? Facetious? You obviously know nothing about me.”
“That’s true. I haven’t even had a good look at your face.”
“You’d change your mind if you knew me,” he said. “You’d instantly think Han Solo and not Star-Lord.”
“I look forward to being proven wrong.”
His arm relaxed around me. I could have just pushed it away, but I wasn’t inclined to move, especially since the lights were still flashing on the street, and the police had yet to search the garden.
“Do you have an interesting profession?” he asked.
“I have a business degree and a bunch of soul-sucking, mind-numbing entry-level office jobs under my belt as well as a few retail side gigs. I have too much debt to pursue anything interesting, much less find my passion.”
“Now, that’s a sad story.”
“I shouldn’t have gone into business.” I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. “I’m just not a desk person. I can’t deal with all the distractions in an office. My brain bounces around too much. My parents said I was squirrely when I was a kid—always going off on tangents, never in a straight line.”
“I like squirrels,” he said. “They’re sociable, loyal, athletic, adaptable, and intelligent.”
His words hit me deep inside. Chloe was the only other person I knew who liked squirrels for their squirreliness.
“Check the back,” a man shouted. “She must have had an accomplice.”
“You were right,” I whispered.
“Professional, like I said.” He tensed again, holding me so tight, I could barely breathe. I felt curiously safe with him. If he’d let me go in that moment, I wouldn’t have moved.
Two police officers walked into the garden, sweeping their flashlights back and forth in a cursory search. They spent a few minutes studying the gravel path beneath the window and the grassy lawn beside it. One of them squatted to inspect my branch while the other shone his light on the wall. After a little arguing about whether it was worth searching the bushes in the rain, they turned and walked away.
I heard doors slam. Engines purr. Red and blue lights faded away. When the night was still and silent save for the patter of rain on the leaves above, my captor released me, and we walked carefully through the bushes into the dimly lit garden.
“Do I get to look at you properly now?” I asked, turning. “Or is this going to be a case of ‘If you see my face, I’ll have to kill you’？”
“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said. “I don’t break my promises.”
“I’m glad to hear—” Words failed me when I turned around. He wasn’t traditionally handsome but ruggedly so, with a strong jaw, a straight nose, and a wide, stubborn mouth. His eyes were dark and velvety, sprinkled with gold. Gorgeous. Just like the rest of him. Even partially hidden in the shadows, he was simply the most breathtaking man I’d ever seen.
My knees weakened and I struggled to regain my composure.
I was already dead when he smiled. I died a little more when he brushed back the longish dark hair that was a damp tangle around his chiseled face. He wore a leather jacket over broad shoulders and a gray T-shirt stretched tight across the hard, muscled chest I’d had the pleasure of leaning against for the last twenty minutes. I guessed him to be an inch or two over six feet, maybe slightly less if his battered leather boots had heels.