“I’m not…a fighter. I’m not the bold one who stands out in the crowd.”
Bullshit. There could be a crowd of a thousand people, and he would always see her.
“I’m different with you. I want to risk more. I want to do more.” A little furrow lined her brows. “When I think you’re in trouble, I go a bit crazy. I was ready to race back to be with you—Iwouldhave raced back if Constantine hadn’t stopped me.”
He’d have to remember to thank Constantine. No way should she have come back in there and seen him getting even more violent with Preston.And why not?
Because I don’t want her to witness just how cruel I can be.
“Remy, can you really forge priceless works of art?”
“In my sleep.” A bitter response. “If you’d looked under any of those sheets and tarps at the cabin, you would have seen work beautiful enough to make you cry.” Was he bragging? Nope. Just truth. “I was trained to make them, from a very, very young age. Most kids have dads who teach them how to ride a bike without training wheels. My dad had a paintbrush shoved into my hand for as long as I can remember. He wanted me and my sister to be absolutely perfect at our craft. The craft just so happened to be forging art that he could then swap for the real deal.”
“I’m sorry.”
Why did she keep saying that? “For what? You didn’t make me create the forgeries.” Brutal truth time. “When I got older, I knew what he was doing. I didn’t stop. It took a long time…”And the life of my sister being on the line.“A long time before I changed things. Like I told you, I’m not the hero you want.”
“I think you are.”
His back teeth had snapped together. Remy gritted, “Why can’t you understand what I’m telling you? Youshouldn’tbe touching me. I lied to you. And maybe I will take the twenty million and vanish. Have you considered that? Maybe I’m using you right now. Other people think I am. Hell, I’m pretty sure Constantine even thinks that. I’m playing the hero, telling you all the right things, and when the time comes, when you’ve opened the safe and disarmed your grandfather’s trap, I’ll create some kind of distraction. I’ll vanish, and you’ll never see me or the money again.”
She…shook her head.No.
“Jacqueline…”
“Have I told you how much I enjoy the way you say my name?” She inched closer. Her bare feet curled into the carpeting. “I used to think my name was stuffy. Kind of cold. But you make it sound beautiful.”
Everything about her was beautiful. He saw that truth with stunning clarity now.
“You’re not after the money.” She leaned up on her tiptoes.
“How do you know?” he breathed.
“Because I don’t think you’d tell me if you were planning to steal it. Doesn’t really seem like the smart planning of a master thief such as yourself.” Her lips werealmosttouching his. Maybe two inches separated them.
He lowered his head a bit more toward her.Now just one inch.“Maybe it’s exactly what a master thief would do. Maybe I knew you wouldn’t believe me because you’re too trusting. Too naive. Preston used those traits against you, and perhaps I am, too.”
“You’re nothing like him.”
“You don’t know.”
Her hand curled around the back of his neck. “Yes, I do.” She pulled him down, eliminating that last inch. Her mouth was open and waiting for him.
So he took it. Greedily. Possessively. Completely. His tongue thrust past her lips, and he tasted her. Feasted. Wanted to devour her.
There was no more hiding. He’d told her everything. She hadn’t slapped his face. Hadn’t rightly called him a lying bastard. Instead, she’d…
Kissed him.
Waskissing him.Why? Why?
Remy lifted his mouth from hers. “Why?”
“Why did you want me to be your muse?” Her breath came quickly. Her lips were red and plump.Want them again.
But what had she asked? He struggled to think past the lust and raging need that burned so hotly. “Because you inspired me.”
“To do what?”