Page 23 of Prettiest Little Thief (Band of Thieves #1)

“You don’t have an answer, Lucas. Surprise, surprise.” Gianna tapped her painted fingernail on my desk, and a smug smirk grew on her face. She was really pissing me off, and if she wasn’t my cousin, I would kick her ass out of my house.

“I know plenty about Monroe. I just don’t owe you shit.

I don’t need to explain myself to you or my reasoning for anything.

” I leaned forward, threading my fingers together on top of my desk.

“She will be my wife with or without your blessing. And if you think you will come to our home and make her feel anything less than a member of our family, I will be sure to have a word with Uncle Ted.”

Gianna’s face fell and turned a couple of shades whiter. She took a step back and straightened. “You don’t know anything about me that you can use against me.”

“I do though.” A sneer spread across my face.

“You’re a liar.” Gianna flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have nothing to hide.”

“I know about the video. The one where you let a few guys at your dad’s club…”

“Shut up!” Gianna yelled. “I was drunk… my dad… you can’t…” Her breaths came heavily, and her cheeks turned scarlet .

“You’ll go back to your dad and everyone else in our family and tell them you met Monroe. That she’s a fucking peach. Do you understand?”

Tears swam in Gianna’s eyes, and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth but nodded anyway. “If I do that, you won’t tell anyone about the video?”

“You have my word. As your cousin.”

One of her eyes twitched and her lips pursed. “You’re an asshole, Lucas.” She stormed out of the office, grabbing her expensive Chanel bag from a chair as she went.

“Bye, Gianna,” I called after her.

The truth was, I knew about the video from mutual friends. I was sure if I dug deep enough, I could have someone bring it to the surface for my uncle to find. That would get her disowned and disinherited. Gianna knew I wasn’t someone to mess with. She had seen what I was capable of.

Fox waltzed into my office, his usual smirk in place. He took a seat at one of the chairs in front of my desk but said nothing, humor dancing in his brown eyes.

“What?” I snapped.

Fox picked an invisible piece of lint from his shirt. “Do you know where Roe is?”

My brow arched. “In her room, where she should be resting.”

He rolled his lips and shook his head. “I’m assuming your Corvette wasn’t sold, right?”

My stomach dropped, and I stood abruptly, my chair flying back and hitting the window behind me. “No. She stole it?”

Fox chuckled. “Yeah, bro, she took it. But I get the feeling she’ll bring it back.”

“Fuck!” I picked up my phone and checked her location, expecting her to be far away by now. My heart settled when the screen showed she was only a few miles away. At an… ice skating rink?

“She isn’t far?” Fox asked, seeming to notice the ease that smoothed out my expression.

“No. She’s not far at all.” I grabbed my keys and sprinted toward the door.

“Roe’s got you so fucked up, dude.” Fox was having a great fucking time giving me shit about how my feelings had changed for Monroe.

He was right. The little thief— my little thief —had softened my stone of a heart.

***

Monroe

My skates glided smoothly across the ice as I lazily moved my body. No rush or urgency. Calm. That’s what I needed. Just the sound of my skates scraping across the frozen surface.

The constant static in my head was muted as I inhaled the frigid air.

My usual spot to practice was a little bit of a drive, so I opted for a nearby indoor rink to blow off some steam.

Emotions rolled off of me and dropped away, skittering across the chilled rink the moment I stepped foot onto the glassy ice.

Music started to play from the speakers, and l became lost in the song.

I spun, jumped, and dipped, the motion of my body operating by muscle memory.

Hardly a thought to propel myself along the glacial surface as my breaths panted out of me.

Each maneuver melted into the next just like it had when I was in competitions.

My thoughts went to the dramatic leotards and sparkling makeup. The vision of my mom on one of the bleachers, beaming at me from afar .

As the song ended, I stopped. My breaths heavy as my eyes landed on Lucas’s tall figure standing on the other side of the short wall, watching me. That didn’t take long.

I propelled myself across the rink to where he stood, the distance between us closing. His hands were tucked into his black leather jacket, blue eyes alight. I thought he would be pissed off about his Corvette, but he didn’t seem the slightest bit peeved.

Huh.

As my gaze washed over him, my stomach dipped as if I was dropping from the highest point of a rollercoaster.

Even from the short distance between us, I could feel the intensity of his stare burrowing into my soul.

Pinpricks of awareness covered my skin, and my breath condensed in a cloud before me.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stood there and watched me.

This was likely his way of checking in on me but still allowing me to have some sort of space between us. Not that it was much. And that pull, the one I got every time he was near, tugged at my chest, begging me to go to him.

God, I was pathetic.

I had been alone for so long, and Lucas Knight turned me into a big mushy mess of need after two weeks of constant companionship.

Who was I? Surely not the Monroe Whitlock my mother had raised.

Because she had taught me to be self-sufficient and never to depend on a man.

Financially or emotionally. And here I was, breaking both of those rules she had built into me so firmly.

Inhaling deeply, I skated, moved closer, and stopped, just at the edge.

“What are you doing here?” I asked .

Lucas’s expression gave nothing away. “Being that my car and my soon-to-be wife were missing this morning, I wanted to make sure you hadn’t left me already.”

I shook my head and bit my bottom lip. “I wouldn’t back out of our deal. If there was an actual deal, since I haven’t decided whether to take your offer or not.”

“Deal or not, I wanted to make sure you were all right.” My heart fluttered, and I tried my hardest to push down the lump in my throat.

“You don’t have to pretend. This is all a fake. I overheard you and that pretty woman in your office.” I sniffed as I pushed down the jealousy that reared its head inside me.

I was just about to push off and do another lap around the rink but was stopped by Lucas’s deep timber. “Gianna is my cousin.”

“What?” The green-eyed monster within me started to dissipate.

“Gianna can be a crazy bitch.” His full lips tugged up at the corners.

“You couldn’t even give her a response to what you know about me. Then it hit me that if you are going to marry someone—share a life with someone—you should at least know the basics about them. Their favorite color, birthday, favorite dessert.”

From over the wall, Lucas gripped my hand and pulled me toward him.

I gazed up into his eyes. “Your favorite color is red. November sixth is your birthday.” He looked up as if in thought before his azure eyes landed on me again, then continued.

“And angel food cake is your favorite dessert. With extra strawberries.”

My mouth popped open in surprise. “How did you know that? ”

He chuckled and placed a finger beneath my chin. “Because I happen to pay attention to the woman I have feelings for.”

My throat dried as Lucas’s mouth inched closer to mine. My head tilted back, and I stared up at him through lowered lashes.

“Then why didn’t you tell Gianna that?” My voice was breathy, as I had a hard time putting together words. The nearness of him pulsed through me. His thumb caressed my bottom lip.

“I’m a private man, Monroe. Even where my family is involved. The less information I give them, the better.”

“Oh.” It was all I could say.

“I’m going to kiss the shit out of you now.

” It was his only warning. Lucas’s mouth collided with mine.

Gentle but firm. I looped my arms around his neck as his fingers threaded into my hair, and he pulled softly.

Goosebumps rolled outward from the slight sting, and my nipples pebbled beneath my sweater, pulling a soft moan from me.

Lucas’s gentleness swiftly turned into primal need. He nipped at my lips and then swept his tongue into my mouth. The growl that came from him made my legs shake as I stood on the ice, with him on solid ground.

In the midst of our make out session, the rumble of the Zamboni behind me broke me out of the trance of Lucas Knight. It also broke our kiss.

A loud whistle from the driver of the machine echoed into the space, and I laughed, my cheeks heated with embarrassment. Lucas was just as amused, and he laughed along with me.

With our foreheads together, he grumbled, “You taste so fucking good.”

“This isn’t some kind of joke like last time, is it?”

Please, God, don’t let him mess with me again .

“No. No joke. I promise.” He stood to his full height and released me. A coldness was left behind where his hands had been. “Do you have an answer for me yet?”

I rolled my lips. “I just have a few requests.”

“Go on.”

“I want to know why Anastasia’s Keepsake is so important to you.”

A pained look crossed his normally stoic resolve.

Newcomers to the ice rink started to come in and lace up, distracting me from our conversation. “You can tell me later. Maybe when we get back home?” I placed a hand over his.

A slight nod from Lucas.

“But in the meantime, get some skates on, you’re coming skating with me.”

His brows raised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea, and one of my requests. Come on.”