“We’re even. I got my inheritance back and you got the proceeds of the heist and your freedom.”
“We’ll never be even. You could’ve told them how I planned the heist, how I took the stone, and they’d have connected the dots all the way to Nagasaki.”
“Don’t make me regret I didn’t.”
What could he make her do? His mouth went dry. He could think of a dozen dirty things, a hundred simple loving ones. He’d settle for being able to touch her without losing a hand. “What did you tell them?”
“The truth. I thought you’d stolen from me and I wanted revenge. I lured you to London to con you into buying a fake diamond I passed off as the Sweet Celestia. That you didn’t fall for it.”
“That’s it?” No wonder Rickard and Choi weren’t crowing. Once they realized her informatio
n was worthless for a conviction, they’d been reduced to hoping he’d feel threatened and confess.
She glared at him. “Would you rather I told them the great Shadow was dumb enough to steal my fake diamond?”
He laughed. It dislodged the cement in his chest. She’d told them enough of the truth for it to still be a lie and enough of a lie to set him free. He reached for her, but she stepped away.
“It was a very good fake. Anyone could’ve fallen for it,” he said. But this, the sizzle and spit between them was real.
“I always intended to share the money I got from Shoma with you.” She eyed him with suspicion. “I had this idea I’d be able to give you what your father couldn’t.”
She angled her head and dropped her chin, and he got his first clear view of her crossbones tattoo. It wasn’t a dumb joke anymore. She’d had it embellished with flowers and butterflies. It was a garden of color and beauty, bones and rebirth, life and death, she could hide or reveal by choice.
Up came her chin. “If you’re about to tell me you love me, duck.”
Chapter Eleven
Cleve didn’t duck. He said the words Aria warned him not to say, “I love you,” and then he stood there like a stone monument to men too smart to know better, so she swung at him and connected with his jaw.
That got a reaction. “Christ, Aria.” He took a step back, shaking his head.
Did the man never learn? She shook her hand, it’d gone numb; he had a freaking hard jaw. What had her father seen in him? He couldn’t be a goddamn hero, he couldn’t show up here when it wasn’t safe declaring his love and not expect consequences.
There were always consequences. You could fail to be the kind of daughter who deserved love. You could choke on a chicken bone when you least expected it. You could plan an elaborate heist and hope the man you loved admired you for it. You could leave someone’s bed when they trusted you with all their heart to stay.
She cocked her fist again. And ended with her arm wrenched behind her back and Cleve all over her.
“You hit like you mean it.” His voice was hot in her ear. “That fucking stung.” His body a wall at her back. He didn’t look any the worse for his stint in the big house and damn sight better than he’d looked when the Feds had staged that encounter. They’d been pissed with her, because she’d given them nothing and they’d seen through to her affection for Cleve, so they’d paraded him in front of her, telling her it would be the last time she’d see him before he needed dementia meds and a walker.
Cleve was pissed now, but so was she. He had her tight, he could break her arm. “I mean it,” she said.
“Man tells you he loves you and you want to break his jaw for his trouble.”
“I got you out of trouble, what more do you want from me?”
His lips against her head. He rubbed them back and forth, nibbling the flowers on her tattoo. “Everything you’ve got.”
She tried to take advantage of his loss of focus to break out of his hold, but he laughed. “Say uncle.”
“Never.”
He laughed. “That’s my girl.” His other hand went to her belly, on the skin not covered by shirt or pants. His palm was hot and he pressed her back into his body while his lips hit her neck and made her shiver.
She dropped her head to his shoulder. “You’re hurting me.”
“You like it.”
Bastard was right. She squirmed against the pain of his grip and the pleasure of his lips, and the need to get away, to be closer at the same time. “This is what I get for risking myself to save you.”