Taking the Thief

My eyes roll automatically, forgetting that it’s only going to send a sharp pain to my temples. I’m not above being a smart ass, so I toss out, “I’m not contagious.”

He leans over the cold table, staring at me fiercely, muttering in Spanish I presume, “Por supuesto, of course, of course. Let me get you somewhere you can rest.”

I twist my head to the side, wondering if he thinks I’m stupid. “What? I’m not following. Why would you help me? Are you afraid I’ll die in my little cell here?”

A low rumble comes from his chest before he utters, “Don’t be difficult, Natasha.” His voice is soothing.

“Wow,” I murmured aloud, catching his attention to my mouth. Damn, I better keep my thoughts clean. They’re liable to escape around this guy. The way he said my name traveled straight to my soul. I have no words. It soothes the pain just enough to feel normal again.

“Come,” he orders, stepping around to my side of the table, and taking me by the hand. I grab my bag before I forget it here. He pulls it from me and throws it over his shoulder. We move to a bank of elevators, then I find myself lifted into his arms, cradled and strangely feeling protected.

“You don’t need to carry me. I’m sure that I don’t have the strength to run away.”

“No, you don’t, but I don’t want you passing out in front of my guests.” I roll my eyes, then close them because he’s pissing me off. Yeah, I think him carrying me grabbed more attention than the possibility of me fainting.

“You’re making a scene already.”

“No, most don’t know I’m the owner. They think I’m carrying my woman back in from a honeymoon outing. It happens a lot around here.” God, I’m doing my best to not react, but calling me, his woman hit me straight in the chest. This isn’t good. Whoever brought me here had nefarious motives. Was it this guy, pretending that it was supposed to be about his sister? Or was it Viktor? Whoever altered our passports had to be close enough to do that? The elevators close on that thought.

“Tell me how old you are,” he demands.

“I’m nineteen,” I mutter, resting my head on his chest. Goodness, why do I feel so right in his arms?

“Ay Dios, you’re a baby.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, old man. I am young, though.”

“Me voy al infierno.”

“What?”

“Nada, nothing. Talking to myself.”

“Just don’t answer yourself. That’s bad,” I giggle out. He cracks a smile then stiffens up when the doors open.

“Come,” he repeats.

“Um, you are carrying me. I’m going where you go unless you want to put me down.”

“No, not going to happen.”

“I’m not going to run away yet. I’m too weak for that at the moment.”

He mutters something under his breath, then sets me on my feet and slides his key card into the room. We enter a large foyer. I wonder if this is the suite he had for his sister. I don’t even care. He walks over to the left and down the hall to a large bedroom. The sun is coming hard into the room, sending blinding pain to my head. I scrunch my eyes closed, hoping it’ll help which it does. He sets me on the bed, then says with a cocked brow, “Rest.” He moves to the large sliding balcony doors and pulls the drapes closed. “Better?” he asks, leaning near the bed and squeezing my hand.

I nodded unable to calm my racing heart from the way he looks at me with utter warmth. “Horita vengo. I’ve got to talk to your brother again. I’m going to send up the island doctor. Excuse me.” He gives my hand one more squeeze before walking away.

I press my head back against the pillows. These are nice and cool to the touch. Turning to my side, I look around the room. It’s inviting but more masculine. The bed is perfect with white sheets and a super fluffy comforter. A large picture of a Mayan pyramid is on the wall, and I stare at its beauty. Within a few minutes, I fall asleep.

Chapter 4

Julian

I rush out to find a doctor. It’s fucking silly of me to be worrying over the thief, but the second I stepped into the little room, I knew she was the one. The one, my father, told me would steal my heart and soul. I hate knowing that she’s struggling to exist with her head pounding. I rarely ever have a headache, but it does suck when it hits. The way she looked so fragile and small in my bed, broke the ice around my heart. I have to get her back to good health. I call down to the reception desk which has all the information on hand. “Carmen, Llame al médico a mi apartamento.”