6. Chapter Five Laurent
Chapter Five: Laurent
The sun shines through the window, landing on my face, and I crack an eye open.
Too bright. Turning my head, the events of last night come crashing back, and I sit up fast. Probably too fast. My head swims for a moment before a dull ache and the pull of the bandage on my side reminds me I was stabbed.
But I don’t focus on that. No, I’m remembering the gorgeous woman who is hopefully still here.
A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand tells me it’s still early. Only a little past seven. Hopefully Savannah is not a morning person. Or at least she isn’t today.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I slide off the mattress, walk straight out the bedroom door and spot Savannah sleeping soundly on the couch. Something akin to relief passes through me as I wander closer to study her.
I’m not intending to be creepy, but I can’t drag my eyes away.
She’s lying on her side, hands tucked beneath her chin, and surrounded by a pile of pillows.
The chenille throw is pooled around her waist, emphasizing an hourglass figure I’d like to skim my hand down.
Her dark blonde hair is swept back from her face and long lashes fan her cheekbones.
So damn beautiful. There’s also something innocent about her which attracts me.
Like the thief I am, I wonder how I can steal her. How I can make this woman all mine.
Hmmm. Since I’m not a kidnapper, and have no intention of becoming one, maybe I can at least figure out a way to steal more time with her.
Because the truth is, I’m not yet ready to say goodbye.
I’ve always had a penchant for beautiful things.
And Savannah is the loveliest creature I’ve ever encountered.
I’ve always thought The Heart of Azure was the most beautiful thing in the world, but now I’m not so sure. I think Savannah may just outshine it.
The object of my attention sighs softly and rolls onto her back. Her smoky sage eyes flutter open and she startles when she sees me, jerking the blanket up to her chest.
Holding my hands up to soothe her, I know I should take a step back. But I do the opposite, drawn closer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The gears are turning in my head now. I’ve decided I want more time with her, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.
Even if it means exaggerating a tad. So what I’m about to say next might be more BS than truth, but better to be safe than sorry.
That’s how I’m going to justify this, anyway.
“I’m worried you might be in more danger than I originally thought—for helping me.”
“What?” Her pretty eyes widen, looking more gray than green, and they remind me so much of the stormy summer skies back in the French countryside I used to roam when my mom was still alive. Gray and tumultuous, but beautiful. Days I miss, but days that are long gone. “Why? Who is after you?”
That’s a complicated question to answer. At the same time, I have nothing to hide. “You know what Addison Mills and her friends really do, right? Or…did?”
Tucking the blanket beneath her arms, her brow pinches. “My sister Harper told me they used to be involved in some, er, shady things. But not anymore.”
“They were a ring of thieves,” I clarify. “They pulled heists and stole valuable items.” I lock eyes with her, pulling no punches. “Addie’s crew has gone legit, but I have not.”
“You’re a thief?” she practically whispers.
“Everyone is a thief,” I say easily. “Some people steal time, others steal your piece of mind. Ever cut in line? Take a hotel amenity or a pen from somewhere? Or try to beat someone to a parking spot and steal it first?”
“That’s different.”
“Everyone is a thief,” I repeat, the corner of my mouth lifting in a smirk. “Just to different degrees.”
“So, last night…” Her nose scrunches, and I zero in on the smattering of freckles across the bridge that trails down over the top edge of her cheekbones. There’s nothing I’d like more than to kiss each one. “Did you steal from the man who stabbed you?”
“No, quite the opposite. He stole from me.”
“What did he take?”
“Something I’ve wanted for a very long time. A book. And I’m going to get it back.”
She doesn’t need to know why I want this particular copy so badly, or how it will lead me to the real prize.
“I don’t understand. How can you say he stole from you when it sounds like this book isn’t even yours to begin with.”
“Tomato, tomahto.”
“Let me get this straight…”
She stands up, still holding the blanket around her, and my eyes dip to her bare feet and pink-painted toenails. So small and cute. After kissing all her freckles, I’m going to kiss each little toe. Suck them into my mouth one at a time and—
“Laurent!”
Lost in my fantasy, my head snaps up and I arch a brow. “Yes, chérie?”
“You’re planning to track down whoever stabbed you and steal something from them? And you’re telling me it’s safer to stay here with you? How stupid do I look?”
Huh. Well, I was not expecting that response. Maybe I didn’t think this through enough.
Those storm clouds in her eyes turn even darker, and I think I’m about to see lightning strike within their depths.
“In my book, there’s no tomato or tomahto about it.
I don’t condone stealing. A pen is one thing.
A very valuable item belonging to another person is totally different.
Call me old-fashioned, but I’m a girl who works her ass off to make money. I don’t take it from other people.”
I’m sensing some judgment on her part, so I better clear this up fast. “Chérie—”
“My name is Savannah,” she interrupts, dropping the blanket onto the couch, “and I do apologize if I’m not correct here, but you just said you’re a thief, right?”
“Forever a thief,” I admit, refusing to hide who and what I am. What I’ve always been in order to avoid meeting the same demise my mother did.
“Then I’m not safe here with you. There are bad people after you, and the last thing I want is to get caught up in something illegal. I’m glad I was able to help you last night, but I should go. I’m sorry.”
Before she can disappear from my life, I grab her hand. “I never claimed to be anyone but who I am. And I’m sorry to disappoint you. Unlike your sister’s husband, I’m no hero, chér—I mean, Savannah.” I press a kiss to her knuckles.
“I have to go,” she whispers, pulling her hand away.
Very reluctantly, I take a step back, knowing she’s right.
One million percent right. I’m nothing but a lowly thief, and there’s no place in her upstanding life for me.
The truth is, I regret nothing I’ve done up to this point.
And I may be a lot of things, but like I said, I’m no hero.
If she wants a good man, she should look elsewhere.
“Au revoir,” I say in a low voice.
“Goodbye, Laurent.” She turns, seems to hesitate for a moment, then walks out the door. Walks out of my life.
Even though I know it’s for the best, I squeeze my eyes shut. The strangest feeling washes over me, and I wish things could be different. Savannah is the first woman to truly captivate me. But it’s just not meant to be. She’s too good. And I’m too bad.
Moving over to the window, I watch the breeze lift her blonde hair as she gets into her car.
I want her to change her mind and come back to me, but she doesn’t.
Soon all I see are taillights, and then she’s gone.
Letting out a long-suffering sigh, I rake a hand through my mussed hair and decide a café will make me feel better.
Three Nespressos later, I still feel like shit, and now I’m shaky from the caffeine.
Sitting on the patio overlooking the ocean, I wonder what my next step is to get the Lewis Carroll book back.
I need to figure out who bested me last night and, even more importantly, who he works for. Time to make some calls.
Due to my morally gray occupation, I’ve learned to perfect the art of lying. Is it a skill I’m proud of? Being able to charm and manipulate people by twisting my words around until they believe me and are willing to do my bidding?
Hell, yes, it is.
Grabbing my phone, I make a mental list and begin to narrow down the playing field.
A handful of collectors who might want the book itself come to mind.
Then there are a couple of dangerous billionaire players who might be aware of the clues hidden within this particular book’s pages.
Because that is the real prize. The one that will lead me to the sapphire.
The Heart of Azure has been on my radar since I was that pathetic twelve-year-old kid who got yelled at for putting his grubby hands on the glass.
“You don’t belong here… nothing but trash.”
That goddamn phrase has echoed in my head for the last twenty-five years.
It has taunted my waking and sleeping hours.
Growing up poor and without a father always made me feel less-than.
After losing my mom, everything spiraled and I fled my small village and headed for Paris.
There were others like me there—homeless street rats trying to survive—and I met the greatest kid in the world.
My best friend who taught me so much. Remy.
I owed everything to him for taking me under his wing and teaching me how to survive. He had my back, but I didn’t have his.
My chest tightens.
Because I’m no hero. No, the truth is I’m a goddamn coward.
Giving my head a hard shake, hating that I let the past creep up on me, I start making phone calls. Burying thoughts of what happened in Paris so long ago, I turn on my usual laidback charm and start the search for who has my book.
Five inquiries later, I’ve narrowed it down to the most dangerous player of all—Adam Voss.
He’s a billionaire antiquities collector based in Denver who’s notorious for hiring rival thieves to go after the same object.
Bad form if you ask me. When he wants to acquire a prize, he doesn’t leave anything up to chance.
He also has a mini army of mercenaries at his beck and call, because he’s also ruthless in his pursuits.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I should’ve realized earlier this has Voss written all over it.
Fucking lovely. My mood just went from sour to downright bitter.
Not too long ago, I became aware Voss wanted to get his hands on the Phantom Orchid, a lost purple diamond.
I offered my services, unaware he’d also sent a couple of my competitors, Ryder McKay and Bella Diamond.
I didn’t need the pay day, but figured bragging rights would’ve been fun since the stone is legendary.
We had an unfortunate run-in, they made off with the gem and, out of nowhere, a couple of thieves suddenly turned into the Denver Art Museum’s biggest benefactors.
Why McKay and Diamond donated the exquisite purple diamond is a mystery to me, but Voss was not happy. Ah, well. C'est la vie.
At one glorious point, I had the gem in my hand, scaling a castle wall, my getaway in sight.
But then Bella went straight circus acrobat on me, climbed up my rope faster than a damn spider monkey, and launched herself right at me.
She managed to grab my messenger bag, which held the diamond.
The strap broke and she fell—along with the prize.
I tried to make a grab for her, but it all happened so fast. Luckily, Ryder was directly below us and played hero, catching her, and the Phantom Orchid, in his arms.
Last I heard they were madly in love. I roll my eyes and scoff at that reminder. I’m glad everything works out so well for everybody else.
Whatever. A woman is the last thing I need.
Suppressing thoughts of Savannah, I picture The Heart of Azure instead. It’s just as beautiful—or so I try to tell myself—and it’s worth a fortune. Most important of all, it’s going to be mine. Because no matter what anyone else thinks, I deserve it.
I’m not that wimpy little bastard of a boy too scared to step up when it mattered the most.
I’m fucking Laurent. My name and reputation precede me.
Once my little internal pep talk is done, I decide to change, freshen up and check out.
It’s time to fly to Denver and figure out how I’m going to break into Adam Voss’s tightly-secured mansion and retrieve the book.
It won’t be easy, but I’ve learned nothing is impossible.
Especially when you’re as crafty and sneaky as I am.
Exactly thirty minutes later, I’m ready to leave, but my Italian loafers refuse to budge.
I have no idea why, but I have the strangest feeling something bad is going to happen.
For a moment, it’s hard to breathe and my chest locks up.
I swear I smell smoke, but I know that can’t be true.
The hotel’s alarms would be triggered at the slightest threat.
The longer I stand here, suitcase at my feet, the stronger the premonition. Someone is in danger. But I don’t know anyone here in Coronado. No one except Savannah.
Putain de merde.
I hold an internal debate for exactly three seconds before hurrying out.
Instead of calling my personal concierge to drive me over, I decide to keep this little trip under the radar and not draw any attention.
It’s probably just me overreacting, anyway, so I grab an Uber to take me to Charlie’s Place.
I can’t explain the apprehension washing over me, but I need to make sure Savannah is okay. What if our friend from last night decides to go back and visit her? Highly unlikely, but possible.
I’m sure she’s fine. Even so, once I make sure—once I see her with my own eyes—then I’ll head straight to the airport.
Practically pressing my nose to the window, I wonder why we aren’t moving faster. Huffing out an annoyed breath, I sit back and cross my arms. “If you can get us there in two minutes, I’ll add a hundred to your tip,” I bribe.
The guy hits the gas, but I don’t feel any relief. No, what I’m feeling is the same kind of awful dread I did right before my best friend died.
Before I let him die all those years ago.
It feels like for-fucking-ever, but when the Uber finally pulls up alongside the curb across the street from Charlie’s Place, I’m already opening the door and hopping out.
It’s early, so the restaurant is still closed, and I don’t know what terrible thing I’m expecting to find.
For all I know, Savannah is probably home. Safe and sound.
“Don’t leave,” I order, leaning back down to peer into the car. “I’ll be right back.”
Straightening up, I take two steps forward when a loud boom fills the air. Stunned, I see the boarded-up front door and windows of Charlie’s Place blow outward. Debris flies through the air, and the blast wave throws me back as a giant fireball consumes the restaurant in a huge explosion.