Prologue
Stealing was like heroin. It lit the night on fire.
The fact that he was stealing from Haseya Colton…that made it even hotter.
The cuff sat on her gallery desk, the sterling silver shining in a beam of moonlight from the transom windows. Ten turquoise stones were encased along its slender length, coupled with detailed stamping.
The piece felt warm to his touch, as if Haseya had just taken it off. It was small. Someone on the nearby reservation had customized it to fit the delicate circle of her wrist.
The craftsmanship was stunning, much like its owner. It was a one-of-a-kind piece, the type that went for hundreds of dollars. People paid in excess just to say they’d bought their window dressing from an authentic Navajo artist.
However, it wasn’t the monetary value of the piece that called to him. It was the thrill of the break-in, an illicit frisson along his spine. It was knowing that Haseya had worn it—that she would miss it.
It was a tacit connection to her. He could no more resist pocketing the cuff than he could stop himself from smelling the air, gathering one last sip of the scent she carried on her skin. “Good night, Haseya,” he murmured before slipping out of that pool of moonlight and merging into the shadows.