Page 28 of Steal My Heart
She purrs like a V8 engine, rubbing her head against my ankle, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Just like your human, but I know your game.” I feed her another treat.
My fingers go to give her head a little scratch, but she darts away. “I see how it is.”
Exiting the kitchen, I take the stairs two at a time. Unlocking my bedroom, I remove the artwork over my bed, revealing the safe. My hand hovers over the biometric sensor, and the safe opens. Counting out Nic’s money, I close the safe and return the painting to its position.
Downstairs, the soft sound of jazz has me making a detour. Pausing at the threshold of the music room, I resist the urge to grab my gun.
“You’re really good.” My cousin is seated far too close to Remi on the piano bench.
“Thanks,” she tells him.
“How’d you learn to play?”
I don’t announce my presence, because I’m interested in Remi’s answer.
“My mawmaw was a piano teacher. As soon as I could sit upright on a piano bench, she was trying to teach me, but I hated learning the rules,” she says, a smile in her voice. “I don’t know how to read music, but if I can hear a song, I can play it.”
It makes sense. Remi’s style of play isn’t as polished and precise as a classically trained pianist. It’s more raw. More passionate. More heartfelt.
Joie de vivreoozes from her play. Or perhaps from the woman herself.
“You do this for a living?” Nic asks.
She shakes her head. “That was the dream, but…”
“But what?”
“Life got in the way, as cliché as it sounds. Maybe I’ll own a jazz club one of these days. Have a captive audience.” Remi’s playful giggle flitters through the room, hitting me square in the chest.
My jaw tics.
“Bella, you wouldn’t need a captive audience. Men would line the street…” Nic trails off when I cross the room lightning-fast, positioning the barrel of my gun against his temple.
“Nic, I see you’ve metmyhouseguest.”
My cousin gulps.
“Get to the study.” I holster my gun, and he scurries out of the room.
I take his vacated seat, with Remi eyeing me with a mixture of fear and curiosity. “Using that heavy-handed approach again, Mr. Calvani.”
“You enjoyed my heavy-handed approach last night.”
Remi’s cheeks flush as she ducks her head. My index finger moves under her chin, tilting her gaze back to mine.
“Was the body floating in your pool a former ‘houseguest?’” she whispers.
“It was negligence on my part, not realizing you were outside,” I tell her, dropping my finger. “I’m sorry.” This coming from a man whoneverapologizes.
Her forehead scrunches. “You’re sorry, not that there was a dead body, but that I saw it?”
“Yes.” I make no fucking apologies for killing Al’s bodyguard. To my disappointment, Remi’s hands remain firmly clasped in her lap. “You’re afraid of me.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Her words drip with sarcasm.
“Because you haven’t tried to rob me.” I pat myself down, making sure that’s a true statement. It is, which means someone else was her mark. “What did you steal from my cousin?”
Reaching into her pocket, she holds up Nic’s gold chain with a sheepish look.
