Caught for Christmas by Skye Warren Page A

to someone on the phone. Probably Blue. He’ll have to explain why I’m not in police custody—or worse.
    It doesn’t seem to matter anymore, what happens to me. Lock me up. Throw away the key. It’s not like I had some great future ahead of me. It’s not like I have anyone who’ll care when I’m gone.
    West enters the large open living space, tossing his phone onto a side table. His apartment is a huge loft in the part of Tanglewood undergoing a resurgence. Old buildings are being remodeled and rented out. This place has exposed brick and stainless steel. It wouldn’t have come cheap.
    If I had pictured him anywhere, it would have been in a simple, bare apartment one step up from my own. And I would have been wrong. The walls could use some artwork, but the place is fully furnished in the kind of restrained, comfortable style that speaks of money.
    My faded bag looks ridiculous leaning against the side of the plush, luxurious sofa.
    He looks down at my tea, his expression disapproving. “Drink.”
    I consider making a dirty joke about that or maybe just flat out refusing. Except what would be the point? He proved in that basement that he could master me if he chooses. And after what happened in that alley… Don’t think about that.
    After what happened in that alley, I don’t really have any fight left in me.
    I take a sip. The hot liquid burns its way down, but it doesn’t touch the chill inside me.
    West’s frown deepens. He sits across from me on the rustic wood coffee table. I barely feel the cup leave me fingers as he sets it aside.
    “Bianca. Talk to me.”
    I tilt my head. “About what?”
    He gives me a low laugh, almost like he’s laughing at himself. “About what happened in that alley. About what I did to you in that basement. Hell, you can talk to me about the weather if you want to. I just need to hear your voice. I need to know you’re okay.”
    “I’m not okay.”
    He swears under his breath. “Shit. After what your parents did, of course you’re not.”
    “How do you know she’s my parent?”
    He gives me a self-deprecating look. “I’m not blind. As much as I’ve tried to be since I started working at the Grand. It’s hard to miss the resemblance.”
    “Yeah.” My voice sounds hollow. “I’ve always looked like her.”
    I’ve always been like her, using my body and my smile to get what doesn’t belong to me. I tried to change. I tried to go straight, but look where that got me.
    He swears again. “I should have had her arrested.”
    I feel strangely numb, as if I’m only watching things happen. “Why didn’t you?”
    “It would have been complicated to explain your involvement. And we would have had to go down to the police station tonight.”
    I pull the afghan tighter around my shoulders, grateful I’m at his loft instead of a cold police station. “What are you going to do with me?”
    “Right now? I’m going to put you to bed. You’re falling asleep just sitting there.”
    “You were never going to turn me in, were you?” I say suddenly, already knowing it’s true.
    He shakes his head slowly. “We got word that someone was offering cash for the security code. Blue had the idea to give it to them, to set the ambush and catch them in the act.”
    And then I really would have been in a jail cell tonight. “You didn’t let him. Why?”
    Because he wanted to fuck me? He didn’t even do that. Because he wanted to taste me? There were easier ways to accomplish that.
    Hope beats in my breast that maybe it’s something more. Maybe it’s because he cares about me. I’ve spent my whole life stealing or being stolen from, being a thief or being a mark. I could never trust him. Never trust anyone.
    “You need rest,” he says gently. “We can talk in the morning.”
    And just like that the hope quiets.
    Even if he did care about me before, how could he now? And even if he did still care, how could he ever trust me? I’ve ruined the only good thing I ever had,