B. G. McCarthy - A Thief At Heart Read online

  Her sharp retort didn’t put him off at all. “The kid was talking a bit loud. I heard a bit,” he said with a small smile. “Do you really have some kind of birthmark on your lower back?”

  Riley stiffened her shoulders to suppress a shiver. “I think that maybe you should mind your own business--”

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t tease you. I really suck at flirting tonight. I was talking to a girl for a while but she’s disappeared on me,” he said with a rueful smile. “Maybe she’s run home to mother. I think I’m losing my edge.” He grinned down at her once again and her heart turned over. “My name’s Robert Murphy. My close friends call me Rob.”

  Her heart froze.

  Robert was one of the most common names on the planet. But still the coincidence was disconcerting. This man was everything she’d imagined a grown up Robbie could be. Everything but the celestial blue eyes she could still see shimmering in her mind’s eye.

  Robbie hadn’t been this tall. At sixteen they’d met eye to eye because she was tall for a girl. That hadn’t bothered him a bit, but he’d promised to grow six inches by daybreak so she wouldn’t have to take off her sexy high heels when they kissed.

  God, she’d been so naive.

  Robbie had to be in jail somewhere. Or even dead. Not that she would wish either on anyone.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, reaching out to take her arm, steady her. His fingertips pressed warmly into her bare flesh. She looked down at his long fingers. No rings. A few fine scars, though. His were very manly hands.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Really. I have to get back to my employer.”

  “Have you seen Belinda Connors? I take it she’s the jerk’s sister? She was the woman I was looking for. She got a call on her cell, went to take it privately, then...”

  Riley shook her head, her heart sinking to the very bottom of her stomach for some ridiculous I-should-be-kicked-hard-in-the-butt-for-even-caring reason. “No. I haven’t seen her. Perhaps she’s already returned to the ballroom.”

  “Could be. Are you going back now?”

  “Um... I have to find Mrs. Connors.”

  “Afraid of running into the clown again?”

  “Why would you care about that, Mr. Murphy?” she asked frankly. His concern flustered her. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Some women wouldn’t handle that sort of situation too comfortably. He took a great big liberty and you seem a bit shook up--”

  “I’m fine. I handled it myself. Quite well.”

  “So I saw. Poor guy.”

  Riley sighed deeply.

  “Does he do that to you a lot? Make sexual advances?”

  “Mr. Murphy--” she gritted, “--like I said before: I don’t even know you. This is--”

  “--none of my business?” he finished.

  “Exactly.”

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Mary Connors is supposed to be a nice lady. Maybe she’d like to know what her grandson is up to.”

  “This honestly hasn’t happened before.”

  “Really? Not even close?”

  He’d poked at a sore spot. He didn’t have to point out to her that she was a damned fool for keeping this sort of thing to herself. “Listen, I usually manage to avoid him. What’s your interest in Belinda?” she asked.

  “Turning the tables on me?”

  “Yes,” Riley said tartly. “I am.”

  “I met her briefly at another party a few days ago. She’s a pretty girl and I liked what I saw. I don’t think you were there or I doubt I’d have noticed anyone else.”

  She almost snorted. Men were such idiots, so predicable, even the smooth ones. Especially the smooth ones. He and the flirtatious Craig ought to meet and trade come-ons. Someone from the hotel staff opened one of the back doors and a draft of cold air wafted down the corridor making her shiver.

  “Are you interested in seeing Belinda socially?” she asked, truly curious.

  At the question his perfectly carved lips twisted slightly. Maybe he was scoffing at her presumptuousness. Maybe he was having a laugh at the formal way she’d put it. Would he have preferred if she’d asked him if he wanted into Belinda’s pants?

  She swallowed hard as the tip of his tongue swept lightly against his perfectly bowed top lip. His dark eyes were cool, almost distant. “Interested in Belinda socially? In all honesty, I may be. She seems quite a catch and I’m looking.”

  He’d handled that admirably, she thought. “She’s very young,” Riley said. “She may not want to settle down just yet. I don’t really think you’re her type, anyway.”

  That made him laugh out loud. He had a wonderful laugh: deep and husky. “I’m not her type?”

  “No. You’re a bit young for her tastes, actually.”

  “I have at least ten years on her.”

  “I hear she likes significantly older men. And her last few boyfriends were medium height because she’s so petite. But who am I to comment? I’m just the hired help.”

  That made him smile.

  “I really do have to be going now. So, if you’ll excuse me...” She started to turn away but something stopped her. “Mr. Murphy... by the way... thanks for noticing that I needed help. It was very kind of you.” With that she turned, made it to the stairs and headed up on still shaky legs, hoping like hell that the steps led in the direction she needed to go. She planned to hide behind Mary’s wheelchair the rest of the night.

  ~ * ~

  Rob watched her walk away, back straight, head held high on her wide, shapely shoulders. He watched her hips sway, the firm flesh of her lovely rear-end, legs long and sinuous under the smooth black fabric of her gown. If he wasn’t careful he was going to make like a fifteen year-old and sprout a world class woody.

  Robbie was inclined to believe that interest had sparked somewhere behind those wide, intelligent green eyes. Not that he was going to do anything about that.

  She hadn’t recognized him. He was certain of that. He ought to feel relieved. So why was he disappointed? Was she was supposed to know him by his scent alone? Like animals who mated for life.

  Rob turned and hastened down the corridor. He was slightly breathless a few minutes later--certainly not from the minor exertion--but didn’t see her in the ballroom. No surprise, in fact, because he knew the staircase she had taken had led outside. If she wasn’t careful and stepped out for air, as he suspected she might, the door would lock behind her.

  Robbie didn’t see Belinda in the crowded room either, but he did see the old lady--her grandmother. Mary Connors was sitting alone watching a news anchor auctioning a collection of celebrity donated watches. She’d been surrounded by solicitous hangers-on all evening. She appeared to have dropped something and was trying to reach for it with the rubber tip of her cane. Time to turn on the charm, he decided, heading quickly in her direction.

  He reached her quickly. Rob grabbed the fallen program and placed it in the old lady’s withered hand. He gave her his best, most endearing smile. “Is everything all right, ma’am? Would you like me get you anything?”

  “I just dropped the damned program,” she snarled. “I’m not about to fall out of my chair, boy, even though I am half starved. Never did like these midnight suppers. It gives me heartburn and nightmares to eat late.”

  “Maybe I could get you something to drink?”

  Her sharp blue eyes softened. “I could do with a drink, though I’m not actually supposed to have anything... under doctor’s orders. Everything I bloody do is under doctor’s orders these days. Jane always turns a blind eye if I have one nip, though. Don’t know how she’d feel about my having two,” she said, peering up at him with eyes that were still keen. “Do I know you, young man?”

  He shook his head and gave her another grin. “No, I don’t think so. But I know who you are. My name’s Robert Murphy. You’re on the board of directors for Promise House aren’t you? You’re Mrs. Mary Connors?”

  Mary Connors nodded. “I certainly am. But why w
ould a hunk like you give a hang what a crippled old lady like me is up to? Or which charities I support.”

  Rob smiled. She was sharp, this one. “Well... I know you have a beautiful granddaughter and I’m new in town.”

  “Ah. You were the handsome one talking to Belinda at the Whitfield’s party last night. I was watching you together. Feeling my almost eighty years the whole time. She ran off on you? Where is that girl’s head?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  “I know she didn’t mention you, but then she doesn’t talk to me all that much. I’m just a demented old purse on wheels. What do I know besides how much allowance to give her?”

  “Plenty, I’m sure. And those wheels look pretty fetching to me.”

  She laughed loudly. “Well, you’re the cat’s meow, boy, even if you are full of Irish blarney. And Belinda must be nuts to ignore the likes of you. Maybe that silly girl’s been into the champagne again.”

  “Belinda seemed very cordial tonight, actually. She spotted some friends of hers and went to talk to them.”

  “I see. You’re not only handsome, but a diplomat...” Her eyes assessed him. Maybe she was on to him. “Well, my boy, you do know that in order to see my granddaughter socially you’d have to have the right connections. What families, exactly, do you know?” she asked.

  Was she serious? Whoa. These society types. He hoped he didn’t look like he’d been produced by mongrels fornicating behind the woodpile. “Helen Nablock pointed you out to me this evening.”

  “Well, I don’t know about Helen being a good connection. Don’t like her too much.”

  “Do you mind if I sit?” he asked.

  She indicated a chair. “Be my guest. You’re too bloody tall and it’s hurting my neck to stare up at you. Don’t tell me you’re related to Helen? You don’t have that slack-jawed inbred look they all have in the Nablock family.”

  Rob took the chair. “I’m acquainted with Helen’s nephew.”

  “Edmund?”

  “Yes. I know him as Fast Eddie. I attended the University of Toronto a few years after him.”

  “You’re from Toronto, then?”

  “Yes, most recently, though I was born on Prince Edward Island. My family has always summered there.” He signaled a waiter and requested a sherry for Mary. For himself he got a local micro-beer. Mary seemed to approve of that with a little nod of her head.

  “I loved Prince Edward Island. Such a charming place. And what do you do in Toronto, Robert?”

  “Rob, please. Insurance. My family’s business. We’re thinking of expanding the company westward and I’m here to do some preliminary scouting of commercial real estate.” At that moment Riley arrived, breathless, her cheeks flushed with cold and exertion, her impeccably dressed hair escaping its moorings. He’d yank the pins out altogether and let it fall where it may.

  He wanted to grin but bit it back. She had to have run all the way around the building. Her breasts heaved against the front of her gown and she seemed to be favoring one foot, as if she had gotten a blister or had stubbed her toe in the dark. Robbie felt a sudden staggering rush of longing at the sight of her. Rising, his knees almost buckled with the weight of his reaction.

  He felt more than a little perturbed by his adolescent response to her. The return of the waiter helped him regain his sanity.

  She stared icily at him, obviously irritated. “Mary, I’m sorry I’ve been so long. I took a wrong turn coming back from the ladies room and ended up outside in the back parking lot. Is there anything you need?”

  “No. Mr. Murphy ordered a sherry for me. Maybe you should drink it. You look flustered.”

  Jane shook her head. “Not at all. I’m just fine.”

  “You’re all goosebumps, girl. It’s still rigid nipple weather out there.”

  “Mary!”

  “I could give you my jacket, Jane,” Rob suggested.

  “Don’t be silly. I’m fine. Just fine.” Riley gave him a sharp look that he couldn’t quite read, rubbing one of her sleek, slender forearms with the palm of her hand. Rob longed to touch that smooth skin, to see if it was a soft as it looked, to pull her close against him and bury his face in her shiny fall of light taffy-colored hair.

  “You know each other, do you?” Mary asked.

  Rob nodded.

  “No. Not at all--” She flushed again. “We’ve just met. In passing, Mary,” Jane said. She flashed him a look that dared him to breathe a word of what had happened in the hallway.

  “Sit down here, Jane,” Mary demanded. Her companion complied reluctantly. Mary told Rob to sit as well. “Mr. Murphy is new in town. From Toronto.” She said that with obvious distaste. Laid-back Vancouverites and arrogant Torontonians didn’t mix, a well-known fact. “How long have you been here, Rob?”

  “Less than a month.”

  “Are you staying in a hotel?” Mary inquired.

  He named an expensive one on Georgia Street

  . “It’s not much like home, but I’m still looking for an apartment to buy. Maybe a loft in Yaletown. I’m looking for a good realtor.”

  “Jane knows a good one. What’s his name? Greg? Maybe she can introduce--”

  “Craig’s busy acting right now,” Riley said very quickly. “I’m sure he can find his own person. Vancouver is crawling with them.”

  “Call Craig anyway,” ordered Mary.

  It was hard to believe that this imperious little woman had given life to the rather insipid looking, high-living Blake, thought Robbie. In the family enterprise her only living son had walked in her shadow, done everything the way she deemed it should be.

  “So, your business will keep you here for a while, Robert?” Mary asked, blue eyes impish. “I’ll be in town indefinitely,” Rob said.

  “You haven’t left some nice young woman behind?”

  “Not that I know of,” he said, smiling. “I’m single and looking for a wife.” He caught Riley looking at him. Gaping. He’d thrown her for a loop by saying that he was looking for a bride. She quickly averted her jolting, pale green gaze. “Can I get the waiter back for something to warm you up, Jane?” he asked. “Maybe a hot toddy? Coffee?”

  “No, thank you,” Riley Jane answered primly. “I don’t need anything.”

  “I like you, Robert,” Mary said enthusiastically. “I know a good man when I see one. You’re very straight forward.”

  “I try to be.”

  “There’s a depth to you.”

  Riley rolled her eyes and covered her smirking mouth with an elegantly made, short-nailed hand.

  “Would you like to come to dinner tomorrow?” Mary asked out of the blue. “At the house? We have an excellent chef.” Riley’s lips parted but she snapped them shut. Mary caught the narrow-eyed look she gave Robbie and barked at her, “For God’s sake, Jane. Does this man look like a serial killer?”

  She took so long to answer that he almost laughed. “Not at all, but then neither did Ted Bundy. And Bill Clinton didn’t look like a philandering jerk-wad.”

  Rob guffawed. He couldn’t help it.

  Mary waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s my home. I do what I like. How does one get to know new people if one doesn’t have them over?” Mary said. “I get sick of how things are these days. Everyone too worried about getting taken by a con man or having their throats slashed to be friendly to a newcomer.” Mary turned back to Rob. “Will you come?”

  “It would be my pleasure, ma’am.”

  “I’ll make sure that Belinda is there. I’m sure the flibbertigibbet will stay put for one evening if someone as handsome as you will be coming. Especially if she knows that you’re actually marriage-minded.”

  “I’d like that very much, Mrs. Connors.”

  “Call me Mary, dear.”

  Riley rolled her eyes again at the endearment.

  “The night you want to have Mr. Murphy over is already taken. It’s Joy Mitchell’s sixtieth birthday party.” Riley flashed him a triumphant look. “It’s been on the calenda
r for months and you’ve already sent in your RSVP to say you’ll attend, Mary. I’ve even bought the gift.”

  “Amazing, isn’t she?” said Mary. “Miss Jane is a regular font of useless knowledge and activity.”

  “It is what you pay me for.”

  Mary laughed. “True. Well, Robert, how about let’s put on our thinking caps and outwit Miss Jane?”

  “I could go for that.”

  “I know! Why don’t you come with me to the party? There will doubtlessly be some eligible young ladies there. Joy has a herd of granddaughters. Ellen Phillips has some, too, though, I’ll warn you, boy, they’re really not much to write home about.”

  “I’m sure they’re lovely,” he said. “Did you say a herd?”

  Mary chortled with glee. “I won’t have an escort. My late son used to always go with me. I’ll miss him this year. I’m bound to get maudlin without something nice to distract me.”

  “You’ll have me as an escort,” Riley put in.

  “I’d love to come,” Rob said quickly.

  Mary offered him one of her bejeweled hands like Queen Victoria. He didn’t bend and kiss it, of course, but gave the withered hand a gentle squeeze between his two hands. She was with it, this old broad. He could tell. He felt a rush of admiration and knew instinctively that she couldn’t be a party to any of the dealings her son or grandson might have had or have with Louis Vasco. He also felt another uncharacteristic stab of guilt at having to use her this way.

  “Good to meet you, Robert. I look forward to it and that’s a miracle these days. I just spotted Leslie Anderson, my lawyer’s wife, so I’ll leave you with Miss Encyclopedia Jane Brown. She will give you the particulars about the party. She remembers everything.” She glared at Jane. “If you get the address wrong, Jane, heads will roll.”

  “I hear you, Mary.”

  The old lady wheeled off and Rob was left alone with Riley, who was looking rather ill-at-ease and tight about the mouth. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring grin.

  “Are you up to something, Mr. Murphy?” she asked him outright.

  “Pardon me?” he answered with feigned incredulity.

  “Are you after something from Mary? There are ways of having people like you checked out. To see if you’re who you say you are.”