The Cocky Thief (Stolen Hearts Book 1)

  By Mallory Crowe

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Fonts used with permission from Microsoft.

  Copyright © 2017 by Mallory Crowe

  Mallory Crowe (2017-1-17). The Cocky Thief (Stolen Hearts Book One)

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Epilogue

  THE BEAUTIFUL THIEF Sneak Peek!

  Check out all of Mallory Crowe's Books!

  “If someone dies, the deal is off. If someone gets hurt, the deal is off. If anyone finds out I hired you, the deal is off.”

  “This is going to be fun,” said Austin dryly as he brought the shot of whiskey to his mouth.

  The wet blanket—otherwise known as Scott Hart—took the drink from Austin’s hand and slammed it on the bar. A few of the precious drops swished over the sides. “I need you to focus.”

  Austin ran a hand through his slicked-back hair and glanced into the mirror behind the bar to scan the room behind him. “I’m more focused than you could ever imagine. The only thing distracting me right now is the payday I’m missing.”

  “I told you. Once you get the package, you get the USB drive and a portion of the payoff.”

  The package. Austin didn’t remember the last time he worked a job where the item he was supposed to procure wasn’t explicitly stated. But Hart was different. Not only did he have major trust issues, but he happened to have something he wanted. Something he was staking his entire career on.

  Well, if you could call robbing people for a living a career.

  Austin once again looked into the mirror and then at his watch.

  “The plane could be boarding any minute,” reminded Hart.

  “I’m aware.” Austin took a drink of his mostly untouched water, glaring at Hart the entire time. As though even as he was following the rules, he was breaking them at the same time.

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Hart glanced around, pointing out Austin’s obvious inaction. “You’re sitting on your ass.”

  “That is lesson number one. The best plots are the ones where you sit on your ass while everything works just the way you want it to.”

  As if on cue, the man Austin had been staring at in the mirror suddenly jerked in his seat. A second later, he threw some money on the table, picked up his briefcase and suit jacket before he left the bar and made a beeline for the bathroom.

  “Looks like I’m on call.” Austin stood. “Wish me luck.” In one quick motion, he downed the rest of the whiskey before Hart could stop him. “See you on the other side.”

  “This had better work!” called Hart as Austin left the airport bar. He headed across the aisle quickly, but kept his strides measured as to not draw any attention. Airport jobs were some of the easiest jobs. Everyone was so focused on getting to their gate, or getting last-minute snacks, or their last-minute bathroom breaks that it was almost impossible to not blend in.

  When he walked inside the bathroom, it was easy enough to find the stall where Chris Luther was currently emptying the contents of his stomach. The two other guys in the bathroom quickly left to a less disgusting place and soon enough Austin and Luther were alone. He looked at his watch. Five minutes until boarding.

  He gently knocked on the stall door. “Sir? I’m with airport security. Do you need assistance?”

  “No, I—” The sudden heaving sort of belied the denial.

  “Why don’t you open the door, sir? I want to make sure you get medical attention if required.”

  The door finally opened and Austin knelt. “How are you feeling? Did you eat anything questionable? Maybe seafood?”

  The man sitting on the floor of the bathroom was pale and a thin sheen of sweat had broken out over his face. “I had the sushi.”

  Airport sushi. As much as he tried, he’d never fully understand people. “That’s probably it. There’s been a nasty bacteria coming in on the...”

  “Salmon?” asked Luther with a panicked voice.

  “Salmon,” confirmed Austin.

  “Is it deadly?”

  Austin let out a deep sigh. “I think you should get down to the medical station. Let me help you up.” As the man stood, Austin reached down to pick up the briefcase and jacket. “Right this way.” Once they left the bathroom, Austin pointed to the left. “The medical office is right down there.”

  Luther gave him a panicked look. “You’re not coming with me?”

  “I’m going to let your flight know that you’re not going to be on board. What’s the flight number?”

  He could tell Luther wasn’t keen on the idea of separating but suddenly he clutched at his stomach and Austin knew he had him. “Don’t worry. You head to medical and I’ll figure it out.”

  Luther wordlessly nodded before he turned and ran off down the hall. Austin gave it a few seconds before he slid Luther’s jacket on over his shoulders and started off to look for the boarding pass. Hart hadn’t known where Luther was flying to, so now it was time to find out. He looked through the briefcase pockets, but there was no boarding pass. However, when he flipped through the wallet he’d lifted off the guy, there it was. Like he said, airport jobs were always the easiest.

  Seat 2C, first-class ticket to San Francisco. This job wouldn’t be all bad.

  He got to the gate right as they were calling passengers for the first-class cabin. As soon as he let the gate attendant scan his ticket, his phone rang. He would’ve ignored it, but he was almost certain Hart needed some sort of reassurance.

  “How did you do it?” asked Hart.

  “Just slipped a little something into his miso soup,” said Austin after making sure no one was in hearing range on the airbridge.

  “No, you didn’t. I was watching you the entire time.”

  “We all have our secrets. I’m boarding right now. If you don’t have anything important to say...”

  “He’s going to be okay?”

  Austin lowered his voice. “Killing people raises questions. I don’t like questions. Now I’m on the plane. It’s time for you to do your part.”

  “Luthe
r won’t be raising any questions,” assured Hart. “Once you make it to the grounds, you get in touch.”

  “And then you’ll tell me what this mysterious package is?”

  “I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

  “Come on, buddy. It’s like you don’t trust me.”

  “I don’t trust criminals.”

  “After what I just did with you watching, you’re a criminal too. Welcome to the club.” He made it to the entrance of the plane and gave the flight attendant up front a quick nod, but when he turned to the aisle all he could see were legs.

  Namely, the long, toned pair in the window seat right next to the seat listed on Luther’s boarding pass. “Gotta go,” he said into the phone. “It’s show time.” He hung up before Hart could say anything and slid into his seat. The woman with the fantastic legs didn’t look up from her phone. Ahh, first-class mentality. Every time he flew coach, the person next to him would chat his ear off the entire flight, but in first class it was dead silence.

  Probably for the best. He was here to work, not to get laid. But once again he found himself skimming his eyes along the delicate ankle, toned calf, and up the thigh exposed by the sitting position. He was willing to bet that when she stood, she was decent, but from where he was looking, the view was downright—

  “Chris Luther?” she asked, still not looking up from her phone.

  Austin kept any surprise from showing on his face. This wasn’t the first time he’d faced a curveball while on the job. As tempting as it was to lie, he knew it would be too easy to prove he wasn’t Chris Luther. So, he went with a better lie. “Austin Raye.” He held out a hand, which was promptly ignored. “Chris got a bout of stomach flu and I’m filling in.”

  That got the woman to glance at him from over her smartphone. Her gaze was unreadable and he couldn’t tell whether she was suspicious, turned on, or whether she really didn’t give a damn about him.

  Damn if that indifference didn’t make her hotter. She wore all black and it made her skin appear so light it was almost translucent. Obviously, she wasn’t one of the heiresses addicted to the tanning bed. And he had to admit that it agreed with her dark hair and hazel eyes. Everything about her was monochrome, down to her polished white fingernails. The only hint of color was the soft pink of her lips that appeared to be lipstick-free. Just gently moistened by either ChapStick or a quick pass of her tongue.

  And there was a hard-on. He shifted in his seat so she wouldn’t notice and pulled some papers out of the briefcase to cover his lap.

  “I don’t think Stranger is going to be happy that Chris couldn’t make it.” She continued to scroll through her phone. He tried to angle himself to see what exactly she was paying so much attention to, but she gave him a quick look out of the corner of her eyes, letting him know he’d been caught snooping.

  “Stranger is going to have to deal with it,” said Austin confidently. If anyone called and asked questions, well, it was Hart’s job to keep his cover safe. He didn’t normally trust people he didn’t, well, trust, but Hart was different. He wasn’t motivated by things Austin was used to, like money and greed. Austin didn’t know the whole story yet, but he knew enough to realize that Scott Hart was after revenge. And that made him dependable. At least for as long as their goals meshed. “Besides, if I don’t show up, there’s no wedding.”

  That got her full attention and a raised brow. “You’re not exactly the preacher.”

  “No. But I’m the lawyer with the prenuptial agreement. No marriage is complete without one. Apparently, Stranger isn’t a hundred percent sold on this new marriage.”

  “Does everyone think the bride is a money-grubbing whore, then?”

  Austin had wandered into an emotional minefield here and considering he had no idea who the woman next to him was, he needed to play his cards close to the vest. “In this day and age, people just want to be safe. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name. How do you know the happy couple?”

  She regarded him a few long moments before she answered. “Jennifer Murray. Daughter of the bride.”

  It took a special kind of asshole to stick her in the seat next to the attorney in charge of getting the prenup signed. In fact, Jennifer was sure that the paperwork could’ve been taken care of days ago. Stranger just wanted to have the power play of making sure Jennifer knew where she stood in the family dynamic.

  At least this guy was easy on the eyes. She’d done an image search of the lawyer she was supposed to be sitting next to during the six-hour flight from New York to California. Chris Luther was supposed to be balding, pudgy and, well, lawyerly. This guy was... She couldn’t quite put a finger on it. It wasn’t that he didn’t look like a lawyer. With the close-cut black hair and chiseled jawline, he would probably fit in wherever a suit was required. But there was still something off about him she couldn’t quite pin down.

  “Any reason why you’re going to a wedding and dressed like it’s a funeral?” he asked abruptly.

  She kept her face blank, careful not to let him see how close to the mark he’d hit. “Any reason why you’re asking questions that are none of your business?”

  He sighed. “This is going to be one of those long, boring plane rides I’m guessing...”

  She nodded in agreement. “Hope those papers are fascinating.” She turned back to her phone and read through her mother’s emails. The wedding was so rushed, there had to be something she was missing. The evidence of the prenup was sitting right next to her, so she had to assume Isobel wasn’t marrying Stranger for money. But Jennifer could be sure of one thing.

  Isobel would never marry for love.

  The passengers continued to shuffle into the plane and Jennifer set her phone down as she rested her head back against the headrest. Soon enough she’d be with her mother and finally able to ask her all the questions that had been tossing around in her mind.

  She was just about to doze off when the plane shook underneath her, signaling takeoff. Her eyes popped open and she looked out the window as the plane lifted away from the ground and the skyscrapers suddenly became smaller. She moved her forehead closer to the window as she took in the view until they were moving over the water and away from the city.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the lawyer staring and she gave him a quick glare. “Can I help you?”

  He held up his hands. “No. Just shocked that there’s one New Yorker who isn’t too jaded to enjoy flying.”

  “I’m not a New Yorker,” she said, before realizing that was a piece of personal information he didn’t need to know. “Flying is a miracle. It deserves to be appreciated and not taken for granted.”

  The lawyer raised a skeptical brow. “It’s not a miracle. It’s science and physics.”

  “Sometimes science and magic are one and the same.”

  She expected him to fight with her about it, but instead, one corner of his mouth went up to form a crooked grin. “I like you, Jennifer Murray. I think this is going to be a fun flight.”

  She scoffed at the bold statement. “Speak for yourself.”

  “Oh no. I’m speaking for the both of us. I think you’re going to enjoy the hell out of yourself.”

  “Cockiness isn’t attractive in a man.”

  “Cocky is sexy as hell in a man. And don’t worry. I have enough to spare.”

  Jennifer opened her mouth to respond, but for the first time in a long time, she found herself speechless. Luckily the flight attendant chose that moment to stop by and ask whether they’d like any drinks. Jennifer ordered a red wine while the man next to her ordered a Jack on the rocks. Not the fanciest whiskey, but considering he was filling in for Luther, he might not be used to flying first class.

  Jennifer still remembered the first time her mother had gotten them upgraded to the premium cabin. The air of wonder combined with the knowledge that she didn’t belong. If this truly was the lawyer’s first time in first class, he wasn’t anything like she was on that flight so long ago.


  “So have you ever done a wedding like this?” she asked.

  “I’ve been to my fair share of high-class functions.”

  Jennifer wondered whether he knew he wasn’t giving her an answer or not. She let it go, though. “They’re exhausting. It’s one event after another. I have three checked bags full of outfit changes and I get to navigate through a sea of important people who all need to like me and I don’t know any of them. And if you want to make a good name for your firm, you better brush up on your small talk and get ready to bash some Democrats. They love that.”

  “I thought politics were off-limits.”

  “That’s for polite conversation. If you want someone to like you, you only talk political views the other person agrees with.”

  “So what do I say to make you like me?”

  Jennifer couldn’t help the honest laugh that escaped her. There was something so strange about being with someone who spoke his mind like Austin. She was so used to double meanings and hidden agendas. Was this truly just a lower member of a law firm who happened to be horny?

  Considering how attractive he was, maybe this would be the perfect distraction for what was sure to be a stressful week. She shifted in her seat to get a better view of her new seatmate and she didn’t miss his not-so-subtle glance down to her legs. She knew there was a reason she spent all those hours on the treadmill.

  She didn’t answer his question, but she didn’t shut him out either. Instead, she switched the conversation to him. “So do you live in New York?”

  “I’m based out of the city now, but I don’t really live anywhere.”

  That was interesting. It reminded her of her mother. Isobel was never the type to be tied down and that ideology had trickled into Jennifer’s life as well. She had her apartment in the city that she was based out of, but she traveled so much that it was hard to call her apartment home.

  “The firm lets you travel a lot then?”

  “Sometimes you have to make them give you what you want. I make sure that the partners are aware that I don’t like to be tied down.”

  “And they listen?”