Stone of Thieves (Robbin' Hearts Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

shoulders and shaking him a little. It’s useless, I know, like trying to rattle a wall. So I boldly grab the stone back from his fist.
    “Maybe this is just a stupid rock,” I point out in a flat tone to hide my panic, half-tempted to chuck it into the canal. “And I simply had a bad dream. Maybe we shouldn’t be running all over Venice to find my mom if it puts us in danger with a bunch of street swindlers—”
    “Oh baby,” Creek’s deep voice rolls as gently as the Adriatic Sea. His fingers stroke the line near my temple where the bullet grazed my head. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized it had left a mark. “We’re in danger now no matter what we do. As good as fucking dead. Don’t you see that?”
    He cups my face and kisses me so fiercely it makes my tears return. Like a man who might not see me in the morning—or ever again. The rawness of his skin against mine, our sweep of tongues melding with his lips hot and violent, makes me tremble all the way to my core. I’m not sure, but I think both our mouths are bleeding.
    “Listen to me, Robin,” he cuts away, fighting for breath, “I say, fuck ’em. Whoever wants this stone is gonna have to chase us all over Italy. Because we’re shadows, Robin—we are night. And we don’t give in. No matter what happens, we’re going find your mother if it’s the last thing we do. You understand?”
    I nod my head tentatively, scared as hell.
    Creek crushes me in his arms, too tight, but I want it this way. He feels like he’s trying to cocoon me into his soul for safety, and God as my witness, if I could crawl inside his chest right now, I would. He brushes—bruises—my neck with another piercing kiss. I can taste his blood lingering on my lips. And I feel like the very smell of him, blood and sweat and soul of him, has somehow trickled into my bones. His taste, his scent, it swirls in my brain, a hot explosion of neuro-napalm. It’s molten and it’s now, and it’s exactly what I need.
    Creek’s hungry mouth slides down my throat, pressing a little too hard on my windpipe and nearly knocking the wind out of me. I don’t care—he can have my air. His lips slide across my collarbone and seek the swell of my breasts, burrowing into the soft fold of my cleavage. I hear him inhale deeply, as if the scent of our skin on skin strengthens him—maybe fuses us together like scattered rays of light into one beam. It’s then that he rests his head on my heart, which leaps at the press of his weight. I thread my fingers through his tangled hair, gripping fistfuls as if he’s my lifeline.
    Because he is.
    “Robin,” Creek whispers, breathless. He turns to stare up at the sky, at the star that had twinkled so brightly. “If we’re destined to meet our Maker on this trip, and there’s nothing we can do to change that, I want you whole in the afterlife.
All
of you. Because I will hunt you down and make you mine for eternity. Not a shattered soul like my mom, her heart shot to a million pieces. But someone who knows exactly who she is and what she wants. And who chooses me. Chooses
us
. And who never—ever—runs and hides.”
    I unravel the knots in Creek’s hair with my fingers, bowled over by his words. I don’t want him to know how hot and fast my tears are flowing right now. This kind of love is rare—maybe it only happens once in a lifetime, or within a whole generation of lifetimes. Or only to those whose fates are delicately inscribed in those stars . . .
    And maybe the stone knows that.
    Because ever since I’ve been holding it in my hand with Creek in my arms, it burns like a fire. It’s so hot, it’s everything I can do to not let it go.
    And I don’t know how to tell Creek that. All I want him to know is that I’m not giving up, either.
    I choose
us
.
    Leaning down, I press a kiss to his forehead, relishing the saltiness and hint of pine and charcoal on his skin. As I do, I hear a voice echo across the canal like a ghost. Glancing up, I see