Sleepwalker by Karen Robards Read Free Book Online

would have been able to convince her that he was capable of murder. But she had …
    “Toward the pool house.” The thief’s voice was taut with tension. His fingers dug into her arm. Her gun—and it irked her to no end that he had her gun—was aimed at her. Glancing up at his face, she saw that it was hard and set. As she’d thought, he was young—maybe thirty. When she’d snatched off his mask, she’d been surprised to discover that he was way handsome, with close-cropped black hair, a lean, angular face, a straight nose, well-cut mouth and strong jaw, and the kind of naturally swarthy skin that took easily to a tan. He was also as physically fit as she was, although a whole lot less skilled in hand-to-hand combat, to say nothing of less determined to win.
    “You got a getaway vehicle back there?” Her voice was faintlybreathless. Yes, he could shoot her, but he hadn’t done it yet and she didn’t think it was going to happen, at least not on purpose. As a four-year veteran police officer who had just gotten promoted to investigator in the major crimes division, she’d dealt with plenty of killers, and he didn’t give off that kind of vibe. Her verdict was robber, yes, murderer, no.
    “Just run.”
    Right now his long strides were eating up the distance to the pool house, and, weighted down by the suitcase, she had to struggle to keep up. The pool house—a tiny marble replica of the Parthenon—glowed palely against the jagged backdrop of the giant pine trees behind it. Tall evergreen shrubs set in pots around the pool sparkled with white Christmas lights. The snow atop the pool cover glittered like soap bubbles. It was only as Mick registered that the crystalline sparkle of the snow was a reflection of the Christmas lights that she realized the outside lights had just been turned on. All the outside lights.
    Someone, somewhere, had flipped a switch. The yard had suddenly lit up bright as day.
    Trouble.
    “Shit,” her captor said, obviously noticing.
    Shit, indeed.
    “Guess what? They can see us.” Throwing the taunt up at him as he practically towed her along after him as he ran, Mick nodded in the direction of the closest security camera, which was affixed to a light pole disguised as a Greek column at the edge of the pool. The night was so cold that tiny puffs of white smoke came out of her mouth as she spoke. Goose bumps raced over her skin, a lot of which was exposed. She was dressed for bed, not the great outdoors, and her nerve endings were already quivering in shock from the unexpected arctic blast. The crisp, damp smell of fresh snow filled her nostrils. Yet she barely registeredany of it. Her head spun with plans, scenarios, recipes for disaster and redemption. Spun so fast that she could barely make sense out of any of them. All she knew, with absolute conviction, was that she had to get away while she could. Later, when she was safe, she could reason this whole mess through.
    “Faster,” he ordered.
    “The only way you’re getting faster out of me is if I drop this damn suitcase.” Which was heavy and clumsy and hard to hold on to and contained nothing that interested her anyway.
    “If I have to choose between you and the suitcase, baby, believe me, you’re history.”
    “Is that supposed to scare me?”
    “Depends on how smart you are.”
    “Smart enough not to rob a house with a cop in it, anyway.”
    “Shut up and run.”
    Mick’s lip curled in contempt even as she complied. If she’d made any one of half a dozen moves, he would have been flat on his face in the snow. Lucky for him, she had a reason to be cooperative. For now. The problem was, she was having a hard time reconciling her instincts with what she was rapidly concluding was the inescapable fact that she needed him.
    Certainly she wasn’t happy about it. The guy was a criminal, and she was letting him—no, helping him—get away. With a suitcase filled with stolen money. It went against every bit of moral fiber