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I almost laughed. But then I paused, trying to remember the last time I’d honestly laughed. Stunned because this little spitfire of a thief had almost made me laugh, I blinked at her in astonishment. Then I shook my head, jostling my head back into the game as I said, “So you were walking innocently down the hall, where you were accosted out of nowhere by some racist stranger who mistook you for a servant, and then what? You figured she deserved to be robbed because she was a bad person, so you broke in after she left to perform your own brand of justice?”
“Well…” She shifted as if uncomfortable, and her gaze went leery with guilt. “Not exactly. You see, she—” Motioning blindly, Gabby waved a hand toward the opening of the hall. “She told me to go inside and clean a stain on her floor.”
“Okay,” I drew out slowly when she didn’t elaborate further. “And then what?”
“Then…” Growing even more agitated, she scowled at me as if blaming me for all her problems before she muttered, “I mean, she left the door wide open for me, so…”
“So?”
“So I went inside and cleaned it.”
“You cleaned it?” I repeated, squinting deeply into her eyes. “The stain? On her floor?”
; “Yes,” she answered, staring right back at me with the same intensity. “That’s what I just said.”
I pulled back, sniffing. “Why the fuck would you clean her floor after she insulted your entire heritage?” I lifted my hands, not believing her bullshit story in the least. “Because I can’t imagine she was polite about her request.”
“Wow.” Lifting her eyebrow as if impressed, she blew out a whistle. “You know her well.”
“You have no idea,” I growled, only to get right back on track. “Where’s this stain?”
“I told you.” She furrowed her brow incredulously. “I cleaned it. It no longer exists.”
Blowing out a breath, I shook my head, impressed by her story. What a clever little liar, inventing a cleaned stain, which in turn would wipe away all evidence that might’ve proven her tale untrue.
So very creative.
But I wasn’t one to give up easily. “How long ago?” I pressed.
“How long ago what?” she asked with a bewildered shake of her head.
“How long ago did you clean this notorious stain? Will the carpet still be wet where you scrubbed so thoroughly, working your ass off to make it disappear?”
“Oh my God, no. You do not scrub carpet stains, honey. That’s like begging them to permanently set in. You blot them.”
“Well then, honey,” I spat back. “Where did you blot the carpet clean?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I just told you. In the hall.”
I splayed out a hand, offering her to lead the way. “Show me.”
“Holy shit. You just don’t give up, do you? Fine. It’s this way.” Then she smirked. “Prepare to be proven wrong.”
When I snorted, she spun away defiantly and started for the hallway. There was a back exit she could access by going further down that hall. I didn’t know if she was aware of it or not, but I wasn’t taking any chances, so I leapt after her and snagged her hand, which caused her to startle in surprise and glance up at me questioningly before she sarcastically sniped, “Wow, I didn’t realize you cared.”
“Always,” I quipped back with an engaging grin, only to take it a step further and draw her fingers to my mouth so I could gently kiss her knuckles, really egging her on.
She slowed to a stop, gaping at me as if I’d lost my mind. So I batted my lashes, feeling as if I’d just won that sparring match. “Can’t let my lovely prisoner escape on me, now can I?”
And, yes, victory was mine. I had rendered her absolutely speechless. She stared at me with nothing to say in return.
I leaned toward her and softly prompted, “The stain, my love?”
“The stain?” she repeated absently, as if she couldn’t even remember what a stain was. Then she jumped and blinked herself present again. “Oh, right. The stain.” After a quick scan at the floor, she pointed. “It was there.”
Keeping hold of her hand, I knelt down on one knee. She tried to pull her fingers free, but I refused to let go, so she snapped, “Really? You still think I’m going to run when I’m busy trying to prove my innocence to you?”
