Rhys straightened, reached out, and stroked her jaw.
She leaned into his touch for a second, then she swiveled. “Asshole.” She glared at the mostly unconscious man on the ground. Then she kicked him. The man grunted. “He tried to kidnap me.”
Rhys was happy to hear that she was pissed. He yanked out his phone.
“Are you calling the police?” She wrapped her arms around herself, running her hands up and down her arms like she was cold.
“No.”
She cocked her head. “No?”
The call connected. “Saxon, need you to come and do a pickup. A guy just tried to snatch Haven off the street.”
“What the fuck?” Saxon paused. “Haven okay?”
“Yeah, just shaken.” And starting to look furious.
“Is the guy still breathing?” Saxon asked.
“Yes, through a broken nose.” Rhys rattled off their location.
“Okay, on my way.”
The man on the ground shook his head, watching them blearily.
Haven snatched up her dropped shoe and phone, slipping her shoe back on. She still looked shaken and Rhys wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to his chest. She was stiff at first, then she leaned into him, her forehead resting against his shirt. Damn, she felt good tucked up against him.
Then she made a small sound that sounded like a sob.
“Hey, it’s all right now,” he murmured.
Her hands clenched on his shirt. “Sorry,” she sniffed.
“You’ve had a rough twenty-four hours. You’re entitled to freak out.”
“Yes, well, I’ve learned the best way to deal with freak-outs is to do it alone, with wine.”
Frowning, he looked down at the top of her head. He hated hearing the resignation in her voice. He wanted her to turn to him, lean on him.
Hell, he’d never felt that way before. He tipped her chin up. “I’m right here.”
Her blue gaze skittered away.
The man on the ground moved and Rhys flicked him a glance. “Don’t even think about it.”
At the cutting tone of Rhys’ voice, the guy’s shoulders slumped.
“What are you going to do with him?” Haven asked.
“Ask him a few questions.”
Rhys saw the gears turning in that clever head of hers.
“Wait, you think he has something to do the theft? I don’t think so. This was random.”
Rhys rubbed his fingers up her arm. “Don’t worry about it.”
She threw a hand up. “He tried to drag me off the street and shove me in a car.” She shuddered. “I’m going to worry about it, Rhys.”
He tightened his hold on her.
She stilled, her gaze running over his face. “What?”
“That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”
“What? No, that can’t be right.”
“You avoid me like the plague, Haven. Believe me, it’s the first time you’ve said my name.” He paused. “Been waiting a long time to hear you say it.”
He heard her sharp breath, then she glanced away, like the brick wall of the nearby building was suddenly fascinating. Her hands clenched tighter on his shirt.
“You going to ignore me while standing in my arms?”
“I thought I’d give it a try.”
His lips twitched.
“You are pretty hard to ignore.” Her gaze met his. “I do owe you a thank you. For rescuing me.” A frown creased her brow. “Why were you here?”
“I heard that a certain stubborn museum curator was not at home resting the morning after being attacked. Instead, she’s been taking gifts to injured guards in the hospital, and traipsing around the city, trying to do my job.”
She licked her lips, which made him look at them. They were pink and perfectly shaped, and gave him dirty ideas.
“I’m fine. And… And I need to help, Rhys. I feel like this is all my fault. My job is to take care of the museum and all the artwork. To look out for our employees. I let those thieves in, and they hurt the guards—”
“Not your fault. The guys who took the painting are not amateurs.”
A sleek, black BMW X6 SUV screeched to a stop beside them, and Saxon and Vander got out. Vander’s turbulent gaze shifted to the man on the ground, then came back to them.
“Haven, you okay?” Vander asked.
She nodded.
Vander and Saxon heaved the man up. He went in sullen silence, and Saxon shoved him in the back of the X6.
“We’ll put him in a holding room,” Vander said. “Ask him a few questions.”
Rhys lifted his chin. He wanted to go in and question the man himself, but he needed to take care of Haven.
She cleared her throat. “Ah, is ask a few questions a euphemism for rough him up a bit?”
The corner of Vander’s mouth twitched. “No.”
The breath rushed out of her. “Oh, good.”
“It’s a euphemism for, if he doesn’t answer my questions, I’ll beat the shit out of him,” Vander said. “Catch you guys later.” He slid into the SUV’s driver seat.
A second later, the vehicle pulled away.
“Your brother is scary as hell.”
Rhys didn’t disagree. He’d grown up with Vander—who’d been an intense teenager with a strong sense of right and wrong. He’d worked alongside Vander in some bad places, under fire, with a lot on the line. Vander still had a code he followed, but it wasn’t so black-and-white anymore.
“Come on.” Rhys led her down the street and paused beside his silver Mercedes GTS.
She eyed the sportscar. “This looks fast…and expensive.”
He helped her into the passenger seat.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He pulled into traffic. “My place.”
“What?” she squeaked.
“Your palms are scraped, and you’re shaking. You’re in shock.”
She clasped her hands together. “Just take me home.”
“Nope.”
“So, I have been kidnapped.”
Rhys took a turn, heading toward his apartment. “I’m going to clean your hands, make you a drink. Probably a shot of whiskey.”
“I hate whiskey.”
“This is a whiskey moment, angel.”
She was quiet for the rest of the drive. Stewing. Rhys could sense it. Having Gia for a sister—a woman who rarely held back exactly what she was feeling—had given him plenty of experience.
They arrived at his building and he parked in the underground parking. He pulled in beside his Kawasaki Ninja, which he saw Haven eye with interest.
“You ever been on a bike?” he asked.
She shook her head.
He smiled. “You’ll like it.”
It was a quick elevator ride up to his apartment, and he let them through the front door.
She walked across his open-plan living room to the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. He had a great view of the Bay Bridge.
“Holy cow,” she murmured.
He paused for a second. He liked seeing her silhouetted against the glass. Liked seeing her in his place. It was weird, since he rarely brought women back here.
She turned, taking in his place. Her gaze snagged on the far wall and her eyebrows rose. “You collect…toy cars?”