Stolen: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Heists & Hearts Book 1) (4 page)

Dirk St. James. I don’t want to call him by his name. He should remain nameless. A wild one night stand. I wonder if I could handle having him be my friend with benefits. Do billionaires do that? Or is it just the benefits without the friend part? Even as I think it over, I know the answer: Dirk St. James doesn’t need more friends.

I’m still walking through the station when my cell phone rings. The caller ID shows as “private.” I normally wouldn’t answer, but the day has gone so strangely already that I’m pretty much prepared for anything.

“Hello?” I answer, not so much as a greeting but as a question.

“Ms. Benson?”

“Speaking.”

“My name is Roger Sayles, and I would like to discuss the investigative work that you will be doing for Dirk St. James.” I’m quiet, and Sayles continues, his voice full of uncertainty. “I’m sorry, I was told that the mayor talked to you. You are aware that Dirk St. James has hired you to investigate a private matter?”

I can’t help but laugh. “No, the mayor did not talk to me. Neither did the chief of police or the precinct captain. Don’t worry, though, my sergeant talked to me, so I got the message.”

“Ah, good. Rest assured that this case will not affect your police work.” 

“I understand,” I reply. “I also understand that this isn’t optional.”

“Oh, this is entirely optional, Ms. Benson.”

“Right. Tell that to the mayor, the chief of police, the captain, or my own sergeant.”

“I apologize if that is their understanding, Ms. Benson, but it is wrong. The intent was solely to clear away any potential roadblocks to you being able to do the work if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, that may have been your intent, but the result is that I’m now stuck with this job.” I’m bitter, and I don’t mind showing it. I hate when someone describes something as voluntary when it is no such thing. 

“That’s unfortunate, Ms. Benson, but perhaps you’ll think differently when you hear about the case.”

“I doubt it,” I reply. Everything about what has happened annoys me. I’m annoyed that Dirk didn’t call me himself. I’m annoyed that he called the mayor to force me to do what he wanted. I’m annoyed that I think he can’t possibly truly be interested in me.

“I am texting you an address. Please be there at seven o’clock. I believe your shift is over at six.” Of course he knows when my shift is over. It is just one more piece of information for Dirk to buy.

“Great. Looking forward to it.” I didn’t work too hard to cover the sarcasm in my voice. “So what do you look like or are you going to come track me down as I wander around the address?”

“Oh, I won’t be meeting you, Ms. Benson. That’s Mr. St. James’ office. He’ll meet you directly.” 

DIRK

She looked annoyed, and it turned me on even more than seeing her in a tank top and tights at the gym. When you spur the horse, the ride may be rougher but you get to the destination faster. I was looking forward to a wild ride. 

I strode over to her. “Jill, I’m so glad you came.” She looked at me, and there it was—a spark of desire. That it was quickly clouded over by a frown didn’t matter.

“I didn’t have a choice, Mr. St. James.” We’re in the lobby of my office, which is in Victory Park. It’s a large building that I own, with a number of my businesses operating there. A number of people stop to look at me as they pass through the lobby.

“Of course you have a choice. I’ll be disappointed, of course, if you decide not to continue.” I pause and touch her arm with my hand. “But why don’t you come up to my office and hear about the job first. You may change your mind when you hear all the details.” 

She is frozen in place, and I can’t tell if she is aware of the precipice I am guiding her along or whether she is just angry over my taking control of the situation. Someday she’ll understand that my taking control is what is saving her from the treacherous path. But today I just need her to take that next step. “And please, call me Dirk.”

“I’ll listen to the details of your case, Mr. St. James, but I can’t promise anything more than that.” 

I lead her up to my office. 

JILL

Dirk is in a suit that somehow makes him sexier than him being half naked in the gym. I’m not sure I can even think clearly, although the words I’m saying seem to project the anger I’m aiming for. Still, when he touches my arm I practically melt. 

We are heading up to his office, alone in an elevator. He stands with his back to the doors, staring at me with his hands in the pockets of his pants, a slight smile on his face. It is a look of casual yet supreme confidence. I’m in my uniform, and it makes me uncomfortable, as it isn’t the kind of outfit that lets me show off my cleavage while downplaying my other curves. It’s just… me.
Wait, why am I thinking of showing off my cleavage?

The door opens on the top floor and Dirk holds the door open and waves me through. 
Wait, when’did I start calling him Dirk?
 I walk through, letting him believe he’s being the gentleman. 

We walk down a long hallway with doors on each side, all closed. At the very end is a small reception area with a beautiful girl sitting behind a desk. She looks about my age. Behind her is an open door. Through the door I see a large office with huge glass windows overseeing downtown Dallas.

Entering the reception area, Dirk pauses. “Mary, this is Officer. Benson. She is going to help me with the Klimt situation. So please hold my calls.” Mary nods but doesn’t even bother to say hi to me. Dirk doesn’t seem to care and walks me into his office, closing the door behind us.

The view is extraordinary. All the walls are glass, and it looks like the office is suspended on a cloud. I stand at the door staring out at Dallas and the various pretty bridges over the Trinity River. 

“Please, have a seat.” Dirk is standing behind his desk and points to a plush chair facing it. I walk over and sit down. Dirk sits after I do and peers at me. He looks at ease, even happy.

“You don’t look very comfortable. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you.” I consider reminding him I’m in uniform but figure it’s rather obvious. I cross my legs at my ankles and drop my hands between my legs. I try to look curious yet detached. 

“You don’t seem very relaxed.”

I’m not sure what Dirk’s game is. He is teasing me in some fashion, I’m sure, which is a bit maddening. Can’t he just be serious for a minute? “I’m quite relaxed Mister St. James. I’m just waiting to hear about the job.”

“No. You aren’t nearly as relaxed as when you were bent over the bench in the gym.” 

I can’t believe he is so blunt and crass. It was foolish of me to expect anything approaching romance. Sure, he was dressed in a pristine suit and looked like he was a modern day prince, but his words are all wrong. I stand up. “I don’t need this. Please find a new officer to help you.”

“Wait.” His voice is commanding yet calm. I look at him, and there is an intensity in his eyes that seems like more than just physical desire. I stand there, peering at him, curious what he’ll say next. “Please sit down.” 

“Are you going to talk about the case?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Wrong answer,” I reply, and I’m good and truly pissed. It’s clear he has a thing for me, but it’s also clear that it’s nothing but physical. He wants a fuck toy, and while I’d be okay with that in some circumstances, being at a rich dude’s beck and call while everyone from the mayor on down knows I’m his policewoman booty call is not one of them. I turn to leave.

“Wait. I want to show you something special.” His voice sounds amused, and I let my frustration get the best of me.

“You don’t mean your dick, do you?” 

“You didn’t think it was special?” I shake my head and started walking out.

“In 1894, Gustav Klimt was commissioned by the University of Vienna for a series of three paintings.” I stop but don’t face him. In a single sentence he has piqued my curiosity. “He produced three paintings. In 1945 all three paintings were believed lost when the Germans burned the Austrian castle where they were stored to the ground.” There’s a depth of emotion to his voice that surprises me. I turn around, wanting to see his face as he discusses something that he clearly cares about. “Would you like to see two of them?”

Nazi loot. I immediately think of the cases major crimes pursues. “Are they stolen?”

“No. I bought them in private auction.”

So, grey market. I walk back over and sit down. I don’t know much about art, but I’m completely intrigued by the idea of the behind-the-scenes maneuvering for art that has been presumed destroyed. What do the authorities do when a piece of art that isn’t supposed to exist goes missing? I stare at Dirk, and the look of supreme confidence is back on his face. He knows he has me hooked, but there is nothing I can do about it. I 
am
 hooked. Finally, I ask the obvious question. “And where is the third?”

He smiles. “
That one
 was stolen.”

DIRK

My response invites a lot of questions but Jill doesn’t ask any, which I’m glad about. There will be plenty of time for questions later. Questions like: The painting was stolen, but was it stolen recently? Stolen from its rightful owner in the distant past? Was it stolen and then stolen again? The possibilities are intriguing, and my hope is that Jill latches on to those possibilities while we enjoy our moments of passion. Anything that keeps her physically close yet emotionally distant. 

I stand up. “Follow me,” I say, and she does. I can’t believe how well things are going. 

I walk her down the hall to my gallery. It is naturally lit like the Kimball Museum in Ft. Worth and holds my private collection—art pieces that have special meaning to me and that I can’t bear to share via a museum loan or pieces that would be problematic with a public unveiling. 

Jill’s eyes are wide as we walk past pieces by Mondrian and a few of the impressionist masters. I stop in front of my Klimt display. 

“This is 
Jurisprudence
,” I say, pointing to a large painting that is well lit by natural lighting via large skylights. I take a step and point at the next painting. “This is 
Medicine
. Note the amazing colors and imagery. Klimt is a genius.” 

I’m not really looking at Jill. I can’t help but be drawn into the beauty of the paintings. For a moment I forget everything and let Klimt fill my soul.

JILL

Dirk’s voice is sexy and alluring in its sincerity and how full of awe it is. His love for the painting is clearly deep and real. He is not a collector who considers art an investment. 

I point to a blank spot on the wall to the right of the 
Medicine
 painting. “Is that where the third painting was stolen from?” 

He pauses in front of the space and stares at it. “No. That is where I hope to hang the painting. It is called 
Philosophy
 and is owned by Uhvanffy, a gallery owner in Uptown.” 

I walk over and stand in front of Dirk, looking up at him. “Are you telling me that the painting was stolen from Uhvanffy’s gallery?”

“Yes.”

“And this is a painting that you have already secured a spot for in your private gallery?”

“Yes.”

“You do realize that this is not good?” He nods without answering. “The police will see this and immediately consider you a suspect.”

“That’s why I hired you,” he replies. He seems unconcerned, and takes a sudden step back to the first painting. “This was considered pornography when it was released. Can you believe that?”

“We need to talk about this,” I point to the empty spot on the wall, shaking my head. I can’t believe his nonchalance. “I’m a 
cop
, Dirk. I can’t help you when 
we
 are investigating 
you
.” Major crimes was going to have a field day. His own gallery is practically a confession.

Nodding, he replies, “Let’s head back to my office.”

We were both quiet as we walk down the hall. Dirk presumably has the entire top floor to himself. There is his office and the gallery, and I notice some closed doors, but no other people. 

The only other person is his assistant, who sits at her desk looking gorgeous, with blonde hair, perfect make-up, and a tight body. Is this his thing? Having women on call? I was his convenient and curvy conquest at the gym, while he has a prettier and sexier girl on call outside his office.

I sit down as Dirk settles behind his desk. “So, I have questions.” 

Dirk nods, smiling as he does so. “I did enjoy our liaison in the gym.”

I close my eyes and grit my teeth. The truth is that I can’t help but think of getting Dirk naked. I’ve fantasized about it, but now he’s opened the door to what appeared to be a fascinating and self-damaging case of the stolen Klimt, and I want to know more about that.

“That’s not what I was asking,” I reply.

I look into his eyes, intending to glare, but I find myself lost in them. Why did he have to be so damn handsome? He held my gaze and then replies, “Yet it is the question that I answered.”

DIRK

I fully intend on fucking her right there, maybe with her tits pressed against my office window while I take her with the whole city watching beneath us. Maybe bent over my desk. Hell, maybe we’d just do it on the floor. That would provide more room to move. 

“You’re not going to tell me anything about the stolen piece of art, are you?”

She isn’t going to let it go, which makes it difficult for me to find an opportunity to kiss her but is also good news. She is thoroughly taken with the art theft and will keep her distance from messy relationship complications. It is exactly what I had hoped—she has moved into the objective mindset of a cop. The trouble is that I also want her in the mindset of the minx that stroked my cock with her ass. It is going to take a some work, but I know it will be worthwhile.

I now know what she wants on two counts—to study the art theft and to fuck me. I just have to make her want to fuck me 
when
 I want it. I can work with that. I’m a patient man. 

“I really don’t know anything, Jill,” I reply. “That’s why I hired you. I need information about what happened to the painting, and I believe a cop would make more progress than a private detective.”