Touched by a Thief (3 page)

“Thank you.”

A dark brow rose. “For?”

“Arranging my release. The limo. This.” She spread her arm, sending a spray of bubbles over the edge of the tub and onto the marble floor.

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, causing his gaze to drop to where the swell of her breasts bobbed above the water surface and mountains of rich white bubbles.

Gerard skimmed the bubbles with a long, masculine finger. “It’s as well you didn’t since it made procuring your release much simpler.”

“You know you have me now.” She gestured toward her luxurious surroundings. “Which is why none of this is necessary. You must know that.”

“Yes.” More than he would ever know. Jail messed with her mind. Or maybe it had been Ian who messed with her mind. Her heart. She’d get the Degassi Diamond, then she’d have revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge where Ian begged her for mercy.

Gerard’s thumb hooked her chin, lifting it to where their mouths practically touched. “You want me inside you?”

Four months without the tiniest quiver of an orgasm and a powerful, testosterone laden man next to her looking like sex on a stick, smelling so good from the mixture of his expensive cologne and his own masculine scent, she twitched from the memory of what he could do to her body. Oh yeah, she wanted him inside her.

She let her gaze travel over his mouth, his throat, lower, then she met his darkened eyes. “Perhaps you should join me and find out.”

He smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth without any trace of humor. “I demand loyalty of those I allow in my life and my bed.”

Monty held his gaze. “You know I am a thief. But even thieves have a code of honor.” She took his hand in hers, pulled it to her mouth and trailed her lips over his ring finger, letting her tongue trace over the unusual platinum band of the blue diamond ring he wore. Bold, expensive, mysterious. She’d never seen the intricate pattern, likely Gerard had commissioned a jeweler to design the ring. According to her informant, the Degassi diamond was a flawless, clear diamond, not a blue one. Still, her mouth watered at the prospect of slipping the ring from his finger and…no, she wouldn’t. “I will not bite the hand who rescued me. That is, unless you want me to.”

To prove her point, she sucked his finger into her mouth and nibbled on the tip, mimicking a sexual act they’d never shared.

His eyes glittered, and he slid his free hand beneath the bathwater to grasp her breast. He massaged the fullness, squeezed possessively.

Her nipples puckered, straining into his caress. No man had touched her since Ian. Deep in her mind’s recesses, she’d wondered if she’d respond to any other man than the one who’d stolen her heart. Relief filled her that Gerard’s touch gave pleasure, and she arched, thrusting her other breast above the bubbles.

Perhaps gratitude played a role. Perhaps the over four months without an orgasm did. Regardless she and Gerard had always shared an undeniable chemistry. Thank goodness Ian hadn’t robbed her of that as well.

Gerard cupped her breast, growled his pleasure.

Monty watched below half-closed lids, finding his caress pleasant. More than pleasant, hot. But she refused to compare the touch to Ian’s earth-shattering ones.

She leaned forward, dropped a pouty kiss on his lips. “Is my body the payment you demand in return for my freedom? Am I to be your sexual slave, Gerard?”

His hand on her breast tightened, as did his expression. “I forgot the sharpness of your tongue. Most women don’t speak so boldly to me.”

“I’m not most women.” The fact she’d not fallen at his wealthy, charismatic feet was the reason he’d lusted for her so long. She wasn’t such a fool as to pretend to be a simpering love spawn for his every pleasure. Men wanted what they couldn’t have.

He gave her breast a hard squeeze, then stood. “That you’re not, but I won’t force you.”

She would kill any man who tried. “Had I not wanted you, wanted what will happen between us, I would have slipped away during the drive here.”

He nodded slowly, although something in his eyes said he’d have spared no expense finding her. Or attempting to find her. Had she not wanted to be found, no one would have. She’d made it easy for the police because she hadn’t known what Ian had done, hadn’t known she’d been framed. Otherwise, she’d never have been caught. Damn Ian. Damn him to hell!

“A dress is on your bed. Meet me in my dining room in thirty minutes.”

Monty watched his confident strides to the doorway and wasn’t surprised when he turned, found her watching, and flashed his perfect teeth in a predatory smile. “Just so you know, you’re dessert.”

Chapter Three

Monty finished dressing, applying make-up, and styling her hair in twenty minutes, feeling amazingly female for the first time in months. Gerard made it easy by having everything she might desire at her disposal.

He’d set out a blue silk dress that perfectly matched her eyes, intentionally no doubt. For her feet, a pair of black, slinky Italian stilettos that belonged in a porn film had been placed next to the dress, their designer bag beneath them. A barely there scrap of black lace meant to ride up her crack and pretend to cover her privates provided her only piece of underwear. There was no bra. Subtlety wasn’t Gerard’s strong suit.

Always one for details and knowing one’s weakness, Gerard provided jewelry. A sapphire and diamond pendant on a delicate gold chain. A familiar pendant he’d given her following their shared night.

How had he known she’d sold it? Probably the same way he knew she’d gone to prison.

She wore the necklace, along with Gerard’s other gifts, letting the pendant dangle in the valley between her bare breasts.

She left the room and went in search of the dining room. She’d never been to Gerard’s New York penthouse. Their escapade had taken place in Paris following his sister’s design debut in the fashion world and Monty’s theft of a prized ring that had once been worn by Marie Antoinette. Stealing his sister’s jewel and later returning it had been icing on the cake.

Just how many homes did Gerard own and at which one would he store a prized diamond? What if he didn’t have the diamond anymore? What if he’d sold it to the highest bidder already?

If he did have the jewel, she’d find it, steal it.

Taking note of every photo, every custom nook and cranny that might hide a wall safe or a hidden entrance to a secret room, Monty made her way through the apartment and to the dining room.

A table for twenty was set for two. The far side of the room offered nothing but floor to ceiling windows overlooking the New York skyline. Millions of lights beaconed like a blanket of brightly colored jewels. A crackling blaze roared in an eight foot wide fireplace along another wall, casting shadows that danced on the ceiling.

Red wine chilled on the table.

Helping herself, she expertly popped the cork and poured a glass.

For at least the next few days she’d be Gerard’s mistress. He knew how to please a woman in bed and his touch earlier promised that Ian hadn’t ruined her forever.

Excitement curled in her belly at the thought of the pleasure the night would bring. Too long she’d gone without satisfaction.

The prison offered no privacy and she hadn’t been willing to put on a peep show for the all too eager to watch guards. No self release. No sex. Nothing since Ian.

Damn it, she had to stop thinking about him. He didn’t deserve a second thought, yet her heart filled with rage at his betrayal. Her pride demanded revenge. Once she attained her freedom, she’d set Ian up, betray him the way he’d betrayed her. Strip him of that damn arrogance he wore so well.

Noting how tightly she held the crystal goblet, she forcibly relaxed and reminded herself to enjoy being the focus of Gerard’s attention and the freedom that focus provided.

She walked to the window and stared down at the city. So much hustle and bustle, each light representing someone’s life, someone’s world.

It had been too long since she’d experienced the joys of life, of sipping on good wine, dressed in finery, surrounded by every luxury.

“You’re early,” a rich baritone pointed out.

“A few minutes. I’ve never been one to dawdle,” she answered, turning to face Gerard. He truly was a handsome man. Tall, slim, refined, with an aristocratic air that reminded her of Pierce Brosnan. He even resembled the actor in his younger, Remington Steele days.

Monty twirled the remainder of her wine, letting it swish around the goblet’s rim, but not spilling a single drop. “I see you found my necklace.”

Monty drank her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. When she finished, he picked up the wine bottle and topped off her glass.

Monty dropped the jewel to rest back in the swell of her breasts and laughed, the sound foreign to her ears. How long since she’d felt the simple joy of laughter? The simple joy of being the object of a man’s desire?

Forget Ian, she reminded herself. Gerard was here, the present, eyeing her as if he was starved and she the main course.

“You know me too well,” she purred. Her awareness of Gerard’s sexuality increased with every tick of the ornate cherry grandfather clock. Memories of his thick shaft between her thighs caused her pelvic muscles to clench. She had fond memories of Gerard and perhaps in another lifetime they could have been more than lovers.

“That I do.” His gaze dropped to where the necklace nestled. “Before the night ends, I shall know you even better.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she reminded, leaning close enough to breathe in his expensive scent. Spicy, clean, manly. Nothing like the rank smells of the prison. She tired of games. She wanted him. He wanted her. There was no need for this set seduction.

“My memory needs refreshed.”

She lowered her lashes, giving him a sultry look. “Does that mean you didn’t find our night memorable?”

He captured her chin between his fingers. His eyes flashed with unbridled lust. “I offered to make you my woman. Even after you foolishly refused me, I insured your freedom. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” She set down her glass on the table and slid her palms over the Armani jacket covering his arms. His muscles flexed beneath her touch, tingled her senses, drawing her nearer. The fact Gerard wanted her stroked the need in her to be wanted, the part that was raw from Ian so easily tossing her aside when she’d given him something she’d never given any man—her heart.

Damn Ian. Damn him. But no more did he possess her. Her time in prison locked away every good emotion she’d ever felt for the bastard. She smiled at Gerard, as grateful for the real desire coursing through her as she was for her freedom. Gerard rekindled what she’d feared Ian had destroyed.

She wet her lips. “I think I’m really not so hungry.”

“A shame,” he tweaked her lower lip with his thumb, “when I’m so famished need makes me weak.”

Monty closed the distance between their mouths, and eyes locked with his, she kissed him. Soft, slow, as if she had all the time in the world and her body didn’t ache with pent-up sexual desire. Which it did. Gerard oozed power, wealth, and a manly smoothness that drew women to him. Drew her to him. Now, as in the past.

Although not willing to tie herself to a man who wouldn’t have understood her call to adventure, never had she been immune to his uber sexuality. At the moment, strength failed her and she understood the weakness he spoke of. She felt weak, too. Weak to the carnal needs of her body.

His hands stroked over her sensitized flesh. Caressing her tense body and causing a warm relaxation to settle into her muscles. Heat spread with the intensity of a wild fire, causing everything in his path to catch aflame.

“Weak is not a word many associate with the great Gerard Kincaid,” she rasped against his lips. After Ian’s betrayal, a man admitting to being weak to her feminine prowess swelled her battered ego, her labia.

He cupped her bottom, pulling her flush to his sinewy frame, pressing the hard length of his cock into her. “Let’s see word doesn’t get out. My enemies would think nothing of using you against me.”

Perhaps word already had gotten out and his enemies were using her against him, she thought, but then he kissed her and all thought dissipated. Hard, demanding, deep, his mouth dragged a soft moan from her. His lips sought hers with the passion that had driven him to arrange for her prison release, the passion they’d shared that one night, the passion that filled Monty with her own passion.