Naked Shorts (2 page)

Olivia had no problem breaking into the property despite the security system. She”d learned from the best: good old Dad. Picking a lock was a task she”d mastered at the age of twelve, and disabling a security system had followed five years later.

One of her specialties became opening safes. She was old school. Anybody could open a safe with dynamite, but to tease the lock open the same way one teased a lover? Now that was finesse.

By the tender age of eighteen she was a pro. Now, at twenty-nine she was close to retirement.

Olivia had even squeezed in four years at the University to obtain a degree in Art History, something she found came in handy when negotiating her fee with the various art enthusiasts who engaged her services.

Her decision to become an art thief had not been a conscious one. She”d simply followed in her father”s footsteps and joined the family business. Just like her college friends joined their family”s accounting firms or clothing stores.

She was good, she was efficient, and she was a professional. Her real life and all the fun would start once she retired from her profession. In the meantime her spotty sex life didn”t bother her too much. What were vibrators for? At least they didn”t ask her what she was up to when she left the house at night all dressed in black with a small backpack of tools slung onto her back.

Olivia”s eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness in the house. She knew she was alone. A glance at the clock told her that Marcus would be arriving at the restaurant right now. He”d wait for her. All men did. At least for fifteen minutes, but most likely longer. By the time he was back at the house, she would be gone and so would the Vestal armband.

Marcus cursed the driver of the black cab as it almost ran him over when it swung around the corner of the narrow street. He lost his footing on the slippery street and fell against a heap of old household items somebody had left on the sidewalk for the rubbish collector.

Perfect, now his immaculate outfit was dirty. As he lifted himself from his undignified position on the sidewalk, he heard a rip that sounded suspiciously like a piece of cloth tearing.

He turned his head.

“Bloody hell!”

That was just what he needed. With ten minutes to spare to meet his hot date, his trousers had ripped along his thigh. A wire sticking out from a discarded lamp was the culprit.

Now what?

Looking the way he did, there was no way he”d show up at Claridge”s, particularly knowing that the lovely Olivia was there waiting for him. It would be too embarrassing. If he hurried, he could make it home, change in a minute or two and be at the restaurant only fifteen minutes after their agreed time.

Marcus pulled out his cell, and while he rushed through the streets of Mayfair hit the number for the restaurant. He asked the Maitre d” to inform the lady of his delay and instructed him to serve her the best champagne.

As soon as he entered through his front door, he ran up the stairs toward his bedroom. He stopped in his tracks in the hallway.

Something was different. Something was missing. It was too quiet. He instantly realized that what was missing was the familiar beeps reminding him to turn off the alarm system. Had he forgotten to set it before he”d left the house? Impossible. He was almost anal about setting his alarm whenever he left.

As he stood wondering, he noticed a faint light travelling underneath the door of his office into the hallway. Had he forgotten to turn his desk light off? He wasn”t the forgetful type.

The ray of light shifted. Somebody was in his office!

A burglar!

The office was where he kept some of his priceless artifacts, including the one he”d acquired at the auction the night before. He was having a display case custom built for it, and in the meantime it rested in his safe.

Marcus crouched down to look through the keyhole. A chair partially obstructed his view, but he could clearly make out a figure kneeling in front of his safe. Hands in black leather gloves turned the dial, and it appeared the person was pressing a stethoscope to the door of the safe to listen to the interior workings of the lock.

He took off his shoes and, as quietly as he could, he snuck to his bedroom and opened the top drawer of his nightstand. The revolver felt cool in his hand. He wasn”t a particularly good shot.

In fact, he had only shot the gun once or twice when he”d purchased it. It wasn”t loaded, but it would do as a deterrent. The ammunition was locked in a cabinet in his office and therefore out of reach.

After a few deep breaths he turned the knob to the office and swung the door open, before pointing the gun at the intruder who instantly jumped to his feet.

Correction: to her feet!

Clearly she hadn”t planned on meeting him at the restaurant. The little temptress had simply wanted him out of the way.

Dressed in figure hugging black trousers, a tight black turtleneck and black boots, it was doubtful if the Maitre d” at Claridge”s would have admitted her to the elegant dining room.

“Olivia,” he greeted her. “What a surprise.”

It was the understatement of the century.

Her eyes searched for an escape route, but there was none. The window behind her had bars on the outside, and he blocked the door, the revolver still pointing at her.

“And what is it that you”re after, since it”s obviously not my charming company?” Marcus asked casually.

Her eyes grazed over his body, briefly resting on his torn trousers. He followed her look.

“Lucky accident, otherwise I”d be sitting in the restaurant now, waiting for you in vain.”

Olivia finally spoke. “Lucky for you, I guess.”

She knew she was caught, but she didn”t know what he would do. Neither did he. Should he call the police? Have her arrested? Clearly, she was a burglar. A cunning one at that. She should be punished.

Marcus let his eyes roam over her body. He knew already that she had amazing legs. She”d shown them off to him the night before - and not by accident, he knew that now. But the tight fitting clothes she wore now accentuated her curves even more.

He”d bet a hundred quid that she didn”t wear a bra under that snug sweater of hers.

“Ever been to prison?”

He saw a quick flash of fear in her eyes.

“I”ve never gotten caught.” Her voice was silky and just as tempting as he”d found it the night before.

“There”s always a first. I never caught a thief before either. Especially not such a hot one.”

Color rose slowly to her cheeks. Good. He liked her reaction. At least he didn”t leave her cold.

“So you caught me. What now?”

He smiled. Olivia was trying to take the offensive.

“You”ll have to deal with the consequences, I”m afraid.”

Sure, there”d be consequences. He”d have to punish her. And he suddenly knew exactly how.

He took a couple of steps toward her, and instinctively she backed away. Her eyes went to the revolver in his hand. He shrugged and placed it onto his desk, then continued his approach until he stood only a foot from her.

She stared at him, then back at the gun on the desk. Was she trying to figure out if she could get past him and reach for it? Turn the tables on him?

Slowly he shook his head. “Olivia, Olivia,” he said as if talking to a naughty child.

Naughty, yes. A child, no.

How naughty was exactly what he wanted to find out.

“We won”t need a gun, and we won”t need the police. I think we can take care of this between us.”

She raised an eyebrow. “How?”

He gazed at her luscious mouth.

“A trade.”

“Name your price. I”ve put sufficient money aside for unfortunate events like these.”

Was she thinking she could buy her way out of the situation? Yes, he”d let her pay, but English pounds weren”t his currency of choice. “I”m not talking cold hard cash.”

“A transfer to an offshore account then to avoid the taxman?” She offered with a knowing smile.

His head came closer as his voice turned to a whisper.

“You know what I want.” His hand came up to stroke her jaw, before his fingers traced along her neck. She shivered.

“You must be joking.” Finally she was catching on to his way of thinking.

“I don”t have a sense of humor when it comes to my prized possessions.”

Olivia swallowed hard. “What trade are you offering?”

He looked straight into her eyes. “Prison or my bed. The choice is yours.”

His bed!

Of course Olivia had suspected what he wanted. She was a woman after all, but to hear his proposal roll over his lips so smoothly made her insides tremble. She”d seen that look before. It was the same he”d given her in the foyer of the auction house.

Having a man like Marcus lust after her, desire her, want her in his bed, was a powerful turn on, despite the precarious situation she found herself in. She could feel his breath on her face, the searing heat of his body bringing her cells to a fever pitch. His fingers on her neck burned like molten lava.

She couldn”t think clearly with him standing so close to her. She felt her nipples harden at the thought of his proposal. A night with a sexy man in exchange for being let off the hook? Why not take it?

But what if it was a trick?

“What guarantee do I have that you won”t go to the police anyway?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Only my word.”

She didn”t know him. Yes, she”d done her research on him, but it didn”t mean anything. She didn”t know whether his word was good or not.

She felt him move closer, his thighs brushing against hers. She inhaled sharply.

“Maybe we should seal our deal with a kiss?” Marcus suggested.

Olivia gave him a panicked look. “I haven”t accepted it.”

“Maybe not consciously, but your body …” He let his eyes sweep over her breasts, focusing on the hardened nipples that pressed through her sweater.

Darn traitors!

To emphasize his point, his hand trailed down to one of the peaks and touched it, swirling his finger around it then lightly taking the little bud between his thumb and index finger, squeezing gently.

A stifled moan escaped her lips. This man would be her undoing. She felt like melting into his touch. Would it be too forward if she took his hand and guided it under her sweater to touch her naked skin? How long had it been since a man had touched her this intimately?

God, what was she thinking?

“What guarantee do I have?” she heard herself say. Was she crazy even thinking about accepting his offer? Was it any surprise that she couldn”t think clearly with his masculine scent drugging her?

“I”m going to kiss you, and if you don”t believe me after that …” He didn”t finish his sentence. Instead his mouth moved closer. His lips touched hers, very gently at first as if he was testing if she”d push him away. She had no intention of doing so. She had wanted to feel his lips on hers the moment she”d seen him in the auction hall.

His hand rested on her breast while the other one snaked around her shoulder and moved to the back of her neck, caressing her and sending goose bumps down her spine. Instinctively she parted her lips and felt his tongue dart into her mouth.

Her resistance, if she ever had any, vanished instantly. Unable to resist his tender kiss, she sought out his tongue and twined with him, allowing him deeper access to her mouth while she put her arms around his neck.

Olivia felt her body in tumult as the heat in it rose. Her insides seemed to melt into liquid and trickled to her core, pooling between her legs. Unbearable need flared up in her. The need to feel this man, have him inside of her. As she kissed him back more fiercely and ran her hand through his thick hair, a guttural moan came from his mouth.

He pulled himself away from her. His eyes were dark and filled with desire. Out of control desire. Perfect. She could work with that.

“Prison or my bed? I need an answer now,” Marcus insisted.

“Your bed,” she answered huskily and pulled him back to her, sinking her lips onto his.

Good. Now if her traitorous body would only listen to her brain to work out a scheme of how to get her out of this mess, she”d feel even better. Or not.

Damn, the man was a fabulous kisser. And here she thought
she
was taking charge. No. He immediately hijacked her kiss and took over. So much for the control she thought she”d have over the situation.

As he pressed her against him, all her soft places molded into his hard ones. It was impossible not to notice his erection rubbing against her stomach. His hand went down her back, and his fingers splayed on her ass pulling her closer into him.

Marcus released her lips for a moment. “I would have bought you dinner before taking you to bed, but I”m afraid we”ve lost our reservation by now.”

Arrogant wanker!

Had he really thought just buying her dinner would get him laid? She was about to tell him what she thought of his comment when he smothered her mouth with another passionate kiss.

Damn him! Unfortunately it felt way too good to stop.

His tongue entered her mouth as if he was planning to move in. Okay, so maybe she”d invited him. But, hell, he sure wasn”t shy about making himself at home, while at the same time he ground his loins against her, making her all too aware of what he needed.

“Oh, yes!” she heard a female voice gasp and realized it was her own.

Olivia felt his hand tunneling under her sweater, running his fingers over her heated flesh until he found her breast and cupped it.

“You feel so good,” Marcus murmured against her lips.

He pushed up her sweater above her breasts and she could feel the suddenly cooler air against her skin saving her from burning up, but not for long. Seconds later he sank his lips onto her skin. His tongue laved at the already erect nipple before his lips circled it and sucked it into his mouth.

Olivia threw her head back and let him touch her. Let him? Hell, she urged him on to give her more. His tongue, his lips, his mouth, they worked in beautiful concert on her breasts, alternatively licking, biting and sucking until she could barely breathe.