Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (23 page)

“
How do you know I'm the
Night Panther
?” I
ask.

“
I don't. Not for sure. Are you saying you aren't?”

I don't answer, but maintain a stoic and unreadable
expression. Inside, I'm just trying to fathom a plan. Some way of
getting out of this. Working through the options I have, trying to
figure out what game he's playing. Because I haven't heard the sound
of a cop car yet, and I get the impression that he's got some other
agenda...

He leans closer into me, peering into my eyes, running
his gaze over the shape of my body.

“
Oh you're the
Night Panther
alright,” he
exhales with eager eyes. “Sleek and cunning as a cat...but
outwitted by a tiger.”

He leans back again, and turns to the bar, before taking
his pistol and standing up again. He saunters over behind it, and
pulls a bottle of whiskey from the back counter, filling two glasses
and returning.

He pushes one glass over to me, and takes a sip of his
own.

“
What do you want with me?” I ask, noting his
obvious enjoyment at toying with me.

“
To strike a deal,” he says casually.

“
What kind of deal?”

“
The kind that will keep you out of jail, as long as
you do what I say.”

His mention of jail has a very real impact on my usually
calm expression. I grimace at the sound of the word and the floods of
memories that it brings to my mind. It's a place I never, ever want
to return to. A place I'd do anything to avoid seeing again.

I reach forward and take a gulp of whiskey, the amber
liquid soothing my beating heart and frazzled nerves.

“
I need you to perform a job for me,” he says, his
eyes loitering on me again, melting into me with a lustful stare.
“But first...there's something else I want from you.”

“
And what's that?”

He takes another sip of whiskey, as if to prolong the
moment.

“
You,” he says simply. “I've fantasized over
meeting the
Night Panther
for some time. And now that I've met
you, well, you more than meet my expectations. Let's just say, you've
further piqued my interest.”

I wait for him to continue, the expression on his face
suggestive of where he's going with this.

“
Tomorrow night, you will return to where you took my
earrings. You will wear a black dress, black make up, black heels.
You will arrive at the gate at precisely 7 PM. And you will,” he
says, lowering his voice, “do exactly what I tell you to do. Is
that clear?”

“
And if I don't?” I ask.

“
You know who I am, and you know just what will happen
if you don't.”

He leans closer to me, a light cologne filling my nose,
and his eyes droop over my lips, plastered in red lipstick as part of
my now discarded disguise.

“
Kristen, I have no intention of sending you to jail.
You're far more use to me out of it. Now, I'll see you tomorrow
evening.”

He stands up, holding his pistol loosely, and speaks one
more thing before leaving me there alone.

“
And make sure you're clean shaven,” he says,
glancing down between my thighs. “I prefer a hairless pussy.”

And with those words lighting a strange fire inside me,
he turns on his heels and walks back out into the cold.

Chapter Four

It's a strange sensation, returning to the scene of the
crime.

Generally, it's a death sentence for any criminal to do
so, and I've always been sure to get as far away as possible after a
major score.

But not this time. It's only two nights since I
infiltrated Sage Dalton's mansion and here I am once again, this time
entering by invite and making my way toward the front gate.

I arrive in a cab, the driver unable to hold his
restraint at seeing the grand gate and estate beyond.

“
Whoa, you live here or just visiting?!” he asks.

“
The latter, fortunately,” I say. “Who'd want to
live in a museum like that?”

The cabbie shrugs.

“
Better than the hovel I live in,” he jokes, before
greedily taking the hefty fare. “Have a good evening Miss, and call
me if you need a ride back to town.”

He passes me a personal card, which I didn't think
cabbies held, and I stow it in my purse, knocking it will see the
first trash can I pass.

He skids off down the road and I approach the gate,
thinking that it was pretty stupid to let the driver go before taking
me closer to the house. Beyond the gate, the driveway leads for a
good quarter mile to the mansion, and I'm already growing bitterly
cold in the fierce breeze.

The guard eyes me closely, and I wonder if he knows I
was the one who got past his watch the other night. In fact, he
probably wasn't on duty then. I'm sure that particular guard will
have been fired already for letting me slip through the net.

Still, he's got a look of suspicion on his face as I
tell him who I am and he waves me through. The gate opens with a
groaning metallic creek, and I begin making my way up the long
tree-lined driveway toward the giant mansion in the distance.

As instructed, it's 7 PM on the dot, and the night is
already dark. Yet still, the main pathway is well lit, the glow of
dozens of lights spilling down on flower beds and statues and
fountains as I pass.

After a brisk five minute walk, I arrive at the main
steps to the mansion, and climb them to the front door. When I ring
the bell, I'm greeted by a woman wearing an apron and a stern
expression.

“
You must be Miss Wright.” She doesn't wait for me
to answer. “Please, follow me.”

She ushers me straight into the house, and I see it for
the first time lit and alive. It seems even more grand when bathed in
the soft glow of a hundred lights, the ceilings high and the walls
carved and covered in art and beautiful furnishings.

Personally, it's not for me. Too archaic and palatial.
Much more than a girl from a humble background could ever get used
to.

But still, I can see the appeal for a man like Sage
Dalton. I think of the sort of parties he could host here. The simple
egotistical pleasure of knowing that you live in the grandest estate
in town. As if it's just one massive game of my dick's bigger than
your dick.

The housekeeper leads me on into a living room. There's
a roaring fire, bookcases on the walls, large sofas dotted around
lush carpets. It's opulent and stately, but feels homely in its own
way.

Sitting in a chair, I see Sage, dressed in a gray suit,
legs crossed over each other. He nurses a glass of scotch, his
fingers lightly tipping it to his lips. He doesn't stand as I enter,
only sits there watching me as the housekeeper announces my arrival
before beating a hasty retreat.

“
Come in, Kristen,” his voice booms from across the
room. “How does the place look to you with the lights on?”

I walk in, maintaining my poise and confidence.

“
It looks how it looks,” I say. “I've never much
cared for such grand spaces.”

Sage laughs, and invites me to sit on a sofa opposite
him. I do, where a glass of scotch already awaits me on a side table.

“
Now tell me, how did you know where to find the
earrings? I take it they were why you came here two nights ago?”

I sit down, sizing up my adversary, and relax as he is
with my scotch in hand.

“
I have my means, Mr Dalton...”

“
Please, call me Sage. By the night's end, we'll be on
a first name basis I can assure you. Might as well get started now.”

“
OK, Sage. I came for the diamond earrings, yes. I had
heard about them a while ago through rumors and hearsay. They were
for your ex wife, were they not?”

“
They were. But she didn't suit them well enough. Or
me. And how about the safe. You knew where it was, and you knew how
to get inside. I must say, I am impressed.”

“
You shouldn't be. Once inside the house, getting the
earrings was the easy part. You really must bolster your security. I
managed to discover the whereabouts of the safe through blueprints.
The code was easy to see by your fingerprints. You just need to look
through the right spectrum, that's all.”

He'd nodding, clearly impressed.

“
I'll take your advice on board, Kristen. I must say,
you're a fascinating character. I'd love to hear about how you got to
this point in life. The
Night Panther.
You're fast becoming a
legend...”

He stands and moves toward me, and refills my glass of
scotch before settling back down.

“
Dinner will be up shortly. I'd like to hear your
story then.”

“
Some things I'd prefer to keep quiet,” I say.

His expression changes, his displeasure obvious.

“
Do you not recall what I told you yesterday morning?
You will do everything I say. And that includes telling me what I
want to know. Don't worry, it's just between me and you. As long as
you do what I want, I'll forget about this whole episode. Fair?”

I nod, knowing it's more than fair. The guy's got me
right where he wants me, and frankly there's little I can do but
concede to his demands.

And I know just where those demands will take us...

Before long, the housekeeper reappears to announce
dinner, and Sage leads me through into a grand dining room where we
sit and eat.

As soon as we've started, he tells me to start
recounting my story.

“
Now, Kristen, I want you hear about your life. I've
never met anyone like you, and that's rare in my world. So please,
enlighten me. Tell me what makes you tick.”

So I tell him, and hold less back than I thought I
might. I talk about my childhood, going from foster family to foster
family. I tell him about my late teenage years, the petty theft and
burglaries I got into and the time I spent in jail.

Somehow, as more alcohol passes my lips, I find myself
telling him more than I ever have anyone. I put it down to the
lowering of my inhibitions through alcohol, but I find it all
strangely cathartic. It's all stuff that I've had bottled up for
years, and it actually feels pretty darn good getting some of it off
my plate.

Soon, I'm asking my own questions of him, and he's
opening up too. His world is nothing like mine, pretty much the
opposite actually. A great upbringing, great family, all the money in
the world. The only thing we have in common, however, is that we're
both now parentless.

“
This house was my parent's place,” he says. “I
didn't buy it myself. But I grew up here, and I know it inside out.”

“
And how did you parents die?” I ask, already having
told him that mine both succumbed separately to drug overdoses before
I was old enough to know what an overdose was.

“
In a plane crash. They were returning from vacation,
but were lost in a storm. The remains were never found.”

“
I'm sorry.”

“
Don't be, Kristen. These things happen. It's life.”

He seems quite callous, although I can tell it's a
front. It's the same armor I wear. In some ways, I feel as though I'm
looking in a mirror at him. At someone so similar, yet so different
to me at the same time. It's a strange sensation.

We eat and drink together for more than two hours, and I
find that I'm actually enjoying the evening. Against all expectation,
I find him as fascinating as he finds me, and I start to grow excited
at the thought of where this night is going to lead.

We dance around each other, two adversaries squaring up
and coming out the other side on equal terms. And then, when he tells
me dinner's over and we're going upstairs, I realize that we're not
equal at all.

That he's the boss. That he's holding all the cards. And
that this night is only just getting started...

Chapter Five

We're in a bedroom on the first floor, colored in
crimson and gold. For the last few minutes, Sage has been watching me
strip, watching as I slip out of my little black dress and show him
everything I have beneath.

His eyes, clouded with alcohol and erotic fervor, stare
at me from across the room, black lights in the shadows against the
wall.

“
Move back to the bed,” he tells me. “It's time to
get started.”

I step backward, my body shaking with an excitement and
a throb of nerves. But it's more anticipation at what's to come, at
the idea of sex with the man. It's been a while since I was
penetrated, since I felt the sting of a man's cock, the touch of his
lips, the groping of his fingers.

Tonight I'll feel them all.

I'm wearing only heels now as I drop down onto the bed
and sit on the edge. In my professional life as a thief, I'm
completely comfortable, completely confident. But here, I'm entering
a world that's been alien to me for some time. A place I used to know
well but have since abandoned.