by Michele Hauf
He'd love to pick her brain, but suspected she'd be tight with that information.
Unless he started by offering up details on some of his jobs?
Maybe. His current job was to locate the missing diamond. And then…recruit Josephine Devereaux into the Elite Crimes Unit. Voluntarily. And all without getting emotionally involved.
But if his plan went the way he hoped, tapping into his emotions might be necessary.
It felt like five minutes had passed. Xavier stood, hoisted Josephine's body over his shoulder, and slipped out the back door. The taxi cab pulled up, and he hopped inside. Another comment about his date starting early. He ignored it and gave the driver an address.
Three minutes later, they reached Josephine’s apartment building. Before getting out, Xavier scanned the neighborhood. It was a classic middle-class area, featuring older houses and apartment complexes. The sidewalks sported a few cracks and pitiful patches of marigolds, but the streets were clean and well lit. Best of all, they hadn’t been followed. Xavier paid the cabbie and carried Josephine out.
Which unit did she live in? He scanned the front of the three-story building. She wouldn’t go for the first floor. Too easy for intruders to enter. A second floor left too many escape issues. Probably a corner apartment, and something close to roof access.
“Ah.” There on the far left side, in a third-floor window, stretched a familiar cat. “Thank you, Chloe.”
Xavier strode inside the building foyer.
There was something about that cat. The theft of her cat had lured Josephine into leaving her freedom behind and jumping back into the life. It didn’t make sense. It was just a cat.
He took the stairs and set Josephine down while he picked the lock. Standard apartment security. It took two seconds to rake the pins, and he was in. Whispering a thanks to Chloe, he wandered through the dark living room in search of the bedroom.
* * * *
“Drive!” Victor shouted at the driver as he noted the silver sedan behind them had taken the same two turns.
He reached into his suit pocket and palmed the Ruger. They drove through a residential area, so he would not use the gun unless forced. No need to attract unnecessary attention.
He'd managed to pick up the female thief's trail after missing her in Paris. He knew a woman behind the ticket desk at Charles de Gaulle, and for a certain payment she had given him flight details. He'd taken the next flight to Berlin and tracked the thief's arrival with relative ease. A woman with a cat? Yes, the man at the taxi station recalled her. Very beautiful. He looked up the drop off and had only been able to give Victor the neighborhood.
More than enough information. For the past two days, he'd staked out the area. And now that he'd found her and tranqued her, someone had managed to whisk her out of his sight. It had to be the other thief. Though Victor had not gotten a good look at him, he’d seen a glimpse. And he never forgot a face. He'd lost them in the crowd outside a nightclub, and even though he’d gotten out and asked if anyone had seen a man dragging around an unconscious woman, he hadn’t gotten answers.
A bullet pierced the back tire, setting them to a swerve.
“Whoa,” the driver shouted. “What the hell?”
“Don’t stop!” Victor shouted. If someone was after him, he would not go down easy. In fact, he intended to be the last man standing.
Victor checked the gun magazine, then snapped it back in place and stuck his head out the window. His hand had been forced. Time to show them who they were dealing with.
* * * *
Josephine awoke with a start. She couldn’t remember falling asleep. The uncomfortable thickness of a crisp new sheet glided under her stretching fingers. The soapy scent from the cheap shampoo she'd grabbed at the airport carried in through the open doorway from the bathroom. Hadn’t she just been out grocery shopping?
She blinked at the daylight beaming through the window. She had slept through the night, but how? How had she made it home from the grocery store? Where was her almond milk?
Her mouth was dry, and tasted metallic. “Ugg.”
“Water?”
Startled upright at sound of the male voice right above her, she pulled the sheet up and stared into Xavier Lambert’s smirking green gaze. Hazel? No, definitely green. With a touch of hazel. She could stare into those eyes for days…
Wait.
“What the hell?”
“I thought you’d be thirsty.” He held the glass of water to her. “It’s almost noon.”
“What are you doing in my home? How—where?” She eased her palm over the sore spot at the back of her neck. A memory of last night flashed before her eyes. She had been hurrying away from Xavier on the sidewalk in front of a couple of nightclubs, and then— “Did you drug me?”
“I did not.” He took her hand and placed the glass in it, then stepped back and leaned an elbow on the cheap pine dresser that had come with the place. “Don’t you remember? You were tranqued.”
“As I was walking? But you were the only one behind me.”
“I was keeping an eye on the black SUV that had followed you to the grocery store.”
She gaped at him. What kind of lies had he concocted to cover the fact that he had been following her?
“I’ve got eggs and toast in the kitchen.” He pointed to her head. “You brush your hair and teeth, then we’ll talk.”
Then he strolled out like he owned the place.
Josephine scrambled off the bed, prepared to shout after him that he could get the hell out, when she wobbled and caught her palms against the door frame. Whew! Still feeling some aftereffects from—someone had shot her with a tranquilizer? If not Xavier, then who? And for what reason? She didn’t have—well, she did have enemies. But no one knew she’d moved to Berlin.
Except Xavier knew. Which meant anyone else could also know.
“Damn, Dmitri. That is the last time I trust you.”
Leaving the water on the dresser, she made her way across the hallway and into the bathroom. No wonder he'd pointed at her head in disgust. A rat's nest tangled above her left ear. She worked the comb through the disaster, then pressed her palms to the cool porcelain vanity. Still wearing yesterday’s black leggings and plain blue t-shirt, she looked a rumpled mess, but at least her hair was combed. With a wet washcloth, she wiped off the smeared eyeliner, then quickly brushed her teeth.
“He carried me home?” she asked her reflection. “But that would mean…”
Feeling steady now that she’d washed her face and gotten her bearings, Josephine marched down the hallway and into the kitchen. Xavier set a plate of steaming scrambled eggs on the counter, alongside a glass of milk. Chloe sat on one of two bar stools, flashing her a wide-eyed expectation.
She eyed the food. She'd been starving last night. Hence, the trip to the grocery store. Now? She could have eaten it all, if it hadn’t been made by the creep currently drying the frying pan with a dish towel. His domesticity did not impress her. Not at all.
And besides, there was no bacon.
“How did you know where I live? And which apartment was mine? I thought that damned tracker was out of my hair.” She shoved a hand into her hair and sat next to Chloe, who nudged her with her forehead. “Good morning, Chloe. Has this guy been treating you right?”
“Chloe invited me in with a wink from the window while I was standing below on the street wondering which was your place. Thanks, Chloe.” He winked at the cat.
Chloe purred.
And Josephine had had enough of Mr. Charmed and Dangerous.
She grabbed a fork and it took all her resistance not to immediately dig in. The aroma was hitting her was irresistible, a testament to the guy's talents. Was there nothing the man couldn't do? “Get out.”
“We need to talk.”
That's exactly what he'd said to her last night. Before she'd passed out and…how the hell had he gotten her home if some SUV had been following t
hem? Best she didn't know. If anything untoward had happened—no, she actually trusted that he'd gotten her here safely and with little effort.
“We've talked,” she said as she angrily stabbed at the fluffy eggs. “We've stolen diamonds together. We've kissed. And apparently you've tossed me over your shoulder like a caveman and moved me about as you saw fit. I think we've done enough sharing. For ever.”
She scooped in some steaming eggs and groaned at the savory deliciousness.
“We'll eat.” He swung around the side of the counter and, nudging Chloe to jump up onto the counter, he claimed the stool and started to eat. “Then we'll get to business. I kept watch through the night. Didn't see the SUV again. My people took care of them. But somehow they found you at the grocery store. While you're eating, you might want to think about who would be after you with a tranquilizer dart.”
Josephine dropped the fork onto the plate. “No one!”
Both Chloe and Xavier stared wide-eyed at her. The mutinous feline had taken up The Fox's side? Figured.
Xavier smirked, huffed out a little chuckle, then went back to eating.
Josephine decided to check her anger. Cool and calm won the game. But she was playing against the master of cool and calm. Was it time to play her ace, or should she hold it a bit longer?
Chapter 18
Josephine shoved the dishes into the dishwasher. She had only two place settings. They'd been in the cupboard when she moved in.
Xavier paced before the window that overlooked the back courtyard with the rusted swing set, hand to his jaw in thought.
She wanted to push him out the door and run off in the opposite direction.
She wanted to sit down and talk to him. To learn all the things she had wondered about over the years. How had he gotten started? Why did he always stop for coffee before a heist? How had he never known she followed him? Wasn't he curious how she had done so?
She wanted to get into his mind in a way she'd never been able to. To touch him soul-deep.
To taste his kiss again.
The clink of glasses startled her out of what was quickly becoming a daydream. She let her mind wander too often. It was helpful when plotting a heist. Not so much when she needed to stay on her toes.
Folding the dish towel and tossing it over the edge of the sink, she glanced at Chloe, who'd sat on the counter watching her. “You are on my list,” she said sternly. “You let him in.”
Xavier's pompous chuckle was steeped with entitlement. He was a man of privilege and class. She would not be intimidated by his superior attitude. Or by the fact that he'd just cooked her the most simple, yet tasty breakfast she'd eaten since—well, since that bacon.
Her frustration boiled over. Josephine marched up to the calm, cocky bastard and blurted out, “Why are you here?”
“In truth? For this.”
His hand slid up the side of her neck and he grasped her head firmly. She saw the kiss coming, and pressed her palms to his chest to push him away, but he did not relent. The kiss landed like an arrow to the target, a deadly aim meant to claim and master. And, oh, it did.
Of all the men who had ever kissed her, this one stood above and beyond. For he did not take so much as share the heat and want that shimmered through her veins as his mouth sought to couple with hers and his tongue dashed her teeth. He didn't demand; he led. He didn't suggest; he mastered.
The caress of his tongue against hers felt like a dance she'd always dreamed of attending, but never had the right gown or shoes. No dashing away at midnight for her. This prince was hers, and she intended to entertain the fantasy of what could come next.
“We need to take care of some things between us before we talk,” he murmured beside her ear. His hand slid down her arm and slipped around to curve over her derriere. “Things that don't involve talking. I know you want this, Josephine. I want this.”
“I…” She couldn't make herself say “don't.” Because she did. She wanted the gown and the shoes, and for the handsome prince to sweep her off her feet.
“Can we agree to this?” he asked.
“You mean sex?”
He nuzzled a kiss against her neck and she tilted her head, opening herself to him, feeling his hot tongue laving down her skin and to her collarbone. He grew insistent, grasping her chin and meeting her eyes with his solid, steady gaze. That same gaze that had seen the inside of many an impenetrable safe and had reflected the dazzle of millions of dollars of gemstones.
“Yes,” she gasped, speaking against that stubborn angel on her shoulder who wished to muck up this good time. Yes, yes, and yes.
She shoved him to the wall and pushed down the arms of his suit coat, and he shook his arms until it landed in a puddle around his heels.
Before he lifted her t-shirt, Xavier glanced aside. “Don't look, Chloe.”
As he peeled off her shirt to reveal her bare breasts, Josephine sucked in a breath. It was one of those breaths she always took before she stepped forward. Into the heist. That one last moment to change her mind before she jumped in and assumed the risk of losing it all.
And in that breath she surrendered to something she had wanted far too long.
Xavier lifted her and carried her to the back of the couch, where he set her down. She sat high enough that he hadn't to bow far to lash his tongue across her tight nipple. Arching her back, Josephine encouraged his explorations, from tongue twirls and slickened fingers about her nipples, to tight suckling that drew up a tingling ache in her core.
Josephine curled her fingers into his hair and pulled him down, urging his hot, wet ministrations. She squeezed her legs around his hips, which set him off-balance and toppled her backward. They fell onto the cushions, tangled up in each other. As he landed above her, he thumbed both nipples and moved up for another deep, lingering kiss. He tasted like eggs and toast and…success.
She finally had The Fox where she wanted him. Above her. Kissing her. And oh, but that was not a pistol in his pocket pressed against her thigh.
Unbuttoning his shirt, she pushed it back and over his shoulders, but the sleeves tugged on his biceps. Without breaking the kiss, Xavier shrugged it off and tossed it aside. His knee landed between her legs and nudged against her mons. One more nudge and…yes. Josephine moaned as he connected with her aching clit and a shock of delicious want echoed through her system.
His kisses moved down to her jaw and along her neck. Every millimeter of her skin felt him, even where he did not touch her. A quiet-but-insistent fire had ignited. Could he feel the burn as he skimmed her skin with his mouth?
“I had thought when we met again—if that were to ever happen—which I doubted…” he said, pressing another kiss to the top of her breast, “…that you would put up a fight. Am I winning this fight or losing it?”
“How 'bout we call it a draw?” She tried to unzip his fly, but he moved out of her grasp, so instead she raked her fingers up his rigid abs and tweaked his nipples.
He laughed a little, and it ended with a desirous moan as he met her gaze. His hand slid to her leggings, and he shoved them down, exposing her skin to the rough texture of his pants and then…the hot, hard landscape of his lower abdomen as he lay on top of her and again paid slow, leisurely attention to her breasts with licks and nips and the occasional pinch from his fingers.
Josephine sighed and moaned. “Take off your pants. I need you inside me. Now. Come on, X.”
His fingers worked at his fly. “X?”
“Got a problem with it?” The heavy weight of his erection landed on her thigh. “Oh, yes.”
Chloe jumped to the back of the couch, looked them over, then sprung back to the floor and fled.
“I did warn her,” he said as he kicked off his pants and leaned over her. With a tempting glide of his penis over her mons, he met her gaze with a teasing, defiant glint. “You ever let a thief crack your safe?”
“That's a cheesy come-on. But effective. You think you got w
hat it takes to penetrate the asset?”
His index finger glided over her folds and found its mark on her wet, swollen clit. Josephine moaned and nodded. “Yes, you do have what it takes.”
And with that, he entered her slowly. He took his time, his eyes searching hers and smiling at her reactions. The thickness of him filled her. His heat branded her. His insistent and suddenly forceful hilting pleased her. He pumped slowly and then more rapidly, and always his finger remained at her clit, slicking and pressing and gliding across it to lure her toward the ultimate high.
Good boy, for knowing that extra detail was a necessity to get her off. Josephine stopped thinking and let her body succumb.
A trace of spice mingled with his musky salt sex. The combination was deliriously intoxicating. And when she opened her mouth to gasp, one of his fingers traced her lower lip. She sucked it in deeply as his cock pierced her just as deeply.
Xavier swore, then slammed his hips against hers. His body tremored above her. And with one last trace of his finger over her clit, Josephine, too, surrendered to the climax.
* * * *
On the way to the bedroom, Xavier stopped in the hall because Josephine put her hands to the wall and glanced over her shoulder at him. The fine hairs around her face were wet and her eyes gleamed. Her body was sleek and tight, her skin hot from their tangle on the couch.
And he foresaw no stopping any time soon.
Wrapping an arm about her chest to clasp her nipple between thumb and forefinger, he moved up behind her and dipped his head against her shoulder, kissing her neck right…there, because she squirmed so sweetly. She wiggled her ass against his cock, which was hard again even after coming five minutes earlier on the couch. He ground himself against her, fitting himself between her peach-cleft bottom. Cupping her breasts, he moved his mouth down to kiss the back of her neck over the soft hair that spilled to the center.
