Steal Me (Short Story)
Page 5
Marcus offered his hand to lead her upstairs, and she took it. When they were halfway up the stairs, the door bell rang. She stopped.
“Ignore it,” he said and kept walking.
“What if it’s important?”
The burning desire in his eyes spoke volumes. “You are important.”
The door bell rang again. This time it was accompanied by several loud knocks and an insistent male voice. “Mr. Moncrieff? Simon Hammerlein from Christie’s. Mr. Moncrieff?”
A surprised look washed over Marcus’s face. “I’d better see what he wants.”
When Marcus opened the door, Olivia recognized the man who stood outside. She’d seen him at the auction house and knew he was one of the administrators. Next to him stood a man she’d never met.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Moncrieff. But there has been a problem. Hmm . . . ” He appeared overly nervous.
“This is Inspector Chadwick from Scotland Yard.”
The inspector showed his identification.
Olivia’s heart stopped. Had he called the police on her nevertheless? Disappointment swept over her. So his word wasn’t worth anything after all.
“Maybe we could have a word in private?”
“Concerning?” Marcus’s voice suddenly sounded tight.
“The artifact you purchased at the auction. There has been a theft.”
Marcus shot a glance over his shoulder to where Olivia stood at the bottom of the stairs, the armband in her hand, willing her to remain calm.
“There’s been no theft. As you can see, my girlfriend is holding it.”
The two men looked past him and nodded as they saw her with the artifact in the palm of her hand. She tried to steady her shaking hands, hoping they couldn’t see her fear.
“Unfortunately, the theft occurred before the auction,” the inspector explained pointedly. “This one is a forgery.”
Marcus motioned the two men to come in. They entered the foyer.
“A forgery?” Olivia echoed and stepped toward them.
Marcus put his arm around her waist. His touch was reassuring, as was the knowledge that he was as surprised about the police showing up at his door as she was.
“Would you care to elaborate?” Marcus asked the inspector.
“We’ve apprehended an employee of the auction house,” Inspector Chadwick explained as Mr. Hammerlein cringed. “The employee was trying to smuggle the item out of the country, no doubt to sell it to a foreign collector.”
“What makes you so sure that his is the real one, and this is the forgery?”
Marcus’s hand around Olivia’s waist held her closer to him as if he felt her unease around the policeman. His thumb stroked her tenderly.
“He confessed, and we found the workshop where he made the replica. We’ll of course have to test both items to make sure. Therefore, we’ll have to confiscate the artifact for now.”
“Baby, why don’t you give the armband to the inspector?”
She was unable to move. Marcus took the armband from her hands and passed it to the inspector.
“Very sorry, Madam, Sir,” Mr. Hammerlein apologized. “The auction house will of course make sure you receive the real armband once the investigation is closed. And your money will be put in an interest bearing account for your benefit. May I say, we at Christie’s are shocked and—”
Marcus waved him off. “I’m sure you’ll sort it out.”
Then he looked at Olivia, and a big smile spread over his face. He seemed completely unfazed about the revelation that he’d purchased a forgery.
“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us. My girlfriend and I have plans . . . ”
The way he said girlfriend and plans in one sentence coupled with the way his eyes devoured her told her exactly what he wanted.
“Of course,” Hammerlein stammered.
After an exchange of business cards and a receipt for the fake armband, they were alone.
Gone was the armband, replaced by the knowledge that there was no legend or magic attached to the forgery.
It was worse than she’d thought. If there was no magic, no legend, then what had compelled her to come back to Marcus, the man she’d robbed? Whatever it was, she had no intention of finding out.
“I’ve got to leave,” Olivia burst out and made for the door, pushing past him.
He gripped her arm and pulled her back. “You’re not going anywhere, love.”
Her lips trembled. Shit! “But—”
“Let’s talk.”
“We’ve got nothing to talk about.”
Marcus nudged her until her back met the wall. With his arms braced on either side of her body, he towered over her.
“Oh, we’ve got plenty to talk about. Because from where I stand you still owe me. You broke our deal last night.”
“I did nothing of the sort. We had sex in exchange for you letting me escape the police.”
He shook his head. “That was for your first offense: breaking and entering. But then you left with the artifact. That’s a second offense.”
Her breath hitched.
Slowly a smile formed around his lips. “That’s right. Now you’ve got to pay for stealing the armband.”
“But it was a fake!” she protested. “That guy from Christie’s said so just a minute ago.”
“Yes, but you didn’t know that last night. In any case, it’s still theft.”
Marcus moved closer, pressing his body against hers. His eyes were dark, his lips parted. When his breath fanned over her face, she inhaled, taking in his intoxicating scent. It reminded her of the night she’d spent in his arms. Against her better judgment, she moved her head closer to his, inviting him.
“What do you want this time?” she husked, knowing at the same time that it was stupid to give into him. Yet, she couldn’t resist the erotic pull he exercised.
“Now we’re talking.” His lips brushed lightly over hers, then trailed along her jaw down to her neck.
Her body began to tingle under his touch, her nipples beading involuntarily.
“I enjoyed the way you sucked me last night. I think we’ll start with that . . .”
“Start?” she murmured, her mouth already watering at the thought of licking him again.
“Yes,” he answered and stroked his hand over her torso, cupping her breast. “Since you’ll be in my bed for an entire week this time, I figured we’ll take it slow.”
An entire week? Was he trying to kill her? She’d never survive a week in his bed. He would turn her into a sex addict. “You can’t be serious.”
He pressed his growing erection into her stomach. “Oh, I’m dead serious. Stealing is a serious offense. You didn’t think I would just let you get away with it, did you?” He tsked.
“But a week . . .”
“Isn’t nearly enough punishment, I know.” Marcus grinned. “But considering that you’ll probably not comply with all my wishes anyway, I’m sure I’ll have to add extra punishment for non-compliance as we go along. A week could easily turn into two.”
Olivia suppressed the urge to fan herself. “Or three . . .”
“That’s right. Plus, at any attempt to escape, I’ll automatically add a week.”
“Oh,” she whispered. “I suppose that means I have to submit to everything you want me to do.” Why did that suddenly sound so appealing?
Slowly, she moved her hand to his backside, pressing him closer to her. When a moan escaped him, she smiled inwardly. Maybe he thought he was in charge here, but she could easily turn the tables on him.
“That’s right.”
“This will be fun.”
Marcus chuckled. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Then he sank his lips onto hers and drowned her in a passionate kiss that made her forget everything. For a week she would allow herself to indulge in this crazy affair, but then, she had to get back to reality.
“Oh, and, Olivia?”
“Yes?”
“Try not t
o steal anything else from me.”
Olivia smiled back at him. Now there was an idea for later.
THE END
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Tina Folsom is a member of the Romance Writers of America and writes predominantly paranormal and erotic romance. She lives in Northern California with her husband, where she enjoys great food, changeable weather, as long as it’s warm, and tolerates the occasional earthquake, but never nuts or un-melted cheese.
Her ideas for her books come from her many different careers—CPA/accountant, real estate broker, chef, secretary, au-pair among others—as well as the many different countries she’s lived in, and the people she’s met over the years. And the vampires? Well, chalk them up to her active imagination.
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Copyright Notes for Steal Me
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
License Notes
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
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