ItTakesaThief
Page 30
“Next time,” he murmured against her lips. “Right now I intend to fuck you senseless. Later, I’ll love you to satiation.”
She made a purring sound low in her throat. It drove him wild. Panting, they stared into each other’s eyes as he positioned his cock between the swollen lips of her pussy, then plunged. She bucked. Their hands moved over each other in frenzied patterns. His cupped her buttocks to bring him into her. Deeper, deeper. Her hands swept down his back, her nails leaving shallow furrows on his skin. Together they rode the madness until they reached the crest. Crying his name, she jumped into ecstasy. Shouting “Tiffany” he followed.
* * * * *
“Damian,” Tiffany said the next day as they settled in their first-class seats and buckled in for takeoff to Madrid. They would meet her father and Damian’s family there. Margreta and Mark had arranged for them to be married at the British embassy. “What do you do when you’re not consulting with Interpol?”
“I want you to know, Tiffany darling, that I have tendered my resignation. Although it was not needed, since I never worked for the organization.”
“But you did…resign?”
“We will not starve, love,” he said. He took her hand and entwined their fingers.
Her breath caught. Enraptured as always by his touch, her heart fluttered. “I never thought we would.” Distracted momentarily, she wondered if they could somehow sneak into the bathroom and join the mile-high lovers’ club. “You can work with me in the shop.”
“I know nothing about designing jewelry, sweet.”
Waggling her left hand, now sporting an emerald and diamond engagement ring, she demurred. “You have exquisite taste in jewelry. That’s what matters. Besides, I can teach you everything you need to know.”
“I…um…shall not have time.” He smiled, a bit sheepishly to her mind. Turning his attention to the hovering flight attendant, he ordered mimosas for two.
“All right, Damian, out with it.” Before he could answer, however, she rushed on. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re a policeman, probably a detective. Homicide. Grisly murders and mayhem and—”
“Something like that,” he muttered, looking relieved when the stewardess appeared with dewy flutes of champagne and orange juice.
“Well, you’ll have to quit that, too, no matter how much you love it. I can’t bear it, Damian. The thought of some crazed murderer coming at you with an axe is more than I can stand.”
“Perhaps,” he said when she stopped to breathe, “you can work with me.”
“Pardon?”
“With your imagination and my—ahem—way with words, we shall make a perfect team.” Leaning across her legs, he ransacked her tote bag. He pulled out the paperback novel she’d bought in the El Dorado bookstore.
“‘José Luis Soria,’” Tiffany read aloud from the back cover, “‘scores yet another bull’s-eye. Fast-paced, taut, this latest tale of international intrigue is Soria’s best.’” Opening the inside back cover, she found herself looking at a picture of Damian Hunter. Solemn, professorial, bespectacled.
“Good Lord, how many names do you have?”
“You know them all, now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Cross my heart,” he said and did.
Chapter Twenty
In the silver glow of a full moon, Damian could see his wife bobbing on the gentle waves of the Mediterranean. He had thought to take her to Cartagena, Spain and love away the memory of that other city with the same name. But now he was glad he had not.
Here, on the Costa del Sol, they could finish the healing process they had begun in the mountains of Colombia. In a few days, or weeks, or months, they would trek from the sea at Málaga into the Sierra mountains of Andalusia. He would renew his bride’s acquaintance with the Moorish grandeur of Granada, reveal to her the craggy mountains and fertile valleys that had called Andalusian explorers to the Sierra Nevada of her own California. Then he would take her home, to Barcelona.
But first, he intended to love his lady in the light of a goddess moon.
As he made his way from the house to the beach, he blessed his parents for lending him this piece of paradise. They had bought the property years before the Costa del Sol became the favorite playground of the international set, years before the influx of foreign investors and high-rise construction. They also had had the foresight and fortitude to resist all offers for the secluded property with its mile of private beach.
Which was why he was not surprised to find Tiffany’s bikini discarded on her towel. He quickly toed off his sandals, shed his swim trunks and raised his head to watch his wife emerge from the sea.
Her hair streamed over her breasts, but her nipples peeked between the ebony strands. Her eyes glowed silver-green, matching the colors of the emerald cabochon, surrounded by diamonds, gold and smaller emeralds, that rested just below her navel.
“Isabella’s Belt,” he murmured, knowing he was seeing it as it was meant to be seen—worn by the most beautiful woman in the world, in the loveliest place on Earth.
“Dios, Tiffany, you did not steal it, did you?”
“Of course not, darling,” she said, her sinuous walk stealing his breath. Reaching him, she wreathed her arms around his neck. Pressing her breasts to his chest, she added, “Nick sent it to me.”
“We are all going to prison,” Damian groaned.
“Relax, darling,” she whispered against his lips while she rubbed her entire body against his. “It’s only a very good copy.”
“Tiffany,” he warned, feeling his brain short-circuit while the rest of his body went on four-alarm alert.
“It’s the fake one Emilio made,” she confessed, her fingers adding to the conflagration that threatened to consume him.
“And still worth a fortune. You have to give it back.”
“I know. And I will.” She unfastened the belt. Placing it in his hands, her eyes blazed with impish glee. “Damn, this is fun.”
“It is?”
“I’ve wanted to say this for years.”
“You have?” An affirmative nod made her curls bounce.
“Hmmm.”
“Well?” he demanded, wishing she would get to the point so he could begin to make love with her.
“You’re under arrest, Damian Hunter y Soria.”
“I am? For what?”
“Possession of stolen property.”
Damian flung the belt away. Scooping Tiffany into his arms, he waded into the warm sea. “Isabella’s Belt?” he asked.
“No, my dearest darling. For stealing my heart.”
“That, Tiffany darling, I will not give back. Not now. Not ever.”
“Oh, good. That means I can keep yours too.”
“Forever and always.”
“Perfect,” she said.
Then neither of them said anything, but let their bodies sing.
In the silvery moonlit sand Isabella’s Belt glowed.
About the Author
Dee believes she was born with a pen in one hand and a writing pad in the other. Determined not to work in an office, this wannabe actress never learned to type well. She still composes with pen and pad, then transcribes her manuscripts onto her computer. Sometimes Dee and her dictation program are best friends; more often they are mortal enemies.
Dee lives in northern California with her inspiration, best friend and husband. She loves to read and, of course, write. Passion’s Four Towers, her first published novel, was nominated for a Psyche Award in 2008. His Virtual Assassin finaled in Passionate Ink’s 2008 Passionate Plume contest.
Dee welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think
We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at Comments@EllorasCave.com.
Also by Dee Brice
Courting Kel
His Virtual Assassin
His Virtu
al Virgin
Passion’s Treasures 1: Kerrie’s Quest for Passion
Passion’s Treasures 2: Passion’s Four Towers
Passion’s Treasures 3: Passion’s Twins
Print books by Dee Brice
Courting Kel
Passion’s Treasures 1: Kerrie’s Quest for Passion
Passion’s Treasures 2: Passion’s Four Towers
Passion’s Treasures 3: Passion’s Twins
Virtually His anthology
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
It Takes a Thief
ISBN 9781419935794
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
It Takes a Thief Copyright © 2012 Dee Brice
Edited by April Chapman
Cover art by Syneca
Photography: romancenovelcovers.com
Electronic book publication June 2012
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.
The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party websites or their content.
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com