by Anthology
His gaze swept the occupants of the huge room like a king surveying his domain. Well, it was his building, and he was the owner. But king?
JT snorted. The man was full of himself and could stand to be brought down a peg or two. Perhaps she would accept that challenge some day, but not this night. She had other plans that didn’t involve spending her entire evening making polite chitchat with people who bored her out of her mind. As soon as she could leave with grace, she would.
Turning from Chance, JT merged with the crowd, aiming for the dance floor. As with most events involving the Dallas privileged, the music leaned toward the big-band era with the muted trumpet and saxophone playing soft, flowing tunes that showcased the sway of long skirts and the many ballroom dance lessons the guests had invested in.
One of her father’s friends stopped in front of her. “JT, you look lovely tonight. Would you humor an old man and dance with me?”
Glad for something that didn’t require her to stop and talk to every person in the massive room, JT accepted the offer and floated out on the floor to the beautiful notes of Moonlight Serenade.
“How is your father, JT? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“He and Mother are at their resort in Africa. They should be back for a couple days at the end of this month before they fly off to Chile.”
“How are you faring all alone? Are you finding enough to do to keep you busy?”
No matter that she had long passed the need for a nanny and had been living in her own apartment for the past six years, she endured being treated like a child to be entertained and watched after by her father’s friends. She didn’t mind. She’d long since discovered that she was the only person who could make herself happy and if she didn’t have confidence in her own abilities, no one else would. She smiled politely. “I find enough to keep me busy, thank you.”
They completed the dance in companionable silence, and JT excused herself. No sooner had she left the company of her father’s friend than she turned and ran into a solid wall of black tuxedo and gray cummerbund.
Chance had spotted her soon after he’d entered the ballroom. After making his way through a throng of well-wishers, he finally found her exiting the dance floor. “Ms. Trace, so good of you to come to the grand opening of Chance Tower.” He stared down into eyes a deep shade of violet.
“Oh, cut the crap, Chance. I know you and you know me, you don’t have to put on the air of a high-class billionaire.” Her eyes narrowed. “I know your story.”
He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Ah, JT, I can count on you to bring me back to my humble roots.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She tugged, but he retained control of her hand and swept her out onto the dance floor, executing a perfect Viennese Waltz to Moon River.
JT couldn’t be mad or argue when the man could waltz her heart right out of her chest. She lost herself in his arms as he whirled her in slow, sensuous turns around the floor. When the music came to a halt, she tried to remember why she was annoyed at him, but she couldn’t. All she knew was that she had to get away before she made the mistake of asking him to take her to bed and make love as beautifully as he waltzed.
“Excuse me. I seem to have need of a visit to the powder room, and then I think I might call it a night.”
“Bored already?” He lifted her hand to brush it again with a soft kiss. “You shatter my ego.”
“It must be difficult for a man of your stature to have such a fragile ego.” JT tugged her hand free. “Congratulations on your new building. It’s magnificent. I hope it’s everything you designed it to be.”
His eyes narrowed for a flash and then he was smiling, graciously. “Why thank you, Ms. Trace.”
She hurried away from him, before the lingering traces of the waltz made her forget who she was and what she was about to do.
After JT left, the party seemed flat and boring. JT had a way of bringing the room to life with her quick wit and her talent for seeing through the bullshit of the upper echelons of Dallas society. Chance was a newcomer to the elite. Having achieved billionaire status two years earlier, he and his money had been welcomed into the secret handshake club at the top of the Dallas food chain. He hadn’t wanted the notoriety, but it helped to grease the skids when he wanted a building permit for Chance Towers and when he needed the financial backing to fund the building until he could get it opened and operational.
Now that his dream had become a reality, he could fade back into the obscurity of his Texas ranch and enjoy what he liked best—ranching, riding, and raising horses. And he could spend a little more time with his friends, something he hadn’t done much of since he’d begun the multi-billion-dollar project.
Chance wandered around the ballroom once more, hoping JT had decided to stay after all. Unfortunately, she appeared to have left for good. He knew the party would continue on without him with free finger foods and an open bar. What he wanted was to find a place where he didn’t have to smile incessantly and where he could relax for a couple hours before he headed out of Dallas, back to his ranch.
Taking advantage of his full access to any part of the building, he entered the private elevator that would take him to the one-hundredth-floor penthouse he’d leased to James Spillyard, the billionaire oil tycoon who owned most of the oil wells in the state of Texas and many of those in Oklahoma and who was tapping into Wyoming and North Dakota’s vast reserves. The man had given Chance carte blanche on the design and décor of the penthouse with one stipulation. He wanted a state-of-the-art security system installed that was more robust than Fort Knox or the Federal Gold Reserve.
Chance leaned forward for the retina scan and waved the keycard with the embedded microchip over the chip reader. The elevator doors closed, and the car slid silently up the length of the tower, building up speed until it slowed to stop at its only destination. The doors opened onto a white marble entryway, with fifteen-foot Roman columns.
Before he took another step forward, he once again matched his eye to the retina scanner against the wall and waved the microchipped key card over the reader, disabling the invisible laser light, an early warning device. If someone without approved access to the penthouse attempted to enter the foyer, they would disrupt the light flow and set off a security alarm that alerted the staff on duty in the basement of the building along with the Dallas police department and the FBI.
Spillyard requested Chance install his prized Star of Eternity, the ten-carat blue diamond that cost him a whopping three hundred million dollars, in a bulletproof display case in the middle of his living room. Chance thought the rare diamond would be better kept in a museum or vault, but Spillyard insisted on enjoying his purchase on a daily basis.
Thus the incredibly tight security system. He’d tested the system a number of times before having the diamond brought in by an armored car and an army of security guards and policemen. The entire block had been cordoned off in the middle of the night to facilitate bringing the diamond into the building.
Chance stood at the display case and switched on the internal light. He had to admit the diamond was beautiful, cut in the shape of heart. The multi-faceted gem refracted light in many different directions, sparkling like the brilliant star it was.
Spillyard had yet to move into his penthouse, but everything was in place for him to arrive the following week—down to the most expensive bedding, towels, and bath salts along with a full selection of toiletries any man or woman could possibly desire.
Chance wandered around the penthouse, checking the functionality of the drawers in the kitchen, the electronically operated shades over the floor-to-ceiling windows. When the shades retracted, they completely disappeared into the ceiling, leaving an uninterrupted view of the Dallas night sky.
The bedroom sported a king-size bed in subtle shades of gray and white with a splash of red for drama. It was tastefully decorated in modern, calming colors. He could imagine himself lying in bed with a beautiful wo
man, making love in the subtle lighting well into the early hours of the morning.
The woman that came to mind was the one whose perfume still lingered on his hands and jacket. Chance inhaled again to recapture the sensual scent. He’d enjoyed whirling her around the dance floor for the brief length of the song, but he’d enjoy even more the experience of having her in his arms for the night. JT was intelligent, with a body that could stop a train, and tantalizing violet eyes that seemed to see right through the playboy façade he’d erected around his heart.
He touched a wall sconce on the far wall of the bedroom and a hidden doorway swung open. This was the room he’d had the most fun designing. The room was Spillyard’s naughty secret. Inside was an array of leather-covered devices, slings, straps, and every kind of sex toy one could imagine from a cat-o-nine tails to a miniature jail cell with handcuffs affixed to the wall.
The contents made Chance uncomfortable and hot at the same time. He ran a finger across what appeared to be a leather pommel horse. He’d had the owner of a BDSM dungeon come up with the list of items to order and the contact numbers for where to find them. Some items he’d even had custom made to fit the more upscale nature of the penthouse. Instead of faux leather, he had benches and seats covered in the finest, soft leather.
Until he’d had the request from Spillyard to build the room, he had never set foot inside anything related to a BDSM dungeon. Now he knew more about it and found the lifestyle interesting and oddly titillating.
As he stood in the secret room, the cell phone vibrated against his chest. He dug the phone out of his inside breast pocket and noted it was the security office located in the basement.
He punched the talk button. “What’s wrong?”
“Sir, we have a breach in penthouse security.”
“I’m in the penthouse checking things out.”
“Sir, we understand. We monitored your entry a few minutes ago. Did you forget that the laser lights reset to On after ten minutes of inactivity, unless you actively disable them?”
“I know that and I did not disable them.”
“Did you step through the laser lights and disrupt them?”
“I’m not anywhere near them.”
“Oh, well then, perhaps they are malfunctioning. I’ll send up a team now to check it out.”
“I’m up here; I’ll check and let you know.” Chance ended the call and exited the naughty room, the door closing softly behind him, blending into the wall so completely, a person wouldn’t even know it was there.
He strode through the bedroom, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by the plush wall-to-wall carpeting. When he reached the door leading into the living room, he saw a shadow move through the columns into the far end of the spacious living area.
He tensed, his body on alert. He had nothing to use for a weapon. The best he could do was sneak up on the intruder and subdue him using the element of surprise. Slipping out of his dress shoes, Chance eased out of the bedroom and hugged the wall as he moved toward what was the most likely target of any thief managing to get past his security system.
The Star of Eternity.
His pulse pounding, Chance dropped down behind a sofa and moved closer to the display case, one agonizing inch at a time. At one point he had to leave the concealment of the couch and cross to a loveseat before he was concealed again. As he made the move, he glanced at the floor-to-ceiling windows. With the black of night behind them, the little bit of light inside the penthouse gave it a mirror quality and he could see the intruder, dressed completely in figure-hugging black from head to toe.
The burglar crouched low beside the bulletproof case and held up something to the locking mechanism.
Chance tested that lock so many times he knew it was solid. The thief wouldn’t open it without a case of dynamite.
Holding something in his hand, the bandit waved it over the lock and then lifted the heavy glass box, as if the case hadn’t been locked at all.
Anger replaced trepidation. Chance closed the distance between himself and the thief, grabbed his arm from behind, and pulled it up behind his back. “It’s not nice to take things that don’t belong to you.”
The intruder didn’t respond; instead he stomped on Chance’s foot and used his free arm to jab a sharp elbow into his belly.
Chance grunted and loosened his hold.
The thief made a break for it, racing for the door to the penthouse.
Chance leaped over the back of the couch, tackled the man, slamming him chest-first onto the hard wooden floors.
The body beneath him bucked and twisted and nearly unseated him, but Chance held on and rode him out until the person calmed and lay still. “Who are you, and how in hell did you get into this apartment?”
The body beneath him grunted. “Any burglar who knows what he’s doing would be able to get past that pathetic attempt at security.”
The thief’s voice was higher pitched than Chance had expected, along with having a very narrow waist and the gentle swell of a feminine pair of hips. “What the hell?” He rolled her over and straddled her hips, pinning her hands above her head. She wore a ski mask completely covering her face. Her body was encased in a skin-hugging, black jumpsuit with a long zipper that stretched from her neck all the way down to her crotch.
She rocked from side to side, struggling to free her hands. “Get off me.”
“Not a chance.”
Tensing, she raised her knee and pounded his back.
Chance scooted lower, trapping her thighs beneath him, pinning her legs to the floor. “The security team is on its way up with a Dallas police back up. There is no escape.”
“You have to be joking. I got into this place, I can get out.”
“Not unless I let go.”
She glared from behind the mask. With the lights set low, he couldn’t make out what color her eyes were, but her lips were a soft, rosy pink. Not at all what he would have expected for a thief. They were positively kissable.
Once again she bucked beneath him and almost unseated him. Leaning over to pin her hands to the floor above her head made him practically lay across her body. Every time she bucked, her breasts rubbed against his chest, and the jolt to his groin made him more aware of the delicate position she was in. Having just exited a room where bondage and sex awakened desire, the female beneath him was doing nothing to lessen the hardness of his member.
If he recalled correctly, he’d seen a pair of handcuffs in the secret room. All he had to do was get her from the floor into the room without her knocking him out and making a run for it…with the Star of Eternity.
Mentally, he counted to three, and then he rolled to his feet.
She jumped up as well, taking a step or two backward.
But he was ready. Grabbing her arm, he crouched like a football player and plowed into her gut, forcing her to bend over his shoulder before he straightened.
She kicked and hit his back with her fists, until he wrapped his arms tightly around her thighs and held on.
“Put me down,” she hissed. “I’ll leave. You won’t ever see me again.”
“Sorry, you broke in. How can I be certain you won’t do it again?”
Her body stilled. “I promise.”
“A promise from a thief?” He snorted. “You must think I’m an idiot.”
“Well, now that you mention it.” Again, she pounded his back and pulled at the back of his jacket. “Put me down.”
He strode through the penthouse into the master bedroom. “Be still, damn it.”
“I will as soon as you put me down.”
“Right.”
She went into a frenzy of action.
Holding her legs with one hand, Chance swatted her bottom hard with the other.
“Oh!” she squeaked. “You didn’t just spank me, did you?”
“I did, and I’ll do it again if you can’t be still.”
She drummed his back again.
Her blows caused minimal pain, the paddi
ng of his jacket and shirt cushioning her blows.
Again, he slapped her ass. “I said stop!”
She lay over his shoulder for a moment, unmoving. “That hurt.”
“It will hurt a lot more if I have to pull you out of that jumpsuit and spank your naked ass.”
“You wouldn’t,” she said, her voice less confident.
Chance smiled grimly. “Try me.” He tipped the wall sconce, revealing the secret room, and stepped inside. When the door closed, he turned and hit the code to lock the door.
“What the hell kind of room is this? You’re not going to…you can’t…it’s illegal…” The woman twisted and kicked, hitting his back with new ferocity.
“What’s illegal is breaking and entering.”
She grunted. “I didn’t break anything.”
“But you entered without permission. Once the police get up here, they’ll take you to jail.”
“Let me go, I promise I’ll be good.”
He set her on her feet and stepped back. “I can’t. This isn’t my place. If it was mine, I’d consider releasing you, but I can’t afford to let you leave now that I know you’re after the diamond.”
“I just came in to look at it. I didn’t steal it.”
“Because I stopped you.”
“Still, I didn’t take it.” The thief stepped closer. “Please don’t turn me over to the authorities.” She stopped in front of him and traced a finger along the hard planes of his jaw. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she said, her voice soft and coaxing, like a cat begging to be rubbed.
His cock jerked beneath his zipper. Chance was glad he’d chosen the long tuxedo jacket because it did a better job of hiding his growing erection. The thief couldn’t know the effect her words and the silhouette of her black-encased body was having on him.
