Dirty Thief

by Tia Louise

  Shaking it off, I’m about to move to the German ambassador’s reply when my inbox lights up. Dwayne replied so fast, I might be sick.

  My little Ava,

  You have no idea how happy your message has made me. I have longed for you, my beautiful girl, for so many years. You were always the most beautiful one.

  I will be where you ask tomorrow night. All you have to do is tell me when.

  Waiting,

  Daddy Dwayne

  Swallowing the knot of disgust in my throat, I delete the message and empty my virtual trash. I’ll have to find out Rowan’s schedule tomorrow night before I know when I can sneak away. In the meantime, I can’t take the chance of anybody finding this.

  Rising from the desk, I walk over to the window and look out over the sea. The sun is slowly making its way toward the horizon, and we’ll gather for dinner soon.

  My gaze travels northeastward toward the remote pavilion in the woods nestled on the border between Monagasco and Italy. I’d noticed Pointe de la Veille several times on our drives to the orphanage, and on a return trip, I asked Hajib the name. I pulled it up on Google Earth and studied the area. It’s remote and hidden, and it would be the perfect place if something bad were to happen.

  Putting those thoughts away for now, I cross to my computer and open the ambassador’s reply.

  Your royal highness,

  I am honored that you would reach out to me to help with your charitable project. The grand duke visited recently, and he shared with me the extent and limitations of your work.

  I would be happy to facilitate a journey by Suad Hadid’s relative from the refuge in Germany to Monagasco, where she can collect her niece. Please let me know what I can do to help you with this humanitarian endeavor.

  Your servant,

  Dieter Trammel

  Ambassador to Monagasco

  I hear the study door open, and I look up to see my gorgeous husband leaning against the jamb watching me.

  Seeing him there in view of this email, I can’t help my smile. “You’re brilliant!” I hop out of my chair and cross the room to kiss him.

  Strong arms go around me, and he holds me a moment, parting his lips and touching my tongue with his. It sends a little flash of heat through me.

  “I need you on the council,” he says with a grin, and I hug him again. “What brilliant thing did I do to make you so happy?”

  “I just got an email from the German ambassador.” I take Rowan’s hand and pull him behind me to the desk. “I emailed him more than a week ago, and he never replied. I was preparing to make a personal visit when this appeared.”

  My husband quickly scans the message and does a little nod. “Good. I’m glad that’s working out like I’d hoped it would.”

  “That sounds like you were concerned it might not.”

  Large hands are on my back, and he rubs my shoulders. “Working with Reggie can be unpredictable.”

  He moves my hair away from my neck and presses a kiss against my skin. My insides are definitely heating up now. I reach up and cover his hands with mine, leaning against his chest. Being with Rowan has the power to remove all my anxiety.

  “I saw my mother on my way here,” he says softly. A smile is in his voice, and I tilt my head to meet his eyes.

  “How did that go?”

  “As I suspected, she isn’t the least bothered by Cal missing her command dinner tonight.” I exhale a little laugh, but I can tell that isn’t all he’s about to say.

  “And?”

  “And she mentioned how pleased she is we’ve finally decided to present Monagasco with an heir.”

  My hands tighten on top of his. “She got me,” I confess. “We were in the courtyard and she started asking if I were happy here and didn’t I love you and on and on… Are you mad?”

  Warm lips touch the side of my neck again, and I feel him chuckle. “Of course not. I only withheld the information from her for your benefit.”

  “I didn’t tell her we’d been successful.”

  “Smart girl,” he says.

  Turning to face him, I scoot my butt onto the desk beside my laptop. “What time is it?”

  His blue eyes spark, and he slides a palm along my outer thigh. “It’s almost five.”

  “We’ve already christened this room, but I’m okay to do it again.” I do my best kitten face, and he leans forward to kiss me thoroughly.

  My lips are forced apart, and his tongue is in my mouth, finding mine, curling with it, tracing the seam of my lips. He nips my upper lip, then my bottom, and when he pulls back, I’m hot and breathless and ready to go.

  He leans forward, pressing the pad of his thumb against my throbbing mouth. I close my lips over it and give it a little suck, and his navy eyes grow darker.

  “You have no idea how badly I want to bend you over this desk right now.”

  “Show me,” I whisper, and his eyes squeeze shut briefly.

  “I have to go out. It’s related to Cal’s business tonight. We’re helping the police track down the fellow behind these murders.”

  “Are you missing dinner, too?” Now I’m pouty. I’m hot and wet and horny and pouty.

  “I will be at my mother’s dinner, don’t you worry.” He leans forward and kisses me again. “And I hope you’re still observing the no panties rule.”

  “I am.”

  The naughty smile on his lips is enough to set me on fire, and with one last kiss, he goes to the door and leaves me in the study to melt into my chair. I stay there several moments fantasizing about my sexy husband’s body when I decide I should reply to the German ambassador.

  I sit up, placing my fingers on the keys to ask if we can set up a time to meet over the next few days. I offer to bring Suad with me and hit send, immediately forwarding his response to Clare along with the message One at a time. Then I head to my bedroom to prepare for dinner.

  Chapter 23

  Rowan

  Leaving Ava for this meeting is bittersweet. Facing this bastard Vega and forcing him out into the open is an opportunity I welcome, but leaving my beautiful wife when she’s looking at me with those bedroom eyes is pure torture.

  “I’m on my way,” I say into the smart watch Cal convinced me to wear. It transcribes my words into a text that is sent to all members of our team.

  A thump on my wrist, and I see the text from Cal. We’re in position to follow.

  The barricades I ordered around the pedestrian areas have increased the traffic somewhat on the streets, and it takes me a bit longer to reach the seedy motel on the outskirts of the downtown area. Scanning the side streets, I look for a place to park the motorbike I borrowed from André.

  All told, it takes twenty minutes to get from the palace to this place. I’ll allow an equal amount of time to accomplish my mission.

  Walking quickly down the sidewalk, I’m again wearing a hat and sunglasses in an attempt to disguise my appearance. So far, I haven’t noticed paparazzi trailing me.

  The Monte Cristo is a two-story hotel building with an ancient façade and black shutters lining tall, narrow windows. It’s not a bad hotel. It’s just old and in need of updates. Inside, a small crowd is gathered around a narrow, one-room bar. Music is playing loudly, which suits my purposes. I scan the crowded space, and not seeing my mark, I take a seat at a round table.

  “Right on time, your majesty,” Vega’s voice is arrogant, and I wonder if he thinks he’s won somehow. “Can I order you a whiskey?”

  “I’m not staying,” I say, motioning to the chair. “Sit down.”

  The small chair groans under his doughy weight, and he holds a short glass of whiskey under his chin. “Where is it?” he asks.

  Slipping my hand into my pocket, I put the sticky bug on the tip of my finger. I’ll reach across and leave it on his cuff. Like picking up a burr in a field, Freddie had said.

  Vega’s eyes go to my hand, and he waits. “You have it in your pocket?”

  “Yes,” I say, palming the other ob
ject in my coat.

  Lifting out my hand, I hold it straight over the table in his direction. Vega does a little grunt and reaches out to meet my hand. As he does it, I move my thumb, planting the bug on the cuff of his cheap canvas bomber jacket as I pass him the old wallet Ava gave me. Inside is a counterfeit copy of the note she inadvertently stole all those years ago.

  His expression changes, and he opens the wallet with reverence, inspecting the bill. “It’s been so long…”

  Something about his tone, the way he looks at the note in wonder, I can’t resist following a sudden hunch. “Who did it belong to?”

  “I don’t know.” It’s as if he’s forgotten where he is and who I am. “It was in the pocket of her little suitcase.”

  My throat tightens. A fist of anger is in my chest, and I have to grip the table to keep from throwing it aside and grabbing him by the neck.

  “Whose suitcase?” I manage to speak through my fury.

  “One of them… The first one.”

  My jaw grinds. I’m sure my shoulders are hunched, but I have to focus on my purpose here. I have to rile him up so he’ll attempt another crime… not kill him like I want to do.

  “So you’re not just a child abuser, you’re also a thief? You didn’t just steal their innocence, you stole their inheritance as well?”

  That worked. His brow lowers, and he stuffs the wallet in his coat. “I only took what was owed me. I took care of those kids like they was my own. I loved them like they was my own.”

  “Is that how you take care of your own?” I’m doing my best to taunt him. By the change in his speech, it seems to be working. His eyes flash and pink floods his fleshy cheeks.

  “What do you know about it, Mister King?” he spits the words back at me, and I keep it going.

  “I know I don’t have to abuse little girls to make myself feel like a man.”

  His face twists, and he sputters as if searching for a comeback and finding none. Instead he stands from the chair quickly. “You owe me money. This isn’t what we agreed to. I want my money.”

  “You won’t get another cent from me,” I stand, towering over him. “And you’ll never see my wife.”

  I emphasize the word, hoping it will push him over the edge then I turn and walk out of the establishment. Hat back in place, sunglasses on, I only get a block before I hear the swift click of heels on the pavement behind me. Breaking into a sprint, I round the corner and pull the motorbike out of the parking lot, kicking it to life and speeding down the alley before the first flashbulb strobes.

  A tap at my wrist, and I glance down to see a text from Cal. Great work, brother. We’ll take it from here.

  * * *

  Mother sits at the head of the long dining table. I’m seated to her right, and Zelda is two seats down on her left. My eyes are on the empty chair, and I’m torn between wanting to be here and wondering what’s happening outside these walls.

  Zelda seems content to have an empty seat between her and the queen mother.

  It’s a formal dinner, so my mother is dressed in a drab green pantsuit with a lightly sequined top. Zelda wears a filmy, pale-blue dress with spaghetti straps, and her golden hair is swept up in a twist.

  Ava breezes into the room stealing my breath. She’s in a thigh-high cream strapless dress with beads across the part covering her breasts.

  “Is Cal joining us?” she asks.

  “One never knows how plans might change,” Mother says.

  I stand as my wife takes her seat. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Yes,” the queen mother continues. “Thank you all for joining me for dinner.”

  Ava looks around the long table. “Where’s Belle?”

  Zee does a little point toward a door from which a line of servants emerges. Each is carrying salad plates and glasses of wine, which are placed in front of us at once.

  “The princess is having her dinner with Mrs. Pottsworth,” Mother says, lifting her glass. “Let’s have a toast. To the next generation.”

  Zee and I lift our glasses along with my mother, but Ava hesitates. She glances at me, and I hold my expression steady, unsure what she wants to do.

  “I think I’ll just have water tonight,” she says. “I’ve had a little headache all afternoon.”

  “A glass of wine will help your head,” Mother says, and Zelda leans back in her chair as if waiting to see how this is going to play out.

  I know my mother so well. She’ll have all the information she wants in the first twenty-four hours if I don’t step in and save my bride.

  Signaling the waiter standing beside the door, I say, “James, please bring the queen regent a glass of sparkling water.”

  My mother narrows her eyes, and I sample the dark green salad. “This looks delicious, Mother. Are these beets?”

  The look Zelda gives me is open admiration, and I feel like I rose a few points in her book. It’s like winning the fucking Grand Prix, considering how much Zee means to Ava, and when I look over at my wife, she gives me a subtle wink.

  We’re quiet a moment, consuming the first course as my mother regroups. Once the salad plates are removed, the staff carries out sliced lean beef au jus with mashed potatoes and asparagus. Red wine is served to all except Ava.

  “Reggie seems to be doing well on his little tour of our allies,” I say, cutting off my mother’s follow-up dig.

  She in turn directs her barb at me. “He compared it to a fool’s errand when he left.”

  “My uncle is an expert at telling me what my council wants and expects,” I say. “It seemed only fitting he should go.”

  I take a bite of meat. It’s rich and salty in my mouth, and the wine is a perfect accompaniment, earthy with notes of berry.

  “Your uncle has lived through three successful monarchies, Rowan. You might take his advice a bit more seriously.”

  “But the first one shouldn’t count,” Zelda interjects. “I mean, he couldn’t have been more than a little kid, right? Unless he’s a hundred.”

  My mother is momentarily derailed, and I grin into my crystal. In that moment, I feel a slim hand traveling across my thigh. I hold my wine glass still as long fingers glide up and down my hardening cock. The lovely hand disappears when the servers appear at her chair.

  “Are you finished, ma’am?” a woman asks softly.

  “Yes, please,” Ava answers, and I get a brief, but very naughty glance as the servant leaves.

  “I’m finished as well,” I say, lifting my plate. “What’s for dessert, Mum?”

  Once more, my mother is at a loss for words, but this time I couldn’t give a damn. I reach out and cover my wife’s naughty little hand with my larger one.

  “We’re having chocolate soufflé and coffee,” she says, but her eyes linger over our joined hands. “We can have it at once.”

  Heirs trump decorum, I think to myself with a grin.

  Ramekins of airy dark chocolate are placed in front of each of us. Zelda takes the first bite and lets out a loud groan. Ava’s shoulders rise as she laughs, but her laughter turns to a sharp inhale as I slide my hand across her slim thigh.

  Moving higher up her smooth skin, I meet what I want, the bare lips of her pussy. A little noise squeaks from her, and I slide my finger slowly up and down the line before pulling it away. Leaning to the side, I put the finger in my mouth, and her eyes darken.

  “Again,” my mother interrupts our moment by rising from her seat. “Thank you all for joining me for dinner. Zelda, would you escort me to see the princess? Rowan, you should help the queen regent to bed since she isn’t feeling well.”

  Across from us, Zelda’s eyes widen, and in my peripheral, I see my wife’s hand rise to cover her mouth.

  “Goodnight, Mother,” I say, waiting as the two women leave the room before turning to my dirty girl. The door closes, and I catch her chin, looking deep into her ocean eyes. “Are you really not feeling well?”

  “I have a terrible ache deep inside,” she says, reaching o
ut to grasp my arm. I straighten, but she scoots out of her chair onto my lap. “You must take me to bed right away and kiss it better.”

  My brow relaxes, and I lean forward to speak in her ear. “Upstairs. Now.”

  * * *

  Ava is on her back in the center of our king-sized bed. Her dress is tossed up over her breasts, and I’m between her thighs making her moan. I trace my tongue around her hardened clit giving it suck after suck as she threads her fingers in my hair, pulling in time with the jerking of her hips.

  Reaching up, I slip two fingers into her clenching wetness. Slowing things down, I rise onto my knees. Her eyes are hot and dilated as I toss my coat aside and unfasten my tie. I loop it around her wrists, and her lips curve into a smile. Pulling her hands over her head, I attach them to the iron headboard. Standing, I remove my pants and boxer briefs. My erection springs free, and I grasp it, moving my hand over the tip as I gaze on my beautiful wife.

  She’s lying on the bed, her dress still up around her breasts so I can see all of her, breathless and bound and watching me.

  “You are so fucking gorgeous,” I say, consuming her with my eyes. I’m aching to be inside her, but the anticipation heightens the release.

  Stepping to the foot of the bed, I slide my hands under her ass and roll her over. Her arms are now crossed, and I pull the zipper of her dress down slowly, feathering kisses along the skin of her back as I go. She exhales a moan.

  “You surprised me tonight at dinner.” My mouth is at the arch of her back, and she moans again. “I liked it.”

  Moving her legs apart, I trace my fingers along her inner thighs. Her ass rises the closer they get to the center, and I smile at her eagerness. I trace my finger along her wetness, pausing to make a circle around her rigid clit.

  “Rowan,” she gasps. “Please…”

  “I love to hear you beg.” Leaning forward, I kiss her bare ass just before I put my teeth on it and give her a gentle bite.