The last time she’d seen it, it was hanging in the Smithsonian in Washington—22 years ago.
Again, Ari thought of her father. How could she not? Despite his mistakes, despite all the rotten parts of his legacy, his true passion for fine art was like the ray of sunshine in the painting, the one sliver of goodness Ari had always held close. On that trip to D.C., he’d taken her to a dozen museums, teaching her all about the vanitas works of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, paintings that reflected the transient nature of life, the futility of earthly pleasures. Adrift was a treasure, a stunning example, a painting that had hung in the museum for decades.
And now it was here, nailed to the wall in some soon-to-be-foreclosed Upper West Side penthouse, unobserved, unappreciated, utterly forgotten.
Ari swallowed the lump in her throat. People like this—like this family, like the others here tonight, like all the men and women her father had procured fine art for—thought nothing of exchanging their millions for the pleasure of possessing something beautiful, something they could hang over the mantel to impress their guests.
But unlike the real bidders, Ari couldn’t feign ignorance about where the art had come from. There was a reason these auctions were held at private penthouses and VIP clubs rather than at Christy’s or Sotheby’s. A reason why the artifacts—no matter how precious—weren’t in a museum, even if they’d started out there. Ari wondered if her man from the bar had any idea that his precious Whitfield was pilfered during the Second World War—first by the Nazis, second by the American soldiers.
And after that, by people like Ari’s father. People like her.
Guilt gnawed at her insides. It was a familiar on-the-job companion, but now it was edged with anger, a red-hot blaze seething just beneath her skin. The anger swelled, and for a moment Ari considered abandoning the job, going full-on rebel, and enjoying the night with the hot stranger as though she really were a bored socialite, no bigger concern than outbidding the crowd, no agenda other than a nice evening out.
But as she looked at the painting, the near-ruined ship, the jagged rocks, the sunshine, Ari knew she wasn’t allowed to live by other people’s rules. Society’s rules. Legal rules. She’d been raised for this, apprenticed by a master thief and his best men. Aside from the mother who’d left when Ari was a toddler, she’d grown up wanting for nothing, doted on and groomed by a loving, larger-than-life father who’d promised her the world and tried his best to deliver, right up until the day he died.
By the time Ari was old enough to realize she didn’t want her father’s world, it was too late. She’d seen too much, kept too many secrets, gotten her hands too dirty. And now, with the last of her father’s money dwindling and Davidson in charge of the crew she’d once thought of as family, she was trapped.
Fuck Davidson.
Ari turned away from the painting and wiped her eyes. Steeling herself, she shoved the guilt and anger back down, locking them in a box and bolting it shut.
She had a room to case.
The study was large and cool, with deep, peacock-green walls, floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and stiff leather furniture that probably hadn’t been used in months.
There was no wall safe, so Ari moved to the expansive oak desk at the center of the room, polished to a gleam and dotted with the requisite accessories: desk blotter, banker’s lamp, brass letter opener. It looked like a fake set for a scotch commercial, or maybe one about lawyers.
She pulled open the top drawers, rummaging through a pile of old receipts, computer manuals, and junk mail—all worthless. Her fingers had just closed around the bottom drawer handle when a noise from the doorway kicked her heart into overdrive.
Her mystery man stood on the threshold, arms crossed over his chest, utterly smug.
She’d been so distracted by the Von Hausen, she hadn’t bothered closing the door.
“My, my,” he said, his delicious accent melting her panties at the worst possible time. “You’ve been a bad kitty.”
Shit.
“I… Hey! How did you… um…” Ari released the drawer handle and stood up straight, smoothing out her dress as though it were perfectly normal to be snooping through the desk of a total stranger, tucked away in a room at the end of a long hallway that had been very clearly roped off. “Wow. That security guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. This is sooo not the powder room!”
“So not.” The man closed the door behind him and joined her at the desk. With his penetrating gaze pinning her in place, Ari counted at least three different shades of gold in his beautiful brown eyes.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” he said, trailing a finger over her hand. “And what’s with the gloves? I don’t recall seeing them earlier.”
Panic rose in her chest, but she quickly tamped it down. Her little rebellion had made her a bit careless tonight—drinking, flirting, not covering her tracks. She’d gotten herself noticed, but that didn’t mean she was exposed. Not yet.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.” She peeled the black satin gloves from her hands and stuffed them into her purse. “My hands were cold. And I just felt like stretching my legs.”
“In here?” He looked around the study, his brow furrowed. “Why?”
“No reason, really.”
“Well you’d better think of something, gorgeous. Security is right down the hall.” He cocked his head, teasing her with that maddeningly sexy smirk as he pretended to listen for the guard’s footsteps. “Getting close, I’ll bet. Maybe I should let him know we’re here, just to be—”
“Wait! Please,” she said. “I can explain everything.”
Still smirking, the man took another step closer. Lowering his voice to a raspy whisper, he said, “I’m on pins and needles, love.”
For all her bravado, Ari trembled inside. She’d never been so damn reckless, come so close to losing everything.
“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” the man said. He was still smiling, but behind his playful gaze, Ari sensed he was trying to work something out. Namely, her true motives, and whether or not he should call the guard.
Or worse—the police.
God, Ari hated herself in this moment, but if she didn’t make a move—the only move she had left—this could become a five-alarm emergency.
Hoping she’d read his earlier signals right, she placed her hand against his broad, firm chest, letting her fingers brush the exposed skin beneath his collarbone.
His breath hitched.
It was a small tell, almost imperceptible behind the facade of his teasing, but all the confirmation she needed.
This man was totally turned on.
Ari had read the signals right, and now she had him right where she wanted him.
She offered him a seductive smile and brought her lips close to his ear. “Can you keep another secret?”
Chapter Four
Jared covered the woman’s delicate fingers with his strong, broad hand, pressing her against his chest. “I’ll keep all your secrets, love.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, likely buying time to make her excuse. She was clearly up to no good. But what kind of no good, Jared could only speculate. Robbery was top of mind, but if that were the case, she had very few options for hiding her treasure—that hot little dress was definitely not made for smuggling.
“I have reason to believe that the family is on the verge of bankruptcy,” she said. “I heard they’d probably sell low, and they might consider offers for the items that aren’t officially on the block.”
Jared laughed. “Considering what I just paid for that painting, they might be back in the black.”
“Two million is a drop in the bucket for these people,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow, taking in her polished appearance, the tasteful but nevertheless authentic diamonds studding her earlobes. “These people?”
“The… I just meant…” She closed her mouth and pulled away from his grasp, clearly flustered. When she sp
oke again, her voice had softened considerably. “It’s a terrible situation. They have a lot of debt. Two million, three million, it’s not enough. The penthouse is probably in foreclosure. They’re moving overseas.”
Jared didn’t like to trade gossip, especially about other people’s misfortunes, but he suspected her theory was true. He’d been gouged on the painting, but they would’ve settled for a lot less if she hadn’t run up the bidding.
“I don’t see what their financial situation has to do with your sneaking around,” he said.
“It has everything to do with it,” she snapped, her cheeks blushing, “but nothing to do with you.”
“I see.” Jared offered a wry smile. Trouble or not, her feistiness turned him on beyond reason. There were few things he enjoyed more than a woman who could hold her own, even as she begged to be dominated.
“Look,” she said, nodding toward the fireplace. Over the mantle hung a massive painting of a ship adrift on a stormy sea, its thick paint splintering into perceptible cracks on the surface. It looked authentic, and badly in need of restoration. A shame, really.
“Heinrich Von Hausen,” she said. “Adrift. One of his lesser known works, but still a masterpiece by any measure. It’s one of my favorites—my father took me to see it at the Smithsonian when I was seven. How it came to rest here, I can only imagine.”
“Lovely story,” he said. “Quite touching, that bit about your father. But it still doesn’t explain what you’re doing in here.”
The woman licked her bottom lip, damn near erasing his mind.
“Let me guess,” he said playfully. “You’re plotting a heist.”
Her eyes widened, but then she leaned in close, placing her hand against his chest again. Like everything else about the woman, her touch was warm and electric, at once soft and sure. Her breath brushed his cheeks as she spoke in a sexy whisper. “Maybe you’re plotting a heist, and I’ve been sent to investigate you.”
Beneath her fingers, his heart beat wildly. “I’d like to state for the record that I’ll cooperate fully with your investigation. Especially if handcuffs are involved.”
Her pupils dilated, darkening her hazel eyes, and the quickening of her breath left little room for misinterpretation. In a husky voice that sent a bolt of desire straight to his cock, she said, “That could definitely be arranged.”
She was in his arms before he could think of a retort, her lips pressing hotly against his throat, his jaw, and finally, his mouth.
Trouble.
She was obviously trying to distract him, but Jared didn’t care. Hell, at this point she could’ve shot him in the chest and he wouldn’t have noticed. All that mattered was her lush, hot mouth devouring his flesh.
Heat surged between them as she moaned against his lips, threading her fingers into his hair.
Without breaking their kiss, he backed her against the desk and lifted her onto it, shoving everything else aside, his hands gripping her perfect tight ass. She hiked up her dress, wrapping her long, toned legs around his hips and pulling him in close, right between her thighs. He was losing himself in the delicious heat of her kiss, wanting nothing more than to utterly consume her.
Slowly she worked the buttons on his shirt, her lightest touch sending ripples of pleasure across his skin. He slid his hands beneath her dress, thrilled to find that she wore no stockings—only a skimpy pair of panties that were already soaked with her desire.
Shirt buttons finally undone, the woman’s hands roamed his muscled chest, his ribs, the flat planes of his stomach, working their way to his belt buckle. His cock strained against the suit pants, desperate to feel those luscious lips wrapped around him, sucking him hard and deep as her tongue teased his shaft…
Get it together, Blackwell.
“Not so fast, love.” He grabbed her hands, forcing himself to focus. To regain control. “I’ve got plans for you first.”
“What sort of plans?”
“Since you like secrets so much, I’m not at liberty to say. But I’ll give you a hint. Close your eyes.”
Without hesitation, she obeyed, trusting her pleasure entirely to him. He didn’t know how much time they had before someone discovered them, but for now, she was his to touch, to command.
He couldn’t wait to make her come.
“I thought we’d start with something simple,” he said. Through the thin silk of her panties, he traced the outline of her swollen clit, driving her mad with wanting.
“And then we might move on to something a little more… intense.” He increased the pressure, rubbing a slow, hot circle with his thumb as she arched toward him, her eyes still closed, her lips parted in a breathy moan.
His heart pounded, thrilled that he’d put her in such a state. With his free hand, he guided her thighs apart, stretching her wide.
She arched her hips again, rocking against his hand as he moved the fabric aside and stroked her hot flesh. Her body was so responsive to his touch; she was drenched, and Jared couldn’t wait to taste her, to make her shudder beneath him.
“I know you like this,” he whispered, sliding two fingers inside her pussy and teasing her with slow, deliberate thrusts, his thumb still massaging her clit. “But here’s another secret, love: I didn’t track you down just so I could fuck you with my hand. Open your eyes. Look at me.”
Through heavy-lidded eyes, the woman watched Jared drag his hand out of her panties and lift it to his mouth. With a moan he sucked her juices from his fingers, reveling in her sweet taste, his cock engorged and ready. “My, but you’re exquisite.”
“It’s not fair,” she said, her voice raspy and desperate. She slid forward on the desk and reached again for his belt. “I want to taste you. Take you in, slow and deep.”
Jared groaned at the thought, the idea almost making him lose the last of his control. He was so tempted to give in, to let this woman have her way with him, however she wanted it. But as soon as she reached inside his boxer briefs, he pulled back.
“No,” he said, barely holding on. His dick may have had other plans, but Jared was in control here, not the woman. No matter how turned on he’d gotten by that smart mouth of hers, by her touch, her kiss, he wouldn’t let her make the rules. “I have a better idea.”
She flashed him a wicked grin. “Tell me.”
He slid his fingers into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he pressed his lips to her collarbone. Tantalizingly slow, he kissed his way up the elegant column of her neck, to her jaw, and then to her ear.
In a deep, commanding voice that left no room for debate, he said, “You’re going to open your legs for me, and I’m going to eat that pussy until you come so hard you can’t remember how to walk. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” she panted.
Leaning back on the desk, she fisted the fabric of her dress in both hands, slowly rolling it toward her waist as if she were unwrapping an extravagant gift, all for Jared. He ran his thumbs up the insides of her bare thighs and spread her wide, pausing only a moment to admire the view. Her panties clung to the outline of her sex, dark and damp.
So fucking hot.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he said. “I can’t wait to lick your—”
“Excuse me?”
The call from the doorway shocked them both. They’d been so enraptured; they hadn’t even heard the guard open the door. Yet there he was, shaking his head at them like he’d just caught the cat swallowing the canary.
Jared stood up, stepping in front of the desk to give the woman a modicum of privacy from the guard’s lecherous gaze. He couldn’t think of a proper explanation, so he kept silent, doing his best to reassemble his clothing as the woman did the same behind him.
“You wanna tell me what the hell you’re doin’ in here?” The guard spoke with a thick Brooklyn-Italian accent, and Jared couldn’t decipher whether he was angry, shocked, or seriously entertained. “You didn’t see those big-ass ropes? This room is off-limits.”
“We were just working
through some differences,” the woman said suddenly, standing up beside Jared. She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, interlacing their fingers. “About the Whitfield painting? I don’t know if you saw the big showdown, but things got pretty heated in there.”
“Come on, lady.” The guard shook his head again, his laughter loud and gruff. “I’ve seen some freaky shit at this job, but you two are a real piece. You know that?”
“I’m sorry,” Jared said. He was still breathless, and he had to angle himself against the woman’s hip to hide his still-throbbing erection. “We got a bit carried away. My wife can be quite…” He held her gaze, tracing her lower lip with his thumb as he sought the right word. “Insatiable,” he finally said. “Isn’t that right, love?”
“Oh, yes, dear.” She took the tip of his thumb between her teeth, teasing it with her tongue, her eyes locked on his in a naughty challenge.
This cannot end well.
Despite the audience, Jared’s eyelids grew heavy, the bulge in his pants hard against her thigh. There was no way around it now; he needed to dominate her. To tie her down and fuck her until she begged him to let her come.
“Jesus H. Christ. Enough, already.” The guard thumbed toward the door. “You can’t come past the ropes, capisce?”
“Of course,” Jared said, covertly trailing his fingers down the curve of the woman’s ass, teasing her through the fabric. She was still so wet for him, heat radiated through her panties and dress. “From now on, I’ll make sure she knows exactly where she can come.”
Chapter Five
They’d walked less than a dozen steps from the guard’s line of sight before the man pulled her through another doorway, quickly shutting the door behind them.
Ari’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. She could barely make out his features, but heat emanated from his body, his breath caressing her hair like the softest breeze.
“A closet?” she said, more turned on than she wanted to admit. “That’s a new adventure.”
Bared to the Billionaire: The Complete Series Page 3
