Touched by a Thief Read online

  She’d fuck Gerard, betray him, kill him, whatever it took, but she wasn’t going back to jail.

  When this mission was done, she’d find Ian McGowan and slit his throat for betraying her.

  After nothing more than artificial light within the confines of her cell for four months, the bright sunshine blinded Monty when she stepped outside the prison door.

  Automatically she shielded her eyes with her hand.

  A black limousine waited at the curb.

  Gerard had come to collect his prize.

  Her gaze raked over the clothes she wore. Grime of months in prison caked her body despite the brief daily community showers she’d been allowed. A man used to elegant and perfumed women might turn his nose at the image she presented.

  Sure, she still stood proud. Thanks to the hours filled by pushing her body to exhaustion, her physique boasted lean, tone muscles that matched those she’d sported during her Marine days. Gerard loved her hair loose, but she hadn’t taken it out of the long braid and it brushed across her back.

  A black-suited man who resembled a former WWE wrestler, and might really be, stepped out of the driver’s side and opened the limo door.

  “Ma’am,” he drawled, not batting an eyelash at her appearance.

  She bet he didn’t usually pick up Gerard’s lovers from a women’s federal penitentiary.

  Surprisingly, the back of the limo sat empty. Then again, thinking Gerard would come to the prison to collect her had been naive. He had others for such inane tasks.

  She leaned back against the plush seat, inhaled the rich aroma of the car, the richer scent of freedom.

  They drove away from the curb, away from the watchful guards, away from a part of her life she’d like to forget completely.

  The dark window separating the driver from the remainder of the limo slid down.

  “Mr. Kincaid wishes your trip to be comfortable. Drinks are in the mini bar and fresh fruit and cheese in the fridge.”

  Fridge? Sure enough there was a small refrigerator. Her stomach growled, reminding her that it had been over four months since she’d had anything beyond prison food. Still, some of her military stints made prison food taste like manna.

  “I’d give my right arm for a burger, chocolate shake, and fries.”

  A sliver of a smile cracked his thin lips. “Yes, Ma’am. No arm required.”

  “Thanks.” Then she recalled that she had no money. Not a single cent on her. Shit. She needed access to her things.

  “Uhm,” she started to call him Stone Cold, but something pushed her to ask, “What’s your name?”

  “Butch.”

  Figured.

  “Butch, maybe we should curtail that calorie splurge until I’ve had a chance to collect my things. I’m short on cash at the moment.”

  “It’s several hours to Mr. Kincaid’s penthouse. Mr. Kincaid said to get you anything you want, anything at all. I’ll go through a drive-thru. Let me know if there’s anything else you require.”

  Fast food in a limo? She smiled and leaned back against the seat. Her freedom in exchange for stealing a diamond. The government wanting her to steal.

  If only it wasn’t from Gerard.

  He wouldn’t be so forgiving a second time.

  Hell, he hadn’t forgiven her the first time until their fighting turned into passion and they’d ended up tangled in the sheets and with each other.

  She closed her eyes and remembered the blade she’d held at his throat, the cold metal barrel he’d pressed against her chest while waiting for her to slit him open. She hadn’t. Instead she’d kissed him until he’d lowered the 9 mm, kissed him until he’d taken the knife from her and plunged the blade into his headboard. Then they’d plunged into each other.

  Sex with Gerard had been hot, wild, adventurous.

  But it hadn’t compared to what Ian did to her body, to her heart. She’d loved Ian. Damn it!

  Monty blinked. They’d pulled into a drive-through, Butch had paid, she now sat at the window awaiting her food, and the curious-at-whom-was-inside-the-limo lady asked if she wanted ketchup with her order.

  Seconds later she slurped her milkshake, sank her teeth into the burger, and stuck a hot fry into her mouth. Sweet Jesus, but this was good.

  She sighed her appreciation.

  Freedom never tasted so good as it did at that moment.

  Monty had been wrong. Freedom tasted even better in the form of the strawberries, chocolate sauce, and champagne Gerard had delivered to her bath later that evening.

  Plopping her head against the Jacuzzi cushion, she savored another succulent berry while soaking her body in the hot, bubbly water. The bath smelled of roses, and she imagined she would too once out of the tub. If she ever got out. Which was questionable at the moment.

  She didn’t care what she smelled like just so long as all the prison grime washed away.

  Privacy. For the first time in weeks, she was alone. Her body hummed with the knowledge and she ached to run her fingers over her breasts, down her belly, between her thighs. It had been so long since she’d had any type of sexual release and she throbbed with need.

  But not yet. Her deprived state would fuel the chemistry between she and Gerard.

  Eyes closed, she reached for another berry. Mmmm.

  The tiny hairs on the back of her neck warned someone entered the room. Gerard.

  Keeping her eyes closed, she retrieved a berry, slowly dragged the plump fruit across her bottom lip before sinking her teeth in. Juice squirted, and she licked at the corner of her mouth.

  “You missed a spot,” his refined, slightly aristocratic accent informed.

  Slowly, Monty opened her eyes and regarded the man who had rescued her from prison—not exactly in the way he thought he’d rescued her, but definitely her freedom was due him. For that alone she felt indebted to the sexy bastard. Feeling indebted wasn’t something she cherished, but thanks to her fuck up with Ian, she had no choice. She wouldn’t go back to jail. Not ever.

  He moved closer, knelt next to the tub and darted his tongue over her lips, removing all traces of juice. He didn’t try to turn the caress into a kiss and neither did she, letting him set the pace of what happened between them, letting the heat inside her stoke higher and higher. Just the thought of feeling his hard shaft thrusting inside her had her pussy swelling, on the verge of spontaneously spasming.

  “Thank you.”

  A dark brow rose. “For?”

  “Arranging my release. The limo. This.” She spread her arm, sending a spray of bubbles over the edge of the tub and onto the marble floor.

  His blue eyes glittered. “You didn’t think I’d let you rot in jail, surely, my pet?”

  She met his gaze and wondered what he’d say if she told him the truth?

  “I didn’t know you knew where I was.”

  He gave a scolding tsk. “You should have called.”

  She hadn’t called anyone. Why should she? The only people who cared couldn’t have done anything.

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, causing his gaze to drop to where the swell of her breasts bobbed above the water surface and mountains of rich white bubbles.

  Gerard skimmed the bubbles with a long, masculine finger. “It’s as well you didn’t since it made procuring your release much simpler.”

  She pursed her lower lip in a pout. “If you knew where I was, what took you so damn long?”

  Gerard laughed and grazed his knuckles along her cheek. “Perhaps time has improved your disposition toward me?”

  She knew what he asked.

  “You know you have me now.” She gestured toward her luxurious surroundings. “Which is why none of this is necessary. You must know that.”

  The blue of his eyes darkened. “Because I arranged for your release?”

  “Yes.” Why lie? They both knew the truth.

  “You feel indebted to me?”

  “Yes.” More than he would ever know. Jail messed with her mind. Or maybe it
had been Ian who messed with her mind. Her heart. She’d get the Degassi Diamond, then she’d have revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge where Ian begged her for mercy.

  Gerard’s thumb hooked her chin, lifting it to where their mouths practically touched. “You want me inside you?”

  Four months without the tiniest quiver of an orgasm and a powerful, testosterone laden man next to her looking like sex on a stick, smelling so good from the mixture of his expensive cologne and his own masculine scent, she twitched from the memory of what he could do to her body. Oh yeah, she wanted him inside her.

  She let her gaze travel over his mouth, his throat, lower, then she met his darkened eyes. “Perhaps you should join me and find out.”

  He smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth without any trace of humor. “I demand loyalty of those I allow in my life and my bed.”

  Monty held his gaze. “You know I am a thief. But even thieves have a code of honor.” She took his hand in hers, pulled it to her mouth and trailed her lips over his ring finger, letting her tongue trace over the unusual platinum band of the blue diamond ring he wore. Bold, expensive, mysterious. She’d never seen the intricate pattern, likely Gerard had commissioned a jeweler to design the ring. According to her informant, the Degassi diamond was a flawless, clear diamond, not a blue one. Still, her mouth watered at the prospect of slipping the ring from his finger and…no, she wouldn’t. “I will not bite the hand who rescued me. That is, unless you want me to.”

  To prove her point, she sucked his finger into her mouth and nibbled on the tip, mimicking a sexual act they’d never shared.

  His eyes glittered, and he slid his free hand beneath the bathwater to grasp her breast. He massaged the fullness, squeezed possessively.

  Her nipples puckered, straining into his caress. No man had touched her since Ian. Deep in her mind’s recesses, she’d wondered if she’d respond to any other man than the one who’d stolen her heart. Relief filled her that Gerard’s touch gave pleasure, and she arched, thrusting her other breast above the bubbles.

  Perhaps gratitude played a role. Perhaps the over four months without an orgasm did. Regardless she and Gerard had always shared an undeniable chemistry. Thank goodness Ian hadn’t robbed her of that as well.

  Gerard cupped her breast, growled his pleasure.

  Monty watched below half-closed lids, finding his caress pleasant. More than pleasant, hot. But she refused to compare the touch to Ian’s earth-shattering ones.

  She leaned forward, dropped a pouty kiss on his lips. “Is my body the payment you demand in return for my freedom? Am I to be your sexual slave, Gerard?”

  His hand on her breast tightened, as did his expression. “I forgot the sharpness of your tongue. Most women don’t speak so boldly to me.”

  “I’m not most women.” The fact she’d not fallen at his wealthy, charismatic feet was the reason he’d lusted for her so long. She wasn’t such a fool as to pretend to be a simpering love spawn for his every pleasure. Men wanted what they couldn’t have.

  He gave her breast a hard squeeze, then stood. “That you’re not, but I won’t force you.”

  She would kill any man who tried. “Had I not wanted you, wanted what will happen between us, I would have slipped away during the drive here.”

  He nodded slowly, although something in his eyes said he’d have spared no expense finding her. Or attempting to find her. Had she not wanted to be found, no one would have. She’d made it easy for the police because she hadn’t known what Ian had done, hadn’t known she’d been framed. Otherwise, she’d never have been caught. Damn Ian. Damn him to hell!

  “A dress is on your bed. Meet me in my dining room in thirty minutes.”

  Monty watched his confident strides to the doorway and wasn’t surprised when he turned, found her watching, and flashed his perfect teeth in a predatory smile. “Just so you know, you’re dessert.”

  Chapter Three

  Monty finished dressing, applying make-up, and styling her hair in twenty minutes, feeling amazingly female for the first time in months. Gerard made it easy by having everything she might desire at her disposal.

  He’d set out a blue silk dress that perfectly matched her eyes, intentionally no doubt. For her feet, a pair of black, slinky Italian stilettos that belonged in a porn film had been placed next to the dress, their designer bag beneath them. A barely there scrap of black lace meant to ride up her crack and pretend to cover her privates provided her only piece of underwear. There was no bra. Subtlety wasn’t Gerard’s strong suit.

  Always one for details and knowing one’s weakness, Gerard provided jewelry. A sapphire and diamond pendant on a delicate gold chain. A familiar pendant he’d given her following their shared night.

  How had he known she’d sold it? Probably the same way he knew she’d gone to prison.

  She wore the necklace, along with Gerard’s other gifts, letting the pendant dangle in the valley between her bare breasts.

  She left the room and went in search of the dining room. She’d never been to Gerard’s New York penthouse. Their escapade had taken place in Paris following his sister’s design debut in the fashion world and Monty’s theft of a prized ring that had once been worn by Marie Antoinette. Stealing his sister’s jewel and later returning it had been icing on the cake.

  Just how many homes did Gerard own and at which one would he store a prized diamond? What if he didn’t have the diamond anymore? What if he’d sold it to the highest bidder already?

  If he did have the jewel, she’d find it, steal it.

  Taking note of every photo, every custom nook and cranny that might hide a wall safe or a hidden entrance to a secret room, Monty made her way through the apartment and to the dining room.

  A table for twenty was set for two. The far side of the room offered nothing but floor to ceiling windows overlooking the New York skyline. Millions of lights beaconed like a blanket of brightly colored jewels. A crackling blaze roared in an eight foot wide fireplace along another wall, casting shadows that danced on the ceiling.

  Red wine chilled on the table.

  Helping herself, she expertly popped the cork and poured a glass.

  For at least the next few days she’d be Gerard’s mistress. He knew how to please a woman in bed and his touch earlier promised that Ian hadn’t ruined her forever.

  Excitement curled in her belly at the thought of the pleasure the night would bring. Too long she’d gone without satisfaction.

  The prison offered no privacy and she hadn’t been willing to put on a peep show for the all too eager to watch guards. No self release. No sex. Nothing since Ian.

  Damn it, she had to stop thinking about him. He didn’t deserve a second thought, yet her heart filled with rage at his betrayal. Her pride demanded revenge. Once she attained her freedom, she’d set Ian up, betray him the way he’d betrayed her. Strip him of that damn arrogance he wore so well.

  Noting how tightly she held the crystal goblet, she forcibly relaxed and reminded herself to enjoy being the focus of Gerard’s attention and the freedom that focus provided.

  She walked to the window and stared down at the city. So much hustle and bustle, each light representing someone’s life, someone’s world.

  It had been too long since she’d experienced the joys of life, of sipping on good wine, dressed in finery, surrounded by every luxury.

  “You’re early,” a rich baritone pointed out.

  “A few minutes. I’ve never been one to dawdle,” she answered, turning to face Gerard. He truly was a handsome man. Tall, slim, refined, with an aristocratic air that reminded her of Pierce Brosnan. He even resembled the actor in his younger, Remington Steele days.

  Monty twirled the remainder of her wine, letting it swish around the goblet’s rim, but not spilling a single drop. “I see you found my necklace.”

  Gerard gave a wry grin. “Like many precious items, it was for sale to the highest bidder.”

  She arched a brow. “You bought it?”

&n
bsp; He laughed. “Unlike some, I am not in the habit of taking jewels that don’t belong to me.”

  Not according to Uncle Sam.

  Monty drank her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. When she finished, he picked up the wine bottle and topped off her glass.

  “I thought you might like to have it back.” He replaced the wine bottle on the table. “As a memento of the night we met.”

  She plucked the pendant from her bosom and caressed it. “You thought right.”

  His brow lifted with more than a little humor. “Because it will bring a pretty penny should you need funds?”

  Monty dropped the jewel to rest back in the swell of her breasts and laughed, the sound foreign to her ears. How long since she’d felt the simple joy of laughter? The simple joy of being the object of a man’s desire?

  Forget Ian, she reminded herself. Gerard was here, the present, eyeing her as if he was starved and she the main course.

  “You know me too well,” she purred. Her awareness of Gerard’s sexuality increased with every tick of the ornate cherry grandfather clock. Memories of his thick shaft between her thighs caused her pelvic muscles to clench. She had fond memories of Gerard and perhaps in another lifetime they could have been more than lovers.

  “That I do.” His gaze dropped to where the necklace nestled. “Before the night ends, I shall know you even better.”

  “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she reminded, leaning close enough to breathe in his expensive scent. Spicy, clean, manly. Nothing like the rank smells of the prison. She tired of games. She wanted him. He wanted her. There was no need for this set seduction.