Captured in Croatia (5 page)

He
doesn’t seem apologetic in the least for allowing me to be frisked. It’s a simple precaution in order for a stranger to be welcomed into his inner sanctum, a necessary means of survival for him. How daunting to have to go through that on a daily basis, to never be sure who you can trust.

Juric leads the way as w
e enter a foyer the size of an art gallery. Three stories soar upward to a stunning dome that, at this distance, appears to be inlaid with silver. But what’s hanging suspended from the curved ceiling makes me gasp in sheer delight.

“Oh my
, Vasilije, is that a Florian Cassel chandelier?” I can’t hide the genuine thrill in my voice.

Standing motionless in the foyer,
he grins down at me like a proud peacock.

“Why yes
, my beauty. I commissioned him to create the piece especially for this space. Are you familiar with his work?”

Florian Cassel
, one of the most celebrated modern Parisian glass blowers. His work is beyond extraordinary. I’ve always been fascinated with glass art and in my humble opinion, Florian’s work is hands down the finest in the world. I regularly swoon over his creations in art review magazines, and this man actually possesses one of his pieces. Unbelievable! This shocking piece of art must cost upwards of half a million dollars
. For a chandelier
.

I stare in wonder at the twisting swirls of colored glass that
flow downward into a twelve-foot-long pyramid. Turquoise, white, gold, and pewter colors create a kaleidoscopic riot of perfection.

Still gazing upwards
, I say softly, “Yes, he had an exhibit at a botanical garden back in the states that I attended while in college. It was one of the most beautiful collections of art that I have ever seen. You’re very fortunate to have one of his pieces.”

He
seems serious as he says, “I work hard and make certain to acquire everything that I want. I admire a woman who has passion for life, for art. Come, my beauty.”

His
arm closes around my waist and he ushers me through the room beside him. We head up the wide, curved set of white Bianchi marble steps that lead to the second story of the mansion. No messing around with a tour this evening. He must be ready to get busy.
Bring your best, bad boy ….

Halfway up the
elegant staircase, I stop to stare in awe. The Cassel wonder is now nearly at eye level. Ribbons of striated color flow through each mesmerizing twist. I could stand here all night and
never
get enough. Mesmerized, I nearly reach out for the railing so I can bend forward for a closer look. But then I remember my training and compose myself. I must not leave fingerprints if I can help it, especially on an object that no one else will have touched.

I sense
that I’m being watched from below and dip my chin to lock eyes with Zoran. His hands are crossed at his wrists and rest just below his belt line. He stares at me with a narrowed scowl that is completely terrifying. It’s as if he’s furious that I’m here at all.
How could he sense anything wrong? There’s no way that I’m not the first woman to visit his boss’ house.

Perhaps he’s just jealous, thinking that Juric is abo
ut to get lucky rather than him. Who cares? I have a job to complete and I can’t afford to let this gorgeous man distract me.

W
ith a dismissive toss of my hair, I arch a brow at him and turn to face Juric before continuing up the staircase.
Nothing you can do to stop me now, Zoran. The train has left the station. I’m about to hack your boss’ PC, big guy.

We make our w
ay in silence down a large hallway inlaid with mosaic tile. The floor is so intricate. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. A geometric vision of black and white with shades of amber, each perfectly placed to form an ingenious pattern that runs the length of the hall. I nearly feel guilty walking across it. I’m half-tempted to take off my spiked high heels.

The hallway must be seventy feet long
, and masterpieces abound. An LED spotlight illuminates one stunning work of original art after another: Miro, Kandinsky, Turner. On and on. This mansion would be a cat burglar’s wet dream. No wonder the gates are so solid and the guards out in full force. The value of his art collection far outweighs that of his glorious mansion.

A double set of carved French
oak doors await us. They look both medieval and romantic at the same time. He pushes down on one of the metal handles and steps back, gesturing with with his manicured hand. “After you, my dear.”

Ah, Vasilije, always the elegant gentleman. I
almost feel guilty about what is about to happen to you … almost.

I step into a
candlelit erotic fantasy. The first word that comes to mind is masculine …
very
masculine. The walls are a dark charcoal gray and the ceiling looks like hardwood, probably from an endangered tropical rainforest. The entire vibe is far more intimate and primal compared to the controlled grace of the rest of his opulent home.

At the center of the room is a massive black bed. The quilted leather headboard and footboard are oversized and appear so sumptuous that I can just imagine myself being thrust up against one while being fucked ruthlessly from behind.
Even his duvet and sheets are a sleek midnight black, undoubtedly the highest thread count that money can buy. This wicked bedroom is made for down and dirty sex. Period.

The door
clicks closed behind me. I turn with a “come hither” smile and await his move. He steps forward with smooth grace and strokes my hair while whispering, “I took one look at you tonight in that seductive dress of yours and I knew that I absolutely had to have you beneath me in my bed tonight. Nobody else would do.”

He leans in closer and touches my lips in a h
eated kiss as his hands reach to release the bow tie at the back of my neck. I moan softly as his smooth, experienced lips take their time exploring my mouth. He’s a skilled, passionate kisser. I can easily understand why women are drawn to him.

As
the top part of my dress falls and bares my chest, I shimmy it down the rest of the way to pool on the floor. He breaks the kiss for a moment to pull back and stare at my pink-tipped breasts. He makes a rough sound of male approval as he grabs my ass from behind and pulls me forcefully up against his hard torso. I can feel his thick erection pulsing in need against his expensive wool slacks.

Timing
, Carew … time it perfectly so he doesn’t call out.

I allow him to deepen the kiss and fondle my b
reasts before I pull back lightly in his embrace. “I want you so much, Vasilije. Please, allow me to undress you.”

I reach up to seductively und
o his midnight blue silk tie. Once it’s unknotted, I start on the buttons of his perfectly pressed white dress shirt. I marvel at his tanned, muscled torso. He’s incredibly fit and must work out on a daily basis. Not bad at all for a guy in his late forties. If it weren’t for my assignment, I may have been taken with him regardless.

“Oh
, you’re so gorgeous,” I coo up at him.

He groans in both need and approval.

Here we go ….

I run my hands lightly back and forth against his hot torso, allowing my ballerina pink nails t
o skim across his nipples.
Lull him ….

With my right arm extended up
toward his neck, I take an incredibly quick step to my left and pivot around him. In the split second it takes my feet to lock into place, I clamp my arm like an immobile vice around his neck. Self-preservation kicks in as he immediately fights for air by clawing at my arm, trying to wrench free.

My left arm is banded across his
mouth, preventing him from calling out. His struggle becomes furious. I loop my right leg around his ankle, sweeping his legs out from under him and bringing him down to the floor, where the frantic scramble for freedom resumes. He’s desperate to get loose, but I’ve got him pinned and he’s running out of oxygen.

It should take about forty
-five seconds for him to pass out in this sleeper hold. He’s very strong and I need every ounce of strength to keep both arms latched tightly together. As his motions begin to slow I feel a tinge of remorse. He seems like a nice man.

“Shhh. You’ll be fine
,” I whisper softly to him.

It’s doubtful he can comprehend what I’m saying. He’s about to black out from lack of oxygen. Once he
’s completely still I count to five before releasing him.

Fast and furious
, Carew!

I whip the
tie from his neck and secure it around his head and mouth, forming a quick, impromptu gag. Next I race into his closet and grab two more of his neckties. I make quick work of both his hands and feet. Even when he wakes, he’s not going anywhere.
At least not until I’m long gone.

I slip my dress back on and slide out of
my heels. I can’t escape with them anyhow, they’ll only slow me down. I reach under the inserts of my shoes for the hidden set of thin, latex gloves. I was careful not to touch anything in the house on the way in. Well, with the exception of my mark.

Our surveillance team learne
d from the wiretaps on his mobile that he works from home on the weekends. His office is located just off this bedroom. I race to the interior door in the far corner of the room, close to the balcony. As I enter I see a sleek mahogany desk sitting before a curved wall of glass windows. An oversized Mac and keyboard are the only things on top of it.

I turn
on the screen and immediately type in his lengthy password. My director was able to obtain it within the past twelve hours. He probably had to pay off someone in Juric’s network. Last I heard, the surveillance team was having a hard time cracking his encryption coding. This was part of the reason I had to be sent in. Direct access to his computer makes my job so much easier, especially now that I have the password.

Luckily
, the password is correct and I quickly scan through his files. Soon I locate the design I’m looking for.

I print out the four crucial pages
, and while they are coming out of his printer, I note that this design is very different from the edited specs our client showed us. Juric must have come up with his own programming design, one that’s completely unique but performs the same function. I’m not an engineer but I have a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t steal anything. I’m incensed that our client sent us out on a bad lead. These missions aren’t easy to put together, and now it seems it was all a waste of time. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. Once I have the four pages tucked away within my clutch, I clear the screen, turn the monitor off, and race back to the bedroom.

Juric
is just beginning to stir. I need to get the hell out of here. I flick on a chrome lamp that rests by the bed—one time on and then off. This is my signal to the crew staked out just outside the property line to briefly interrupt the feed to the security camera covering the balcony as well as the alarm system. Barefoot, I creep out into the chilly night, quietly closing the glass door behind me. I have to be quick, knowing that they are only giving me a two minute window with the cameras and alarm. If the guards sense the disruption is anything more than a glitch in the electricity, they will lock down everything and I’ll be trapped on the property.

I’m silent as I cross
over the smooth stone of the balcony to the carved balustrade. The garden below is large and well maintained. I just need to get down and around the corner of the mansion to my vehicle. Swinging first one then the other leg over the ledge, I hold tightly to the thick, smooth columns as I lower down into a crouch. Once I’m dangling from the base, I peer down and see that the pruned bushes are directly below me.
Perfect.

My feet are almost touching the cool leaves
as I let go and do my best to control the fall. As I land, mostly in the bush, fresh scrapes open up from the force of hitting the branches. No matter, I’ve had worse. Within seconds I’m up and jogging swiftly to the edge of the building. I peek around the corner and see one of the guards on the far side of the fountain. He’s smoking a cigarette with his back to me.
Excellent.

I reach down into my halter and
unzip my clutch to reach for my keys. Once they are tightly in hand, I suck in a breath for courage and sprint toward my Nissan. I’m ten feet from my goal when everything explodes into mindless chaos.

A horrific growl comes from deep within the shadows
. I’ve no time to look as I hit the unlock button on the fob and jump into the car. Before I can close the door, a humongous black Rottweiler leaps at the car with such force that my door is slammed violently shut. The dog barks and snarls furiously at me through the window. A thick spray of saliva coats the glass as its nails rake furiously against the car.
Thank heaven I didn’t arrive two seconds later ….

I start the car
in a fevered rush and I’m just about to tear out of there when I hear a terrifying shout through the window.