Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (21 page)

I can feel the tears shaping down my cheeks now, and
Flint hugs me and kisses me, his own face filled with emotion.

“
You said you wanted to visit again,” he says.

“
I did.”

“
Are you happy to be here?”

I nod as I slowly look around at the island once more.

“
Good,” he says, “because this isn't the only
surprise.”

We return to the boat, and Flint retrieves a couple of
bags from inside. Within are provisions for the night. Sleeping bags,
firelighters, food and wine.

“
I thought we could spend the night,” he says with a
smile. “Only, I thought we could do with being better prepared this
time.”

He pulls out the firelighters and matches, and even a
small can of lighter fluid.

“
I don't think starting a fire will be quite so
difficult this time.”

I laugh, and together we set about retrieving some wood
from the jungle to fill the fire pit, which remains untouched as
well. We light the fire, pop open a bottle of wine, and start eating
the picnic foods that Flint brought along for the ride.

Together we reminisce, and lie under the stars, and make
love to the sound of the lapping waves as the moon continues its
march across the sky.

And when we're done, and we're lying naked together on
the sand as we once did, Flint returns to our camp to collect a
bottle of champagne.

He returns, and pours two glasses, and as I sip the
golden liquid under the white glow of the stars above, he pulls
something from behind his back.

He drops to one knee, and my heart almost gives out.

“
Libby,” he says, naked on the sand, “will you do
me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

I drop the champagne, and the glass falls with a dull
thud in the sand. My body rushes toward him, my arms wrapping around
him, and we crumple into a heap of arms and legs on the beach.

“
I'll take that as a yes,” he says through my
kisses.

And the island that was our prison and our haven,
becomes the one where I got engaged to Flint Young.

Prologue

“
You're going to do everything I tell you to do. When
I tell you to open your legs, you're going to open your legs. When I
tell you to bend over, you're going to bend over. Do you understand?”

I nod, and wait for my first instruction, dressed in a
black slim fitting gown and black heels. As instructed, I'm wearing
black lipstick and eyeliner too, adding to that mysterious appeal
that he seems to like so much.

Sage Dalton stands ahead of me, covered in a gray suit
that hugs his tightly manufactured body. His hair is short, dark, and
perfectly matches the color of his eyes, a brown so deep they look
black from more than a couple of feet away.

He wears no smile on his face, just a look of power and
control and lust. A look to say that he's the boss, and I have to do
everything he says.

He walks toward me slowly, purposefully, and puts his
thumb and index finger to my chin. He raises my head so that it's
tilting up toward his tall frame, and drops his lips to mine.

He kisses me gently, and I don't kiss back, still
waiting for an order. He pulls back, and runs his tongue between his
lips, his face cracking into a lascivious smile.

“
I like the way you taste,” he tells me.

The room is warm, a comfortable heat, but my body is
still shivering a little. A mixture of nerves and excitement pulses
through me, the lingering feel of his lips on mine setting my body
trembling just that little bit more.

Right behind me is a bed, large and luscious, covered is
colored cushions and drapes and duvets and sheets. The room drips
with a blood red tint, the walls warm and alluring and romantic.

The light is low, the sort of dim light that magnifies
assets and hides flaws. The sort that conceals any imperfections on
your skin, any slight blemishes and blushes on your body. Right now,
my cheeks, glowing a light pink, are dulled by the shade.

Sage takes a couple of steps back, and looks me up and
down. I stand upright, trying to maintain my pose and posture, trying
to keep my legs from shaking as his eyes snake over me.

“
Remove your dress,” he says, returning his eyes to
mine. “Do it slowly. Do it sensually.”

He moves back another step and drops into a chair by the
wall, crosses his legs, and waits casually for the show to start.

His voice is rumbling and deep and oozes authority. Even
though I'm doing this because I have to, I'd imagine he exercises the
same control with his staff and business associates.

But I'm not a member of his staff. I'm not being paid
for this. I'm doing this to keep my ass out of jail.

I'd do anything to keep from going back there...

I slide my arms behind my back, my agility and
flexibility making it simple for me to reach the awkward zip. Slowly,
with my eyes never leaving his, I pull down, and feel the fabric
loosen over my body.

One by one, I slip the shoulder straps off me, let them
fall down my upper arms and lie against my soft skin. Now I pull
down, peel the tight fitting dress over my bust, my breasts bursting
into view. As he'd ordered, I'm not wearing any underwear.

The sight of my pale breasts widens the look of lust in
his eyes, creates an extra crinkle in his smile as dimples deepen on
his cheeks.

I keep pulling, running my hands down past my navel,
revealing my toned stomach, and over my hips. I twist my waist a
touch as the dress reaches my pubic region, but his voice stops me in
the act.

“
No,” he says from the shadow against the wall.
“Turn around. Show me the other side of you.”

I do as I'm told, taking several small step in my heels
until I'm looking in the other direction. I continue now, pushing the
dress down, rolling the cloth over the top of my ass. I bend down a
little, arch my ass up as I continue to strip the black dress off my
ashen skin.

A slight chill runs over me as I feel the dress drop
down my legs and bunch on the floor, leaving me completely naked,
completely exposed.

I stand up straight, and wait for a moment before he
speaks again.

“
Turn around.”

Now his eyes drink me in fully. My athletic legs, the
curve of my hips, my toned midsection and pert breasts. His eyes
drift to my groin, shaven and clean, and the strip between my thighs.

“
You have a beautiful body,” he tells me. “You
missed your calling. You should have been a model.”

But I'm not a model. I'm a thief. And that's just why
I'm here...

“
Move back to the bed,” comes his voice, spilling
out of him and growing with desire. “It's time to get started.”

Chapter One

Two Nights Earlier

It's cold, dark, and completely silent.

The night sky crackles with the distant sound of
thunder, so far off it's faint, a blanket of heavy cloud above
swiftly gliding past with the stiff breeze.

My body is covered in black from head to toe. It often
is at this time of night, when the world sleeps and my work begins.

Black pants. A tight black top. A black hooded sweater
to guard against the cold. My thick brown hair is bunched up in a
ball, hidden beneath a black balaclava, only my hazel eyes and pale
lips visible behind the thin fabric.

Ahead of me is a wall, too tall to jump up and grab the
top of. Along it are cameras stretching around the boundary of the
estate. They're supposed to pick up everything.

They won't pick up me.

I'm a professional, and this is my world. I've been
scouting this property for weeks now, learning everything I can about
it. Using contacts to gain access to its blueprints, to find out what
treasures lie within.

The owner, I know, is a billionaire. His name – Sage
Dalton – is well known among the world's elite, if not the general
public. But it's not the person I care about, it's what he has hidden
within his home.

A single score against a man like him can make me
millions.

With a small backpack fitted to my back, I move toward
the wall and feel for the tiniest of handholds to slip my fingers
into. I'm strong, agile, and capable of scaling a wall like this
easily enough as long as I find the right place to climb.

With the ease of a monkey, I lift myself up from the
ground and soon reach the top. This particular spot, my research has
told me, is a rare blind spot for the cameras on the wall and around
the proximity of the estate.

I drop to the ground on the other side and see the
mansion looming in the distance, a grand shadow against the dark sky.
In my head I think of the positions of the cameras hidden around the
gardens, in fountains and statues, on the walls of the various wings
of the mansion itself.

I know, too, that there are security staff at certain
points along the perimeter. The gate, in particular is manned 24
hours a day, but aside from that a couple of other guards monitor any
movement around the property.

But still, I won't be seen. I know their routines, where
they go and at what point. And I know that my infiltration route is
clear, as long as I stick to my schedule.

I wait a few moments by the wall, hidden against it with
the shadows of the clouds above obscuring any view of me. The storm
raging in the distance is an excellent and welcome distraction. In
fact, it's largely why I've chosen tonight as the night to make my
move...

Forward I creep, guiding my path through the maze of
gardens and trees and flower beds. At one point a light shines,
spilling its glow over the external reaches of the mansion's western
wing, a spotlight tripped by my movement.

I'm ready for it. I expect it.

As soon as I step to where I know the motion sensor is,
I'm darting forward as quick as a cat toward a small alcove built
into the side of the wall. Above, I hear the distinct electronic
whirr of a camera as it pans around to look over the lit space of
garden.

I'm no longer there.

For a few moments, the camera turns from side to side,
until going still once more.
A squirrel or a bird or some other
rodent.
That's what they'll be thinking. Nothing worth checking
in person.

Against the cold stone of the mansion, I slip around
until I reach a ground floor window. I pull my backpack off my
shoulders, take hold of a glass cutter, and set it to the window
pane.

The suckers stick firm, before the cutter begins a
clockwise motion, turning a full 360 degrees until it slices right
through the pane and creates a hole big enough for me to slide my
slim frame inside.

In I go, passing my bag through the gap and then
slipping through like a snake. The sound of the wind follows me
inside through the hole, the air inside the palatial mansion cool and
feeling as old as the stone walls.

I'm in a small study, dusty and clearly rarely used. I
know, from my studies of the blueprints, that I need to make it
across to the east wing. I creep out through the door, which creaks
and groans and sounds as loud as a passing train in the darkness.

The place is almost pitch black and feels oppressive, as
if horrible things once happened here long ago. It's an old mansion,
built more than a century ago, and nothing like some of the other
modern estates I've infiltrated. This one feels more authentic, like
something you'd see on an historic tour of Europe.

From my bag, I slip a pair of night vision goggles. They
turn the world green, and direct my sight down the corridor, through
several large adjoining halls and rooms, and finally to the reason
for my visit.

The library.

It's a large, sprawling space, with bookcases covering
all of the walls and rising high up toward the ceiling. To reach the
highest books, there's a stepladder that's attached to a rail that
runs along the base of the bookcases.

But I'm not interested in the millions of pages of
accumulated knowledge and fiction. No. There's something far more
valuable that interests me, hidden in a place I might never have
thought to look if I didn't already know it was there.

To the left wall, hidden behind several thick, old,
books about the history of accounting, is a small safe. Without
knowing where it was, it would take hours, and a heavy dose of luck,
to discover its whereabouts.

But I do know.

Quietly, but quickly, I remove the books and set my eyes
on the safe. It's rudimentary by modern standards, opened using a
simple four number pass code on the number pad on the front.

With a quick switch of the display on my goggles, the
sight of four finger prints begins to shine up from the electronic
pad – 2, 5, 6, and 9.

That gives me 24 possible permutations of the digits.
Within only a few moments, I've worked my way through them and
managed to find the right sequence – 5962.