The Taming of the Thief (14 page)

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Authors: Heather Long

BOOK: The Taming of the Thief
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“Mr. Kingston, you're worried about Sophie
and to be honest, so am I.”

 
   
“Don't you dare…

Sophie began, but Pietr stroked a hand soothingly down her arm to capture her
hand.

 
   
“You're damn right I am.”

 
   
“Well so am I. Sophie already agreed to take
the adjoining room in my suite where my security can watch out for her and I'll
be bringing in as many men as necessary until this is sorted out.”

 
   
“Good.”

 
   
“What?” Sophie swung her head around to look
at her father.

 
   
“She's too stubborn for her own good
sometimes. Gets an idea in her head and worries it like a dog with an old bone,
even when she should trade it in for something better.” Her father, the
traitor, gave Pietr a sympathetic look.

 
   
“I adore her stubbornness.” Pietr's grin
erased any sting from his words. “It just makes me work harder.”

 
   
“All right, Sophie-girl, you behave yourself
and do what Sauvage's security men ask of you. I'll keep my boot on Bryant's
backside to get this solved.” Her father tugged her away from Pietr and gave
her a hard hug. “I'll take care of your mother, too. What she doesn't know
right now, she doesn't have to worry herself sick over. Understood?”

 
   
“Yes, sir.”
She
squeezed her father and closed her eyes. She wanted to ask him to stay and not
go, but if this nonsense really was a threat, she didn't want him in the middle
of it. “Love you, Daddy.”

 
   
“Love you too baby girl.” He
bussed
her cheek with a quick kiss, an overt affection he
didn't generally bestow and focused his attention on Pietr, one arm still
securely around Sophie.

 
   
“You take care of my daughter Sauvage or
your life won't be worth living.”

 
   
“You have my word.” Pietr nodded solemnly.

 
   
Sophie gave her father another kiss and then
he left, the door closing behind him.

 
   
“Your father had me investigated long before
he came to see you.” Pietr observed, hitching a hip to sit on the corner of her
desk.

 
   
“You think so?” Despite how outlandish the
idea sounded, it actually fit her father's personality. He didn't like leaving
anything to chance.

 
   
“It's what I would have done. He just came
down to make sure you were all right and to get a solid look at me.”

 
   
“Then why did you lie to him? Oof.” Sophie's
path around the desk to her chair was interrupted by Pietr's arm snaking around
her and pulling her up against him, his thigh bumping against her hip.

 
   
“I didn't lie to him.” Pietr's fingers
spread along her hips, as though testing their shape. His dipped his head and
nuzzled her throat.

 
   
“Stop that,” she slapped him lightly on the
shoulder, but didn't pull away. “And yes you did.”

 
   
He lifted his head, reluctance etched into
his expression. “No, I didn't.”

 
   
“You told him I agreed to help you with your
project and that you were donating money to an art project of my choosing. And
you told him you hired security for me.”

 
   
“I did.” Pietr brushed her nose with his and
then pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her right eye. “Did you know
this twitches
when you're angry?”

 
   
“When did you hire security? And you
shouldn't do that.” She shifted, trying to take a step back, but only managed
to throw herself off balance. Pietr's hands tightened, steadying her and
pulling her closer, ignoring her demand as his mouth traced a line of soft
kisses to her ear.

 
   
“Last night and shouldn't do what?” His
punctuated the words with a playful tug on her earlobe.

 
   
Heat unfurled in her core, spreading through
her body and stung her cheeks. She stiffened her spine, steeling herself to
meet his gorgeous eyes. She sank her fingers into his hair, pulling him away
from her ear before she lost what was left of her good sense.

 
   
“Stop trying to seduce me.”

 
   
“Hmm,” Pietr cocked his head to the side, a
smile flirting at the corner of her mouth. “No.”
 
“What?”

 
   
“I said, no.”

 
   
“Pietr!”
Exasperation threading through her voice and made it squeak. Did he even listen
to her? His eyes were narrowed, but his gaze refused compromising as he looked
at her.

 
   
 
“I
did not lie to your father, Sophie. I have extensive resources and security. I
will keep you safe. You can help me or not as you like with the research, but I
will still donate whatever amount you wish to whatever project or projects you
desire.” He leaned in close, forehead to forehead. “And no, I will not stop
trying to seduce you.”

 
   
 
His
unflinching conviction struck sparks deep within her soul. Sliding her hands
down to cup his face, the faint brush of stubble on his cheeks teased her
fingertips. She canted her head to the side.

 
   
 
She
recognized that she would kiss him, this time. The taste of him a heated memory
on her parted lips. Her eyes fluttered closed, anticipation unfurling within,
but instead of his lips, he pressed her mouth closed with two fingers.

 
   
Pietr released her to pull his phone out of
his pocket.

 
   
 
“I'm
sorry, I have to take this.” Genuine regret and a splash of humor colored his
words. He pressed a button on the phone and put it to his ear.
“Sauvage.”

 
   
 
Embarrassment, outrage and frustration clashed
within her. She pulled away, turning her back to smooth down her shirt and tuck
it back in. Too bad she couldn't do the same with her composure.

 
   
 
Or my heart
.

 
   
 
Sophie tried to block out Pietr's smooth tones
as he turned his back. He spoke in rapid French, the accent tickling her
senses. Awareness prickled along her skin had her casting glances at the line
of his back. Broad shoulders were confined in a well-cut suit. She knew from
experience the fabric was as soft as his chest and arms were hard.

 
   
 
He
didn't seem the type to spend a lot of time in the field, so she imagined him
sweating away with weights to build up his physique. Desire puddled in her
middle and exploded like lava through her system.

 
   
 
Imagining Pietr nude was not coduscive to her
equilibrium and when he turned to find her staring him, he lifted his brows in
question. Heat flooded her face and she dropped to sit at her desk and looked
at the stack of invoices and provenances she needed to approve.

 
   
 
Desperate for any distraction, her gaze
settled on the phone with its red light blinking.

 
   
 
Messages.

 
   
 
Yes,
messages would be good.

 
   
 
She
stole another look at Pietr, blushing harder at the knowing smile flirting with
his full, kissable lips.

 
   
 
“Messages, Sophie.
Messages.”
She muttered the words and picked up the phone, pointedly looking away from his
royal hotness and pressed the button for voicemail.

 
   
 
A
mechanical voice informed her she had six messages. She grabbed a pen and paper
and began jotting down notes. The first two simply confirmed shipments from the
Louvre were on their way and tracking information. The third was a call from
her mother reminding her she hadn't been by for dinner.

 
   
 
The
quiet hum of Pietr's silky accent caressed her ears, but she kept her gaze
determinedly on the paper in front of her. The fourth message came from a
Walter Curry, requesting that she return the call at her earliest possible
convenience in a clipped British accent. She jotted down the name and the
number.

 
   
 
Pietr's voice faded at the empty air of the
fifth message. She deleted it, but all the hair on her body rippled to
attention at the low, throaty French voice at the beginning of the sixth
message.

 
   
 
“I'm
sorry I missed you last night, Ms. Kingston, but trust me when I say that this
isn't over.”

Chapter Ten

 
   
 

 
   
 
P
ietr listened to Viktor's report with
only half of his attention, his gaze pinned to Sophie's flustered expression as
she made herself busy at her desk. It had taken every ounce of his will to
stifle the kiss she'd been about to offer him. His body tightened in rebellion,
urging him to drop the phone, lock the door and test the sturdiness of her
desk. Raw desire ate him alive.

 
   
 
“He
was leaving her office when I arrived at the museum. So I trailed him to the
Subway, but he's heading downtown, not uptown.”

 
   
 
“Stay
with him. Can you tell if he has her laptop?”

 
   
 
“No.
But he didn't belong in the secure
area,
he paid off
one of the security guards.”

 
   
 
“Are
you sure?” Pietr ignored Viktor's snort. The man wouldn't dignify the question
with an answer. Sophie's hands were on her desk phone. She made an attempt to
ignore him, but her gaze kept lingering on him.

 
   
 
The corner of Pietr's mouth quirked upward.
She tried to
manufacture a casual air, but awareness prickled between them, awareness that
wasn't going to go away just because a few feet separated them. He flicked his
gaze to the wall, needing to pay attention to Viktor's words, not the desire to
strip Sophie down to the silky brown and pink lace underthings he'd peeked
earlier.

 
   
 
His
ardor leapt eagerly at the concept, rasping along the inside of his skin. “What
about duMonde?”

 
   
 
Pietr
was proud that his voice remained even and steady. Eyes on the prize, he
admonished internally.

 
   
His gaze flicked back to Sophie.
What a prize, too
. He'd never found an
academic to be particularly attractive before, but her tousled hair and make-up
free face looked as though she had just rolled out of bed. The spark in her
eyes and the stubborn tilt of her chin drew him like lightning on a hot, stormy
night.

 
   
The prize of her safety would give him time
to explore this skin-quaking passion she aroused. White teeth sucking on her
lower lip shouldn't be erotic, but he wanted to feel those teeth pulling at his
lower lip, demanding satisfaction.

 
   
 
“Put
Jacques on him. I can't be in two places at once.”

 
   
 
“I
want one of you near Sophie at all times. Coordinate and bring in more men if
you need, too.”

 
   
 
“It'll cost.”

 
   
 
“I'll
pay it.”

 
   
 
And
he would. He wasn't losing track of Sophie. He'd watched not knowing a woman’s
name, where she was or even how to help rend Max inside out. He couldn't fathom
the depth of Max’s feelings for the little minx he'd snagged. But whatever it
was Sophie aroused in him, Pietr wouldn't follow in Max’s footsteps.

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