The Taming of the Thief (8 page)

 
   
“I would really like that,” Sophie surprised
herself and Pietr from the quick look he shot her way. She set her mug aside
and rose, smoothing down the robe. She didn't like feeling frumpy, but it
couldn't be helped and an absolute lack of judgment in Lady Katherine's
expression.

 
   
“Wonderful. I'll have my valet call around
and get us reservations somewhere or we could dine at Papa's apartment or
Pietr's for that matter. Doesn't Maxwell keep an apartment here?”

 
   
“Yes, but he doesn't keep
a staff and I wasn't sure how long we were staying.
How about you let me
make the arrangements and I'll call your valet to set up a time?” Pietr touched
a hand to Katherine's elbow, nudging her along towards the door.

 
   
“Hmm,” Katherine paused and turned to look
at Sophie. Sophie could see amusement flirting around the woman's mouth and had
to smother a chuckle at the woman's conspiratorial wink. “You know Pietr, one
might guess that you want to make the arrangements yourself so you could just
happen to get too busy to actually plan a supper. You wouldn't be trying to
keep Sophie to yourself would you?”

 
   
“Katherine,” Pietr's exhale spoke of worn
down patience. “I am not sure of our plans.”

 
   
“I'll make sure he calls,” Sophie found herself
offering and didn't bother to hide the grin when Katherine clapped her hands
together or the grimace that swam across Pietr's face. He really didn't want to
go to dinner with the Lady Katherine.

 
   
“I adore her, Pietr.” Katherine turned to
pat Pietr's cheek. “You take very good care of her and Sophie darling, Papa's
apartment is at the Trump Tower, so even if Pietr is a dreadful boy and tries
to keep you away,
don't
hesitate to call. We could go
shopping and lunch while the bankers do their golf.”

 
   
“I'll do that.” Sophie laughed. “It was
lovely to meet you, Lady Katherine.”

 
   
“Oh dear, do call me Kit. The men must stand
on platitudes and protocol, but you and I shall be famous friends. I just know
it.” She planted a quick kiss on Pietr's cheek and blew out of the hotel suite
with the same force she'd blown in with.

 
   
Sophie burst out laughing at Pietr's
expression as he leaned against the closed door.

 
   
“I like her.”

 
   
“Everyone usually does. She's a bit of a
force to be reckoned with that one.”

 
   
“Are you lovers?'
Sophie clapped her hand over her mouth. It was beyond none of her business, but
the intimacy with which Katherine treated Pietr was too tangible to be ignored.

 
   
“Hardly.”
Pietr
pushed away from the door and stalked across the room towards her. His hands
slid up her arms to cup her face and Sophie knew she should pull away, she
should step back,
she
should do anything but stare up
into his eyes.

 
   
“She seemed to know you rather well,” Sophie
swallowed. Her mouth was dry and her voice came out huskier than she intended.

 
   
“Her father and my aunt are related. We've
seen each other on and off through the years. But we've never crossed the line
towards lovers, despite breaking my heart.” Pietr's fingers were doing a
wonderful job of soothing and teasing her at the same time. He stroked up to
her throat and then followed the line of the robe where it gaped over her
chest.

 
   
“Pietr, I'm sorry.” She closed the space
between them and wrapped her arms around him. The desire to comfort him drowned
out the spark of jealousy at his sober admission.

 
   
“As was I,” he sighed and dropped his face
into the crook of her neck. His breath warmed the juncture of her throat and
shoulder blade. The robe slipped, but she didn't want to push him away to fix
her clothes. He'd been nothing but kind to her, how could she be any less?

 
   
Sophie tried to ignore the hard heat of him
where it pressed against her, but she couldn't help feeling the muscles under
the silkiness of his shirt. His height seemed to dwarf her, and his hands were
still roaming against her back, stroking her through the robe.

 
   
When his shoulders shook, Sophie bit her
lip. Grown men weren't supposed to cry. Had Katherine truly stampeded his
heart? Had Sophie hurt him further when she agreed to meet the Lady even as
Pietr had tried to get them out of the invitation?

 
   
Guilt twisted her stomach.
“Pietr?”

 
   
“Yes?” The word vibrated against her throat,
teasing her and heat surged through her belly.

 
   
Disgust joined guilt. She wanted to rub
against him like a cat, his nearness affecting her libido. When his shoulders
shook again, she dug her fingers into his back, hugging him tighter. What kind
of a woman was she? She wanted to take away his pain, obliterate it with
pleasure.

 
   
“What can I do?” Anything to ease the
shaking of his shoulders, his whole body practically vibrated with it now.

 
   
Pietr turned his face from her throat
towards the robe on her shoulder. She twisted as his teeth sank into the
fabric, the action tugging at it even as he shook.

 
   
“Pietr?”

 
   
The sound that drifted up wasn't that of a
sob. Sophie pulled away, grabbing at her robe as it threatened to go with
Pietr. He released her and looked at her with mirth, not tears, swimming in his
eyes.

 
   
Sophie frowned. “Just how long ago did Lady
Katherine break your heart?”

 
   
“Primary school.”
He grinned and irritation popped the soap bubble of her sympathy. His grin grew
wider when Sophie growled. She planted her hands against his chest and gave him
a shove.

 
   
“Bastard.”

 
   
Pietr backed away, hands up and warm
masculine laughter erupting out of his throat. “I am so sorry, darling Sophie.
But you were so sweet and gentle in your concern…”

 
   
“So you just thought you'd play me?” She
fought the smile that wanted to grow at his laughter, particularly when he struggled
to contain it.

 
   
“What can I say? You make me want to be a
bad boy. Shall I let you spank me?”

 
   
Heat speared her at the offer. She'd not let
her hands drift down to where his shirt tucked into his pants, but now that
he'd conjured that image, she wanted to.

 
   
“Sophie?” His voice deepened, his accent
lilting the soft syllables of her name. The smile eased away from his lips, his
expression sobering. “Lady Katherine and I are not now nor have we ever been
lovers. I promise.”

 
   
Sophie stared silently, her heart popping at
her ribs. Heat pooled in her stomach. He was a damn good-looking man, a fact he
seemed well aware of. Charm practically swirled in the air around him. She'd
liked holding him, too.

 
   
Pietr watched her, the embers of amusement
dying in his eyes. “I am sorry if I offended you.” Utter sincerity coated each
word and Sophie tilted her head, considering.

 
   
“You know what I want?” She slid forward a
step. Pietr went completely still. The playful schoolboy replaced by a very
real, very desirable and very gorgeous man. Sophie tipped her head back, gazing
up at him and letting some of the heat seep into her gaze. “Do you know what I
really, really want?” She whispered.

 
   
“Yes?” He angled his head toward her, his
gaze dropping from her eyes to her lips.

 
   
“Food.”
Sophie
winked and all but flounced to her chair.

 
   
“
Et tu brute
.”
Pietr laughed.
“
Et tu
.”

 
   
Pietr finally ushered her from the hotel
into the waiting limousine a little before noon. She wore rich, earthy brown
slacks with a soft caramel colored silk top. The clothes were delivered during
her second shower along with a peach colored pair of panties and a barely there
bra. The exact sizing had been unnerving, as had the sheer comfort of the silk
under things next to her skin. She wanted to leave early, but Pietr insisted
she sleep and somehow, plied with food and Pietr's laughter, she'd done exactly
that.

 
   
“Sophie, this is Jacques. Jacques, this is
Sophie.” Pietr introduced her to the driver. Jacques was a small man, his faintly
balding head just barely coming up to Sophie's in her black pumps.

 
   
“
Mademoiselle
.”
Jacques nodded politely, but his eyes never
quite stopped roving the street. He angled his body towards her until she
climbed into the luxurious comfort of the limo's back seat.

 
   
“Thank you.” Sophie shifted over on the seat
as Pietr's larger frame slid in next to her, but instead of staying on his side
of the limo, he followed her over until his leg brushed against hers.

 
   
“We'll go to your apartment first and then
to the museum, yes?” Pietr asked, despite the plan having already been decided
in the hotel suite. She'd insisted on the need to go to work, particularly
after her abrupt departure the day before and Pietr had acquiesced when she
threatened to take the subway rather than wait for him.

 
   
“Yes, thank you.” Her gaze slipped to where
his leg rested against hers. The warmth of him was far from uncomfortable, in
fact, it made her think of the way he'd held her the night before and how heat
had suffused each part of her body.

 
   
Just thinking about it made her flush.

 
   
“Sophie, this can all wait. I can have
someone inventory your apartment and we can slip away for a few days, Bermuda?
Fiji? Spain?” It wasn't the first time he'd made the suggestion, but Sophie shook
her head.

 
   
“I have a job, Pietr. My boss is probably
apoplectic that I haven't finished the catalog verification for the exhibit
and…” She hesitated. Her next words were not kind and despite how off balance
she'd felt the night before, seven hours of sleep had gone a long way towards
restoring her good sense.

 
   
“And?”
Pietr
prompted her, his shoulder bumping hers lightly as the limousine snaked out
into New York's traffic and despite the proliferation of yellow cabs in the
neighborhood and tour buses, the honks were muted by the limousine's sturdy
construction.

 
   
Sophie sighed. “You've been nothing but kind
to me, but I don't really know you well enough to be jetting around the world
with you.”

 
   
“So it's not a no, it's just a not right
now.” Pietr nodded, a grin twinkling around the corners of his mouth. “I can
work with that.”

 
   
“Do you take anything seriously?”

 
   
“Unfortunately.”

 
   
Sophie shook her head. Everything about
Pietr was outrageous from his clothing to his comfort with wealth to his cheerful,
almost boylike attitude towards life. He was the same man who'd pulled her out
of danger, shielded her with his own body and then stood by her like a rock
during hours of questioning.

 
   
 
Yet
here she rode in a car with him, having spent the night in his hotel suite and
despite the promise of passion in his kiss, he'd acted the gentleman and kept
his distance. Her lips tingled at the thought of the soft sweep of his lips as
they'd touched hers, the strength of his body where it pressed against hers and
the rippling desire to strip away the clothing separating them.

 
   
“What are you thinking about?” Pietr's voice
dragged her back to the present. He was close enough that the whisper of his
words seemed loud.