He sniffs and coughs, looking like he may choke on his spit as he goes to the safe and turns the dial.
His pride is his downfall. He could never stop boasting about his wealth and how many diamonds he kept in his safe. Luckily for him, I’m not interested in horses or a house on the beach, or those things he bragged about would’ve been next on my list.
“Take everything out,” I say. “Pack it on the desk.”
With tremulous hands, he places velvet bags on his desk. The desk is large, no doubt making up for what Mint is missing in size.
“Open them,” I say.
He opens the strings of the bags, letting the gemstones spill onto the polished surface of the wood until there’s a colorful array of emeralds, rubies, sapphires, tanzanites, and my prize—diamonds. There must be at least a hundred stones of different cuts and sizes, all ready to be set into rings for women who are worthy of being wives and mothers.
“Hand over the diamonds,” I order.
He shoves the stones back into the bag, draws the strings, and gives it to me. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Thank you,” I say, blowing him a kiss as I shove the bag into my back pocket.
I know this office well enough to know there’s only one landline. Mint invited me up for more than one cup of coffee to show off his worth. It’s a pity there’s nothing of worth in his heart. I bet the same goes for what’s in his pants.
I point at the phone. “Pull out the cord and give it to me.”
He does so fuming a little more but not showing less fear.
“Now your cell phone,” I say when he’s handed me the cord.
He takes his phone from his desk and puts it in my outstretched palm. I pocket the phone and the telephone cable.
I motion with the gun toward the security monitor on his desk. “Give me the camera recording.”
“I can’t,” he says in a tremulous voice. “There’s no disk. The recording is rooted to my laptop.”
That’s easy then. I kick the monitor with my heel, sending it crashing to the floor.
Jumping out of the way as glass shatters next to him, he yells, “What the fuck?”
“Take your laptop,” I order.
He picks it up gingerly.
“Throw it out of the window.”
His lips part. He gapes at me before saying in a hysterical voice, “I’ve got work on here, stuff I can’t recover.”
Stepping over the broken monitor, I push the barrel against his crown jewels. “Need some motivation?”
A trickle of sweat runs down his temple. “Fuck. Okay.” He opens the window with one hand, pinches his eyes shut, and throws out the laptop.
A dull thud and a scream sounds from the street. It’s at the back of the building, on the side Ian isn’t watching.
“Hey, watch out, moron!” a man yells.
“Tell him you have anger issues,” I say.
Mint sticks his head through the window. “Sorry. The laptop gave me problems. I lost my cool.”
“Fucking twat,” the man calls. “It could’ve been on my head.”
“I’m sorry,” Mint says again. “Hey! Hey, tell that guy to leave my laptop.”
“You dumped it,” the man says. “If it’s trash, the beggars have a right to take off with it.”
Mint pulls his head back into the room. “He stole my laptop. Now look what you’ve done. Do you have any idea how much work I lost?”
I click my tongue. “You should’ve just given me a thousand bucks.”
Sweeping an arm over the desk, I send green, blue, red, and purple stones flying. They shoot into all corners and rain down on every surface and the floor.
Crying out, Mint falls on his knees, crawling after the gemstones that roll in every direction.
Leaving him to fuss over the spillage, I exit, lock the door, and pull out the key. Quietly, I make my way downstairs. The coast is clear. I make a detour to the bathroom and flush the key down the toilet. After holstering my gun, I make my way outside.
Olga is nowhere in sight. Ian is still leaning on his post across the road. He straightens when he sees me. His gaze is fixed on my face. It grows watchful as he scrutinizes me. Tension rolls off his shoulders, but as always, he keeps a handle on it, his expression giving away nothing but eternal wakefulness and calm.
“How did it go?” he asks when I stop in front of him.
“We have a few minutes before the shit hits the fan.”
His posture turns even more rigid. “What did you do?”
“Sent Wolfe a message,” I say, walking past him to the truck.
I haven’t made it a step when a strong hand on my bicep halts my progress. Yanking me around, he pulls me flush against him. My chest collides with his. Surprise rushes through me. The act is unexpected, catching me off guard. Arousal flares inside me. My desire lurks in my body like a thief in the night. Unwelcome and outcast, it hides in the shadows. With my guard being down, it found an open door to creep through. Banished like something dirty and wrong, it’s always crawling, watching … waiting for a crack to slither through.
I haven’t felt this kind of arousal in a year. It’s the kind that flushes my whole body with heat and sets my pulse racing. My nipples harden, my breasts turn heavy, and everything between my legs turns wet and swollen. The seal on my emotions lifted when I spilled my tears, but having a sex drive again can’t only be accounted to liberating my feelings. My body stirred at the bar already, long before I cried myself dry in Ian’s arms. It’s got less to do with purging and everything with one man.
Ian Hart.
The man who will forever own my heart.
It’s not the moment. I have a bag full of diamonds and a stolen phone in my pockets, not to mention the gun in my holster, yet I turn even wetter when he yanks me against his hard-on and says in a gravelly voice, “Where do you think you’re going?”
I blink. “I locked Mint in his office, but his shop assistant may return at any moment.”
He seems oblivious to what I’ve said as he grips my face in a big hand, digs his fingers into my cheeks, and kisses me in the middle of the street. He kisses me, chasing my tongue and drinking my air like we’re the only people there. In a wink, I’m swept away. I’m back in Victoria Falls in an alley and the man who kisses me is everything I want him to be. Other people’s unhealthy is our norm. A libido other men found overactive is normal for Ian. He doesn’t see the prize between my legs. He sees me.
I’m breathless when he lets me go.
A sexy smile curves his lips. “You didn’t think I’d let you get away without that kiss?”
I push the hair from my face. “What was that all about?”
His dark eyes flash. Danger. The joy of finding. The fear of losing. He doesn’t have to say a word. I get it by just looking at him. It’s the adrenaline. It’s what’s on the line—our freedom, our lives.
It’s not the moment.
Spinning on my heel, I hurry to the truck. He gets the door for me and goes around to take the wheel. I peel off the gloves and drop them in my bag as he starts the engine. The tires don’t squeal as he pulls out of the parking. He sticks to the speed limit. With his arm resting in his open window, he drives as if we have no cares in the world. The set of his jaw is hard, and he keeps an eye on the rearview mirror. Other than that, he displays no distress.