by Elle Kennedy
“But . . . how?”
She maneuvered through the software, slightly distracted as she rattled off a quick explanation. “Any vehicle that relies on software to provide security can be circumvented by other software. Which means that any idiot with a laptop and the right program can wirelessly break into a vehicle’s computer, unlock the doors, and start the engine. With only a few keystrokes, no less.” She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “Car theft has come a long way since the old hot-wiring days.”
“I still don’t believe that you can simply log into some program and—”
Purrrrr.
The roar of an engine coming to life brought another smile to her lips and sent Ethan’s jaw to the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
Juliet shut the laptop but shoved a pen between the cover and keyboard so it didn’t close fully—she needed the software to keep running. Then she tucked the computer in its case and got to her feet.
On the other side of the street, the Porsche continued to purr, as if trying to lure them toward it.
“Hold on, kitten. We’re coming,” she murmured.
Next to her, Ethan was now laughing softly. He fell into step with her as they crossed the slush-ridden street. Very few people were up and about, and nobody paid them any attention as they made their way to the expensive sports car.
Juliet spared a quick glance at the Grenadier, then approached the driver’s side of the sleek silver machine. The car’s plate number had been registered to a Mr. Ivan Gorbenko. Ha. Maybe Gorbenko would now think twice before the words sugar tits left that arrogant mouth of his.
As she reached for the door handle, her heart pounded, a familiar thump-thump that drummed in her ears and reminded her of that rainy night in Chicago when she’d stolen her very first car. Didn’t matter how many times she’d done it since. Each boost always felt like the first.
Taking a breath, Juliet pulled on the handle. The door opened easily, and the engine continued to hum, causing the pavement beneath her boots to vibrate.
“We’re good,” she announced before sliding into the pristine leather interior of the Porsche.
The passenger’s door opened and Ethan settled in beside her. He twisted around to toss their gear in the backseat, then turned to look at her, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement.
“You are scarily good at this.”
She shrugged. “What, boosting cars? Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re really something—you know that?”
“Duh. Why do you think I have men falling at my feet?” She pressed her right foot on the gas pedal and sped away from the curb, then let out a dreamy sigh. “Lord, this car handles like a dream.”
It had been a while since she’d driven such a powerful machine, and she was loving every second of it as she smoothly switched into third gear and left the Grenadier and Gorbenko in their proverbial dust.
“Seriously, though, how did you get so good at this shit?” Ethan asked.
“Practice.”
“C’mon, tell me how you became a master thief. The curiosity is killing me.”
She rolled her eyes, but when she saw his face, she realized he was actually being sincere. “You want to trade life stories? Is that it?”
He flashed her that boyish smile. “Yep.”
She was starting to suspect he did that deliberately. Offered a cute, disarming smile in a calculated attempt to get his way.
“C’mon,” he said again, coaxing her with his sexy, husky voice. “Indulge me.”
• • •
Ethan knew he was chipping away at Juliet’s defenses—he’d noticed the change in her ever since yesterday’s mind-blowing kiss. She was less guarded around him, which was made obvious by her willingness to talk about herself now.
“Fine, I’ll tell you all about it.” She tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder, keeping her eyes on the road. “Consider this Juliet 101.”
“I’ll make sure to take thorough notes,” he said with a grin.
“You want to know how I started boosting cars, huh? It’s pretty straightforward. I was fifteen years old and living on the streets. I had to eat.”
“So you just woke up one day and decided to steal a car to pay for food?”
“Nah, I started out smaller than that. Panhandling, running cons to score some cash. But then I met this guy who had a sweet deal going with a couple of the chop shops in the city.” She shifted gears and slowed down to get on the highway ramp. “The two of us became friends, and I tagged along with him on a few jobs. He taught me how to hot-wire, how to jimmy a car open, how to use certain software to break into those early keyless systems. Eventually he introduced me to the guys he boosted cars for, and they decided to give me a shot.”
“They didn’t care that you were just a kid?”
“They preferred it that way. Hardly anyone over eighteen worked for them. That way, if one of their boosters got busted, they’d be tried as minors, and usually you’d get off with a slap on the wrist.” Bitterness crept into her voice. “Not me, though. I was hauled off to juvie.”
His brows shot up. “You got caught?”
“One of the other boosters sold me out,” she muttered. “Left me hanging out to dry in order to save his sorry ass. And since I used to be a belligerent bitch—”
“Used to be?”
“Fine, still am. But yeah, I foolishly mouthed off to the cops, and they slapped the cuffs on me.” She switched gears again to zoom ahead of a slow-moving van, then reassumed the posted speed limit.
She was smart, Ethan noted. She followed each and every traffic law, knowing not to attract unwanted attention when driving a stolen car, which he appreciated.
In fact, he appreciated a lot of things about Juliet Mason. Her sharp intelligence. Her fearlessness. Her smoking-hot body . . .
Yeah, he definitely held that particular attribute in high regard.
Shit, he was getting hard again. Seemed like he couldn’t control himself around her. He was dying to kiss her again, to feel her lush lips pressed against his and her warm tongue delving into his mouth, but he hadn’t been kidding about taking things slow. He preferred getting to know a woman before he tore her clothes off.
“I spent a year in juvie,” Juliet continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “It actually wasn’t too bad. I met some interesting girls—my roommate was the most talented pickpocket I’ve ever met, even to this day. She taught me a few tricks. And this other girl could forge any signature she saw—that was a fun tutorial too. Anyway, I got out just before I turned eighteen, my juvenile record was sealed, and I decided to go straight.”
He snickered. “How long did that last?”
She sighed. “A few months. Truth is, I loved the rush I got from stealing.”
“I’m sure the innocent people you stole from would be happy to hear you got a rush out of it,” he said sarcastically.
“Nah, I’d developed somewhat of a conscience by then,” she admitted. “Before I got busted, I didn’t care who I stole from. I boosted cars because my survival depended on it. But once I made a conscious choice to steal for a living, I developed a code, kind of like a list of rules I forced myself to follow. Number one on the list was never to steal from anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
“A thief with a moral code.” Ethan laughed. “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t come up with that idea all by yourself?”
“Fine,” she grumbled. “Henry might have had something to do with it. He knew about the cars, but once he realized I was staying in the game, he made me promise not to take advantage of good people. I kept that promise, for the most part. And once I moved away from cars and graduated to other types of merchandise, I didn’t exactly need to worry about hurting innocents. When you’re dealing in jewels or art or corporate secrets, you
usually find that the people you’re stealing from are bigger criminals than you are.”
“Jewels, art, and corporate secrets,” he echoed, oddly impressed. “You really did move on to bigger scores.”
“I’m nothing if not ambitious.”
She laughed, and the melodic sound washed over him like a sultry summer breeze. Her laugh was damn contagious, so carefree and full of life.
“Anyway, I moved around after that, chasing the next big score. I made a lot of valuable contacts, developed a reputation for being the person to call if you wanted to acquire something important.” Her voice became wry. “Alas, I got too ambitious. It wasn’t about the money for me—I had plenty of it by then. It was about the thrill, the challenge of breaking into a place that people considered impenetrable, or stealing something that was rumored to be unstealable. Eventually I caught the attention of Interpol, so I had to pull a disappearing act. That’s when I crossed paths with Noelle.”
“And went from thief to assassin.” He frowned. “It doesn’t bother you, killing for a living?”
“I’ve got a code, remember? I only eliminate bad guys.”
Ethan grew thoughtful. He was unbelievably intrigued by this woman. Sometimes he forgot how deadly she was, probably because her beauty distracted him from the fact that she killed people for a living.
And yet he knew there had to be more to her than that.
“So, what do you do for fun?” he asked. “You know, when you’re not robbing someone blind or blowing his head off.”
She grinned. “I do whatever gets my blood flowing. Skydiving, bungee jumping, zip-lining. A few years ago I pretended to be an Italian heiress just for the hell of it, and hooked up with this rich playboy who was into yacht racing. He let me crew for him when he ran the Newport Bermuda Race. It was awesome. And after I left Monaco last year I took a couple of weeks off and went on a safari. I had a blast. Have you ever seen a lion up close? Those things are freaking terrifying.”
The excitement in her voice made him laugh. “You lead an exciting life,” he teased.
“Ha, and you don’t, Mr. Globe-Trotting Mercenary?”
“True,” he conceded. “But when I’m off rotation, I don’t do anything nearly as exciting as what you described. I usually just hang around the compound. Shoot pool with the guys, poker games, target practice.”
“Bo-ring. Clearly I need to take you under my wing, rookie. We’ll go BASE jumping off Everest sometime.”
He burst out laughing again. “Most people want to climb Everest, and you want to jump off it.”
“Bigger thrill,” she answered with a shrug.
It didn’t surprise him that she viewed it that way. He also wasn’t surprised to discover that Juliet was a daredevil.
But that wasn’t enough. He needed to know more. Needed to stockpile every last detail he could about her, like a squirrel storing food for the winter. Because who knew when he’d get her to open up again?
Unfortunately, they were nearing their destination, prompting Juliet to snap into business mode.
“Anastacia lives with her father, but she’s not homeschooled. Paige said the kid attends a superwealthy private school not far from the house.”
House ended up being a complete understatement. Ethan couldn’t believe his eyes when the prime minister’s palatial estate came into view. The property behind the tall, wrought-iron gate was unbelievable, set on acres of open land with endless gardens that looked impressive even when covered in snow. The baroque-style architecture of the main house was breathtaking, consisting of a central building with two enormous wings, and a large courtyard enclosed by a stunning colonnade.
Despite the estate’s sheer beauty, Ethan immediately saw the problem it posed for them. No other houses for miles on either side of the estate, and so much open land it would be impossible to find a place to hunker down without being spotted. Unless they parked right in front of the massive gates, there was nowhere for them to covertly observe the house.
“Shit,” Juliet murmured.
“My thoughts exactly.”
She startled him by pulling onto the shoulder of the road mere yards from the gate, flicking on the emergency blinkers as she parked the Porsche.
“What are you doing?”
She seemed to be chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Thinking. Bring up Google Maps on your iPhone. If one of the guards in the security booth comes out to investigate, we’ll say we’re lost. Pretend we’re heading north to Vitebsk or something.”
Ethan did as she asked, all the while studying her face. “There’s no way we can stake out this place without being detected.”
“I know.” She paused. “We need to bug the house.”
A laugh popped out. “Good one.”
“It’s the only way. If we don’t have eyes on the house, we need to at least try to get ears inside of it.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” His gaze drifted back to the Karin property. “Paige said Karin’s staff and secret service agents live on the estate. Breaking in would be a suicide mission.”
She let out an annoyed curse. “I agree.”
“But Anastacia has to go to school,” he said slowly. “We can follow her every morning, watch her at school, and follow her home every night.”
“You think the wealthy private school her daddy sends her to will be any less guarded?” Juliet shook her head in frustration. “No. We can still tail her to and from school, but we need to bug that house, damn it.”
Ethan knew she was right. If they wanted to keep Anastacia Karin safe from Orlov’s hit squad, they needed to maintain constant surveillance on the girl.
He grew thoughtful again. “You think Paige can get her hands on the house blueprints?”
“Maybe. But knowing the layout won’t make a lick of difference without an assessment of the security protocol. I bet the entire place is teeming with motion detectors and heat sensors, not to mention a heavy-duty alarm system.”
“I’m sure we can find a way to breach the place. It’s just going to take time,” he said grimly. “This kind of operation requires an insane amount of prep. And manpower—we’d definitely have to bring in some reinforcements if we go through with it.”
“First things first, we need a detailed evaluation of their security . . .” She trailed off, her brown eyes narrowing as she focused on the rearview mirror.
Ethan heard the gate open at the same time she did, a mechanical whir that echoed in the frigid morning air. A moment later, a white van drove through the gate, bearing a Russian logo that Ethan couldn’t read.
“Jackpot.” Juliet’s lips curved in a smile. “They use a private cleaning service. Maybe I can impersonate a maid and get inside that way.” She quickly grabbed her phone from her jacket pocket and moved her fingers over the touch screen.
“Wait a sec—we’ve got another vehicle. Actually, make that two.”
This time a pair of black town cars emerged from the gate, but he couldn’t make out the drivers or passengers, thanks to heavily tinted windows.
“Follow them,” he ordered. “The girl could be in one of those cars.”
“Yes, sir.” Juliet dropped the phone in her lap and skillfully steered the Porsche back onto the road.
Ethan continued to evaluate the cars, which were several yards ahead of them. “The windows look armored. If she’s in there, at least she’s well protected.”
“Bulletproof windows are useless once she steps out of the car, rookie. They won’t protect her from a sniper who wants to blow her brains out.”
A red BMW came up behind them, and Juliet purposely allowed it to pass so they were no longer directly behind the town cars.
“All right, let’s see where they go,” she said. “Hopefully the kid is getting dropped off at school, which means she’ll be occupied for the next eight hours or
so. And while she’s solving math problems and reading Shakespeare or whatever it is ninth-graders read, we can brainstorm solutions to our little bug dilemma.”
Ethan glanced over. “I’m open to any and all ideas.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll come up with something. But first we need to ditch the Porsche. It’s too conspicuous.”
“Let me guess. It’s time to steal another car.”
She turned to him with an impish smile. “Yup. And if you’re nice to me, I might even let you drive it.”
“Gee, that’s very generous of you.”
“I thought so.” She sighed. “Now, put on your thinking cap so we can figure out a way to bug the prime minister’s house.”
Chapter 10
“I don’t understand. Why isn’t he coming back tonight?” Anastacia Karin heard the plaintive note in her voice, but was unable to control it as she glared accusingly at Nina.
The elegant blond woman had the decency to look repentant. “I’m afraid he got delayed in Moscow, little dove. But your father is so very upset that he can’t come home yet. He wanted me to tell you that he’ll make it up to you when he returns. He said he’ll take you out to the fanciest restaurant in the city for your birthday.”
Stacie locked her jaw, doing her best to keep the tears at bay. She didn’t know why she was even surprised. Her dad never kept his promises. She was stupid for believing his promise that he’d wrap up his business trip in time to come home for her birthday.
She was turning sixteen tomorrow. All of her friends had pleaded with her to throw a lavish party to celebrate, but she knew they didn’t really care about her birthday. They just wanted to visit her house so they could brag to everyone that they’d been there. But Stacie wasn’t permitted to bring friends home—it was a security risk, as her father frequently reminded her.
Even though she was allowed go to her friends’ houses, she rarely ever did because she knew her bodyguards made her friends and their parents uncomfortable. It was impossible for anyone to feel at ease when Roman and Mikhail were constantly looming over her.
“Stacie?”