Stealing Valentine

by Faye, Madison

  Stealing Valentine

  Madison Faye

  Contents

  Mailing List

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Also by Madison Faye

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Copyright Notice

  Copyright © 2019 Madison Faye

  Cover: Coverlüv

  Photography: Sara Eirew

  Mailing List

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  Chapter 1

  Dutch

  “Well, well, well.”

  She gasps, whirling and her face going white as she spots me. Her green eyes flash, and I see her tense. I see that fight or flight instinct snap across her face, and my jaw tightens.

  “Uh-uh,” I growl lowly. I can see it in her eyes—that moment where she’s deciding whether or not she’s going to run for it.

  Not a smart idea.

  I’m betting I know exactly what she thinks she sees. She thinks she sees a pampered rich guy in a suit, like the rest of the assholes at this party. But, she’s wrong. She doesn’t know the hardened man under that polished exterior. She doesn’t know the fighting instinct I’ve got inside, the sharpened senses, the coiled muscles ready to pounce.

  Her eyes flick again, but this time, I see her take a breath. She tries to force a smile as she bats her eyes at me.

  “Oh, sorry, am I not supposed to be in—”

  “No, you’re not.” I growl.

  She fucking knows she’s not, too. But then, she’s not in here by accident. I’m not buying the innocent look, or the catering staff outfit she’s wearing. She looks too good, for one. She doesn’t look like she’s been on her feet all day serving cocktails and hors d’oeuvres to douchebags in suits. There’s not a lock of that gorgeous chestnut hair out of place on her head, and she’s in heels.

  Please. Catering staff don’t wear heels to work.

  I’m not buying any of it, which means she’s in here quite purposefully. And I know exactly why.

  …I know why, cause it’s the same damn reason I’m here.

  She smiles again, turning and leaning against the big, high-tech, highly secured display cabinet behind her—the one I’m betting she’s been trying to pick open, just like she’s cracked her way into this room, which was locked, by the way.

  She’s playing a dangerous game. And with me, she has no idea how dangerous it is.

  “No? Oh, well,” she smiles again, but those eyes of hers are darting around like trapped cat.

  She giggles flirtatiously. “I just came in looking for the ladies room, and all these pretty things on display—”

  “Pretty things like the Whistler necklace and earrings, specifically?”

  She freezes, swallowing thickly, and I can see her pulse beat quickly in the hollow of her neck.

  Fuck.

  The second I saw her when I stepped in here a second ago, I knew I was in trouble. It was instant, and looking at her now, it’s like I see the whole thing play out in the blink of an eye. I see her, and I know she’s going to be my ruin.

  My jaw clenches, and I can feel my pulse quickening, turning to a dull roar in my ears as my eyes lock on her.

  Damn, and she’s gorgeous.

  Long, tumbling brown locks of hair frame her stunningly beautiful face. Soft, pink lips. Big green eyes with dark smoky lashes. Her skirt is modest, brushing the backs of her knees as she turns on black stilettos. The sleeveless white blouse clings to her, hugging her slim waist, cupping the soft swell of her breasts. Fuck, the damn thing is buttoned all the way up to her throat like a freaking librarian, but it doesn’t matter.

  I look at her and I know she could be wearing a goddamn burlap sack and still be the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen.

  I can feel my blood turning hot, pulsing through me and making my jaw clench as just the sheer sight of her gets the beast inside of me roaring for more. My cock pulses in my dress pants against my thigh, throbbing as I drink her in. I swallow, my jaw grinding and my eyes locked right on her.

  Oh, she’s going to be trouble all right. And it’s not just that the sight of her has my muscles clenching, and my cock thickening between my thighs. It’s not just that I can imagine tearing those clothes off and crushing my lips to hers like a raw, primal need to lay my claim on her.

  …It’s that considering what’s at stake and what I’ve planned for the night, this is one twist I never saw coming.

  I’ve planned it all out. I’ve spent a year inserting myself into Cobalt Tech, pretending to be just another white-collar asshole like the rest of them. I’ve put the time in. I put off other, easier, faster jobs, because the payout for this one was going to mean an easy fucking life, for the rest of mine. Early retirement at thirty years old. Not fucking bad.

  Yeah, I’ve put up with all the insufferable assholes working at Cobalt. I’ve swallowed my bile and made friends with the douchebag at the top, Martin McCue—enough so, in fact, that he’s invited me to one of his “power-meeting” dinners at his Hamptons estate along with twenty or so other high-ranking employees and some of his family. On Valentine’s Day, for whatever asinine reason.

  But, I ain’t here for the steaks, or the expensive wine, or the nauseatingly boring conversations about future commodities trading. And I could give a shit about who’s buying what new car after this quarter’s bonuses. Well, except for the car I’m going to buy after this particular bonus. What I’m here for is shiny, covered in diamonds, once owned by Al Capone’s mistress, and currently owned by none other than Martin McCue.

  It also happens to be worth just north of two-hundred and forty million dollars, and it’s in this room. The Whistler necklace and matching earrings should be in that very display case she’s leaning against, too. But I can see even from here that the velvet stand it sits on is empty.

  You sneaky little brat.

  She’s got it. I don’t know how, but I know she has it. Every gut instinct I have says so.

  Making a scene is the last thing I want to do, but this tempting little tease just gave me no option. I don’t know who the fuck she is, but she just muscled in on the wrong job. I’ve worked too hard for this. I’ve put in way too much time to get my prize taken from right under my nose by this little brat.

  “Well, anyways,” she says offhandedly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head back downstairs before they serve dinner—”

  “The fuck you are.”

  I move fast, and the girl gasps as I grab one of her arms and yank her away from the door. She hisses, swearing at me as I drag her across the room towards Martin’s big wooden desk.

  “Dinner, huh?” I growl, my jaw clenched tight as I move in close. Our eyes lock, fire blazing between them as she snarls at me defiantly.

  We’ll see how defiant she is in a second.

  “Hand it over.”

  “Hand what—”

  “If you’re looking for a strip search,” I mutter under my breath. “Keep on playing this game.”

  Her face pales.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

 
; “Try me,” I hiss back, the beast inside of me roaring and raring to breaking free.

  Shit. I’m losing control of this situation. And I’m losing control of myself. Her body writhes under my grip, and my pulse thunders in my ears. She gasps, twisting against me, and my cock fucking throbs.

  “Three seconds,” I say tightly, my jaw tense and my muscles clenching.

  “Go fuck your—”

  “One.”

  Her brows shoot up, her eyes wide as she darts them over me, like she’s trying to figure out how serious I am.

  Spoiler: I’m two-hundred and forty million dollars’ worth of serious.

  “Two,” I growl.

  “I don’t have your stupid neck—”

  She bolts, taking me by surprise as she half breaks free of my grasp. I growl, my hand reaching for her again, but I miss her arm, and when my fingers hook into her shirt, right between the top two buttons, she gasps as the garment rips open. The top couple of buttons go scattering, and she cries out as she comes yanking right back into my arms.

  Holy shit.

  And there it is. Right there on her neck, hidden under that high-collared, buttoned-up shirt, and right above the tempting swell of her cleavage, is the gleaming, glistening, diamond studded Whistler necklace.

  “Get your damn hands off—”

  “Where’re the earrings.”

  She goes still, her lips pursing as she glares daggers at me, her eyes all full of fire and vinegar.

  “Don’t make me ask you again. Where—”

  “I swallowed them.”

  I blink, staring at her.

  “You what?”

  Her lips curl, grinning like the cat who’s caught the canary.

  “I swallowed them.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She shrugs. “If you say so.”

  Goddamnit.

  The necklace I could take from her. I could force her to take it off. Worst case scenario, I break the clasp and tear it off of her. But the necklace and earrings are a set. Sure, the necklace is worth money—and damn good money—on its own. But it’s the set all together where the real payout is. That’s what a collector will pay for.

  “Here’s the thing,” I growl lowly. She’s writhing and squirming against me, and I’m having a real hard time keeping my control in check. My blood roars in my ears, and as that tight little body grinds into me, and as her hair brushes across my face and the scent of her shampoo invades my senses, my cock aches between my legs, throbbing to break free.

  …Hungry for her.

  “You can kick and squirm all you want, sweetheart.” I mutter, grunting as my hands tighten on her. “But the thing is, I came here for that necklace and the earrings, and I ain’t leaving without—”

  There’s the sound of running footsteps coming down the hallway, and before she can react, I have. I whirl, yanking her with me as I move across the room. I’ve poured over the blueprints to this place for so long, I probably know the floor plans to the Hamptons mansion better than Martin himself, which means hidden behind a hidden door in the wall or not, I know all about the panic room built into the study. The girl gasps, twisting in my arms as I yank her after me into the dark little closet of a room. The panel door slides back just in time, enveloping us in darkness as the sounds of footsteps tumble into the office.

  Suddenly, there’s the sound of a man swearing viscously.

  “Code red!” He roars, his radio squawking. “The heat sensors aren’t broken! The Whistler set is gone! I repeat, the whole set is gone! Code red! Full lockdown!”

  Goddamnit. The plan was to swipe the jewels, replace them in the case with the near-perfect replicas I’ve got in my pocket, and then head down to raise a toast to Martin. I’d eat his food, drink his booze, talk shop with the other finance assholes down there, and then be on my way. I’d go to work on Monday, and every work day after that, for another month before putting in a notice. I’d fade away, and if in a year or two, Martin finally figured out he had bullshit in his jewel case, I’d be a ghost.

  None of that shit is happening now.

  I can hear the security guard or whoever he is dashing from the room as the sound of an alarm starts blaring through the whole mansion.

  Motherfucker.

  So much for the smooth exit I’d planned. Because right now, it’s now or never. It’s run or be caught red-fucking-handed.

  “Get your fucking hands off—”

  “Stop it.”

  My voice is like steel and fire in the darkness of the hidden room. And she stops squirming for one second.

  “I came here for those diamonds, princess,” I growl. “And I ain’t leaving without them. All of them.”

  She twists in my grasp, and in the dim light through the crack around the hidden door, I can see her looking up at me. I don’t need light to feel the fire blazing behind those eyes.

  “Even,” I purr, and she stops squirming for one second, those wild green eyes locked on mine.

  “Even if that means I gotta take you too.”

  Chapter 2

  Valentine

  The hands that hold me are huge and hard, his grip like iron. He pulls me tight against him in the tiny, dark, cramped little hidden room, and when he shifts, I can feel the ripple and bulge of thick, rock-hard muscles under that polished tailored suit.

  “Get your fucking hands off—”

  “Stop it.”

  I shiver at the sound of that voice. My God, it’s like velvet and steel. Whiskey and fire. There’s this commanding, dominant edge to it, and at the same time, it’s almost sensual as his voice growls into my ear.

  And my breath catches.

  “I came here for those diamonds, princess,” he growls. “And I ain’t leaving without them. All of them.”

  The words sizzle through me like fire. I’ve quickly gone from thinking he’s just one of the other asshole suits at the mansion kissing Martin’s ass to knowing he’s… well, something else. He’s no ordinary “suit,” that’s for freaking sure. For one, because he knew, instantly, when he walked into the study just as I finished hiding the diamonds and shutting the case.

  And then, there’s the size of him. I mean, business guys work out, but he’s more than that, and I can feel it as he grips me tight. Thick, rippling arm muscles, and the kind of chest you’d find on a professional football player, not a boardroom suit. That rough, masculine, totally scary and yet totally hot growl is another one. No typical finance suit talks like that.

  But beyond anything else, it’s the diamonds themselves. He doesn’t just know that I’ve got them, he wants them himself.

  …And something tells me it’s not so he can be a good boy scout and put them back. And that means, he’s here to take them, and a man who’s prepared to take something worth this much from a man like Martin?

  Well, that alone has my pulse racing. That we’re shut together in a tiny dark room, my body pressed tight to him with his firm hands holding my wrists is another reason my blood is roaring like fire in my veins. That the way he growls his words has the hairs on the back of my neck tingling and my breath catching is another.

  And the fact that dangerous or not, scary or not, jewel-thief or not, I know the big man holding me pinned to the wall of a hidden room is freaking gorgeous. Those piercing blue eyes, the dark hair, the perfect lips and the jaw carved out of marble.

  I blink, shaking my head as I scowl at myself in the darkness.

  Jesus, get a grip.

  Hot or not, the man is clearly up to no good, clearing pretending he’s something he’s not, and very much holding me captive in a dark, tiny room. I shiver, twisting again in his grip before I feel it tighten and feel the warmth of him as he leans close, looming over me in the darkness.

  My core tightens, and I swear I couldn’t help my thighs squeezing together if I wanted to.

  “I came here for those diamonds, princess. And I ain’t leaving without them. All of them. Even,” he growls. “Even if that means I gotta take y
ou too.”

  My heart jumps into my throat, my pulse thunders in my ears.

  …And God help me, something hot sizzles through me. Something forbidden, and filthy. Something wrong. Something that can’t be helped or stopped. It’s a feeling no man has ever given me before. Not even close. None of the boys from boarding school. None in the traveling I’ve been doing since graduation a few months ago. Which is entirely the reason I’m nineteen years old and… well, yeah.

  That.

  There’ve been some make-out sessions. Some heavy petting. Some dates that got handsier than they should have. But nothing more. And nothing that ever gave me this feeling. Nothing that lit a spark inside of me or got the fire burning hot. Nothing even close to it. But then, here in this tiny, dark room, with the big, hard, dangerous guy with the voice like velvet and whiskey and the hands that make me shiver, with two-hundred-and-forty million dollars of diamonds touching my skin?

  Oh, I feel it alright. The spark. The heat. All of it.

  Maybe it’s the diamonds.

  …I’m pretty sure it’s him though.

  “Let’s go,” he growls suddenly, shaking me from my own head.

  “Go?”

  “Yeah, the plan is fucked,” he mutters. “So, we’re leaving, now.”

  “Uh, we?” I scowl. “Hang on, you can’t just—”

  “You’re wearing a quarter bil of my diamonds, sweetheart,” he purrs right into my ear, making me clamp my lips shut to stop the gasp. “Trust me, you’re coming with me.”

  “Your diamonds, huh?”

  The growl rumbles in his throat in the darkness, making me shiver as I feel his hand tighten on me.

  “Yeah, mine.”

  “Ever heard of finders keepers? I found them first, so—”

  “And then I found you, princess,” his voice rumbles through me, the fierceness making me gasp. “So, guess that means I’m keeping you. Diamonds included. Now let’s fucking mov—”