by Ella Arden
CRIMINAL DESIRE
LOVE IN UNEXPECTED PLACES BOOK 1
ELLA ARDEN
Copyright © 2021 by Ella Arden
All rights reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
BLAKE
She’s teasing me again, I can tell.
It’s obvious that she knows—or, at the very least, heavily suspects—that she’s being followed. Just like the last dozen times that I had trailed her through the city streets. And, just like the last dozen times, she’s making my job nearly impossible.
It isn’t the constant peeking over her slender shoulder, or the doubling back to try and shake me; it’s when she hurries ahead, disappears around the corner, and vanishes by the time I get there. I always find her again, having learned all of her tricks over the past weeks, but damn, it’s annoying.
And she refuses to let me get close.
Several times, I’ve caught a quick glimpse of a smirk curling at her pretty pink lips and I know that she’s aware of the game we’re playing.
Tonight though, I’m the one making the rules.
One of my informants on the street brought me news to the station today, knowing any valuable information meant I would turn a blind eye when I saw them next. This man, particularly grungy and reeking off cigarettes, told me that he’d heard that there was going to be some action happening around 12th and Pine on Friday night.
After walking the area, my eyes had immediately gone to the jewelry store right on the corner. Just the type of place that my mysterious little thief would love to visit.
So tonight, as I follow my girl through the dark streets, I’m a step ahead of her, just giving her a chase so she won’t realize anything is different from normal. But she’s in for a surprise.
Though I have to admit, I didn’t expect watching her break into a place to be so sexy.
She still has that smug smile on her face, thinking she’s lost me a few streets back and not realizing that I’m watching her from the shadows at the opposite end of the alley. And as I watch, she hoists herself up onto the edge of the windowsill, crouching on just her tiptoes as she jimmies the window open.
As she works on the window, it gives me a perfect view of her perky ass, and well, I’m not complaining.
When the window finally opens, sliding up silently beneath her skillful fingers, she tosses her chestnut brown hair over her shoulder and slips inside with the grace of a ballet dancer.
Stepping out of my hiding spot, I walk over to the window casually. She left it open, which means she intends to leave the same way she entered.
A few minutes go by, the street silent and not a single noise coming out of the open window. She’s good, really good, but I already know that. The string of robbed places she’s left behind her in the past weeks speaks for themselves.
The bottoms of her sneakers appear as she wiggles back through the window, feet first… right into my arms.
To her credit, she immediately tries to struggle, but I’m at least half a foot taller than her and know how to restrain someone. I clamp my arms around her tightly, then steps forward to pin her against the concrete wall of the jewelry store.
“Don’t bother,” I tell her, trying to ignore how soft her body is against my own.
She thrashes her head around, almost catching me in the face. “Let go of me,” she hisses, bucking against me.
I keep a tight grip on her, feeling my temperature go up as her ass rubs against my dick in her attempt to get free.
“I said, don’t bother. You’re going to stop struggling so we can have a little talk. We can either do it here, or I can handcuff you and take you down to the station.”
She freezes against me. “Fuck,” she mutters. “You’re a cop?”
I’m actually a detective but I don’t bother correcting her. “I’m going to let you go, but if you try to escape, the next time we talk will be through the bars of a cell. Got it?”
Deflating against me, she nods slowly and I loosen my grip, cautiously letting her slip out of my hold. She dances back a few steps but doesn’t run.
The woman looks me over warily, her eyes going wide and I have to fight back a grimace. It’s the usual response when people notice just how big I am. My well-over-six-foot height, usually accompanied by a dark scowl, typically make people back away very slowly.
Instead, she gives me a slow smile, sauntering closer a step. “Well, hello, officer. If I knew you were so handsome, I would have let you catch me weeks ago.”
She’s obviously fucking with me but I still feel a rush of blood straight to my dick.
I haven’t had the chance to admire her up close like this before. From a distance, she's beautiful, all dark hair and pink lips. Up close, I can see that her wide eyes are a caramel brown, her lower lip deliciously full and pouty, and a hint of cleavage where her jacket is zipped down.
Up close, she's fucking gorgeous and painfully sexy.
Criminal, I remind myself firmly.
Reaching out a hand, she runs it down my chest in one slow movement, her grin positively wicked. “Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement—”
I snatch her wrist before it brushes the top of my jeans, yanking her against me roughly and notice the way her eyes go wide. “This is your last warning before I haul you off to the station and let you spend the night in a cold cell. Stop fucking around.”
Her expression immediately turns defensive. “Haul me off for what? As far as I’m concerned, you just assaulted an innocent woman. I could press charges.”
Slowly, I turn and look at the open window she’d climbed out of.
She tilts her chin up stubbornly. “I got locked in by the idiot manager. You have no proof that I was doing anything illegal.”
Biting back a growl, I nod at the wall behind us. “Put your hands on the wall and stand still.”
Surprise lights up in her eyes. “What? Why?”
“You heard me. I’m getting proof.” I glare at her, challenging her. “If you have nothing to hide, I’m sure a quick search won’t bother you.”
After staring me down for a second, she reluctantly does as I instruct, turning her back to me and placing her hands flat against the concrete wall.
I can’t help but take a second to admire her before crouching down to feel along her legs. It’s obvious from her tight, black pants, that she hasn’t shoved anything down them. But if she wants to make this difficult, I’m more than happy to oblige.
I slowly pat my way up each of her legs, feeling her tense as I reach her thighs, then check her empty pockets. As I follow the curve of her ass, her back arches slightly, leaning into my touch.
Steady. She’s trying to shake you.
Standing and positioning myself behind her, I sweep my hands up her torso, hearing her breathing hitch as I brush the bottom of her breasts. Even just from the slightest of touches, I can feel how soft and perky they are, how good they’d feel in my—
“Turn around,” I command her.
She does as I say, spinning around and leaning against the wall to tilt her head back and look me in the face.
“See, officer, I told you I—”
She cuts off with a sharp gasp as I grasp the front of her silky blouse, pulling it down just slightly to reveal the lacy edge of her bra and a glimmer between her mouthwatering cleavage.
“Don’t make me get it,” I warn her, a small part of me just wishing that she would test me.
To my surprise, her lips curl up into a smile. “You got me.” She reaches down into her bra, pulling out a diamond bracelet and two necklaces that shimmer even in the dim light of the alley. A slight shiver goes up my spine when she places them into my waiting hand and I feel that they’re warm from her skin.
I tuck the jewelry into his pocket, knowing I’ll need them for later.
“Well, looks like I’m busted,” the woman says, lowering her head and holding out her wrists. I frown at her compliant pose.
“I told you, I want to talk. I want to offer you a deal—”
Out of nowhere, she lashes out with her foot, aiming right between my legs. I manage to twist just in time, my thigh taking most of the hit, but shit, it still hurts. She’s surprisingly strong.
My leg buckles and she takes off like a scared rabbit.
Catching myself from falling, I sprint after her.
Though she’s undeniably quicker than me, I’d planned for just this sort of thing, knowing the chances that my feisty thief would go down without a fight were slim to none. I’d closed off the chain-link fence at the end of the alleyway and by the time I reach it, she’s halfway up, scaling the thing like a monkey.
Luckily, being tall has its perks. I jump up, grabbing onto her calf, and pull us both onto the street in a jumbled heap.
She struggles again for a second, but I manage to maneuver so I’m on top, straddling her.
“Stop it,” I growl, pinning her arms down. “Do you want me to arrest you? I’m trying to offer you a deal, if you’d stop and listen for one second.”
She bared her teeth at me like a feral animal. “I’m not an idiot. I know the sorts of deals that you cops offer and I’m not a snitch.”
God, she’s so frustrating. Her defiant and stubborn attitude makes me want to smack my head against the wall. Repeatedly. But I need her. She’s my only shot at finding who’s behind the string of thefts happening throughout the city.
I sigh, lessening my weight on her slightly. “If you already know what I’m going to offer, I suppose you don’t want to hear it then. I suppose you’d rather be arrested than get released, your record wiped clean.”
Her brown eyes sparkle with curiosity before she bites her plump lip and forces a neutral expression on her face. “That sounds a little too good to be true.”
“It’s not. I want you to take me to your seller. I want to know who’s behind all of this and what they’re using the money for.”
She considers me for a long second. I can feel when she gives up on her defiant act, body going limp underneath my own.
“Wilcox. You want Ivan Wilcox. He’s going to be at The Black Spade club tomorrow night, meeting with our buyer. A man we call Banks. I’ve only met him a few times, which was more than enough for me, but I can describe him to you.”
I bite back a victorious grin. She’s already given me more information than I’ve managed to uncover in weeks. I knew that she was my ticket to solving this case.
I stand up and pull her to her feet, conscious to be a little more gentle now that she’s being compliant.
“I don’t want a description, you’re going to point him out to me when you go tomorrow. You’re going to take me there and show me exactly who these men are.”
Her jaw drops almost comically. “Are you crazy? That’s suicide. If they find out that I’m working with a cop to save my own skin, they’ll kill me.”
The thought makes my blood boil. Thief or not, she’s just a girl in over her head.
“Come on, I’ll explain everything at the station.” I try to steer her towards the car I’ve got parked on the next street over but she recoils.
“Station? I thought you weren’t taking me in!”
My eyebrow goes up. “I said you’d be released, but that’s after you help me out. And I’m not letting you out of my sight before tomorrow night, I’m sure you’d bolt at the first chance you’d get. I think you can survive one night in a cell. I’ll even give you a blanket if you’re a good girl.”
She visibly bristles at my words, and although she shoots me a filthy look, it’s obvious that she realizes she has no other choice.
Head lowered, she lets me lead her back to my car.
CHAPTER TWO
ROSE
I glower from behind the bars of my cell. This is utterly ridiculous.
This mountain of a man—Detective Blake Reeves, as he had finally introduced himself—doesn’t seem to comprehend that I really have nowhere to run. In one night, I’ve lost my months of progress with no place to turn. I’m screwed.
He removes his jacket, his gun holster accentuating the broad lines of his chest, and leans against the wall, watching me with an indecipherable expression.
His dark eyes on me make me feel uncomfortable. When I’d first seen him in the alley, my heart had stopped. Huge and dark-haired with a strong nose and jawline you could cut yourself on, I’d been stunned. I’d been assuming the person following me the last few weeks was some goon of Wilcox’s, not the hottest detective in the city.
And, right now I need to firmly not think about how it felt to have his hands all over my body.
“So, what’s your name?” he questions, his deep voice calm.
I never carry my ID on me when I’m doing a job, just a key to my apartment attached to my bra strap. Which he’d already found and taken.
“Rose,” I tell him tiredly, dismissing the idea of a fake name. It would only be a matter of time before he figured out it was fake anyway.
He still gives me a hard look. “Your real name.”
“That's my real name, asshole,” I snap, crossing my arms. “I thought detectives were supposed to be smart.”
A muscle in his jaw flexes as he obviously bites back a snide comment. “Well, Rose. You can be pissed at me all you want, but it was only a matter of time before someone else brought you in. We’ve known about you for a while and you’re lucky that I was assigned to this case and decided I’d rather have your help than just lock you up. But, I can change my mind at any time.”
Really subtle. It was the equivalent of him patting me on the head and telling me to be a good girl or I’ll get spanked. A shiver runs down my spine.
“I don’t have much of a choice other than to help you. You don’t need to threaten me.”
He nods sharply, dark hair falling over his forehead. “I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page here. I don’t like having to repeat myself.”
Great, it looks like my detective is also a huge control freak.
I shift on the uncomfortable mattress, already knowing it’s going to be a long night of trying to sleep on this thing.
“So, what’s the plan here?” I ask him, already wondering how quickly I’ll get shot by Wilcox tomorrow. This detective clearly doesn’t understand the dynamic of Wilcox’s group, and he’s going to get me killed because of it.
I’m his thief. Wilcox gives me a place to hit up, planned the day and time, and sends me off. I steal what he asks or I’m killed. Then, I meet him with the goods at the time and place that he prearranges, or I’m killed. And I sit through the meeting like a good little dog, keeping my mouth shut unless spoken to first. Or I’m killed.
Showing up with a cop is certain death.
Detective Reeves pushes off from the wall, striding closer to the bars. “You’re going to just do your job tomorrow, nothing more. I’ll give you the jewelry back and follow you to the club, where you’ll go about the me
eting as usual. I need to see the exchange happen so I have proof of what’s going on. And then, when it’s all over, you’re free to go. With the understanding, of course, that next time you want to cause trouble, you’re all mine.”
I know he doesn’t mean it as anything more than a threat, but his words and the dark, warning look he levels at me makes my body flood with heat.
His plan isn’t an awful one and doesn’t require much of a risk to me personally. Unless Wilcox discovers that I ratted them out. Thankfully, I’ve learned to be a great liar these last few months.
I’ve had to be to survive. And people are counting on me.
A few months ago, my best friend, Fiona, had come to me for help. Her husband, Peter, had found out that illegal meetings were going on in his club, and in his attempt to confront the people running them, he was framed and arrested.
I had gone to see Peter, and he told me all that he knew about the operation. How his club had been used as a base for the seller and buyer to meet, handing off stolen goods. How somehow, they knew that he was going to turn them in, and on the night that he went to confront them, he instead found himself surrounded by stolen goods and cops. And that without proof of his innocence, he’d be locked up.
I hadn’t hesitated. Years ago, when I had no one else to turn to, when I had been fresh out of an abusive relationship with no home, no friends or family, Fiona and Peter had taken me in and helped me turn my life around. They’d probably saved my life.
So, I started stealing things—surprising how the unsavory skills I’d picked up as a foster kid had finally come in handy—and getting my name put in the right circles, going off of what little information Peter could give me. After a month, I was approached by Wilcox and offered work.
The problem is, I’ve been in for weeks and I'm still not trusted. I’ve taken every chance I’ve had to look over ledgers and records of the sales, to ask subtle questions, anything to point me in the right direction. But nothing is coming up and I’m running out of time. I have a feeling that Banks, our buyer, is the one I really want, the one with all the information.