Stealing Scarlett

by Isabella Snow

  “Good night, Scarlett.”

  Halfway through the door, she whirled back around toward his voice. He knew her name! She stared into the darkness a moment longer before deciding to play it cool. Let him think she wasn’t caught off guard by that little trick. Besides, with a little luck, the wine would have him erased from memory by morning.

  Chapter One

  Three months later

  Small fingers grasped the umbrella, a delicate wrist flicking it from side to side. Light blue eyes assessed her reflection in a nearby window. She was a mess. Long, black hair clung to her face, a sopping Armani suit hugging narrow hips as though its life depended on it. Tugging at the lapels of her blazer jacket, she did her best to conceal the hardened nipples visible through her wet blouse.

  A quick trip to the ladies’ room was out of the question. She was just plain late at this point. Racing through the airport, she eyed the arrivals board as she ran toward the terminal. Dodging women, children, and the occasional baby carriage, she hoped to God her new boss was still waiting at the gate. Even the grumpiest of men could forgive a few minutes’ delay. But that would have been more than an hour ago.

  How was I supposed to know he’d be flying into a private airfield? She bit her lower lip nervously. What’s wrong with O’Hare, for Christ’s sake?

  She was lucky ‑‑ a girl in personnel happened to know which airport when she rang the office earlier. Too bad it wasn’t mentioned in the itinerary they’d e-mailed her yesterday!

  “Damn it!” She rounded the corner and stopped abruptly.

  The lounge was empty. Letting her shoulders slump forward slightly, she fished around in her purse and finally managed to locate her cell phone. No small feat, given the state of chaos it was perpetually in. Scrolling through the address book, she found her secretary’s number and hit the “call” button. The phone rang twice before an ultra-feminine voice answered it.

  “Preston Turner Corporation. How may I help you?” the woman purred.

  Scarlett rolled her eyes. You’d think she’d dialed a sex line.

  “Bianca, has anyone tried to reach me since I’ve been out?” She refused to let on how badly she’d screwed up.

  “Hi, Scarlett!” the busty brunette exclaimed through a crackling of gum. “Mr. Redding from Accounting stopped by, but that’s all. How’s the new boss man? Is he hot?”

  “Thank you, Bianca. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She ignored the question and hung up. She’d only been there a few months, but she already knew how fast rumors traveled in that office. She wasn’t about to provide any free gossip.

  As she turned to leave, a sleek black jet drew her attention to the tarmac. Ivory stilettos carried her toward the massive window. As much as she hated flying, she always found herself in awe of anything aviatic. Especially pilots, she thought with a grin. How she’d love to be swept up, up, and away by one, the farther, the better.

  She was definitely in the wrong business, as far as excitement was concerned. Nothing wild and crazy about investment banking, particularly her new colleagues. She had to admit, she was disappointed to discover the party’s mystery man didn’t actually work in her office. While she couldn’t be sure what he looked like, she was positive about his height. None of the men she worked with were taller than her. Perhaps she’d imagined him.

  “If you’re quite finished,” a deep voice spoke from behind her.

  She jerked around with a start, the man’s rich baritone cutting through her thoughts. Mouth open, brilliant retort on the tip of her tongue, all mental faculties failed miserably as he came into focus. Thick, dark brown hair lay neatly trimmed against his forehead. Hazel eyes stared straight through her, a deep frown creasing his brow. The man was six feet five if he was an inch!

  Yes, Bianca, the new boss man is hot. That tiny little photo she’d seen in the company’s Christmas newsletter didn’t do him justice.

  Suit jacket draped across an arm, crisp blue dress shirt undone at the collar, his tie had long since been removed. She took a deep breath as the outline of his body drew her eyes away from his handsome face. Broad shoulders, a well-defined chest, and muscular arms. Powerful enough to hold a woman still while he did anything he wanted to her.

  Perfect for late night encounters on darkened terraces.

  She sighed mentally. Three months and still obsessed with him. How long did it take to get over a man you’d barely even met? If she didn’t know better, she’d think him little more than a wine-induced hallucination. Scarlett’s gaze returned to the man’s face, and he raised a brow, an unidentifiable expression on his face.

  “Chase Turner.”

  She took a deep breath, smiled broadly, and extended her hand. He might have knocked her off-kilter, but she was damned if he was going to know about it.

  “Scarlett Montgomery.” She hoped her businesslike tone disguised whatever it was she was feeling in her stomach.

  He stood there for what seemed like an eternity. For a moment, she felt sure he was going to just leave her standing there, hand extended. She could feel the blush creeping across her cheeks when he finally closed the distance between them and took her hand.

  “Ms. Montgomery” ‑‑ he cocked his head to the side ‑‑ “are you often unreliable?”

  Her heart leapt into her throat at the question. She moved to retract her hand from his grasp, but he did not release her. A sinking feeling began to proliferate in her belly, and she was suddenly very aware of his gaze. Those eyes were almost mesmerizing, if not a tad bit frightening.

  “Absolutely not,” she replied firmly.

  “Good.” He retracted his arm slightly, forcing her to step closer to him.

  Her jacket fell open, taut nipples already straining against the wet blouse. His gaze roamed downward, and she blushed.

  “Mr. Turner,” she began.

  He released her hand and pressed a finger to her lips. “Be a good girl and show me to the car.”

  Her mouth fell open as he pulled his hand away.

  Never in her life had anyone spoken to her that way. Who the hell did this man think he was? She glowered at him and bit her tongue sharply. “My car’s parked in the garage across the street,” she replied through clenched teeth. “If you’ll just follow me.”

  She took a step forward and tried to brush past him. Unfortunately, flustered as she was, she misjudged by a good three inches. Crashing into him at full speed, reflex demanded she clutch the nearest available object.

  The waist of his trousers, in this case.

  She latched on to his belt and pulled herself against him. Grateful to have prevented a fall, she sighed with relief ‑‑ this was the last man on earth she wanted to humiliate herself in front of. Right, because thrusting yourself into a man’s groin is far less humiliating than falling down in front of him, a voice snickered.

  Damn it!

  Swallowing nervously, she unclamped her fingers and let go of his belt. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as she inched her way backward.

  A lopsided grin crossed his face as he slipped a large hand around her waist and stepped toward her. “You should buy me dinner before you try to seduce me.”

  She wanted to scratch that smug little grin off his face! Bracing her palms against his chest, she pushed against him in her embarrassment. As the tiniest space emerged between them, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d broken away or been released. She had the distinct feeling she wouldn’t get very far should he choose to prove his strength.

  Eager to leave, she turned to retrace her steps to the airport’s entrance. Storming through the corridor, she didn’t once glance behind her to see if that son of a bitch was following her or not. At this point, she hoped he’d get lost and find himself stranded forever, the miserable wretch.

  “Scarlett.” He was directly behind her before she knew it was happening. “If you’re this easily rattled, you may want to consider a transfer.”

  He stood less than a centimeter behind her now,
his presence eliciting a shudder from deep inside of her. His lips were so close to her she couldn’t think of anything else. As with the handshake, he was unhurried in his movement, but there was no need to hold her this time; she was captivated by his voice. Imprisoned by his mere presence.

  “I’m hardly rattled.” Her voice wavered ever so slightly as she glanced over her shoulder. His smile suggested he suspected the opposite. Moving ahead, he bowed in an exaggerated show of chivalry and opened the door for her. She flew past him in her haste to get outside.

  The storm had finally passed, and Scarlett thanked God for small favors. As they entered the garage, she opened her purse in search of her keys. Looking up for moment, she spotted the silver Mercedes SUV and nodded in its direction. Having expected him to head toward it, she glanced up when she realized he was waiting for her.

  “Perhaps a call to roadside assistance is in order?” His brow arched sardonically as she fumbled through her purse.

  She was gritting her teeth so tightly she feared dental work might be in order. She tracked down the jingling of metal and drew her keys out of the bag. Without bothering to acknowledge his last statement, she took a step forward and headed for the car.

  “Just a moment.” He placed himself between her and the SUV.

  It was all she could do to stop herself from crashing into him again. She looked up quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. He was unsettling her every step of the way, and she couldn’t figure out how he was doing it. She masked her embarrassment the best way she knew how.

  “Yes?” she snapped angrily.

  A large hand shot toward her wrist and clasped it tightly. She would have dropped the keys, had he not collected them with his other hand.

  “Now wait just a minute!” She was livid. “Those are my keys, to my car, and I did not give you permission to drive it!”

  “Quite right.” He shot her a grin. “You didn’t.”

  She waited for him to continue, but he seemed content to leave it at that. What kind of reply was she supposed to give? Further confirmation that he had, indeed, confiscated her personal property? She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Crossing her arms she stood before him, almost daring him to make the next move. Hazel eyes twinkled with amusement.

  “After you.” He nodded toward the car.

  She held her ground in silence.

  The man tsked softly and walked over to the Mercedes. Disabling the alarm with the fob, he opened the driver’s side door, tossing his carry-on bag in the back. His movements were tantalizingly slow and self-assured. Once again, she caught herself admiring the outline of his broad, muscled shoulders. She cursed herself for even noticing. He opened the passenger door and stepped back, extending an open palm toward the seat.

  He can’t be serious!

  Slowly, she shook her head from side to side. She wasn’t about to move. He left the door open and faced her directly, his expression an even mix of ire and enjoyment. The man was getting his kicks from this!

  “Is that a no?” His voice was deceptively gentle.

  “It is.” She stared at him coldly.

  Several long strides and he now stood less than an inch in front of her. Let him try and intimidate her with his size, she smirked. She was plenty accustomed to standing her ground.

  “Please yourself.” He grinned again.

  His face softened dramatically as the grin turned into a breathtaking smile. Fully distracted, she was completely taken aback by how charming he appeared in that one moment. The one moment needed to catch her unaware. A sinewy forearm snaked around her waist as he bent forward. He held the position just long enough to haul her up and over a massive shoulder. The move was so sudden it almost knocked the wind out of her.

  “This is highly inappropriate!” Her cries were muffled as she hung over his back. “Your father would not approve of this!”

  “Lucky for me he isn’t here, then.” He chuckled as he carried her toward the car.

  Scarlett felt her stomach drop as he took hold of her hips and prepared to lower her to the ground. He wasn’t the slightest bit concerned about the impropriety. Indeed, the man seemed to thrive on it! Letting her slide down his chest until her heels touched the pavement, his eyes never once left her face.

  He watched her carefully, as if waiting for her reply. But she didn’t dare. His reputation preceded him. This was the man who’d run the New York office with an iron fist, until he was sent off to salvage the Italian office last year. An iron fist that crushed anyone and everyone who so much as annoyed him. Cruel and heartless were the two adjectives most commonly associated with him.

  “Something you’d like to say?” Turner’s expression grew dark.

  “N-no,” she stammered.

  Holding her firmly, he maneuvered her body between the car door and himself, her bottom grazing the front of his pants as she passed him. His hands went to her hips and held her still, letting her feel his large member through his slacks.

  “No doubt you’ve heard stories about me.” He breathed the words against her cheek.

  She fought the urge to let her head fall back against his shoulder, to let his lips explore the nape of her neck. This man was absolutely magnetic at close range.

  “Some of them are true.” His tone was unapologetic. “Some of them aren’t. You’ll have to decide which are which.”

  Scarlett’s eyelids grew heavy as she listened to him speak. She felt drugged. His voice was so soothing, so soft ‑‑ yet so powerful. So erotic. So familiar? She felt his hand on her shoulder as he guided her down into the car. Her eyes flew open as she realized he’d succeeded in making her a passenger after all. She tried to protest, but he motioned for her to be silent.

  “My car will be arriving tomorrow. For now, yours will have to suffice. I will not be chauffeured by a woman.” He closed her door and made his way to the driver’s side.

  Chapter Two

  Scarlett sat quietly in the passenger seat as the exit signs flew by. He seemed to be confusing I-55 with a closed racetrack. Fortunately, she had nerves of steel and found his Formula One behavior more amusing than anything else. But she was fairly certain he was scaring the crap out everyone around them.

  “Nervous?” He’d read her mind.

  “Never.” She gazed out the window.

  He grinned. “Shame.”

  She feigned boredom, twisting her body away from him. He flicked on the indicator signal and began merging toward the exit lane. Chicago could breathe easy again, now that the madman was exiting the Interstate.

  “West Superior Street

  , was it?”

  Scarlett’s head snapped toward him as he loosened his dress shirt by two more buttons. “Sorry?” She wanted to ask how he knew where she lived, but her tongue was presently tied in knots.

  “Something wrong?” His smile was almost angelic.

  “Are we not headed for the office?” She bit her lip nervously.

  “I thought you might drop me at home.”

  Scarlett sank back into her seat, finally able to breathe again. She’d misunderstood him, obviously. “Of course. Your apartment is on West Superior, then.” She could relax now.

  He nodded.

  Allowing herself the luxury of a few moments’ relief, she took a deep breath and tried to think happy thoughts.

  “Scarlett?”

  “Yes?”

  “Would it be better to park in the garage or on the street?” He’d stopped the car and was looking out her window.

  Still in her own little world, she shrugged and followed his gaze. “How should I ‑‑” Her words trailed off as her mouth fell open. They were sitting in front of her apartment building.

  Why were they sitting in front of her apartment building?

  “Mr. Turner…” She felt nauseous.

  “Ms. Montgomery?” He smiled broadly.

  “Is this where you’ll be staying?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Do you find it unacceptable?” H
e frowned and looked over the building’s exterior.

  Yes!

  “It doesn’t concern me one way or another.” She tried to silence her nerves.

  “That’s almost painful.” He winced, clutching his gut dramatically.

  Note to self: Aim a few inches lower next time. Scarlett rolled her eyes.

  “Shall I use your parking spot, then?” He put the Mercedes back into drive.

  So he did know she lived here! Let him try and unnerve her. He wasn’t going to see her sweat. “By all means.”

  She folded her hands in her lap as he turned into the underground car park. Taking it down to the second level, he found her parking spot with relative ease. Not to mention he pulled into it so skillfully, she couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy. It always took her at least fifteen minutes to get inside the lines.

  “How did you know which sector my spot was located in?” she asked.

  “Daniel Blake mentioned you were a few places over from him.” He slipped his sunglasses into their case.

  She raised a brow at the mention of her previous supervisor’s name. Crossing her arms, she eyed him suspiciously. “How did you know where his parking spot was?”

  “Management faxed me a little map of the garage when they transferred his lease to me.” He flashed her a gorgeous smile.

  Nausea suddenly bordered on vertigo. Several Turner employees occupied corporate apartments in this building. But Blake’s was just a few doors down from her own. More than a bit too close for comfort!

  “I didn’t realize he was moving.” Her voice was hoarse.

  “Florida, I believe he said.” He opened the door and climbed out of the car.

  She sat there in silence as reality began to sink in. This man ‑‑ this gorgeous, masculine, arrogant, overbearing man ‑‑ was going to live three doors down from her.

  He grabbed his belongings from the back of the car and circled round to her side. Still staring into space, shock consumed her. Pulling the door open, he tilted his head to the side. “Come, Ms. Montgomery.” He grinned, taking her hand and guiding her down to the ground. “I’m expecting a full tour of the premises, and I won’t take no for an answer.”