by T. S. Ryder
Oliver lifted his eyes to hers. "You're angry."
"Of course I'm angry! You can't take this one incident, where you were protecting me, and say that it's more important than all the good times we had together. Playing on the jungle gym? Hide and seek in the atrium? Not to mention sex in the theater room!" Mack put her hands on her hips. "When have you ever hurt me? Not once."
"That doesn't mean I won't. In the future."
"You won't. Don't cut me out, Oliver. Please."
"I can't have children."
"I don't care. I love you."
"You love me?" A brief smile crossed his face. "I was afraid you'd run away from me. But I was wrong. You ran towards me." He stepped forward, and his fingers brushed her cheek. She pressed her hands to his chest. His heart beat sure and strong. "I don't understand why you want to be with me."
"Because you are the most unique, wonderful man I have ever met, and you let me be me." Mack pressed herself against him, smiling up into his deep eyes. "I'm happy when I'm with you… and I like to think you're happy with me."
Oliver wrapped his strong arms around her. "Deliriously happy. Happier than I've ever been in my life."
He pressed a kiss to her mouth and, with a sigh, Mack wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in deeper.
Epilogue
Florida was growing on her. To hell with spanx and whatever else was going to make her look thinner and hide her wobbly bits. Now it was all tank tops and short shorts. Even less when she and Oliver were home in their countryside getaway, but with a business to run, they could only get out there during the weekends.
Mack smiled as she carried a basket of squirming, mewling kittens back to their mother after being weighed. Oliver had purchased a few acres of land just outside Orlando so she could finally set up her animal rescue shelter. They only had licenses to take in domestic animals at the moment, but she was working on getting registered to care for wild animals.
"Here you go, lovely." She slipped into the large pen where the mother cat was anxiously waiting for her kittens to return. As Mack put them down one by one, the mother cat began licking them. "All healthy and purrrrrfect."
She scratched the cat behind the ears, making her purr. In a few weeks, the kittens would be old enough to adopt out, and she already had a new owner for the mother and the runt of the litter when that happened.
Adopting out kittens and puppies was easy. The older animals, however, were starting to get overcrowded. They'd have to put out more advertisements. Even with all their space, they just didn't have enough room to care for them all.
After she fed the cats and cleaned a few cages, Mack sought her lover and business partner out. He was where he always was at this time of day, sitting outside the cage of a cat they had gotten from a hoarder two weeks ago. The poor thing had been half-starved, and though it had fattened up since then, the ragged patches of fur on its body had not regrown. The fur that was growing was a hideous poop-brown. As Mack approached, the familiar warning hiss issued from the cage.
"I don't know if there's hope for this one, Oliver." Mack put her hand on his shoulder. "He just doesn't like people."
Oliver pressed her palm to his lips. "And that's why I think he's perfect for us. Think about it. I don't like people, you don't like people. If we don't take him, who will?"
The cat spat at Mack as she looked at it. She closed her eyes very slowly several times until the growling ceased, then sat beside Oliver. Her family had found him strange and a little off-putting when she first introduced him, but he had soon won them over. Her mother had confided in him that she had never seen Mack so light-hearted and happy in her whole life, and his eccentric ways were soon labeled endearing.
Mack put her head on her lover's shoulder, enjoying the warmth from his skin.
"If we take him home, he'll run away and end up being an alligator's snack," she said, while Oliver made gentle hooting noises towards the ugly, defensive cat. "I have to admit, though, you're really good with him. Look at that. He's visibly relaxing."
"We could have him in our city apartment at first until he won't run away. I just hate to see him in here. It's so lonely… And I know how he feels. Like he's not wanted, like the world will hurt him if it gets too close." Oliver turned sad eyes on her. "What if I promised to stay home every day to take care of him? I'll buy scratching posts and toys and treats. I'll buy you a new car," he added. "And a new dress. And I'll buy your parents a new house."
"You just bought them a new house."
"I'll buy them another one. And your brothers, I'll buy them houses, too. I'm very rich, you know." He said it seriously, as though she didn't know that already.
Mack laughed. "You crazy monkey."
"Ape," he corrected. "Or hominid-ape. Maybe I'm Bigfoot. It doesn't matter." He beamed at her. "I have you and I'm happy. I just want to give him the same chance that you gave me."
Mack felt herself caving. She straddled Oliver's hips and nodded. "Fine. We can adopt the cat."
Oliver's eyes lit up.
"If, and I do mean if, you clean up after yourself for a full week," Mack smiled, knowing that he wasn't going to do it and she was going to let him have the cat anyway. Her heart felt full to bursting and she pressed her mouth to his. "Let me change that. You can have the cat if you tell me you love me."
"I love you," Oliver said at once. "Have since I first laid eyes on you."
"I love you, too."
He drew her back for another kiss. Their lips parted and their tongues flicked against each other. Mack moaned, pressing herself tighter against him. The cat hissed and Oliver laughed, sticking one of his fingers through the cage.
"Silly kitty. You're coming home with us tonight. You're going to have to get used to it." He sighed, resting his head on her chest. "He's perfect, isn't he?"
"You're perfect," Mack replied, smiling at him.
Oliver chuckled. "No, you're perfect."
Mack tilted his face to hers, cupping his face in her hands. "This is perfect."
"Can't argue with that." He pulled her in for another kiss.
*****
THE END
Bonus Book 5: The Billionaire Gorilla's Baby
Description
A curvy thief caught red-handed PLUS a hot billionaire who wants to make a deal PLUS a dangerous secret and an attack
Scarlett Brenan does not steal. She's an acquisitionist. Stealing would imply she was taking things that could not be replaced, and that sort of behavior would be extremely ungentlewomanly.
Yes, some still would call it stealing and she does have the moniker of the 'Gentlewoman Thief' in the newspapers, but she would never take anything from someone who didn't already have far more than they needed. Besides, she makes a point of redistributing her acquired wealth, so really she is in charitable work.
Only one person, her mentor, knows of Scarlett's humanitarian efforts… until she is caught by billionaire Maximillian Barnes in his safe.
Scarlett is certain her career is over until the handsome billionaire makes a deal with her. If she'll pretend to be his mysterious fiancée for one year, he'll give her whatever it is she wants and introduce her to his grossly rich friends for her future endeavors.
But what starts as simple play-acting becomes far too real far too quickly… and Scarlett discovers a secret Max has been hiding for years that might just ruin the game.
To make matters worse, somebody else out there knows Scarlett's identity, and that someone wants her dead.
Chapter One
Sounds of piano music and laughter wafted up the grand marble staircase to the fifth room on the right. Inside this particular room, a light breeze blew lace curtains in lazy circles while moonlight drifted through the window, shining directly into the room-sized wall safe. Jeweled necklaces, cufflinks and other trinkets sparkled in the wan light.
Scarlett fixed a silver tiara on her head, admiring the way the pale metal contrasted with her dark hair. It was something she wo
uld very much like to take with her. She smiled as she imagined herself in a fancy dress wearing the tiara, like a princess out of a fairy-tale movie. Her fingers ran across necklaces and glittering, delicate rings left on the safe shelves.
Why would a man like Maximillian Barnes have so much women's jewelry? He hadn't been seen photographed with a woman other than his elderly housekeeper in nearly five years, since the tragic death of his parents. Although he claimed to have a fiancée somewhere, the lack of evidence provided by the media indicated that this fiancée was just a fabrication.
Which could only mean that the necklaces and tiaras must have belonged to his mother.
With a sigh, Scarlett set the tiara back on its stand, running her gloved hand over the large center ruby one last time. It was truly a work of art. No, she would leave the tiara. Even though she was certain it was insured for at least its monetary worth, if it belonged to Barnes' mother it would hold sentimental value, and she did not help herself to things that could not be replaced. If she took it, she'd have to destroy it if she meant to sell it, anyway.
What she would take, however, were the stacks of bearer bonds in the safe. There had to be two million dollars' worth there, carelessly stuffed into the corner of the safe. They were hardly sentimental. Given that Barnes pulled in an estimated five billion annually, he wouldn't even miss this two million. He'd have gotten it back by the end of the week. Plenty of people out there deserved it more.
Somebody new took over the piano downstairs, and Scarlett wrinkled her nose at the change of song. They were playing a 'modern' version of Mozart's Piano Sonata Number 3.
Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. In her opinion, the classics ought to remain classics. This player was destroying all the complexity of the score, simplifying it for the repetitious strain of current pop music. It was enough to drive a gentlewoman to distraction.
And distracted she was.
She didn't hear the approaching footfalls on the carpet in the corridor outside, didn't see the hulking shadow lurking in the door. But he saw her.
When the light flicked on and she turned to see Maximillian Barnes standing in the doorway with a surprised expression on his face, Scarlett was not afraid of being caught. Rather, she was upset with herself. If she was allowing her patrons to walk in on her while she worked, well, she was becoming too cocky. Arrogance was not attractive in a gentlewoman.
And it certainly didn't help her current situation.
"Whoever is butchering Mozart down there ought to be shot," she told the billionaire, emphasizing her southern drawl as she slid her bag, packed with her tools and acquisitions, onto her back. When people heard her accent, they generally thought she was stupid. And when people thought she was stupid, it was easier to get away with things. She kept her tone light and conversational. "I simply can't stay any longer and listen to that travesty. Goodnight to you, sir."
With a smile and a wave, Scarlett darted to the window. She was fast–faster than she looked. Because her figure showed just how much she enjoyed cupcakes and hamburgers, people assumed that she was heavy-footed, slow and clumsy, the stereotypical 'fat girl' who couldn't possibly do things like scale a two-floor wall or leap between houses. They assumed wrong, though, and that usually worked to her advantage.
Not this time. Barnes, too, was faster than he looked, and just as Scarlet reached the window, his arms wrapped around her waist.
He was stronger than she realized as well–Scarlett's eyes widened as he lifted her bodily from the ground, twirling her away from the window. A hand the size of a dinner plate slapped over her mouth. Barnes carried her back to the safe, depositing her while he ripped her pack off her.
"Sir, I insist that you release me at once!" Scarlet's voice was higher-pitched than normal, even as she tried to calm her pounding heart.
Panicking would only make the situation worse.
"You are an intruder in my house, madam," Barnes replied, with all the courtesy that his English accent demanded. He pulled Scarlett's handcuffs, only to be used in the most desperate of emergencies, from her pack and spun her around. "You have no right to make demands."
Before Scarlett could fight back or even protest, he had slapped a cuff on one wrist, threaded it through a bar that protruded from the wall, and cuffed her other wrist. Scarlett's heart rate spiked; this could spell the end of her career or worse! Too late, she struggled, kicking at Barnes. He merely stepped out of her reach.
It was no secret that another billionaire, Ken Madoc, had been searching for her ever since she entered his house to find two bodies stuffed into his safe. Barnes and Madoc ran in the same circles. If they were friends, it might as well be her body hidden away. She would probably never be found.
Barnes calmly stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth, then removed his tie and gagged her with it. "I'm afraid I have to leave you now and attend to my guests. I will return when I can, and then we can talk."
He closed the safe door, locking her in darkness.
Scarlett twisted against her cuffs, panic threatening to overwhelm her. If he was going to call the police, he would not have gagged her. So either he did know Madoc, or he was going to handle her himself anyway. He probably thought he could get away with it–he was so rich, he probably could.
This is why I hate people who have too much money. They think the world is theirs to command.
She kicked around in the darkness, trying to locate her pack. Her lock-picking gear was inside and, if she could get it, then she could escape before Barnes returned to… what? Give her cement shoes and throw her in the nearest lake? Put a bullet in the back of her head?
All her struggles were in vain. By Scarlett's reckoning, she was in the safe for an hour, no closer to escape than when he had first put her in, when Barnes returned. The sounds of partying below were gone, so Scarlett didn't bother screaming when he removed the gag from her mouth. She stared at him coldly as he picked up her pack and emptied it. At least he had the decency to sort things out into proper piles.
"A newspaper clipping about a school in Queens being closed due to budget cuts?" he said at last. A grin grew on his face as he looked up. "You must be the Gentlewoman Thief."
Scarlett nodded with all the grace she could muster.
"I'm honored, madam." He bowed.
"Thank you."
Barnes began packing her things again. "I must say, I have been a great admirer of your work for some time. I especially enjoyed that letter you wrote to the newspaper over the nickname they gave you."
Even though it was ungentlewomanly to scowl, Scarlett found herself doing just that at the mention of her former nickname. Kitty Cat Burglar. "That 'name' was nothing more than an attempt to both infantilize and sexualize me. It's disgusting."
"As you said in your letter." Barnes' smile widened. "A scolding to the media for the way they portray women, especially young girls, as having worth only because of how sexually desirable they are. It was masterfully written."
"Thank you."
"Brains and beauty. A deadly combination." Barnes' gaze ran down her figure lazily, making her tense. He sensed her discomfort and returned his gaze to her eyes. "I have made you uncomfortable."
"I don't like men ogling me when I'm restrained."
"I apologize. It's just that you're not what I was imagining."
Scarlett resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You were expecting a black spandex catsuit on a woman with no muscle definition but who still manages to have perfect perky breasts?"
Barnes shrugged, completely unabashed. "Regardless of what I imagined, I am pleased to meet you. Am I correct in assuming that if I unlock you, you won't attempt to fight against me?"
"Why would you assume that?"
"Because your profession, your creed if you will, abhors violence. I have no doubt that you would be well able to defend yourself, but as you can see, I am carrying no weapons. I would like to talk with you, madam."
Scarlett stared the man in the eye, trying to gauge his
truthfulness. She had, of course, thoroughly researched Barnes before she came, like she always did since that disastrous incident with Madoc. Barnes seemed fairly honorable, for a man with as much wealth as he had. Despite her earlier fears, she didn't think that he was going to harm her. She eyed his massive arms and broad shoulders. She was stronger than she looked, but she would be no match for him in a fight.
After a moment's consideration, she nodded. "We can talk."
Barnes unlocked her cuffs and led her to a lavish study, where he poured her a glass of scotch. There was enough gold on the shelves to fill a hundred thousand teeth.
"How does a girl like you end up as a burglar?"
Scarlett scowled, though she accepted the glass. "That word is hardly appropriate."
Barnes rose a brow.
"If you know so much about me, then you must know my morals," Scarlett said. "I only take what ultimately won't be missed, and I make sure to donate at least seventy percent of my acquisitions to those who truly need it. That's hardly enough to be branded a burglar, like those people who come in with masks and guns and beat up homeowners."
"Stealing is stealing. You may practice it without violence, but it's not a victimless crime."
Scarlet felt herself bristling. "Crime? Do you want to talk about crime? Look around this room, Mr. Barnes. There is enough wealth in this single space for an entire family to leave poverty and send their children to university, so they don't waste away trying to pay their bills or debts in minimum wage jobs. You could stop babies from starving and people from serving jail time for 'stealing' what they need to survive. So tell me, what's the bigger criminal? Me, taking a little here and there from people who won't miss it, or you, stealing possibilities from future generations by hoarding your wealth?"