The Billionaire’s Family Jewels:
Flesh and Stone
by
Spice Pendleton
Published by
Roddick and Price Books
Edited by
J. J. Hadlin
Copyright © 2017 Spice Pendleton
Ebook Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
Table of Contents
A Real Adonis
Waltzing Right In
The Joys of an Opal
Pure and Simple Lust
A Hard Case
Another Angle
Cinderella
A New Beginning
Preview: MacLeod’s Rapture
Preview: The Marshal’s Way
About the Author(s) and Other Books
The Billionaire’s Family Jewels
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The Norsemen Quench Incidents
The VSI (Vampire Scene Investigators)
And more!
A Real Adonis
I tossed the keys of my red Mercedes-Benz convertible to the valet and yawned my way through the building’s revolving glass doors. Another sleepless night. I rubbed my knotted neck muscles. I could really use a good stress reliever. What I wouldn’t give for a quick hookup right about now, an orgasm or two would hit the spot—or G-Spot as it were. I grinned.
“Good afternoon, Miss Darke,” a security guard posted near the information desk called out. He was a ginger, early thirties, fit, and rating a solid eight on my personal Stud-Scale. The tribal tattoo disappearing up the sleeve of his crisp, white shirt gave him a nice bad boy touch.
I shot him a smile and headed for the bank of brass elevators, sizing up my reflection in the mirrored walls along the way. I’d worn a thin silk blouse to combat the Arizona summer heat, along with a pair of leggings that amplified my bubble butt—a rear end that drew men’s eyes like a magnet. The rest of me was a hot mess—thanks to my convertible. My hair tumbled over my shoulders in a windswept, caramel highlighted mass of curls. I had a thing for speed. Nothing sang to my soul more than the wind in my face. My cousin, Paul, called me a thrill seeker. He was probably right. I shrugged at my reflection, my hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. I wasn’t changing anytime soon.
The elevator door opened with a ping and I stepped inside, riding it up to the tenth floor.
Paul had called me an hour ago, begging me to come in. “At least, just talk to me, Gia,” he’d implored. “This case is a tough nut to crack. It’s a hard one. You’re the best we’ve got.”
He was right. I was the best. As a fifth-generation jewel thief—or a hardware logistics engineer as I liked to call myself—I’d learned the tricks of the trade at a very young age. I’d pulled off my first job—the famed Queen Sophie Sapphire Heist—at the tender age of seven. No one at the Metropolitan Museum of Art had suspected the little brown-haired girl with pigtails and two missing front teeth, but that day felt like eons ago. Now, many successful years later, I no longer looked for work, and I had more money than I could spend, and of late, even the thrills seemed few and far between.
“If you must know, Paul, I’m bored with it all,” I’d rhymed into the phone.
“Come on,” Paul persisted. “Just talk to me, Gia.”
After about thirty minutes of bantering back and forth, I’d finally caved in and agreed to talk—just to shut him up. After all, Paul was family. We Darkes had always been, and still were, a close-knit group.
The elevator arrived, opening to a set of glass double doors with “Darke Commercial Enterprises” painted in red, block lettering. I breezed past the perky receptionist and stalked to Paul’s office, one of those natural sunlight affairs with floor-to-ceiling plate glass walls and windows. Paul liked to see who was coming down the hall for him—a necessary thing in our line of business.
As he caught sight of me, my cousin’s worried face broke into a relieved grin.
“So, what’s the big emergency?” I asked, walking through the door of his office.
“It’s a relief you’re here,” he said, stepping out from behind his shiny black desk to greet me, folder in hand. He was a slim man, a bit on the short side, and completely bald on top with thinning, black eyebrows and a wispy mustache that I absolutely detested. “Am I ever glad to see you, Gia.”
“Likewise, though not for the same reasons,” I replied with a droll smile. Of all my cousins, Paul was my favorite. “Fair warning on this job you’re about to pitch: I’m not interested.”
“Just look at it first,” he pigheadedly insisted as he waved me towards a small conference table near the window. “Take a seat.”
As I settled back into the luxury of a nappa leather chair, he pushed the folder across the table with his index finger. Grabbing the folder, I flipped it open to an eight-by-ten photo. I recognized it at once: the fabled Osiris Opal, clocking in at over a whopping three thousand carats—polished carats. A ripple of interest flooded through me. I couldn’t help it.
“Hasn’t this been in the Carr family for generations?” I asked. “Don’t they always keep this thing tucked away, hidden under an impenetrable, state-of-the-art, virtual rat’s nest of lasers?”
“Uh-huh.” Paul sent me a smug grin, knowing he’d piqued my interest. “And it’s coming out of hiding for a charity event.”
I snorted and flipped the page to see another photo, this one of a wildly handsome man in his early thirties. His dangerously fascinating gray eyes caught my attention first, and then my gaze trailed over his strong, straight nose and down to the cynical twist of a smile hovering at the corner of his chiseled lips. Yep, he was a real Adonis and no mistake.
“Whoa, there.” I whistled, shaking my head. “Where have you been all my life?”
Paul chuckled. “Nathan Carr,” he said, sitting down on the conference table to swing his leg. “Billionaire playboy.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re sending me up against a playboy? Granted, he’s gorgeous, but how hard could it be? He’s probably more concerned about choosing which girl to wrap his arms around at night than anything else.” I laughed.
My cousin snorted. “Not this guy, Gia. Carr’s security has never before been breached. He’s a real hard-ass. Has his fingers in every piece of the pie. He knows every inch of his operation.”
I snorted. Oh, my crafty cousin was playing me like a guitar. He knew exactly which string to pluck. A never-before-been-breached security system? It was like waving the red matador cape before a maddened bull. I couldn’t stop myself from charging ahead.
“Well, maybe we’ll see about that,” I murmured, still ogling the billionaire’s photo. I was bored, after all. Exchanging the fabled Osiris Opal with my business card might be a tad entertaining. If only I could see the expression on this handsome dude’s face when he saw it…oh well. At the very least, such a thing would only cement my already legendary jewel-thief status—for another century or so. I tapped my finger on the table. “I might be up for this. Depends on who else is going after it, though. Anyone you know on this job?”
Paul didn’t reply.
As his silence continued, I lifted my eyes to his, surprised, and then I saw why he hadn’t answered. He didn’t need to. His face said it all. “Not the Valenzi?” I breathed. Of late, they’d made quite the name for themselves—ever sinc
e my ex, Jason, had joined their crew.
Paul sighed. “Even if you can’t get it, Gia, we can’t let them touch it,” he said, dropping his voice low. “Our reputation—”
“I’m in,” I cut him short, standing up. “Don’t worry, Paul. I’m all in.”
Waltzing Right In
I zipped up my dark leather jacket, grabbed my backpack from the passenger seat, and adjusted my black, spandex leggings. Yeah, they accentuated my curves, but I wasn’t going for sexy right now. I was on the job—and that meant comfort before everything else. A few blocks away, the Carr Building rose above its neighbors, a massive structure of steel and reflective, amber-tinted glass. A bona fide fortress. My goal? The office at the very top.
At half past midnight, everyone in this part of town had long since gone. There wasn’t a soul in sight. But midway down the block, a white van zipped around the corner and pulled up alongside me. Three men got out. I recognized the shorter two men as members of the Valenzi jewel-snatching crew, but the third surprised me a bit. It was my ex-boyfriend, Jason. So, Paul was right. He’d joined our competitors. Suddenly, the deserted sidewalk felt crowded.
“Evening, Gia,” my ex-boyfriend greeted me in a superior tone. He reached into the van and pulled out a bulky backpack tricked out with every electronic gadget you could imagine.
I rolled my eyes. “Way too much equipment there, Jason,” I said, nodding at his backpack and then I dropped my eyes to his crotch. Was I going there? “Not enough where it counts.” Yeah, I went there.
Even in the surrounding dim light, I could see his brows forming a dark scowling line.
Already feeling better, I grinned and resumed my trek down the sidewalk.
“Go home and paint your nails, Gia,” he called after me.
Really? Was that the best he could do?
“Leave this job to a crack team who can actually handle it,” he added. “You won’t get anywhere near the target. Not a chance.”
I snorted and tossed a glance over my shoulder. Like fools, they’d overdressed and over prepared. They’d decked themselves out in full body harnesses and tactical rappelling gear with coils of rope slung over their shoulders, laser dart rifles jammed in their packs, and who knew what else, stuffed where.
“Yeah, you have fun tonight,” I called back, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice. I gave them five minutes, tops, before they’d come running back my way with the cops nipping their heels.
“Don’t think we can handle it?” Jason challenged in a belligerent tone.
Defensive, much? Geez, what had I ever seen in him? He wasn’t even that good in bed. I ignored them and kept moving down the street. After all, I didn’t want to scare them off. I could use them. The way they were going, they’d make my job hella easier tonight. I honestly didn’t want them going anywhere but to that Carr building—fast.
They sprinted past me then, acting all dramatic and obviously imagining themselves to be Navy SEALs. I watched them, shaking my head in wonder. Why had I stuck with Jason so long? A year of my life wasted, right there.
I paused, giving them a head start and glanced around, slightly bored. In the distance, I heard the trills of a mockingbird. The gathering clouds on the horizon had blotted out the stars to the north. A storm. Hopefully, it’d reach the city and cool things down a bit. I yawned and stretched a few more minutes before resuming my midnight stroll under the light of the desert moon.
I was about one block away from the Carr office complex when the bottom third of the main building lit up like a beacon. I laughed. Yep, right on schedule. I glanced down at my watch, guessing I’d see Jason and his buddies hightailing it for their getaway van within the next ten seconds. Idiots. Why hadn’t they used their brains? They should’ve gotten a real job, just like I had this very afternoon. Why rappel or scale glass walls when building access was just a simple card key swipe away? But then, the hiring manager at Citywide Janitorial Services had been particularly fascinated with my bubble butt—and since Jason didn’t have one of those, he most likely wouldn’t have gotten a card key job, anyway.
As expected and approximately eight seconds later, Jason and his buddies raced past me, swearing.
I giggled and kept walking.
Moments later, I skipped across the street to the Carr building’s maintenance entrance, and yanking my brand spanking new lanyard from my backpack, slapped my card key against the reader next to the door. The light flashed green and the steel door unlocked with a loud click.
“Bingo,” I chortled and stepped inside.
I entered a small reception area devoid of all furniture with just a rubber mat on the floor. Directly ahead, a steel reinforced tempered glass window with a transaction slot took up half the wall next to another gray, metal door. To the left, I saw a red button with a sign underneath that read “Push for help”.
I pushed the button with my thumb and squinted through the window, seeing only a handheld scanner resting on a white Formica desktop and a door in the wall behind. The door opened and a middle-aged man dressed in a Carr Security uniform stepped through.
“Busy night, huh? Lotsa lights out there,” I greeted him with a smile, wiggling my card key through the window before sliding it into the transaction slot.
The man smiled in reply, and picking up my card key, scanned it before reaching under the desktop to buzz me in. “We get fools around here at least twice a week, but we still gotta check things out,” he said in a long-suffering tone. “Come on in.”
The door popped open and I stepped inside. He led me through the next door, down a narrow hallway, up a short flight of steps, and finally into the building’s impressive white marble-columned lobby.
“Head right past the elevators,” the guard said, moving to join his buddies grouped around an array of security monitors. “Maintenance is down the first corridor to your left. Gotta run.”
I grinned. Just as I’d expected, Jason had handed me penthouse access on a golden platter. With all eyes locked on the building’s exterior, they weren’t even watching me. I strode across the lobby and past the elevators, but I didn’t head towards the maintenance department. Instead, I made my way to a particular set of wires that would grant me access to the plush penthouse elevator itself.
Seconds later, I stepped inside. “Note to self,” I murmured as I zipped up to the very top of the building. “Send Jason a thank you card.”
A few dizzying seconds later, the elevator pinged and the doors slid open.
I’d arrived.
Stepping out, I sprinted past the reception area and entered the maze of curved glass, steel, and marbled-lined corridors leading to Nathan Carr’s private office door.
The additional layer of security there didn’t stand a chance. In seconds, I’d disabled that, too.
And then…I was inside.
The Joys of an Opal
I glanced around a dimly lit, cavernous room of an office with gleaming golden fixtures, polished mahogany-paneled walls, and a luxurious gray carpet underfoot. Hell, there was even a large, river-stone fireplace covering one wall. A fireplace. In Arizona. Obviously, this dude had more money than he knew what to do with. And the desk? It was huge, massive, no doubt made of the most expensive wood and probably worth ten times more than the unique Pininfarina’s Aresline Xten chair nestled behind it—a chair that snagged my complete attention. I recognized the brand at once. I’d, uh, sat—maybe on someone—in one of those before. The chair was crazy cool, including its cool one-and-a-half million-dollar price tag.
I commenced a quick inspection, wondering where a dude like Nathan Carr would hide his safe—behind which original Picasso in its gilded frame? —when my eyes fell on a large, metallic object right next to his desk, the glow of the city lights filtering through the window illuminating its large, metallic square shape. I laughed. I liked this billionaire playboy’s style. What guts. Just putting his safe right out there as a kind of come-and-get-me challenge. Well, I’d take his challenge and
show him a thing or two. Stalking over to the safe, I ran a hand over its cold surface. A Sentinel ES-X20. Commercial. Top of the line. A formidable foe, and most definitely the right kind of hardware that could protect the famed, one-of-a-kind Osiris Opal.
From everyone but me.
Grabbing my chalk dust, I blew a handful into the air and switched on my flashlight, looking for lasers first. I found them—as expected. A few minutes later, they were no more. Tack on a couple more minutes to that and we had one heavy safe door silently swinging wide open.
I grinned. I was cookin’. I was even ahead of schedule.
Popping the base of the flashlight into my mouth, I directed the beam into the safe’s interior.
There it lay, in all its glory, a cool three thousand carats of opal and a masterpiece of pearly radiance. It was huge, just a shade too big for me to hold in one hand.
As I reached for my prize, a sexy baritone murmured from close behind me, “I don’t believe we’ve met, Miss…?”
Wow. That voice. Deep. The timbre alone could send shivers down a girl’s spine. But then reality intruded and I caught a shocked, silent breath. Well, this was a first for Gia Darke, finest jewel thief on the west coast. I’d had a few close calls over the years, but no one had ever caught me red-handed before. Either this man had to be part cat and had just silently entered the office, or he’d been watching me search the place the entire time.
But I always had a fallback plan. Always. And I’d done my homework.
I whipped out my fake credentials as a tall, dark figure with shoulders as wide as a linebacker’s emerged from the nearby shadows. Two weeks ago, one Nathan Carr had signed with Virtuoso Insurance, one of the savviest antiquities insurance companies in the business.
Flashing my creds in the approaching dude’s general direction, I replied in crisp, no-nonsense tones, “Crystal Holtz, here. Virtuoso Insurance contracted me to insure the Osiris Opal’s safety. Can’t say I’m too impressed. I should never have gotten this far. If I’d been a real thief, you’d have lost this little gem by now, Mister…?”
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