by Blake, Zoe
She watched him as he took in her words. A look of utter disbelief crossed his stern features. “That’s what this is about? That piece of shit, Doug?”
Mirage shook her head. “No. Not Doug. Dev. You killed Dev.”
“I know who I killed, Mira. His name was Doug.”
Her brow wrinkled. Wait, she had always assumed Dev was short for Devon. How could she be in love with a man and not know his real name? Of course, she had never told him her real name either.
“So you don’t deny it?”
“Why would I? The guy was an asshole. He more than deserved what he got.”
“I loved him.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Don’t say that! You don’t know. You don’t know anything about me!” she yelled.
“I know you are a beautiful, vivacious, stubborn, feisty woman who makes a man want to strangle you and kiss you at the same time. I know you feel things deeply and completely. I know you try so hard to keep a tight rein on every aspect of your life that when something forces you to let go, it is like watching the birth of a star. You are all light and color and energy when you come, baby. Someone like that couldn’t possibly truly be in love with a shallow, lying piece of shit like Devious Doug. He used you. Everyone knew. Even The Syndicate. All those handpicked jobs. How he pushed you into dangerous situations for more and more money. It was all a lie, baby. He was using you. Only telling you what you wanted to hear.”
Tears coursed down her cheeks at his words. The truth of it. She realized now she had so desperately just wanted to experience something normal like falling in love. Something common and domestic and boring. She had wanted to be in love with a boyfriend. She had wanted it so badly, that normal fantasy, that she had overlooked all the flags and warnings. How she was getting less and less money for the items he fenced. The unexplained absences. When that dream of normalcy was taken away, she’d reverted back to her dark, underworld training. Revenge was her only thought. Her only focus. In her grief, she had turned Dev’s memory into some idealized version of him. Magnified her love for him to the point of obsession to avenge his killer. Still, she needed to know. Closure was an illusion, but perhaps she could get some answers.
“Why? Why did you kill him?”
Paine shrugged his shoulders. “The Syndicate ordered it.”
Mirage watched him intently. There was something he wasn’t telling her. “What is it? Tell me.”
Before telling her, Paine grabbed the crumpled blanket from the bed and placed it over her shoulders.
It was a kind, caring gesture, and Mirage resented the hell out of it.
He was shattering her world, but worse…he was pitying her for it. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, least of all his. Especially not for being a fool. Falling for the lies of some asshole because he called her pretty and said he wanted to be her boyfriend? How stupid could she be?
“Tell me,” she repeated.
“He was getting involved in the sex traffic trade. That is one line even The Syndicate will not cross. It threatened their interests. So they ordered him killed.”
“Why you? Why did it have to be you? I mean I know…your name…and reputation but you’re mainly a thief for them not an assassin.”
His jaw tightened and his lips thinned. “I’ve answered enough questions. Tell me about the hit.”
Mirage cringed. “I thought you were going to kill me after…after…I didn’t…I’m still not sure you—”
“Tell me about the hit, Mira.”
“The contract was accepted five hours ago,” she whispered.
“Who?”
“Pearly.”
Ted “Pearly” Gates was one of the best in the business. He was clean, efficient and more importantly…fast. Once accepting a contract, it was usually only twenty-four hours before it was completed.
Grabbing the wine glass, Paine drained it as he turned his back on her for a moment. Turning back, he said, “Pearly accepted a hit against me? Me? I’ve played poker with that backstabbing dick.”
Mirage shrugged her shoulders. “He said if he didn’t do it, someone else would. Plus I…I offered him the…the Jubilee.”
“I fucking knew that heist was you!” said Paine as he pointed at her.
The Jubilee was a seventy-eight carat uncut diamond found in Russia. The seller had announced it was to be put on the market, but it had disappeared from a highly-secured Geneva bank before the auction could take place. It was a theft of pure mastery. His first thought at the time was it had to be his girl, Mira. Even then he’d thought of her as his.
Sending him a shy smile, Mirage just nodded her head. She had kept that particular heist a secret from everyone. Even Dev. In retrospect, her instincts were probably telling her something was wrong even back then. She’d just refused to listen to them.
“Well, I guess if a friend is going to betray you, it might as well be for a diamond worth tens of millions.”
Paine reached for her. Mirage flinched as she craned her body back as far as the binds would allow.
“Are you going to kill me now?”
“No, you stupid fool. We need to go find Pearly and clean up your mess.”
Chapter 6
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m sorry. Did I start that sentence with ‘if it pleases her majesty’?” came his angry retort.
“I am not riding about the countryside with a man who has a contract out on his head!”
Paine curled his fingers into fists as if to keep from strangling her. “It’s because of you I have that contract on my head.”
Mirage tossed her head, her tawny waves falling over her shoulder. “Moot point. Besides, I’m not entirely convinced you’re still not going to try to kill me.”
Paine grabbed her by the chin. His eyes flashed an icy blue. “At this very moment, neither am I, kitten.” He placed a hard kiss on her lips before turning away.
“Will you at least untie me and give me some clothes?”
His only response was a bark of laughter over his shoulder as he left the bedroom.
* * *
A half hour later she was bundled up in a blanket, naked as jay bird underneath, in the passenger seat of his car. Since she’d been told in no uncertain terms she could just as easily be riding in the trunk, Mirage was making the best of it.
“I’m staying at the Dorchester in Mayfair.”
“How nice for you,” he responded as he directed the car in the opposite direction.
“Hey! You are seriously not going to take me back to my hotel so I can get some clothes?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t have any money or ID or my phone,” she complained. She never carried anything that could possibly identify her when working on a job. She even hid her room key somewhere outside the hotel to wait her return since she knew they could also be tracked.
Paine gave her a once over, then a quick wink. “I figure that should slow your escape down to at least half speed. If Pearly is going to call off the hit, I need you by my side to do it, and you have a nasty little habit of disappearing on me. I still haven’t figured out how the fuck you managed to get out of that safe house in D.C. so quickly without going through the bedroom window or the front door.” His voice held a hint of pride mixed with appreciation.
Mirage only half hid her smile.
“What can I say? I’m a natural,” came her saucy response.
It wasn’t hard to be a natural when your grandfather had taught you how to break into a home from the time you were six years old. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t a bad man. Hell, he wasn’t even a criminal until after…after…that night. The night her parents were killed in a car accident. As a retired steel worker, he didn’t have the money to support a little girl and was desperate to not have the State take her away. So he did what he had to do to keep her. He did it out of love. He even made most of it into a game. And it was fun, until he got arrested when she was seventeen. Her beloved grandfather ha
d died in prison. She was left alone. A life of crime was all she had ever known. The only stable thing in her life as odd as that seems. There was no turning back at that point. She did decide from that moment forward she would be the best there was. She would plan and do each heist with precision. Control. Control. Control. It was how she lived her life. No risks. No unknowns. Everything planned and researched.
Her attraction to Paine was not a part of the plan.
His ability to seize control of her body and even her mind was not a part of the plan.
Her submissive reaction to the dominance of his touch was definitely not a part of the plan.
And she wouldn’t even think about the spanking daddy kink being part of the plan.
Nothing was going according to plan, and Mirage was trying very hard not to panic.
She had been a fool to believe Dev cared and loved her. She would not allow herself to go down that same path with Paine. A man who still very well may kill her.
She had to get control back.
She had to escape.
* * *
“Here you go,” said Paine as he tossed a white, plastic shopping bag onto her lap.
Mirage opened the bag. Closing it with a huff, she sent him a glare.
“What? You wanted clothes,” he said with a smirk.
“Seriously?” said Mirage as she pulled out one of the items and held it up for his inspection.
“I got you a t-shirt and yoga pants. I noticed that’s what you like to wear.” Paine said looking for all the world as innocent as a newborn babe.
Mirage’s entire wardrobe consisted of black t-shirts and black yoga pants. The only variation was the occasional long-sleeved t-shirt. Despite what you see on television, fiber evidence is no good to the police if it is a common fiber that cannot be traced. There was nothing more common and boring than black t-shirts and yoga pants, except for maybe jeans but those fibers are traceable. The outfit was ideal for heists and quick escapes, and if she were to ever have to leave her luggage behind, her wardrobe would tell the police nothing about her, her travels or her personality. Control. Control. Control. Even her wardrobe was held under rigid control.
Except for now, when she was with Paine.
Mirage held up a bright pink t-shirt with the image of a kitten on it and neon blue yoga pants. “Really?”
“What? The kitten is cute. It is what I think about whenever I look at you. An adorable sleek kitten…with a set of nasty claws.”
Mirage blushed at the strangely flattering comparison. Shaking off the warm sentiment toward him, she said, “And the blue neon pants? These are atrocious.”
Paine gave her a knowing smile. “It’s a lot harder to escape into thin air wearing a pair of neon pants. Besides it will be nice to see some color on you.”
Mirage’s dark eyes narrowed. “I hate you.”
Paine turned his attention back to the road. “So you keep saying,” he responded in a teasing sing-song voice.
She continued to dig in the bag. At the bottom was a tube of deep crimson lipstick. She shot Paine a questioning look.
The look of pure sexual possession and promise in his eyes was the only response she needed.
Mirage didn’t think her cheeks could blush any hotter.
She was quickly proven wrong when he refused to allow her to go to the ladies’ room to change.
“You just want me to change right here in the car?”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before…or will again.”
Mirage struggled to maneuver the blanket so he didn’t see so much as a flash of skin as she put on the clothes, all the while muttering how she hoped Pearly didn’t miss his mark.
“What was that?”
“I said we’re off to a banging start,” Mirage retorted…looking for all the world as innocent as a newborn babe.
* * *
Mirage could feel his warm hand brush her cheek but still pretended to be asleep. The car had stopped a few minutes ago. They had been driving for at least three hours. She hadn’t bothered to ask him where because she knew he wouldn’t tell her. She could feel him unbuckle her seat belt and then gather her into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, liking the feel of his soft flannel shirt and the smell of his cologne.
Still she pretended to be asleep. She didn’t want him to know she liked the feel of his arms holding her, or that she felt strangely safe. It reminded her how she’d felt when he’d broken down the barricaded door in Istanbul. With the bright light shining behind him, all she could make out was this tall, imposing figure. She hadn’t known if he was the military or the police or any number of other possible enemies. Then he had knelt before her and wiped her cheek and she’d known she was safe and was going to be all right.
Except then she’d run, just as she was planning to do now. Feeling safe and warm, relying on someone, all of those were foreign, frightening emotions for her. Perhaps that is why she’d convinced herself she was in love with Dev. He’d just been someone who was there, who understood her life choices, who didn’t judge, who could let her pretend everything was normal, but he wasn’t someone who made her feel safe or protected. If he had, she would have run from him too.
She was jostled a bit as Paine opened the door to wherever he was taking her. The place was cold with a musty, shut-in smell. Paine placed her gently on something soft but firm. It was probably a sofa she thought, still refusing to open her eyes. She could hear him moving about. There was a scraping sound then the smell of sulfur. Soon she heard the crackle pop of a fire. The room filled with the scent of pine and burning cedar. Tilting her head back slightly, she could feel the warmth from the flame.
Listening, there were sounds from the kitchen. She could hear the quiet clang of a metal pot hitting the stove, the whoosh sound of cabinets being opened and searched, and the chink of a utensil as it was laid against a china plate. If she listened closely, she could even swear Paine was humming a soft tune.
It all felt so domestic. So cozy.
So wrong.
They weren’t some cute couple in love on a holiday. They were two thieves hiding out from a contract killer whom she’d hired.
Two thieves who hated one another. Didn’t they?
Mirage threw aside the blanket and rose, taking in her surroundings. They were in a small, rustic cottage with bare stone walls, exposed timber beams and old, blown glass windows. The furniture was sturdy with a rich, royal blue upholstery. The room had a masculine feel because of the heavy wooden furnishings but with subtle feminine touches. A delicate vase was on the bookshelf. Pictures of wild flowers hung on the walls. Little lace doilies lay on all the small tables’ surfaces. The place was adorable. It felt like a home.
It made everything worse.
Mirage marched in the direction of the noise and found him in a tiny kitchen. The windows sent a honey glow of light into the darkness outside. She could see into the small yard with its vegetable garden and little, dilapidated picket fence and beyond to the open rough sea. They must be somewhere along the coast, thought Mirage.
“You’re just in time. I made macaroni and cheese…although without the milk, so I can’t be held responsible for how it tastes,” teased Paine with a wink. “We aren’t exactly expected guests here, so the larder wasn’t stocked. I did buy some wine when I got your clothes. Corkscrew is in the drawer. Why don’t you open the bottle for us?”
He was scooping the clumpy bright orange pasta into two bowls as he spoke. Casually. Calmly. As if he were talking to a date or…girlfriend.
“I’m not hungry, and the last thing I’m going to do is get drunk around you again.” The memory of Istanbul was at the front of her mind. She’d gotten drunk on whiskey while the world erupted into chaos around them. Memories of the passionate night that followed had Mirage ruthlessly pushing away the seductive pull of the shadows from the past.
“You’ll eat anyway, little one. You haven’t eaten all day,” he commanded.
“I s
aid I’m not fucking hungry.” Mirage pushed the bowl away.
Paine put down the pot and turned to stare at her.
“Careful, kitten. Your claws are showing.” He took a step toward her.
“So what if they are…I didn’t ask to be brought here!” Mirage took a step backward in spite of her defiant words.
“I’m beginning to believe you antagonize me on purpose, just so I’ll fuck you. Baby, if you want my cock, all you have to do is ask.”
“You’re a bastard and I hate you.” Her breath came in excited gasps as her cheeks began to heat, warming up for the fight ahead.
Paine took another step toward her as he reached to unbuckle his belt.
Mirage held out a hand in warning. “Don’t you dare!”
Paine whipped the belt free of his jean loops. He then held it between his hands as he took several steps toward her as Mirage quickly retreated.
“I think you like this. Crave it. The fight. The chase. The adrenaline rush when I capture you. Force you.”
Mirage’s eyes sparked with fury, hating the truth of his words. Her nipples tightened as her stomach clenched. She could feel herself get wet as he stealthily approached. Still she tried to deny it. “It’s not true,” she responded weakly.
“How do you want it this time, Mira? I already took that sweet cunt and tight ass of yours. I think this time I want your mouth.”
“Oh, god!” she moaned, resisting the urge to close her eyes and let his dark, dangerous words penetrate to her bones.
Paine lunged for her.
Mirage screamed and ran. Unfamiliar with the layout of the house, she ran blindly down one hall, around a corner then into another room. “Fuck!” It was a bedroom, with no exit.
She turned to flee.
Paine was standing in the doorway. He had tossed his shirt aside, exposing a strong muscular chest with thin swirls of black hair. Thick biceps. Wide shoulders. A flat stomach. Mirage devoured every inch…and hated herself for it.