Page 3 of Sleigh Bells and Snowstorms
And she was just as likely to put a knife in my back as return the kiss.
Instead, I caressed her jaw before moving my hand to wrap around her throat. Her eyes flashed with lust. She liked it.
“The things I’m going to do to you tonight,” I said, my voice low, and her mouth lifted in a smile. “Do you know what I want?”
“What?”
“You, in the shower.”
“What are you implying? That I’m too dirty for you?”
“On the contrary. I like it dirty.” I tightened my grip on her throat, and she whimpered. “Can you be a good girl for me?”
Her smile was wicked. She was not a good girl, but she’d play one for me.
“Take your clothes off, get in the shower, and lather up that exquisite body so you’re nice and slick. Then I’ll join you. We’re going to spend our evening doing unspeakable things.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Call it a threat.”
She bit her lower lip, and I let her go, taking a step back. With a sultry smile, she sauntered into the bathroom and softly shut the door.
Without a second’s hesitation, I got to work. Pulling a small tool from an inside pocket, I used it to jam the lock on the bathroom door. It wouldn’t hold her for long, but I only needed a minute.
“She fell for it, didn’t she?” Maple asked.
The shower turned on. She hadn’t noticed the door.
“We knew she would,” I answered, speaking quietly as I went straight for the safe in the small closet. Our intel indicating Delphine had a weakness for assertive men in nice suits had proven out. “It’s why you sent me.”
“It could still be a trap.”
“Everything in this line of work could be a trap.” I took another device out of my pocket and attached the electrical probes to the lock. In a few seconds, it would reprogram the code, and I’d be in. If that didn’t work, the small explosive I also carried would do the trick. It would make more noise—and make my exit more difficult—but it was a suitable backup plan.
“And you’re more than happy to spring their traps, aren’t you?”
“Just let me do my job.”
Delphine’s voice came through the bathroom door. “Arthur?”
The reprogrammed code flashed on the screen, and I entered it, disengaging the lock. My lips curled in a smile of triumph as I pulled out a carefully wrapped bundle and peeked inside.
It was an ancient Greek terra-cotta figurine—now worn with age—of a woman in a long dress. The priceless piece had been stolen from a private collection in Germany.
I worked for a secretive organization of thief hunters who tracked down stolen jewelry, art, and antiquities. Often theartifacts were priceless, like the Greek figurine I held in my hand. I was there to steal it back.
The shower turned off, but Delphine didn’t call out again.
“I have it,” I whispered to Maple as I pocketed my tools and slipped the figurine into my jacket.
“I have a strong suspicion you need to get out,” Maple said. “Now.”
Delphine rattled the door. “Arthur? What’s going on?”
A second later, I was out the door.
“I’m out,” I said, heading for the stairs. We were on the eighth floor, but I couldn’t risk an elevator.
