Eine reizende Diebin (German Edition)

backwards, exposing the graceful column of her neck as if offering it up for a sacrifice.
    Bold. He liked that in a woman.
    Her lips beckoned to be kissed, smothered, crushed.
    “A kiss.”
    To his surprise, she shook her head. Why else would she have given her location away? She’d seen his hungry look in the auction hall, he was certain.
    “Tomorrow night,” she promised, her voice a silky trickle, rendering him breathless.
    His heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t turning him down completely. He could wait twenty-four hours, couldn’t he? His throbbing cock indicated a clear no , but his brain overrode his baser needs.
    “Tomorrow night?”
    She nodded and traced her index finger over his lower lip. The touch startled and aroused him at the same time. Keeping his eyes on hers, his tongue snaked out and lapped against her finger. Her eyelids dropped to half-mast as she held her breath. Encouraged by her reaction, he pulled her finger into his mouth and sucked on it.
    Her skin was delicious, tasting of citrus fruit and vanilla blossoms. He saw her chest rise as she took in a breath and filled her lungs.
    He reached forward and touched her silky blouse, stroking lightly over her breast. The absence of a bra surprised him, making him release an involuntary moan. Another second of this and he’d come right in his trousers.
    She withdrew her finger from his mouth. “Eight o’clock at Claridge’s. You can buy me dinner first, and afterwards . . .”
    She left the sentence hanging, sending a tingle of anticipation through his groin.
    He knew the restaurant in Mayfair. In fact, he was a regular. And it wasn’t far from his home. Convenient. Ten minutes after dinner, she would tumble into his bed.
    “I can pick you up.”
    She shook her head. “I’ll meet you there.”
    “I’m Marcus M—”
    “I know who you are,” she interrupted.
    It didn’t surprise him. His face was known all over London and beyond. For a split second he wondered, whether that was the reason she was interested in him. What if? He decided that it didn’t matter. If it made it easier to get her into bed, even better.
    She stepped past him, her braless breast brushing against his arm, sending another lightning bolt through his body as she walked toward the exit.
    “Wait! Your name.”
    She turned briefly. “Olivia.”
    Then she was gone. Her scent and her touch lingered, the natural perfume of her skin impregnating the air around him, rendering it heavy with desire and promise.
     

2
    (Home) (to Chapter 2 in German)
     
    Olivia Hall pulled on her black boots, tucking the ends of her tight black trousers into them. She felt much more comfortable wearing those than the skirt she had donned the night before.
    She hated skirts. They constricted her movements and were impractical in case she had to get away quickly. Neither did she like the stilettos she’d worn at the auction house.
    But she knew men were suckers for high heels. Especially when they were on the end of legs clad in black stockings. So predictable. Really.
    Funny, how men turned out to always react the same way. Almost boring. She hadn’t met a mark yet, who hadn’t come after her when she’d adjusted her stockings. Maybe she should come up with a new hook next time, otherwise things might get dull. On the other hand, why introduce something new into the mix when the old tricks still worked and worked every time?
    This man wasn’t any different. Marcus Moncrieff, the wealthy art collector and entrepreneur. Olivia had watched him during the entire auction. She’d done her research on him. If she was anything, she was thorough. Before the bidding even started, she knew what he would bid on. That was why she was there.
    At some point, Olivia had thought the older gentleman who’d bid against him would win the prize, but Marcus hadn’t disappointed her. He’d outbid the man every time and it was clear he wouldn’t give up until the vestal armband was his.
    She liked that. A man who knew what he wanted. She understood it when she’d done her research on him. And he’d done exactly as predicted: Marcus had bought the artifact. As soon as the bidding on the item had ended, she’d gone into action.
    When he’d walked toward the back of the room with his friend, it had only been a matter of a few minutes until he’d noticed her. She’d virtually felt his hungry eyes all over her body when she’d adjusted the stockings, which really didn’t need adjusting.
    The