Eine reizende Diebin (German Edition)

now?”
    Marcus smiled. Olivia was trying to take the offensive.
    “You’ll have to deal with the consequences, I’m afraid.”
    Sure, there had to be consequences. He’d have to punish her. And he suddenly knew exactly how.
    He took a couple of steps toward her, and instinctively, she backed away. Her eyes went to the weapon in his hand. He shrugged and placed it on his desk, then continued his approach until he stood only a foot from her. Considering that he was much taller and heavier than she, he knew she couldn’t overwhelm him even if he was unarmed. If she tried, she’d soon enough find out that he had a Black Belt in Karate.
    Olivia stared at him, then back at the gun on the desk. Was she trying to figure out if she could get past him and reach for it? Turn the tables on him?
    Slowly, he shook his head. “Olivia, Olivia,” he said as if talking to a naughty child.
    Naughty, yes. A child, no.
    How naughty was exactly what he wanted to find out.
    “We won’t need a gun, and we won’t need the police. I think we can take care of this between us.”
    She raised an eyebrow. “How?”
    He gazed at her luscious mouth.
    “A trade.”
    “Name your price. I’ve put sufficient money aside for unfortunate events like these.”
    Was she thinking she could buy her way out of the situation? Yes, he’d let her pay, but English pounds weren’t his currency of choice. “I’m not talking cold hard cash.”
    “A transfer to an offshore account then to avoid the taxman?” She offered with a knowing smile.
    He moved his head closer and dropped his voice to a whisper.
    His hand came up to stroke her jaw, before his fingers traced along her neck.
    She shivered. He could only echo the feeling.
    “You know what I want.”
    “You must be joking.” Finally she was catching on to his way of thinking.
    “I don’t have a sense of humor when it comes to my prized possessions.”
    Olivia swallowed hard. “What kind of trade are you offering?”
    He looked straight into her eyes. “Prison or my bed. The choice is yours.”
     

4
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    His bed!
    Of course Olivia had suspected what he wanted. She was a woman after all, but to hear his proposal roll over his lips so smoothly made her insides tremble. She’d seen that look before. It was the same he’d given her in the foyer of the auction house. And it had made her feel queasy then. It was worse now.
    Having a man like Marcus lust after her, desire her, want her in his bed, was a powerful turn-on, despite the precarious situation she found herself in. She could feel his breath on her face, the searing heat of his body bringing her cells to a fever pitch. His fingers on her neck burned like molten lava.
    She couldn’t think clearly with him standing so close to her. She felt her nipples harden at the thought of his proposal. A night with a sexy man in exchange for being let off the hook? Why not take it? What did she have to lose?
    But what if it was a trick?
    “What guarantee do I have that you won’t go to the police anyway?”
    He shrugged. “Only my word.”
    She didn’t know him. Yes, she’d done her research on him, but it didn’t mean anything. She didn’t know whether his word was good or not.
    She felt him move closer, his thighs brushing against hers. She inhaled sharply.
    “Maybe we should seal our deal with a kiss?” Marcus suggested.
    Olivia gave him a panicked look. “I haven’t accepted it.”
    “Maybe not consciously, but your body . . . ” He let his eyes sweep over her breasts, focusing on the hardened nipples that pressed through her sweater.
    Darn traitors!
    To emphasize his point, his hand trailed down to one of the peaks and touched it, swirling his finger around it then lightly taking the little bud between his thumb and index finger, squeezing gently.
    A stifled moan escaped her lips. This man would be her undoing. She felt like melting into his touch. Would it be too forward if she took his hand and guided it under her sweater to touch her naked skin? How long had it been since a man had touched her this intimately?
    God, what was she thinking?
    “What guarantee do I have?” she heard herself say. Was she crazy even thinking about accepting his offer? Was it any surprise that she couldn’t think clearly with his masculine scent drugging her?
    “I’m going to kiss you, and if you don’t believe me after that . . . ”
    He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead his mouth moved closer.