Eine reizende Diebin (German Edition)

man.
    Until Marcus.
    It was the armband, she was certain. That’s why she had to get it off. Once it was off, the hunger for him would disappear.
    It had to.
    “Anything?” she urged her cousin.
    Ray shook his head and gave her a resigned look. “Sorry, love, but I can’t get it open without breaking it. And I’m sure you don’t want me to do that. Your client won’t like it.”
    Olivia pushed back a tear. This was not what she wanted to hear.
    “Please, can’t you do anything?”
    “If what you say about the legend is true, then there’s only one way to open the clasp.”
    “No!”
    “You’ve got yourself into a right tizzy. Wish I could help.” His facial expression told her that he meant it and how much it pained him that he wasn’t able to do it.
    “I’ll have to think,” she said.
    He rose and took his tools. “You know where to reach me. Bye.”
    “Bye, Ray, and thanks for trying.” She felt resigned.
    She needed some rest, and she needed to think. There had to be another way. Each minute the armband was on her arm, she felt her longing for Marcus increase. It wasn’t a feeling she liked. It made her feel vulnerable.
    She was an independent woman. She didn’t need a man.
    All night long, she was possessed of erotic dreams featuring Marcus and herself as the main characters. She woke exhausted and none the wiser. If anything, it was getting worse.
    Over breakfast, she absentmindedly scribbled on her notepad, and when she looked at it, realized she’d written Olivia Moncrieff. His last name.
    What the hell? What was she? Thirteen? This had to stop!
    ***
    Marcus felt like banging his head against the wall. His search had come up with nothing. Thomas was still out working his way through the last batch of alumni records and photos at Birkbeck College. Marcus already worked on a list of universities and colleges in the rest of England as well as Scotland.
    He’d barely slept the night before. How could he? Olivia’s scent was still in his sheets, and every time it drifted into his nose, he had another hard-on. It was pure torture, so much so that he’d spent the rest of the night on the sofa in the living room.
    He contemplated involving the police, who had better resources than he did. They could find her for him, but then how would he get her off the hook? He didn’t want her in prison, and what if there were other thefts she could be connected to? Even if he then withdrew his accusations, she’d still be arrested. No, it was too risky. He had to find Olivia by himself.
    He hadn’t shaved and was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt when the phone rang.
    “Moncrieff.”
    “It’s Thomas. I’ve got her name.”
    Relief flooded through him.
    “Thank God.”
    “Her name’s Olivia Hall. She graduated with a BA in art history six years ago. Looked just as cute then as she looks now,” Thomas commented.
    “Thanks, Thomas.”
    Olivia. She’d told him her real name.
    “So you don’t want her address then?” He knew Thomas was grinning even though he couldn’t see his face.
    “You have her address?”
    “Got a pen?”
    A few seconds later Marcus had written down her address and disconnected the call. She lived in Central London. It would take him less than twenty minutes to get to her place.
    He needed to shave, then change clothes, then—
    The door bell interrupted his hasty plans. He was in the right mood to ignore it, not wanting to lose a minute. But an impatient second ring made him stalk toward the door anyway.
    He yanked it open and froze.
    Bloody hell!
    “You have to take this darn armband off me,” Olivia demanded, her voice annoyed as she brushed past him into the house.
    “Nice to see you too,” he responded as he let the entrance door fall shut and followed her into the open plan living room. He meant to be sarcastic, but he’d actually told her the truth. It was nice to see her.
    His cock awakened at the sight of her luscious curves.
    “Take it off now!” Her face was flushed, her entire body tense when she turned to him. Her eyes were pleading, her lips just as red as when she’d been in his bed.
    “Is that why you came back?”
    His tried to sound calm, not wanting to betray the storm raging in him. In a few minutes, he’d sling her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs to throw her back in his bed. Then he’d punish her for running out on him.
    “You shouldn’t have messed with the legend, idiot! You should have never put it on me,” Olivia