Chapter Four
Bella Diamond just kidnapped me. Maybe if I’m lucky, she’ll make me her sex slave.
We walk out of the locker room and head to the nearest exit, which leads outside to the back alley.
The truth is, I could easily overpower her and get away.
But I’m way too curious to see where this goes.
Find out exactly what she wants from me.
Because things just got interesting and, for now, I’m willing to play along.
Ever since I first laid eyes on her, I’ve been fascinated.
Maybe a little captivated, too. Since she’s always in some kind of disguise, I don’t even know what she really looks like.
I wonder if any of the many characters she plays is even partly truthful.
Right now, I’m seeing dark tendrils escape her hoodie, and I think it might be her real color.
The last time I saw her, she had long blonde hair with bangs.
I have to say, this deep brown shade suits her much better. It complements her skin tone.
Something is off, though, and I think she might be wearing contacts. Gray doesn’t seem right on her. If I were a betting man, I’d say her true eye color is lighter. Striking even.
She gives me a little push out the door, and I smirk.
Such a feisty little thing. Glancing down, I see she’s clutching that stun gun like it could actually stop me.
News flash, Miss Diamond. It can’t. She has no idea how fast I can move, some of that due to Linc’s training sessions, but I’ve always been fast on my feet.
The moment we step into the alley, I abruptly stop. An Aston Martin Vanquish in supernova red waits, hazards flashing, like a fucking chariot to the gods. It’s one of the best-looking cars out there. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill ride. And I should know—I almost bought one exactly like it.
“Does this beauty belong to you?” My voice drips with awe.
“Get in,” she hisses, opening the door and ignoring my question.
“With pleasure.” I slide into the passenger seat and take a moment to admire the interior before looking up through the panoramic roof.
Damn, maybe I should’ve bought an Aston Martin.
A classic British beauty with so much character.
It’s only a two-seater, so I grunt when she tosses my gym bag over the console and it hits me in the groin.
“Isn’t there room in the back for this?”
She slips in behind the wheel. “My bags are in the boot. You can hold it.”
Interesting. Boot instead of trunk. She chose a British phrase, no hesitation. She also chose a British car. Makes me wonder if she’s faking the American accent.
Bella starts the vehicle, and it’s the smoothest, most seductive rumble. Not wild, loud and chaotic like my Italian sports car. More of a purr than a growl. It’s refined and lovely. A lot like my captor.
She pushes her hood back and off, and her heady jasmine scent surrounds me. Sweet, yet sultry. I’d know it anywhere.
I turn in my seat to study her profile. The woman is gorgeous. Her very dark brown hair is pulled back in a low ponytail which only emphasizes her high, sculpted cheekbones. She has a small nose, full lips and an elegant, slim neck.
She must feel my stare, because she guns the engine, tossing an annoyed glance my way. “What?” she grumbles.
“Are these really necessary?” I lift my cuffed hands.
“Yes.” She tilts that stubborn chin up a notch.
“Agree to disagree,” I counter. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere.”
“So… how long til we get to nowhere?”
She glances down at the gold watch on her wrist. “Six and a half minutes.”
I chuckle. “Very precise.”
“Feel free to stop talking.” She sends me an overly-bright smile and bats her lashes.
A laugh rumbles deep in my chest. She’s a breath of fresh air and, I have to say, I rather enjoy being kidnapped by her. As long as she doesn’t stun me in my junk, I have a feeling this could be fun.
I try to get her to answer a few more questions, infusing every ounce of charm I possess, but give up when it becomes clear she isn’t talking.
Not yet, anyway. I’m not even slightly surprised when exactly six and a half minutes later, she hits a remote and a gate rolls up to an underground parking garage.
The woman is precise. She parks the Vanquish then turns to me.
“Are you going to cause me any grief, or are you going to cooperate?”
“Well, that all depends.” My gaze drops to the stun gun she’s clutching like a lifeline.
“On what?” She arches a slim black brow.
“Are you going to put that away?”
“Ha! No. I don’t trust you.”
“I don’t trust you, either. But the moment you use that on me, I’ll stop playing along with whatever game this is.” My tone is anything but friendly and is meant to intimidate. Not that I’d hurt her, but I would leave. Walk away from whatever plan she’s concocting.
Her chest rises with a swift intake of breath. The sweatshirt doesn’t allow me to see much when it comes to her assets, but I’m sure they’re just as tantalizing as the rest of her.
My voice turns casual again as I add, “You might think you’re in control right now, but I assure you, I can leave at any time.”
Her pink lips part then close as she reconsiders her response. Finally, she rolls her eyes and mutters, “So arrogant.”
I smirk. “Is it arrogance if it’s true?”
She scoffs at that but loosens her grip on the stun gun. “If you come up with me, I’ll explain everything.”
“I’m counting on it.”
I wait for her to walk around and open my door. She pulls the gym bag off my lap and, after I get out, she places it back on the seat and locks up.
“This way.”
I follow her to a set of stairs, and we walk up three flights then step into a grungy-looking hall.
The carpet, gaudy and stained, looks straight out of The Shining, and the paint on the walls is peeling.
We’re not in the greatest part of town, so I’m not surprised to see how rundown the building looks.
But there’s no way she lives here. I’d bet my last dollar it’s her safehouse.
She’s far too classy for a dump like this.
We walk to the last door at the end of the hallway and she unlocks it.
“After you,” she invites with a sweep of her hand.
“Ladies first,” I insist, not ready to take my eyes off her. And my reasoning has nothing to do with her exquisite looks and everything to do with not trusting her.
She huffs out a frustrated breath and storms inside.
I follow, shutting the flimsy door behind me, then take a good look at the small apartment.
There’s a worn-looking couch and a small table with its plastic top peeling up at the edges.
It’s dark and dusty, but Bella doesn’t open the blinds.
She just flips on the dim overhead light.
“I’m sure this isn’t up to your usual lofty standards, but it was the most convenient safehouse.”
Okay, so I’m right. But what does she mean by it not being up to my lofty standards? Does she think I’m some kind of snob? The even bigger question is why do I care what the hell she thinks?
“Do you plan on telling me what the hell is going on?” I lock eyes with her, then can’t help but tease her a little. “Or maybe you stole me away for other reasons?” I grin and lift my bound hands. “Are you planning on doing kinky things to me, Miss Diamond?”
“Do you have any idea how annoying you are?” she fires back without missing a beat.
“Me?” I ask, pretending to be shocked. “Babe, I’m an absolute joy. Like a whole litter of fluffy little puppies.”
A delicate snort escapes her. “Sit,” she commands. “And don’t soil the furniture.”
Damn, she’s a fucking hoot.
My grin disappears when I glance down at the faded and stained floral couch.
Suppressing a grimace as I sink onto the old, lumpy cushion, I try not to imagine where it’s been and the questionable things that have been done on it.
Because I am not a snob like she inferred.
Sure, my ass might be used to lounging on a high-end, luxury sofa, but I can slum it.
She sits down beside me, not making a move to remove the cuffs, and asks, “Are you familiar with the Phantom Orchid?”
“Which one?” I scoff, knowing there are multiple fakes out there.
“The real one.”
“It was lost a long time ago. No one’s seen it since…” Hell, I’m not sure when exactly, but Bella knows right away and finishes my sentence.
“Since 1938.” She shifts, or maybe that’s a cheap spring breaking beneath her. Possibly even poking her in her lovely ass.
Oh, to be that spring.
“Okaaay. What does some long-lost, mythical purple diamond have to do with me?”
“It’s not a myth. And you’re going to help me find it.”
“Why would I do that?” I drawl, my tone laced in bored amusement.
“Because you don’t have a choice.”
“You’re not exactly winning me over.”
She sighs. “It’s a two-person job. Trust me, if I could do this alone, I would.”
“Fair. But, why me? I’m sure you could call up any number of willing accomplices.”
A strange look crosses her face then disappears just as quickly. “You have the technical skillset and expertise needed to disarm alarms and bypass security cams, right?”
I shrug a shoulder, playing it cool. But, yeah, I have all those skills and then some. If I really wanted to break in somewhere, not even Fort Knox could keep me out.
“I’m also going to need the gem’s authenticity verified. Like you said, there are quite a few fakes floating around.”
Ah-ha. So she does actually need me. There are any number of thieves she could persuade to help her. The payoff for a find of that magnitude would be pretty substantial. But only if she could prove its authenticity. And not many out there would have that expertise. Not like mine.
I start wondering how difficult I should make all this. The truth is, I’ll help her, because I’m more than a little intrigued and this is the most excitement I’ve had in my life in a while. But I’m not letting her know that quite yet. Gotta keep her on her pretty, little toes.
“Why do you always disguise yourself?” I ask, completely out of the blue. My question catches her off guard because she gapes at me a few seconds too long
“I’m not sure what that has to do with finding the Phantom Orchid.”
“Nothing. But if I’m going to help you, then I want some questions answered.” Her gray eyes narrow. I’d be willing to bet a diamond mine that’s not her real color. Or her real accent. “Is that your real accent?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to—”
“I want to know who I’m working with,” I interrupt. “Trust is key when it comes to a partnership.”
Her lips part ever so slightly, and my attention shifts down. Damn, I want to kiss her. It’s illogical and inconvenient. But suddenly, I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. To claim her mouth with mine. Taste her, lick her.
She clears her throat and my gaze lifts, locking onto hers again.
“Only fools trust,” she whispers.
For some reason, hearing her say that makes me sad. Her words ring with the truth of someone who’s been screwed over. Or maybe she’s always had trust issues. Whatever the case may be, I like knowing I could be the first partner she’s had who doesn’t do her dirty. Who stays true to her.
“Maybe I’m a fool then. But if this is going to work” —I wave a finger from me to her, and the cuffs jingle— “you need to uncuff me and tell me everything you know about the Phantom Orchid.”
She takes a very long, drawn-out moment, considering my words.
The silence stretches between us, and I think she might tell me to go screw.
But then she makes a very displeased face before reaching down and plucking a small key from her boot.
“It’s always in the boot,” she grumbles, then sticks the key into the lock and twists.
The cuffs pop open, and I shake them off and rub my wrists. “Thank you,” I murmur. Instead of asking any more personal questions, which she’ll probably ignore or deflect, I get right to business. “I’m going to need my equipment—a laptop and some tools. I’d also like to talk to Addie—”
“No!”
“Bella—” I barely get her name out before she cuts me off.
“I said no. Just you. I don’t want your whole team involved in this.”
“It would be easier—”
“I don’t care.”
That stubborn look on her face tells me she isn’t going to budge on the matter. Since she’s clearly made up her mind already, I decide not to press the issue. For now, anyway.
This is going to be an interesting partnership, I think dryly.
“Fine,” I relent. “But I need full disclosure—”
This time it isn’t Bella who cuts me off. It’s the sound of the window breaking.
My head jerks sideways to see the bent blinds still swinging. They managed to contain a lot of the broken glass, but shards still scatter across the dirty floor. I have no idea what’s happening, but my protective instincts take over, and I throw myself over Bella, covering her with my body.
“Stay down,” I hiss.
As a thanks for my protection, she elbows me in the side—the same spot Linc hit me earlier—and I grunt.
“Get off me,” she grits out.
Shifting sideways so I’m not crushing her, I peer over the top of the couch just in time to see a canister slip through the blinds, roll across the floor and emit a fine smoke.
“Tear gas! Go, go, go!”
She doesn’t need any encouragement, rolling off the couch and yelling, “This way!” as she runs away from the chemical vapor rapidly invading the room.
Staying low, I hurry behind her. She stops in front of a closed door I’m expecting to lead to a bedroom or a second exit. But when she opens it, I’m staring into a dead end with several empty hangers and a folded stepstool.
“Uh, Bella, this is a closet.”
She gives me a shove, and I step inside. After squeezing in next to me, she quickly closes the door, effectively cutting off the tear gas. It’s dark and cramped, and the musty smell is soon overtaken by the scent of jasmine.
“No,” she hisses, “this is my escape route.”
I can’t see much, but I can hear her unfolding the stepstool. A small flashlight snaps on, illuminating the gloom, and she shoves it at me. “Hold this.” As she climbs up onto the top step, I shine the light on the small trap door in the ceiling.
She pushes it open, and a smile tilts my lips. “Bella Diamond, you’re my hero,” I whisper.
“Shut up, McKay, and give me a boost,” she orders, but I can hear the smile in her voice.
Damn, this woman is magnificent.