Lap of Luxury (Love Don't Cost a Thing)

“It means he’s met his match.” Damir’s mouth descends on mine, engulfing me in a searing kiss.

Chapter Twenty

Damir

I kiss Bethany like a starving man. Is this what’s meant by falling in love? True love that people say has the power to redeem. It’s not redemption that is surging through my body as my tongue plunges into her mouth. It’s not redemption that I want, either. It’s something far sweeter.

Bethany accepts my kiss, opening for me, her lips moving against mine in a breathless kiss. She more than accepts me. She drinks in my soul like she’s drowning and it’s the oxygen that will save her.

I’m unstoppable.

“You were perfect, my beautiful girl,” I say aga

inst her lips, ignoring the pain in my own. The taste of blood spices our reunion, and desire races through me. The jewels are around her neck, her wrists, sitting atop her hair. I’ve taken these stones and gold, and I’ve taken Bethany’s ruby red heart along with them.

A voice speaks over my shoulder. Boris has returned with the others. “We couldn’t find Navarro. We could go on searching, but it might be wiser if we got out of here.”

I pull back from Bethany’s lips and gaze into her eyes as I answer. “He doesn’t matter any longer. Let him flee and die in a ditch from his wounds somewhere.”

I have other pressing matters to see to. Namely Bethany. My hands curl around her wrists and close like manacles. I have unfinished business with my little princesa. I haven’t forgotten that she betrayed me tonight.

I help Bethany out of the jewelry and put the pieces into black velvet boxes that are scattered on a nearby table. Then we get the hell out of the villa. Boris is the least blooded of us, and he heads down through town. The four of us wait in the shadows by a deserted stone jetty below the villa, and then clamber into the speedboat when Boris brings it around.

“Bye-bye, Monte Carlo,” I say, as the lights recede across the waves. Bethany turns and looks back with me, the wind whipping over her face. I watch her in the moonlight, her chin held high, her eyes clear. She could have gone to pieces tonight. She looked death in the face, dripping in jewels like the princess she is. A little shock now and then, that will just keep her on her toes.

Once we’re back on board, I keep hold of Bethany’s hand and the bag of jewel boxes, and give my orders to the men, telling Boris to steer us southeast, away from Monte Carlo, and the men to keep watch. Then the engines come to life a few minutes later, and the bright lights of the city begin to recede.

Beside me, Bethany is pale and silent. I tuck her hair behind her ear and plant a kiss on her forehead. “You look worn out, my love. You’ve had quite the night of it.”

She nods, and I lead her to the bedroom. I put the jewels in the bedroom safe, take something out, and then lock it up. Behind me, I can hear her undressing.

“I can’t believe you let me think you were going to let them murder me,” she mutters. “Can we agree that I’ve had enough near-death experiences for a lifetime now?”

My shoulders are tight, hands curled into fists and my right hand is wrapped around the little object I’m holding.

“Damir? What’s wrong?”

“You tried to escape me.”

I turn around, and her mouth drops open. “What? You mean, with Boris?” She watches me uncertainly. “Of course I did. It was what you wanted.”

“You didn’t know that. You know I can’t handle betrayal, Bethany.” I step slowly toward her, and she moves away, panic flitting through her eyes.

“He coerced me. He was an agent provocateur. That’s not allowed in court or by the police or whatever. You can’t blame someone when they’ve been provoked, and you’ve done nothing but provoke me.”

Her pleas and excuses fall on deaf ears. “Things are very simple for me. You commit a crime, you have to be punished. Sometimes it’s with your life, like Georgios. Sometimes it’s with your possessions, like Navarro. And sometimes it’s with your body. Like you, Bethany.”

“That’s not fair, you asshole,” she whispers fiercely, tears springing into her eyes. “You’ve locked me up and used me for your own ends. What else was I supposed to do but clutch at whatever chance at freedom came my way?”

“Fair?” I say, stroking the word like a cat. “Whatever gave you the impression that any of this was fair?” I hold up the object in my hand and show it to her. It’s a little dark glass bottle.

Her fearful eyes flicker to it and back again. “What’s that?”

“Amyl nitrate.”

“Is it going to make me pass out?”

I laugh softly and shake my head. “Not at all. What would be the fun in punishing you if you’re unconscious?”