Stolen Love (Beauty in the Stolen 3)

The light in those pretty blue eyes soften. “Let’s go on a trip.”

I rub a thumb over her nape, enjoying the feel of her soft skin. “A trip?”

She shivers. “Yeah, like going on holiday.” She adds with enthusiasm, “To the Maldives or Tahiti.”

I can’t help but smile. “You want to go to the Maldives?”

She wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m perfectly happy here, but I’m happy to go wherever you want.”

I draw her closer still, letting her feel how hard she makes me. “I was thinking more along the lines of Europe.”

She frowns. “Europe?”

“You still have those diamonds to sell. We can find a buyer in Paris and see the Eiffel Tower. Kill two birds with one stone.”

“You want to steal something,” she deadpans.

“Yes,” I admit, “and I think you’re ready.”

Fireworks go off in her eyes. “What are we stealing?”

“An ostrich.”

She drops her arms and takes a step back, staring at me like I’ve gone mad. “An ostrich?”

“Not just any old ostrich. The Sheik of Omar’s ostrich.”

She gapes. “What is the Sheik of Omar doing with an ostrich?”

“He runs races. The bets on those races amount to millions. He calls it his golden ostrich. The bird has never lost a race.”

“He’ll lose shitloads of money if we steal his golden ostrich, but what do we get out of it?” She adds, “Except for the ostrich?”

“An ostrich population for the farm.”

She narrows her eyes. “You need a female for that.”

“I can get one from Oudtshoorn.”

Propping her hands on her hips, she gives me a stern look. “You can get a male from Oudtshoorn too. Do you have a vendetta against the sheik?”

“No.”

“Then what’s really in it for us?”

I grin. “A challenge.” When her brow doesn’t smooth out, I continue. “The race is taking place in Paris. The sheik will fly his bird out in a private plane. We can easily snatch it at the airport.”

Laughing, she says, “I can’t believe you’re trying to talk me into stealing a bird.”

I arch a brow. “The bird will be much happier here. He’d never have to race again. Unless he wanted to, of course.”

“Or unless a lion chases him.”

Wrapping my fingers around her wrist, I pull her back to me. “That’s nature. You can’t change it. Besides, ostriches make excellent guard dogs.”

“So do crocodiles.”

“Crocodiles don’t wander all the way to the gates.”

“Ian Hart, what am I going to do with you?”

“Come on this mission with me. If it works, we go for something bigger.”

“Something bigger, huh?”

“The Louvre maybe.”

She slaps my arm. “Shame on you. That’s why you want to drag me to Paris. It’s not about the ostrich. It’s about sussing out the Louvre.”

“Reconnaissance,” I say in an appeasing tone. “An important part of any mission.”

She’s smiling from ear to ear. “Okay. You win. I’m in.”

I drop my hand to her hip. “You are?”

“Yes,” she says, laughing as I dip her low, but she quickly stops laughing when I chase after her lips.

I steal a kiss, giving her a preview of what I have in mind. “I’m in for the long haul, baby doll. You better believe that.”

“I do.” She splays her hand. The diamond on her finger catches the rays of the setting sun. “I have the ring to prove it.”

Hooking her thigh around my ass, I hold her steady with an arm around her waist. “I can think of another way of proving it.”

“Then do,” she says, daring me.

We go down to the ground. I don’t care about the soil or dirt. I don’t care about anything as long as I get to do it with her.

“You know what?” I ask as I go for my zipper.

“Tell me,” she says, catching my face between her palms.

I do. I kiss that sweet spot behind her ear and tell her again. “You’re mine.”

~ THE END ~