Page 13 of Mine to Hold

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“Friends like James?” I pushed.

He was the one who had clued me in to her identity. The one shot of her face had turned up nothing and lord believe me, I’d tried. I’d run it through every agency that I could, from the United States facial recognition program, to Interpol, and even wider still. It was as though she didn’t exist anywhere. She hadn’t left any fingerprints behind, but even if she had, that wouldn’t have come up with anything either.

Her one mistake had been selling a necklace off to a friend of mine, James Monroe. He’d recognized the piece and bought it off her anyway. He’d called me the next day and informed me of the little thief’s whereabouts.

I’d sent my men for her immediately. It was my responsibility to see that the funds were replaced and to deal with anyone that might think they could take advantage of the family. I had to secure our position and I took that obligation very seriously.

In order to do that, Mila was going to have to answer my questions, but I wasn’t going to rush this. I was going to savor every delicious moment of what she had coming.

Her face had paled at the mention of my friend’s name. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the necklace. She gasped slightly at the sight of it. Her cheeks reddened. She knew she was well and truly caught. There had been tendrils of hope before. Those were all gone now.

“Yes,” she replied softly. Her voice quivered just the slightest bit.

“James told me a lot about you, that he’s secured you for his means a few times over the years. He says you’re the best in the business. Always get in and out of a mark without a trace. I should count myself lucky that you graced my cameras with a partial view of that pretty face,” I continued.

Her blush deepened. “May I please get dressed?” she tried.

I shook my head. “No. I like you better naked. Maybe it will remind you to be honest with me,” I replied. Her lips tightened with annoyance, but she knew better than to say anything. Instead, she rolled her shoulders backwards and stood a bit taller.

The little thing was brave, I’d give her that. She was about a foot shorter than me, maybe a hundred-and-thirty pounds soaking wet.

“Tell me about the contract James gave you,” I pushed.

With an inquisitive gaze, she studied me. She was trying to assess just how much danger she was in. I stayed calm, showing nothing. The longer she tested my patience though, the more I wanted to take off my belt and redden her ass.

In time, I told myself.

I would get the information I needed and then I would punish her for my men to see. I wasn’t about to let her know about my intentions yet though. I would wait until the right time.

Things like this couldn’t be rushed. They had to be dealt with in a manner that was properly thought through.

I had always been known for my patience.

“My name is known in certain circles. It’s passed by word of mouth and occasionally referred to online,” she began.

“What do they call you?” I asked. I knew the answer already, but I wanted to see if she would tell me herself.

“Kitty,” she whispered. Her admission made her cheeks even pinker.

“What was the first thing that James contracted you for?”

Her thighs slid against one another as she chewed her lower lip. The entire display was that of a naughty little girl that needed to be punished hard. My cock jerked at the thought.

“Down below the Natural History Museum is a series of vaults housing artifacts and items not on display for the public to see. Inside one of them was a tiara. I don’t remember much of the history, but it belonged to a Spanish queen from long ago. It was a difficult job that required a lot of planning, but I was successful in the end,” she explained. There was a certain pride that bled through in her words, and I found that I quite enjoyed it.

I decided to foster it a bit more. “James tells me you’re the best in the business,” I repeated.

“Yes. I have a perfect track record,” she answered, and I liked the way her face lit up when she smiled. She was really quite beautiful.

A part of me wanted to keep her for myself. She was playing a dangerous game and it was only a matter of time before she pissed off the wrong people and ended up dead.

“How do you acquire contracts?” I asked.

“Sometimes, my handler Ricky fields them. On most occasions these days though, they approach me directly though secure channels,” she replied.

“Who is Ricky?”

“He’s a friend. We grew up together,” she mumbled.


Tags: Sara Fields Romance