had happened. For a split second, it was obvious that she wanted to be kissed as much as he wanted to kiss, and it had shifted something inside him, had made him a little weary for the experience to occur again. At the same time, he could think of nothing but her warm, supple body pressed up against him, his lips on hers, and the warmth of her mouth ready for the plunder.
He really didn’t want to go there, his main objective still the need to escape from the Scotland Yard detective’s clutches. Though on second thoughts, perhaps he wanted to be in her clutches as much as she apparently yearned to be in his?
Such a strange thing. Jewel thief makes love to a cop. That would surely be the headline if some hack journalist were present to report on the strange occurrence. But however odd the circumstances, he felt a strong urge to repeat the experience—and could think of nothing else as she finally escorted him into his room, then slammed the door shut behind him and turned the key in the lock, effectively rendering him a prisoner in her home.
He studied his new surroundings and was happy that at least no chains, shackles or rats were present. The room was quite nice, in fact, the wallpaper of a faint flowery satiny kind, the furniture a classic white, and the bed… He tested the mattress and found it to his satisfaction. At least he would be able to rest comfortably here.
Then, as he stretched his weary limbs on the bed, his mind returned to Glynis Fox, and he suddenly wished she were here, stretched out beside him, naked and longing for a continuation of their tangle on the top of the stairs.
It had been merely an appetizer, he decided, suddenly adamant it wouldn’t be the last kiss they shared. Perhaps, he thought, if he did as she asked, and retrieved those infernal pearls of hers, she would be more susceptible to his not inconsiderable charm.
To pursue the Scotland Yard agent would mean war, but he didn’t mind. He liked a bit of a tussle with a member of the opposite sex. All clean, healthy fun.
With a quick change of heart he decided he would cooperate. Where before he’d been keen on escaping the beautiful Glynis Fox’s clutches, he would stick around to see what could be accomplished in the way of romantic interludes with the delectable baronet’s daughter.
He already knew that those blue eyes could flash with anger and indignation, but could they also flash with passion?
He was surprised when the door suddenly swung open, and the lady in question appeared before him, directing that nasty stare at him once again.
“Could you please leave me in peace, darling,” he murmured. “And close the door. I would be alone.”
In three steps, she’d crossed to the bed and was upon him. Grabbing him by the arm she’d pulled him to his feet with surprising strength, and was propelling him out the door and into the hallway.
“Christ, not again,” he lamented, getting sick and tired of being shoved this way and that by this infernal female. “Can’t you leave well enough alone?”
She’d taken him by the hand and was directing him to yet another door, then opened it quietly and stepped inside, forcing him to follow along.
“What now?” he grunted, rolling his eyes. “Have you changed your mind? Are you going to pistol-whip me into acquiescence this time? A bit of torture?”
In a flash, she turned on him, eyes shooting fire, and pressed her finger to his lips. “Shut up!” she hissed, then stepped deeper into the room.
Following her, he couldn't deny experiencing a twinge of intrigue at the decor. This room looked more like a hospital room than a bedroom. When he saw the small figure of an elderly woman buried in white bedding, attached to a machine with tubes and plastic wires, he quickly sobered.
This, he assumed, was the real lady of the house. Lady Fox. The woman whom he’d relieved of her precious pearls. As he reluctantly approached the bed, dragged into the room by an insistent Glynis,
He really didn’t want to go there, his main objective still the need to escape from the Scotland Yard detective’s clutches. Though on second thoughts, perhaps he wanted to be in her clutches as much as she apparently yearned to be in his?
Such a strange thing. Jewel thief makes love to a cop. That would surely be the headline if some hack journalist were present to report on the strange occurrence. But however odd the circumstances, he felt a strong urge to repeat the experience—and could think of nothing else as she finally escorted him into his room, then slammed the door shut behind him and turned the key in the lock, effectively rendering him a prisoner in her home.
He studied his new surroundings and was happy that at least no chains, shackles or rats were present. The room was quite nice, in fact, the wallpaper of a faint flowery satiny kind, the furniture a classic white, and the bed… He tested the mattress and found it to his satisfaction. At least he would be able to rest comfortably here.
Then, as he stretched his weary limbs on the bed, his mind returned to Glynis Fox, and he suddenly wished she were here, stretched out beside him, naked and longing for a continuation of their tangle on the top of the stairs.
It had been merely an appetizer, he decided, suddenly adamant it wouldn’t be the last kiss they shared. Perhaps, he thought, if he did as she asked, and retrieved those infernal pearls of hers, she would be more susceptible to his not inconsiderable charm.
To pursue the Scotland Yard agent would mean war, but he didn’t mind. He liked a bit of a tussle with a member of the opposite sex. All clean, healthy fun.
With a quick change of heart he decided he would cooperate. Where before he’d been keen on escaping the beautiful Glynis Fox’s clutches, he would stick around to see what could be accomplished in the way of romantic interludes with the delectable baronet’s daughter.
He already knew that those blue eyes could flash with anger and indignation, but could they also flash with passion?
He was surprised when the door suddenly swung open, and the lady in question appeared before him, directing that nasty stare at him once again.
“Could you please leave me in peace, darling,” he murmured. “And close the door. I would be alone.”
In three steps, she’d crossed to the bed and was upon him. Grabbing him by the arm she’d pulled him to his feet with surprising strength, and was propelling him out the door and into the hallway.
“Christ, not again,” he lamented, getting sick and tired of being shoved this way and that by this infernal female. “Can’t you leave well enough alone?”
She’d taken him by the hand and was directing him to yet another door, then opened it quietly and stepped inside, forcing him to follow along.
“What now?” he grunted, rolling his eyes. “Have you changed your mind? Are you going to pistol-whip me into acquiescence this time? A bit of torture?”
In a flash, she turned on him, eyes shooting fire, and pressed her finger to his lips. “Shut up!” she hissed, then stepped deeper into the room.
Following her, he couldn't deny experiencing a twinge of intrigue at the decor. This room looked more like a hospital room than a bedroom. When he saw the small figure of an elderly woman buried in white bedding, attached to a machine with tubes and plastic wires, he quickly sobered.
This, he assumed, was the real lady of the house. Lady Fox. The woman whom he’d relieved of her precious pearls. As he reluctantly approached the bed, dragged into the room by an insistent Glynis,
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