The Sheikh's Crown (Sheikh's Wedding Bet Series Book 2) by Leslie North Page A

warehouses in Venice are large enough to house the collection, but the moving company has an intimate relationship with only one of them. I’m fairly certain we’ll find your things there.”
    “Give me the address.”
    “I don’t think so,” she said with a smile. “I’m not that dumb. You’re going to dump me here and retrieve the collection yourself. We’re going together.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I could have left you here, taken what I wanted, and left you high and dry. I’m trying to help you, Adil. Show me the same courtesy.”
    With a sigh of frustration, he gestured to his men. “Fine. But when this is all over with, I do not ever want to see you again.”
    “Fair enough,” she said sadly. Getaway. Not clean, but a getaway nonetheless.
    The warehouse wasn’t far from the airport but the ride was tense, and it was only slightly relieved by the seeming lack of security. Leaving the guards out front and after some discussion with the warehouse manager who wanted nothing more than to avoid having law enforcement on the premises, they were granted access to the crates, which were neatly stacked and awaiting pick up.
    With a smile on her face, Samine grabbed two crowbars and handed one to Adil.
    “Shall we?” she asked excitedly. With a grunt, he nodded and they started at different ends and began prying the crates open. Samine felt as though she were on a treasure hunt as they opened crate after crate; sifting through the packing material to find all the missing collection items. Well, almost all of them.
    Three pieces were missing.
    Samine held her breath as the last crate was about to be opened when a sudden shout got their attention. Bruce Summers stood in the doorway with his mouth open. “You stole the collection!”
    She froze. How the hell did he figure it out?
    “Bruce,” Adil growled.
    “This is your family’s collection. It’s not yours. You have wealth at your disposal. What could you possibly gain from taking it?”
    This time, her jaw dropped. Bruce thought that Adil stole it?
    Adil narrowed his eyes. “How did you know that we were here? I didn’t tell you where we were going. I didn’t even know.”
    “I knew I couldn’t trust you. I’d already been to Paris before I called you. Imagine my surprise when I found the crates were empty. Since your plane filed a flight manifest, it was easy to track you to Venice. Adil, what on earth were you thinking? Jaymin wouldn’t have cut you off.”
    “Bruce, I tracked them down. I used my contacts as a reporter. Adil didn’t do this,” Samine said as she stepped forward. She didn’t have time for the two men to argue; whatever their problem was, they needed to settle it, and quickly.
    “A reporter? Really?” Bruce’s derisive tone had her swallowing hard, as he turned to Adil. “Did you ever stop to run her credentials, Adil, or were you more interested in bedding her? Because once I realized that something was up, I did, and no one has heard of her. She’s lied about everything. Were you two working together? Is that it? Police! Police! I have them!” Bruce began shouting as he ran out front when he heard the sirens.
    “Shit,” Samine blurted out, as she looked out the window. “Adil, we’re about to be arrested.”
    “I didn’t take it. They can’t arrest me. The collection belongs to me.”
    Samine shook her head. “It doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to your father, and the police aren’t here alone. Interpol is with them. We can get arrested and hope that we sort things out, or we can leave and figure out who really stole it.”
    He gave her an astounded look. “Obviously, Bruce stole them.”
    “If Bruce wanted to steal it, he would have done so before it even shipped. He wouldn’t have tipped us off.” She looked around wildly. “Your men. Are they yours or your father’s?”
    “My father’s,” he said slowly.
    “Fuck. Adil, we need to get out of here, now. If we are arrested, we’ll never know who