Treasured Page 4

  8

  Milly

  I'm starting to understand the phrase ‘bursting with excitement.’ Oh, and that one about being ‘over the moon’ about something makes more sense too. Who knew almost being kidnapped would be the greatest thing to ever happen to me? Especially because I got to wake up this morning in bed with Mateo.

  “You okay, dear?” Mrs. Verne asks as she cuts off a tag to one of the pretty dresses she had delivered for me. There have been a ton of boxes dropped off for our trip. I thought Mateo said we were only going for a couple of days, but from all the packages you’d think we’re going to be gone a lot longer than that. Not that I’m complaining. I’ll be more than happy to stay in freaking Paris longer. I’d have to be crazy to not want to. I never get to go on trips. I never really got to go anywhere before I went off to college.

  “I’m okay.” I drop my hands from my cheeks, not having realized I’d placed them there while thinking about Mateo and me waking up in bed together. Our bodies had been pressed against each other. He’d been hard, and I don’t mean just his body. Well, his cock is part of his body, but still. He was turned on. It’s the first time I’ve been that close to a man. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything you’d like, dear.” I smile, enjoying when Mrs. Verne calls me that. I’ve never had a nickname or had someone call me by a term of endearment. I’m having a lot of firsts here.

  “You know men.”

  “I’ve known quite a few in my life.” She winks at me, making me laugh. I’m trying to figure out how to ask the question. Normally I’d Google it, but I don’t have my phone. Mateo took the one back from me he’d let me use. “Go on, don’t get all shy on me now.” She encourages me.

  “In the morning, don’t they wake up…” I trail off, still not sure how to put it, so I extend my index finger.

  “With an erection? Yeah, it’s natural.”

  “Oh. Right.” I turn, fiddling with one of the packages to hide my disappointment. I’d been hoping that I'd done that to Mateo. That he’d been thinking of me and that’s why he was hard this morning. Damn it. I’d thought I’d seen him staring at my mouth too. I’m a dork.

  “That's all?” she asks.

  “How’s it going?” Mateo enters the bedroom with a black bag in his hand.

  I’m curious what kind of work he does, but I learned a long time ago that’s not something you ever ask about. I know Mateo is my hero, but I think he might not always be the good guy in the real world. My first clue was all the cell phones and the second was because of how vague he was about our upcoming trip. And let’s not forget, he frickin’ shot my kidnappers and didn’t seem to bat an eyelash.

  Who am I to judge him at this point, though? I’m sure whatever he does for a living doesn’t hold a candle to what my father has done in his lifetime. I may have been taught not to ask about the family business, but that doesn’t mean I’m ignorant to what goes on. It was why I pushed so hard to not only go to college and live away from the house but to not have a bodyguard or use my family’s last name.

  Most of my father’s men give me the creeps. They also mutter a lot of things about me under their breath when they get annoyed, which is often, because they don’t enjoy it when they get the job of babysitting me.

  For some reason, I can’t help but believe Mateo is different, even if he is into some not-so-legal things. He doesn't give me the creeps–far from it–and he’s a sweetheart to me. He can’t be that bad.

  “I think she’s good to go.” Mrs. Verne zips my suitcase up.

  “Is it time?” I make myself stay where I’m standing. The urge to go to Mateo and touch him is overwhelming me, but I keep it together.

  “Yeah.” Mateo runs his hand through his short dark hair.

  “She can stay with me if you want,” Mrs. Verne offers.

  “No,” Mateo says before my heart can even drop in disappointment. Why would Mrs. Verne do me like that?

  He walks over and grabs my bag. “I’ll put this in the car, then we’ll head out.” He leaves the bedroom again.

  “See? He wants you to go with him. Stop getting into your own head.”

  “You were testing him? That’s why you offered that?”

  Mrs. Verne shrugs. “I wanted you to see it for yourself. Now go have some fun and make sure Mateo does too. He needs some in his life.”

  “On it!” I hug her, which I think surprises her, before I rush after Mateo. He’s coming back in from the garage, and I almost collide with him in my excitement.

  “Careful.” His hands grip my shoulders before I can bounce off his giant body and land on my booty.

  “Are you coming back to carry me to the car?” I joke.

  “If need be.” I rest my hands against his chest and stare up at him. I think I could stare at his handsome face all day.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out.

  “I think I’m past the age of girlfriends.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “There are no girls in my life. If I did have one, I wouldn't be letting another woman sleep in my bed or go on a trip with me.”

  “Good.” I smile up at him. See? I knew he was a good one. “My brother and father do that crap. I don’t like it.” I can’t help but press myself more into him. I love the feeling of him against me.

  “Not that kind of man.”

  I know I probably shouldn’t, because they say men will say anything to get into your pants, but I believe Mateo. Besides, he’s more than welcome to get into them anytime he likes. Unless he’s not into me.

  “Mateo,” I breathe when I feel something very familiar and very hard press against me.

  “Let’s go.” He steps back, taking that familiar feeling with him.

  He’s turned on. That makes two of us.

  9

  Mateo

  She stares out the window, taking in the endless ocean as we cruise across the Atlantic.

  “You don’t fly much?” I ask.

  “No. I don’t get to go on trips. Not like Henry. He’s always jetting off to some island or skiing in the Alps.” She shrugs. “I’m sort of an afterthought, I guess. But I don’t want to go with him anyway. He’s always partying and hanging around with people I don’t understand.”

  “How so?”

  She finally tears her gaze from the window and looks at me. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess it’s that I can’t tell if they’re being serious? It’s hard to explain. Sometimes I think maybe I speak a different language, or maybe I’m just slow.”

  “You’re not slow.” I reach across and take her hand.

  Her eyes widen.

  “Don’t say things like that about yourself, okay? It’s not true. Not even a little.”

  Scarab jumps into the seat beside her and curls up.

  “You don’t know me that well. I could be a huge dumdum.” She laughs.

  “Well, let’s examine that. What are you going to school for?”

  Her cheeks turn a darling shade of pink. “I’m studying engineering and design. I haven’t decided which subspecialty yet, but I really like my classes on ergonomic design. Did you know engineers can use math and science to design spaces and hardware for people to live more comfortably and also for people with disabilities? Just imagine all the ways I could help. I’m actually working on using a 3D printer to create a prosthetic for a local shelter cat who’s missing her back right paw. If I can model it correctly and finish the mechanics of the ankle bones via a system of ball bearings and–” She stops, then looks down. “Sorry, I know I ramble about–”

  “Don’t you dare apologize.” I squeeze her small hand in mine.

  She smiles, her warmth like a ray of sun.

  “When you said you don’t understand your brother’s friends–vapid party kids–I think it’s likely more accurate that they don’t understand you. And maybe that’s a good thing.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” I can’t even begin to fathom how I managed to luck out on finding Milly, but the more I get to know her, the more I realize she’s like a hidden gem. A priceless bit of artistry that no one’s truly noticed, but I can see her just fine.

  “Wow.” She reaches out with her free hand and pets Scarab. “I mean, we just met, but I feel like you sort of … know me?”

  “I want to.” It’s no exaggeration to say I’ve never wanted to know much about anyone else. After all, I steal for a living. That’s a solitary lifestyle. I have a mountain of secrets inside me, ones that will never see the light of day. I suppose that’s why I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length. Mrs. Verne got close out of sheer force of will, but she’s a different breed. Just like Milly.

  “What about you? Did you go to college?” she asks.

  “No.”

  “Did you want to?”

  I shrug. “Not really. I had good parents, normal home life, and all that for the most part, but I always wanted more. And not more in the sense of getting a big job or going to a great school. I wanted to carve my own path. So I did.”

  She shifts in her seat. “Um, so what do you do for a living? I don’t think rescuing women from kidnapping attempts is a sustainable profession.”

  That makes me smile. “You’re the only one. Don’t worry, I’m not making a living as anyone’s hero.”

  “You’re mine.” She clears her throat. “My hero, I mean.”

  Why does that strike a chord inside me? Those words from her lips are like a shot of adrenaline or a snort of coke. Powerful and invigorating. “I’ve never been anyone’s hero.”

  “It suits you.” She leans forward. “The way you came to my rescue, the way you’ve been taking care of me ever since–you’re definitely hero material.”

  I lean forward, too, and I can’t help b
ut glance at her pink lips. “How do you know? Have you met many heroes?”

  “No.” She scrunches her nose. “I’ve met plenty of villains, though.”

  I don’t care for the sound of that. “Like who?”

  “Like my father.” She drops her gaze. “Like everyone who works for him or with him.”

  “Hey.” I tilt her chin up until she’s looking at me again. “I’ll keep you safe. Even if I have to keep you safe from him. All right?”

  “All right.” God, the trust she puts in me. I don’t deserve it, but damn, I still want it. No one’s ever looked at me like this or thought I was anything better than a high-end criminal. But she doesn’t look at me that way. Not at all. To her, I’m a hero. She continues, “Not that he’d hurt me. He wouldn’t. My dad just sort if, I guess, ignores me. He has his own stuff he’s always busy with, and he’s got Henry, who’ll follow in his footsteps. At least, that’s the plan.” She sighs. “I’ll tell you who he is. I know I should. I’m just–I don’t know–I don’t want my family to change what you think of me.”

  “If I tell you what I do for a living, will that change what you think of me?” I move even closer, our knees touching as we soar through the sky toward Paris.

  She thinks for a few seconds. “I guess not. I’m just curious. I want to know about you. Tell me everything.”

  I laugh. “Everything will take a very long time.”

  “How long till Paris?” She smiles.

  “Not long enough.” I’m so close now. And when she tilts her head up just a little, I can’t stop myself. Her lashes drop, and I kiss her, tasting her for the first time.

  I groan and cup the nape of her neck with one hand, tilting her head so I can delve my tongue into her mouth. She makes a little sighing sound, and I devour it, needing more and more as I pull her into my lap.

  She wraps her arms around my neck, her body pressed to mine. I hold her tight, my greedy fingers feeling along her back, her sides, then roving up to her breast. I cup one, squeezing it lightly. She moans into my mouth, and I find her nipple through the shirt, squeezing it between my thumb and forefinger.

  When her hips move against my hard cock, I fight the urge to take her to the floor and pin her there, giving her every inch. Fuck, how can she taste so sweet? Like sugar and vanilla, a hint of something spicy and unique.

  I need her like I’ve never needed anyone in my whole life. My control breaks, and I start to slide off the seat to lay her on the floor when the speakers crackle to life.

  “Preparing for our descent into Paris, Mr. Klein. Please fasten your seatbelts as we have some rough air coming up.”

  Shit.

  10

  Milly

  Mateo points out different things to me as we drive to our hotel. We’d gotten out of the plane and into a fancy limo.

  I know I should be taking it all in, but the only thing I want to look at is him. I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything else since he kissed me. My lips are still tingling from it. So are a few other body parts. I was sure we were about to go further until we were interrupted by the flight attendant informing us we needed to prepare for landing. To say I was disappointed is the understatement of the century.

  “I got us these.” He clears his throat as he pulls out a little box and flips it open. “They’re part of our cover.”

  “Mateo,” I breathe as he takes my hand and slips a ring on my finger. I’ve never been much into jewelry, but the giant pear-shaped diamond is not only breathtaking but different too. I love it. “I’m James now, by the way.”

  I scrunch my nose, not wanting to call him another name.

  He slips a ring onto his own finger next. “And you're Melanie.” Oh, I really don’t like him calling me another woman's name at all.

  “Can’t we do pet names or something?” I suggest instead. “Calling you James feels wrong. It doesn’t fit you. It’s too regular.”

  “You’re right. I don’t think I care much for it, either.”

  “I’ve got it! I’ll call you love muffin.”

  A bark of laughter comes from him. The sound is like warm honey hitting my stomach.

  I giggle a little. “Fine. I’ll call you honey.”

  “All right, and I’ll call you treasure.”

  “I love it.” I want to be his treasure. Something he holds the most near and dear to him. He’d want to keep me locked away all to himself. I’d be precious to him. I’ve never been precious to anyone before.

  I drop my head back, wanting another one of those kisses he gave me earlier. He gives me what I want, pressing his mouth against mine. It’s going to be easy to pretend to be married to Mateo.

  Don’t get me wrong; I don’t have a damn clue what it’s like to be in any sort of relationship or how I’m supposed to act, but this feels right. My fingers dig into his shirt as I try to climb into his lap, wanting to be pressed up against him.

  “Fuck.” Mateo growls against my mouth, pulling back.

  “No.” I protest, lifting up to make our mouths meet again.

  “We’re here, treasure.” As he says the words, the door opens. I huff out an annoyed breath that makes Mateo smile. “Let’s get checked in.”

  “I suppose,” I relent.

  “I’ll get out first. Wait till I offer you my hand.”

  “Okay.”

  “Always wait for me, Milly, and always stay close to me unless I tell you otherwise.”

  “Easy-peasy. You’re not going to get any push back from me. I like being near you.”

  “I like being near you, too.” He presses one more kiss to my mouth before he gets out of the back of the limo. A moment later, he offers me his hand. I take it, using my other to hold Scarab’s carrier.

  Mateo keeps me tucked into his side as we check into the swanky hotel. When he speaks French to the man behind the front desk, I almost die. I didn’t think Mateo could get any hotter, but I was wrong. Hearing him speak another language has taken his hotness to a whole different level.

  When we get to the suite, he asks me to wait in the entryway as he makes his way through the whole thing, checking it over the same as my father’s guards always do. I wait impatiently, my whole body starting to ache. I set Scarab’s carrier down and open the door. He’s been in there quite a while now, and I can tell he’s getting antsy. He bolts out to begin an inspection of his own.

  “What’s wrong?” Mateo rushes back over to me when he’s done with his check. He grips my wrist, pulling my hands from my face.

  “I ache. In like–” I glance down. “Places. Well, one place in particular,” I admit leaning into his big body. I swear I feel as though I’m a freaking cat in heat. I want to rub myself all over him.

  “You want me to take care of it for you?” He leans down, brushing his mouth along my jaw.

  “Please.” I grip his shirt.

  “I’ve got you, my little treasure.” He lifts me into his arms.

  I kiss him everywhere my mouth can reach as he carries me through the suite. My back hits a bed, and he starts pulling at my clothes, though he’s careful when he gets to my knees. I should probably be shier when he steals the last piece of clothing from me, leaving me naked on the bed. He’s still fully dressed, but my body is too needy to care at the moment.

  “You really are a rare treasure.”

  I believe to him I actually am. The way his eyes travel over my body only confirms that more. His breathing is heavy, like he’s fighting to catch air. “And it’s my job to take care of you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I agree. My own breathing begins to get harder. “Isn’t that what husbands do?”

  “Fuck,” he groans, closing his eyes for a long moment.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No,” he responds instantly. His hands go to the inside of my knees, spreading them. “You’re okay?” He’s staring at my sex, but I know he’s talking about the bandage he put on my thigh.

  “Yes.” I start to put my hand over my sex but pause when a deep, animalistic sound comes from Mateo.

  “I’m going to kiss you there, Milly. Going to make you feel all better.”