The Devil's Thief (3 page)

But
could she trust his word? That was the real question. Could she trust that he
would live up to his side of the bargain? And could she live with herself after
it was over, after she had sold her body for the price of a pearl?
 
Well, an incredibly beautiful, valuable
pearl, but still.

She
could feel his eyes on her, measuring her, tempting her, seducing her. She bit
her lip in panicked indecision and watched his eyes narrow just a bit more as
the rise and fall of his chest lost a step in the cadence of his breathing.

With
amazement she realized he really did want her. This might be a diversion for
him, a meaningless encounter, but he really did want her. Why? He didn’t
recognize her. For all he knew she was nothing but an immoral thief. And yet he
wanted her. Did he even know what she looked like? It was dark enough in the
room that she could make out only the basic outline of his features. If she
hadn’t seen him countless times before, she wouldn’t know the blue of his eyes,
the gleaming blond of his hair. So what did he see that intrigued him?

It is what he thinks me to be.
He thought her a thief, a trickster, a
criminal. It was why he’d proposed the bargain. He thought she was experienced,
he’d said as much. He thought she was a woman of the streets. She almost
laughed aloud. She knew her way around a lock, it was true, but she hadn’t
learned that on the streets. Oh, no. She’d learned that in the drawing rooms
and country houses of the glittering society in which he moved so effortlessly.
He had no idea who she was, none at all. And that was a good thing. She worked
very hard to blend into the background, disguising the real Julianna behind a
bland facade. That way no one would take an interest in her. It was a habit
she’d learned as a child, so as not to interfere with her father’s thieving or
romancing. She’d grown to like the anonymity of it. Now her disguise gave her
the freedom to do as she chose while society promenaded past her, uncaring
about who she was or what she did. Clearly Mr. Sharp had walked past as
uncaring as everyone else.

But
tonight he cared. Tonight she would drop all disguises and, for the first time
in her life, she would be herself and take what she wanted, as well as get what
she needed.

“I
accept,” she whispered the words as she closed her eyes tightly, her stomach
flipping, though not unpleasantly, at the risk she was taking.

Chapter Two

“Ah,
delightful,” he murmured in a satisfied tone. “It took you so long to think
about it that I was beginning to worry a little. Surely that was more than a
moment.”

Julianna
jumped as she felt his hand close gently around her upper arm. Her eyes flew
open and met his amused gaze. “In the scheme of things, I believe it was but a
moment,” she said breathlessly, trying to act normal, as if she did this sort
of thing all the time.

“I would
rather not waste even a moment in thought tonight,” he said in a dark tone that
made Julianna’s mouth dry up. Then his words sank in.

A
nervous giggle escaped from Julianna. “You don’t want me to think? You want me
to behave like a mindless idiot?”

Mr.
Sharp frowned. “Perhaps I did not phrase that correctly.”

“I
certainly hope not,” Julianna teased. She was proud of her bravado. She even
sounded a little like a loose woman.

“What
I meant was I want to spend every moment fucking, not wasting time discussing
it.” He was sounding a little like that annoyed schoolmaster again, and
Julianna would have grinned had she not been shocked senseless by his casual
use of such a crude word. Good Lord, that is what they were going to do, was it
not? Fuck. The word was deliciously low and crass, and rather frightening. Her
pulse was racing and a chill raced down her back. Was she really going to do
this?

She
allowed him to pull her close and press her hard against him. He smelled
wonderful. Like . . . man, she supposed. It was odd not to smell linen water,
or tobacco, or the myriad other scents that attached themselves to a man’s
clothes, masking the wonderful smell she was deeply inhaling. She smelled
spice, and heat.
Did heat have a smell?

The
warmth of his chest burned through the thin shirt she was wearing, and she felt
the press of him against her stomach. She knew what the act entailed. There had
been many maids and tavern girls who had been more than happy to explain it to
her as they helped her sneak her father in and out of the beds of married women
throughout her youth. But she had never before been tempted to give herself to
anyone.

But
Mr. Sharp was temptation itself. From the first moment she’d seen him, he had
tempted her more than the pearl. And now she would have him. The real Julianna
would never get this chance.
 
But
tonight, and tonight only, she would indulge this strange, inconvenient
passion. She would give him what no one else would ever have, what no one else
had wanted. And he would give her the pearl. It was a fair bargain.

“I
want to taste you, little thief. All of you.” His voice was so low it was
almost a growl. He bent his head and kissed her neck, nudging her shirt collar
out of the way as he did so. She felt a hot, wet swipe there and then his mouth
latched on to her neck and he sucked. The feeling was not unpleasant. Julianna
rose on her tiptoes and tilted her head to give him better access. His mouth
was warm and soft, and she knew he was being gentle.
 
But the caress was still rough and base
and Julianna was enjoying it.

She’d
heard a few women talking behind their fans the other night about his rakish
reputation, and the undesirable group of friends he associated with. They had
called them the Saint’s Devils. Was he a rake? A libertine? As he stopped his
gentle suckling and then licked the spot lightly, she wondered, did she even
care?

“Did
you like that?” he whispered. “I think you did.” She could hear a smile in his
voice and she smiled back into the night. “We are going to enjoy one another
immensely, little cat.”

He
pulled her toward his bed, walking backward with his hands wrapped around her
wrists, and she followed willingly. She was determined not to show any reluctance
or he might suspect her inexperience. And it would be silly to show a
reluctance she didn’t feel. She wanted to be on that bed with him, entwined in
his arms, letting him suck on her all night. She felt wicked and hot and
desirable and powerful. It was amazing, what he made her feel with just a
glance, a few words,
his
hands on her wrists.

“What
shall I call you?” he asked quietly as he stopped beside the bed. He reached
out and began to slowly pull her shirttails out of her trousers. For a moment
she panicked, worried he might find the pearl. Her breathing hitched when she
realized he meant to undress her. She answered him quickly, trying not to think
about what was to come, only concentrating on his question.

“Juli—,”
she began without thinking, only to stop in horror at the magnitude of her
slip. She’d nearly given him her real name. How utterly foolish she was
becoming in his presence. “Juliet,” she mumbled.

Mr.
Sharp chuckled and pulled her close again, laughing against her neck as his
arms wrapped around her waist and one hand swept down to caress her bottom.
“Juliet is it? And am I your Romeo?”

His
embrace and caress were offered so casually that Julianna was confused. How was
she to react? She’d never been the object of such attention before. Did men and
women often do this when they were alone? After a brief hesitation, she
snuggled into his embrace, earning another chuckle from him.

She
tentatively laid her fingertips on his bare back, and when he made no objection
she pressed her palms full against him. His skin was soft and warm, and she
could feel the pull of his muscles as he rocked her gently and nuzzled her neck
again. She had never been held like this. She couldn’t even remember the last
time she’d been this close to someone.

“Yes,
Juliet, touch me just like that,” he murmured, and Julianna felt gooseflesh
break out on her arms.

She
ran her hands down his back, more sure of herself now. She noticed the little
skip in his breathing, the shiver that raced down his back, rippling his
muscles. His arms tightened around her as her hands came to rest in the dip at
the small of his back. The skin there was warm and she glided her fingers
across it gently, making him shiver again. Some lines from Shakespeare’s
Romeo and Juliet
suddenly ran through Julianna’s
mind. She’d just seen the play last week. Part of Juliet’s speech to Romeo in
the balcony scene of Act Two seemed somehow appropriate tonight.

“ ‘In
truth, fair Montague,’ ” she whispered, “ ‘I am too fond, and therefore thou
mayst think my behavior light.’ ” Mr. Sharp went still as she quoted Juliet. “
‘But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true than those that have more
cunning to be strange.’ ”

“Juliet,”
he murmured as his hands glided up under her now loose shirt and the short
chemise she wore beneath it. The feel of his large, warm, rough male hands
against the bare skin of her back felt so decadent and erotic, it made Julianna
want to moan. “Go on,” he urged softly, “more.”

“ ‘I
should have been more strange, I must confess,’ ” she continued breathlessly, “
‘but that thou overheard’st, ere I was ware, my true love’s passion; therefore
pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night
hath so discovered.’ ” She could barely say the final words—his hands
were driving all thought from her head as they rubbed and glided over her skin,
which felt hot and tight and more sensitive than ever before. She moaned as
soon as the last word was out, and he pulled his hands to her sides, his thumbs
rubbing along her ribcage, dangerously close to her breasts.
Please, God
, she wanted them on her
breasts.

“Am
I now to swear constancy by the moon?” Mr. Sharp asked her, raising his head to
gaze intently at her face.

Julianna
licked her lips—she liked to watch him watch her do that—before
answering. “No, not the inconstant moon, Romeo.” He smiled wickedly at her.
“After all, I don’t believe that worked out so well in the end for
Shakespeare’s lovers.”

Mr.
Sharp laughed quietly in genuine amusement. “No, I don’t believe so. But then
we are neither foolish nor in love.”

Julianna’s
heart gave a little lurch at his teasing comment. No, they weren’t in love. Was
it foolish to want a man she didn’t love? She did feel foolish, as if this
brief encounter were indeed a play—a tragedy of epic proportions. Of
course they weren’t in love and never would be. She grew tense, but didn’t pull
away. She’d made her bargain and must deal with any regrets on the morrow. It
was too late to escape now, bound as she was by a thief’s honor.

“But
I will swear to the constancy of my desire,” he promised, and gently kissed her
forehead. “ ‘Lady by yonder blessed moon I swear,’ ” he quoted as he slid one
hand up to cover her feverish, aching breast. Julianna gasped and her legs felt
shaky and weak. He wrapped his other arm around her back and tugged her hips
into his. She felt it then, the hard, pulsing heartbeat between them. “I think
perhaps you are as taken with desire, Juliet, as
your
Romeo.”

“Gentleman,
by yonder blessed moon I swear,” Julianna misquoted, hating and loving her
breathless, uneven voice. She loved what he was doing to her, but she was
trying so hard to appear experienced and she was afraid the fear and
uncertainty in her voice would give her away.

Mr.
Sharp laughed again. “Ah, Juliet, how you delight me.”

Without
warning he swooped down and his lips covered hers. Julianna’s mouth flew open
in surprise and Mr. Sharp pressed his tongue inside. For a moment she was
immobile with shock and then her senses were flooded with the taste and
textures of his kiss. He tasted even better than he smelled. Like warm, sweet
whiskey and comfits. His lips were soft and moist, his breath hot, his tongue
smooth and wild as it swirled through her mouth, tasting her as she was tasting
him. He pulled her closer and his hand closed tighter upon her breast, the
pressure creating a pleasure she’d never thought possible. The sound she made
was more whimper than moan, a sound of utter surrender to what he was doing, to
what he was making her feel. It was madness and she wanted more—more of
this, more of him.

Julianna
wasn’t sure what he expected her to do, but she wrapped her arms around his
neck and finally buried her hands in those sinfully soft curls. It was almost
too much
;
the pleasure and taste of his kiss, the
touch of his hands, the feel of his hair, the heat of his skin. She gave in to
it, relinquishing herself to her senses. She thrust her tongue into his mouth,
suddenly ravenous for him. She wanted him to feel it, too. She wanted him to
throw caution and sanity aside for a taste of her.

Mr.
Sharp moaned and Julianna felt that thrill of power again, the power that came
from being desired. She pressed against him, her breast in his palm, her mons now
pressed against his hard length. He dipped and moved slightly and his leg slid
between hers, and Julianna had to tear her mouth from his to gasp at the
pleasure.