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his safe. Hands in black leather gloves turned the dial, and it appeared the person was pressing a stethoscope to the door of the safe to listen to the interior workings of the lock.
    He took off his shoes and, as quietly as he could, he snuck to his bedroom and opened the top drawer of his nightstand. The revolver felt cool in his hand. He wasn”t a particularly good shot.
    In fact, he had only shot the gun once or twice when he”d purchased it. It wasn”t loaded, but it would do as a deterrent. The ammunition was locked in a cabinet in his office and therefore out of reach.
    After a few deep breaths he turned the knob to the office and swung the door open, before pointing the gun at the intruder who instantly jumped to his feet.
    Correction: to her feet!
    Clearly she hadn”t planned on meeting him at the restaurant. The little temptress had simply wanted him out of the way.
    Dressed in figure hugging black trousers, a tight black turtleneck and black boots, it was doubtful if the Maitre d” at Claridge”s would have admitted her to the elegant dining room.
    “Olivia,” he greeted her. “What a surprise.”
    It was the understatement of the century.
    Her eyes searched for an escape route, but there was none. The window behind her had bars on the outside, and he blocked the door, the revolver still pointing at her.
    “And what is it that you”re after, since it”s obviously not my charming company?” Marcus asked casually.
    Her eyes grazed over his body, briefly resting on his torn trousers. He followed her look.
    “Lucky accident, otherwise I”d be sitting in the restaurant now, waiting for you in vain.”
    Olivia finally spoke. “Lucky for you, I guess.”
    She knew she was caught, but she didn”t know what he would do. Neither did he. Should he call the police? Have her arrested? Clearly, she was a burglar. A cunning one at that. She should be punished.

    Marcus let his eyes roam over her body. He knew already that she had amazing legs. She”d shown them off to him the night before - and not by accident, he knew that now. But the tight fitting clothes she wore now accentuated her curves even more.
    He”d bet a hundred quid that she didn”t wear a bra under that snug sweater of hers.
    “Ever been to prison?”
    He saw a quick flash of fear in her eyes.
    “I”ve never gotten caught.” Her voice was silky and just as tempting as he”d found it the night before.
    “There”s always a first. I never caught a thief before either. Especially not such a hot one.”
    Color rose slowly to her cheeks. Good. He liked her reaction. At least he didn”t leave her cold.
    “So you caught me. What now?”
    He smiled. Olivia was trying to take the offensive.
    “You”ll have to deal with the consequences, I”m afraid.”
    Sure, there”d be consequences. He”d have to punish her. And he suddenly knew exactly how.
    He took a couple of steps toward her, and instinctively she backed away. Her eyes went to the revolver in his hand. He shrugged and placed it onto his desk, then continued his approach until he stood only a foot from her.
    She stared at him, then back at the gun on the desk. Was she trying to figure out if she could get past him and reach for it? Turn the tables on him?
    Slowly he shook his head. “Olivia, Olivia,” he said as if talking to a naughty child.
    Naughty, yes. A child, no.
    How naughty was exactly what he wanted to find out.

    “We won”t need a gun, and we won”t need the police. I think we can take care of this between us.”
    She raised an eyebrow. “How?”
    He gazed at her luscious mouth.
    “A trade.”
    “Name your price. I”ve put sufficient money aside for unfortunate events like these.”
    Was she thinking she could buy her way out of the situation? Yes, he”d let her pay, but English pounds weren”t his currency of choice. “I”m not talking cold hard cash.”
    “A transfer to an offshore account then to avoid the taxman?” She offered with a knowing smile.
    His