Free A Thief in Venice by Tara Crescent Page B

skill. The guards received a tongue-lashing that they weren’t going to forget any time soon. “She’s an amateur,” I scoffed at them. “A curator at the museum. She’s making you guys look like idiots. Get it together.”
    But inwardly, I laughed. My sweet little thief. She didn’t back down from the challenge, not one tiny bit.
    I broke into her apartment and filled it with flowers. She stormed over and told me that she was going to complain to the police. An idle threat and we both knew it. We played in my dungeon instead, and she spent the night curled into my arms.
    My housekeeper smiled approvingly at her the next morning. “I like this girl,” she announced to me when Lucia had left. Maria was in her sixties and was a treasure.
    “I do too,” I responded, my brain still in the fog it seemed to be enveloped in when I was around Lucia.
    ***
    Lucia:
    Oh, but I was playing a very dangerous game with Antonio Moretti, and I knew it. I was gambling with my heart.
    He had a reputation. There were plenty of women in his life. They came. They were wined and dined and then, when he tired of them, they were shown the door. Venice was a small town. Everyone gossiped.
    He would walk away without scars at the end of this thing. I wouldn’t. And my heart had scars enough already. It didn’t need more. Yet, like a moth to the flame, I fluttered towards him, unable to help myself.
    ***
    “Have dinner with me tomorrow,” he said. We were in his bedroom. He was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard. I was cradled in the space between his legs, my back resting on his chest. His arms were around my waist, holding me. I felt safe. Cherished.
    I shook my head. “No,” I replied.
    “Why not?” he countered.
    “I’m not going to be one of the endless line of women you take out to dinner,” I replied. I didn’t bother sugar-coating the words. He knew his own reputation.
    “There’s only one woman that matters, Lucia, and she’s leaning against me right now.” His voice had a slight edge to it. There was a pang in my heart. I wanted to believe him so much, but like every other woman in his life, I had an expiration date. I just didn’t know what it was yet.
    “No.” My voice was firm. I couldn’t stay away from his dungeon and his bed. But I was going to draw the line at going out with him in public.
    He sighed, and it was a pensive sound in the quiet. We stayed in silence for a bit, and I cast around for a topic that would end the melancholy.
    “Your guards didn’t seem to be too happy to see me,” I remarked.
    He chuckled. “They aren’t happy with you at all. You are making them look like idiots.”
    “Because I’m a woman?” I asked him.
    “Because you are an amateur,” he replied. “Women can be excellent thieves. But it rankles them to be beaten by someone who works at a museum.”
    I grinned at that. My parents had taught me well. “Don’t you want to know how I’m breaking in to your house?” I asked him.
    I could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, I am curious…” he said. “But I’m torn. This way, you see, I can get you into my dungeon and punish you for trying to steal from me.” He kissed my neck. “I very much enjoy punishing you, Lucia.”
    I shivered at his words. What he did to me – it wasn’t punishment. For some people, it might have been, but we both played the same way. He gave me pleasure. Pure, unadulterated pleasure, and he gave with generosity.
    “When’s my expiration date, Antonio?” The instant the words were uttered, I wanted to wish them back. I didn’t want to hear his answer. He would either speak the truth, and I would get hurt. Or he would lie, and I would get hurt as well. This story didn’t have a happy ending.
    “What are you talking about, sweetness?” His hands had tightened just a little bit around my waist.
    “Please. I can take the truth. Women walk in and out of your life all the time. I realize I’m one of many.”
    He