Page 5 of The Diamond Thief
I take it. He leads me onto a balcony overlooking the city. Lights twinkle both near and far as the late-night streets seem almost at rest. A lone taxi idles near the intersection.
“Have you lived here long?” I ask.
“A few years,” he says. “It’s quiet. Away from the bustle of Fifth Avenue.”
“It is,” I say, not adding that it’s mainly quiet because it’s almost one in the morning.
“Did you travel far to get here?” he asks.
“Not overly,” I say.
We look out on the night, seeming to be out of things to talk about already. That’s fine. I’ve already said more than I should have.
“Shall we go inside?” he asks. He downs the rest of his drink.
I follow suit, trying to make sure it’s clear that I can actually drink with any man.
“Absolutely,” I say, letting my voice go husky.
Jacob gives me a half grin, his eyes skimming my body. That’s what the voice was for. It’s thehurry up and get this show on the roadvoice.
Jacob takes my glass and leaves them both on the edge of the bar as we pass by. We cross through the red room and down a dimly lit hall. Two doors are bedrooms with a Jack-and-Jill bath in between.
One is a bathroom for guests to access from the living room. And the last room will be his. Everything is as I expected it to be. This night will go smoothly.
He opens the last door, a master suite the size of most people’s apartments, including mine. Unlike the scarlet room of doom, this one is more gently appointed in soft taupe and navy blue.
“It’s lovely,” I say.
He shrugs. “Some decorator did it.”
“Did the decorator choose the red room?”
“As instructed,” he says. The smirk is back.
“Murder chic,” I say. “It definitely makes a statement.”
The bed is massive, larger than anything I’ve ever seen. Even so, it takes up only one small part of the room. There’s a sofa and chairs on one side. Door to a closet, door to the bathroom. The two bay windows don’t open.
I know my exits.
He turns me in a slow circle, his hand lifting mine above my head.
“I like very much what I see,” he says, and now his voice has that same husky quality I used on him earlier. “I want to see more.”
“Your wish is my command,” I say.
I turn my back to him so that he can work the zipper. But he takes a step away, and his voice changes completely, from casual stranger to unrelenting domination.
“You will strip for me. You will follow all my instructions. And from this moment forward, you will not speak.”
This is more like what I expected from him. I shiver with anticipation. I’ve made the right choice to come here, to be his tonight.
I turn to face him, then reach behind my neck to the top of the zipper. I slide it down. The dress skims my body to fall directly to the floor in a perfect puddle of silk.
Jacob’s eyebrows lift. “Nice,” he says.
Beneath the dress, I wear a sheer black bra that reveals rosy nipples. His eyes go there first, then float down my belly to the barest of panties, just a scrap of lace that makes clear how bare I am for him. It isn’t necessary to remove them for what he has in mind. Clipped to a lacy garter belt are stockings leading to stilettos.
