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I’d never seen a walk-in closet so huge, the massive island in the center a piece of decadent furniture with its multiple drawers and solid black marble top. I ran my fingers across it before noticing whoever the man was, he had four different weapon holsters hanging in one section of his closet, which meant he was either law enforcement or a criminal. My bet was on the latter. I doubted the girls were brazen or stupid enough to require me to steal something from an officer of the law.
The mystery man’s attire certainly wasn’t that of a lawman either. I knew that well enough from the work my father did and the life we’d led as a family. A cold shiver trickled down my spine as the reality of what I was doing birthed additional butterflies in my stomach. I had to get the hell out of here.
I started opening the drawers, finding additional new shirts in packages, underwear and socks in another. There was nothing of real value, which was what the president of the sorority had demanded I find, something with the man’s initials. Jewelry was what I had in mind. I moved to the other side, finding nirvana with the third drawer I opened. Nestled inside were a dozen pristine and terribly expensive watches.
There were Hermes and Bulova, Longines and Breitling pieces, every one of them as bold as the man’s tie collection. I glanced at the partially open closet door before lifting a Bulova piece into my hand, the significant weight surprising. After looking at one after the other, I was certain none of them were engraved.
When I discovered exactly what I was looking for, I almost squealed with happiness. The watch was the only timepiece protected in a box, which meant it was precious. I turned it over, holding my breath. Yes. Yes! The expensive piece had been engraved as I’d hoped.
To my beloved Arman
It was signed with a capital S and nothing more. Oh, what I was about to do was bad, so very bad. Yet I slipped it around my wrist, easing the box back into position then closing the drawer.
As soon as I was ready to get the hell out of the man’s bedroom as well as his house, I heard a noise and almost panicked. I was no career criminal. What the hell did I think I was doing? I quickly moved to the door, turning off the closet light, yet was fearful of closing the door. I remained in the shadows, shifting back against a group of the man’s suits. Fear crawled over me like a snake slithering into my veins.
Stupid girl.
Chastising myself wouldn’t do any good now.
There was no doubt someone had entered the room. I heard a voice, the deep baritone creating a series of vibrations. There was something so sensual about the tone that I was forced to place my hand across my lips to keep from issuing an unwanted whimper.
“Fuck. This is ridiculous.”
“What’s wrong?” A second man’s voice was gruff, just as exasperated.
“What’s wrong? Betrayal. It needs to be handled tonight, Maddox. The asshole fucked with the wrong man.” His harsh words were followed by a loud thud, and I couldn’t help but jump in response. “You shouldn’t have allowed the shit to go down. I thought you were watching. God fucking damn it.”
“I’m sorry, Arman. The dude came in under the radar.” The second man’s voice was raspier, as if he’d smoked too many packs of cigarettes over the last few years. Or as if he was exasperated from Arman’s angry chastisement. Hell, I would be. “We both trusted him,” Maddox continued.
“That man could ruin us. He’s talking to the Feds,” Arman growled.
“We don’t know that for certain.”
I inched closer to the closet door. Against my better judgment, I peered out the crack, trying to control my scattered breathing. At this point my heart was fluttering like a butterfly trapped inside a jar.
“Like hell I don’t, and you mean he fucking used you,” the man named Arman snarled. “Goddamn it! You know who I’m dealing with. What I’m dealing with. This could ruin us. That cannot happen.”
Swallowing hard, I sensed his utter fury. A light was flicked on inside the room and I knew I should dip further into the shadows, but the warm glow allowed me to catch a glimpse of the enraged man and I was certain my heart was ready to cease beating.
The man was a Greek god reincarnated into the body of a GQ model.
Arman was without a doubt the most sinfully gorgeous person I’d ever seen in my life. Maddox wasn’t too bad himself, but I was instantly drawn to the angel who’d fallen from the heavens. Standing in his exquisitely tailored suit, one that matched the contours of his muscular physique perfectly, Arman appeared as if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine. I could imagine the cameras loved him from every angle, especially given the mahogany sheen of his curly locks and a body polished from the finest stone.
Whew. I found myself dragging my tongue across my bottom lip from concentrating on the fullness of his.
His name suited him. Strong and dominant, powerful in every way.
Arman was debonaire, his features aristocratic, but there was a rugged as well as dangerous air about him. Glowering, his jaw and the icy look in his eyes didn’t detract from his stunning good looks. With the hint of gray at his temples, I placed him in his early forties, a man completely comfortable in his own skin. I noticed black onyx cufflinks studded with diamonds on his shirt cuffs, something few men wore except with expensive tuxedos for stuffy events. I had a feeling they were the norm, a gesture stealing attention away from every other male in a room.
But when he placed his hands on his hips, shifting both sides of his jacket back by several inches, I knew I’d been right about my assumption that the man whose watch I wore on my small wrist was a criminal. That was easy to tell by the weapon he carried in the shoulder holster. Who the hell was this guy?
Then the handsome man with the chiseled good looks swung a brutal punch, catching Maddox in the jaw. A tiny moan slipped past my lips before I had a chance to slap both hands across my mouth. Then I closed my eyes, praying to God I hadn’t been heard.
Arman was no angel, unless he’d become one kicked out of heaven, sent spiraling into the darkness of hell.
“It won’t happen again, Arman. I thought Grayson was trustworthy. We vetted him.”
“Not enough. You should know better than to trust anyone in this business. Haven’t I taught you anything?”
