Romance of a Robbery: Thieves of Desire Book 5, page 4
“Not many can,” Juliet muttered, and Annabelle couldn’t help but snort at that.
Arie had already let himself into their house and had taken a seat in the drawing room’s largest chair. He pulled the round table closer to him, gesturing to a floral–patterned chair next to him before looking up at Annabelle. Understanding his intention, she sat down, slowly pulling the necklace out from the pocket on the right side of her dress.
“Well,” he said, “let’s see it.”
She lifted her hand, stretching it toward him, the necklace dangling from her fingers. Unlike the delicate pieces that she typically fabricated, this one had a thick, chunky chain that wrapped around the neck. Arie reached out and took it from her, their fingers brushing one another’s once more, and Annabelle hated the thrill that ran through her at their touch. She looked at the necklace in his hands, which, despite its size, seemed rather dainty now. His hands were large, strong, and she wondered what they would feel like if they were—
No. Those were not thoughts that had any business in her mind. This was Arie Hondros. The worst man she knew.
He lifted the necklace up to his face, inspecting one side and then the other. An oval and star design surrounded a bezel–mounted lapis stone. It was both simple yet also intricate in the detail. Annabelle couldn’t help that she was on edge waiting to see what he said. It was not that she cared what he thought, she told herself, but that she needed to know how much more work she had to do in order to finish it.
Annabelle looked toward the door, where Juliet was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, watching both of them.
Finally, Arie pushed himself up and looked over at her. “It’s perfect.”
Her eyes widened. “Pardon me?”
“It’s perfect. You did well.”
Annabelle didn’t know what to say to that, as she had been so prepared for his criticism.
He stood, placing the necklace in his own pocket. “I’ll be in touch.”
As he began to walk to the door, Annabelle also came to her feet, annoyed once more at how quickly he dismissed her. “That’s it?”
“Were you expecting something else?”
“Perhaps a thank you?”
Juliet stepped forward between them.
“Arie, I—I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“What are you talking about?” Arie said, seeming annoyed at the interruption.
Juliet clasped her hands together. “This is never going to work.”
“Excuse me?” Arie said. “Are you questioning my plan?”
“It’s not that. It’s the two of you,” she said, waving her hands toward them. “This idea that you are supposed to be married? No one is going to buy it. You talk like you’re strangers, like you know nothing about each other.”
“We don’t know anything about each other,” Annabelle countered.
“Well, there is one way to resolve that,” Juliet said, the corners of her lips twitching as though she was trying not to smile. Annabelle began to shake her head furiously, not liking where this was going as she knew Juliet’s mind far too well. When Arie looked her way, she tried to slow the headshake so he wouldn’t notice, but she ended up with a truly odd twitch in her neck that probably had both of them assuming she was going mad. “You should have dinner together,” Juliet finished.
“Dinner?” Arie said the word as if it was a foreign concept he had never heard of before.
“Yes,” Juliet said enthusiastically. “Get to know one another so that when you are within a group of strangers, it won’t be the first time that the two of you are speaking cordially.”
Annabelle had always loved Juliet as her closest of friends, but in this moment, she wished her eyes could actually shoot daggers at her.
“Very well. Eight o’clock tonight. At my home,” Arie said succinctly, not even looking back at Annabelle as he walked out the door, his shoulders tense and his back straight. The moment Annabelle assumed he was far enough that he could no longer hear them, she was stalking toward Juliet with fists at her side.
“What are you thinking?” she hissed, angered further when she saw Juliet was trying not to laugh.
“I am just trying to help you.”
“I know, but—”
“Annabelle.” Juliet settled her hands on Annabelle’s shoulders, turning her to look at her. “I know why you are doing this.”
“Do you?” Annabelle said, the anger fading as it was replaced by exasperation. “Because I certainly don’t.”
“You are doing this because you cannot help your desire to help others – even if it is a man like Arie Hondros. Perhaps, deep down, you see how broken he truly is. Your compassion is a noble trait. But it can also get you in trouble.”
“How so?”
“You are in over your head. Not in the sense of what you are capable of, for the fact you created something that Arie approved of means that you have already passed the harshest of critics.”
She was right, which was why Annabelle had been so nervous to show him her design.
“But when it comes to posing as Arie’s wife? You did a fine job acting as my lady’s maid when it came to tricking the baron, but this is something else entirely. You hate the man.”
Annabelle bit her lip, knowing Juliet was right. “So, what do I do?”
“You need to find something in him that you can pretend to like. He’s right in that some married couples do despise one another, but if you hated him that much, you wouldn’t be spending hours with him at his passion project at the museum. Now, is there anything about him that you can appreciate?”
Annabelle began to pace up and down the small drawing room. There was, of course, the fact that her body was drawn to his, that every time he was near her every nerve tingled. But somehow, sharing that with Juliet seemed like a betrayal to herself as it was a fact she never wanted to voice aloud.
“Well,” she said, stopping and placing her hands on her hips, “As you have mentioned, there is the fact that he cares for his family.”
“He does,” Juliet said with a nod. “That much is true.”
“And even though he would never expressly admit when he is wrong, he has, in a way, by welcoming the spouses of his siblings into the family even though he was initially against the matches.”
“He has,” Juliet said, half of her mouth curling up into a smile. “Although he made it quite clear that he wasn’t happy about doing so.” She studied Annabelle for a moment as though reading her mind. “Then there is also the fact that he is rather handsome, in that broody kind of way.”
“Juliet!” Annabelle exclaimed. “You are married to his brother!”
Juliet laughed. “I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And I have no attraction to Arie. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t acknowledge his looks.”
“Yes,” Annabelle said, finding it easy to agree with Juliet but not admit to anything more. She paused, unsure exactly of how to say it, but wanting to explain to Juliet that she did feel another emotion toward him besides hatred. “He told me about his parents.”
“Did he now?”
She nodded curtly. “It does explain his motivations. And it makes me feel… well, I suppose some sympathy toward him.”
“Does he know you feel like that?”
“He does.”
“I bet that went over well,” Juliet said with a snicker, and Annabelle laughed wryly.
“He was not entirely pleased.”
“Well, I would suggest not to bring that up again,” Juliet said. “If there is one thing that Arie hates, it is to be pitied.”
The clock rang out and Juliet stood. “We best go relieve Xander and give you time to work. Oh, and Annabelle?”
“Yes?”
“Arie loves purple. Perhaps your violet dress would be best.”
* * *
Arie hadn’t been able to focus the rest of the day. His sister, Diana, and her husband, Wade were still living with him after their home had burned to the ground. Arie still had a difficult time accepting the fact that his sister had married Wade, who had been his friend as boys but had later attempted to bring down his entire operation. They had bought a new property, with the help of Wade’s newly discovered viscount of a father and were preparing it for their living quarters once more, but in the meantime, Arie had opened up his doors to them.
He had plenty of room, after all.
Diana was now watching him from across the room, her eyes narrowed shrewdly as she looked up from the note she was writing on the table in front of her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re stewing.”
“I am not.”
“Would this have anything to do with your dinner tonight with the lovely Annabelle Kennedy?”
“That is a business dinner. A means to an end.”
“Right.”
Arie pulled himself up to his full height as he looked down his nose at his sister. She was not one to typically question him – no one who knew him well ever did. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Diana sighed as she leaned back in her chair. Marriage to Wade had made her much bolder than she had been before. “It means that Annabelle is a lovely young woman, who will be posing as your wife. Would it be such a bad thing for you to try to get to know her a bit better?”
Arie opened his mouth to tell Diana exactly what he thought about her “suggestion,” but when he saw the hope that lit up her eyes, he took a breath and tempered himself, knowing he had to quash it.
“Yes, Diana, it would be a bad thing. A very bad thing.”
He just wasn’t about to tell her why. He turned toward his office when she called out to him.
“Yes?” he said tersely, finished with his family and all of their helpful ideas on what he should be doing with his life.
“Wade and I won’t be here tonight. Oh, and I talked to Juliet and asked what Annabelle’s favorite dish is. She’s partial to fish, it seems, so our cook is going to prepare salmon, among his other dishes, of course.”
Arie prided himself on the French chef he had poached from a noble family. He narrowed his eyes as he was no idiot and knew exactly what Diana was doing. But he was also strong enough to not give into these ridiculous schemes of his family.
So instead of responding, he stood to walk out of the room. He had to prepare himself for a night without succumbing to the matchmaking occurring around him – and his own base urges, which were likely more than whatever his family had planned.
“Arie?” Diana called, and he stopped although he didn’t turn to her.
“What is it?”
“I have to tell you something.”
“Then say it.”
“I really wish you would turn around.”
He finally did, finding her standing before him with fingers clasped in front of her, an uncertain expression on her face.
“I– I’m with child.”
He blinked. Once, twice, and then, before he even knew what he was doing, he had crossed toward her and wrapped his arms around her. She stood there, still for a moment as though in shock that her eldest brother would actually show her such affection, and then in a swift motion, hugged him back fiercely. Arie had to blink back tears, knowing how much this would mean to Diana, after everything she had been through.
“I’m happy for you, Diana,” he said when he drew back away from her. “Truly.”
“Thank you, Arie,” she said softly. “Now, enjoy your dinner with Annabelle.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. It wasn’t his enjoyment he was worried about. It was whether Annabelle would even be able to stomach a dinner with him.
For one thing was certain – Annabelle Kennedy hated him.
And he wasn’t about to set himself up for disaster.
CHAPTER 6
Annabelle was taken aback when, later that evening, Arie himself answered the door at her knock.
“Come in,” he said in his low, gravelly voice before he reached out to help her with her cloak, his fingers brushing against her neck as he swiftly untied it before Annabelle could even react.
“Thank you,” she said softly as he led her into the room through the front foyer.
“We might as well go right to the dining room,” he said, and she nodded, pleased that he also seemed against making this into any more than it was. They could have a quick dinner, discuss any pertinent details they needed to know about one another, and then be on with it.
“You didn’t come alone, did you?” he asked as she followed him through.
“Xander walked me,” she said, not telling him that she did often walk alone, but Xander, knowing that she was going out and where she was going, had insisted on escorting her.
“He didn’t want to come in?”
“Apparently not,” she answered. They had parted company at the walk in front of the house, and he’d left once he saw Arie open the door to her. Arie grunted in response now, and Annabelle wondered how she was ever supposed to learn more about the man if he didn’t speak more than five words to her at a time.
“So,” she began as a maid came in and poured them each a glass of wine, “what is it we should learn about one another?”
Arie eased into his chair at the head of the table after helping her to the seat beside him. She was pleased, at least, that they were close enough they wouldn’t have to shout at one another from across the room.
“Well, it seems I am already learning something, for Diana tells me that we are to have your favorite foods tonight.”
“Oh?” she said, raising her brows. “What would that be?”
“Salmon.”
“I do like fish,” she said, running her fingers over the stem of her wine glass, finding it disconcerting to stare directly into his brown eyes, which reminded her of a wolf’s with the amber circle around the edges of the dark brown in the middle. “I am told you have an excellent chef.”
“I do.”
She nodded. “And your favorite foods?”
“Beef.”
“I see,” she said, clenching her teeth together as she tried to keep herself from saying what was really on her mind, which was just how frustrated he was making her. “And what do you like to do besides steal priceless artifacts from museums?”
He chuckled wryly, and she had to admit that she liked hearing some form of humor.
“There is not time to do much besides ensure that all is in order with my business.”
“Your business.”
“Or whatever you’d prefer to call it.”
“Your criminal enterprise?”
He shrugged, nonplussed. “If that’s how you see it.”
“Tell me if I have this right,” she began, drumming her fingertips on the table as the maids came in now with the first course, placing the bowls of creamy pea soup in front of them. “You have Aphrodite’s, the gaming hell. That is legitimate.”
“Yes.”
“But you have some gambling that is not legal?”
“Perhaps.”
“And then you offer protection to businesses?”
“Yes.”
“For a price.”
“Are you judging me, Annabelle?”
“No.” She shook her head as she took a small sip of the soup, which was some of the best she had ever tasted. “I am just trying to understand you.”
He snorted. “I can’t say I understand the difficulty.”
“Yet it seems to be a task that no one has yet mastered.”
He didn’t answer her at that, so instead she continued. “Then there are the goods that you smuggle.”
“I don’t smuggle them,” he commented. “Mulberry – Grace’s father – does that. I simply sell the goods.”
“Right. You sell the smuggled goods.”
“Yes.”
“And then you steal.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that,” he said shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and she had the sense that he wasn’t pleased at the thought that he didn’t have her approval.
“You know that I have done things myself that many would frown upon and that I am agreeing to help you in this scheme,” she said with a bit of a laugh. “I am not exactly one to judge.”
He put down his soup spoon and looked at her. “Why are you doing this?”
She swallowed hard under the intensity of his gaze. “I’ve been asking myself that, actually.”
“And have you come to any conclusions?”
“Well, Juliet thinks it’s because I cannot stop myself from helping people.”
“Do you think that she’s right?”
Annabelle paused, her fingers fidgeting with the spoon as she tried to come up with an answer for him. Everything he did or said was with such intensity that she found herself wording everything carefully, for she knew he paid attention to every word.
“It’s not so much that I can’t stop myself,” she began with some hesitation, “but more so that I can’t help but want to do so. If I have the ability to help someone else, why wouldn’t I?”
Arie stared at her, the skin at the corner of his eyes wrinkling slightly as though in deep study. “But what do you get out of it?”
Annabelle blinked. “Isn’t the point of helping another that you are acting on behalf of someone else instead of yourself?”
“That may be what you think, but I have a theory,” Arie said as the maids came in and cleared away the soup, replacing the bowls with the salmon dish.
“Which would be?” Annabelle prompted after they left, not sure if she wanted to hear it or not.
“That people help others in order to feel better about themselves.”
Annabelle straightened her spine at that.
He didn’t seem to notice – or care – as he continued. “If you help someone else, that inflates your own ego. Twice now you have done something for me – something that I will be paying you for, at that – and you have sat there, waiting for a thank you.”
Heat rose from Annabelle’s belly, up through her chest and into her throat. She narrowed her eyes at him as she tried to decide whether or not she should get up and leave.
“That’s not fair,” she said, attempting to reason with him instead, even though she knew it was futile to try.
