Stealing Scarlett Read online

  STEALING SCARLETT

  Isabella Snow

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  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Stealing Scarlett

  Isabella Snow

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © November 2007 by Isabella Snow

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  2ISBN 978-1-59632-313-1

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Christy Pacheco

  Cover Artist: Anne Cain

  Dedication

  While this novel is certainly a work of fiction, all scenes involving air travel are legitimately possible. For that, I’d like to thank pilot Fred Robinson, who spent weeks answering my research questions. I’d also like to thank both the FAA and U.S. Customs, who were kind enough to explain domestic/international laws and procedures to me.

  Prologue

  Christmas Eve

  “Son, I need you here.”

  Chase rattled the ice cubes against his glass of scotch. No wonder his father had insisted he attend this party ‑‑ he had to have known a phone call would’ve resulted in a firm no. Temporary or not, sorting out the Italian office wasn’t something he’d wanted to do. Now that he had, he wasn’t inclined to do the board any additional favors. Besides, he’d been unexpectedly charmed by the Italian Alps and really couldn’t imagine leaving.

  “Can’t Vince fill in?”

  Preston Turner shot the younger man a look. “And interfere with his time on the putting green?” He snorted in obvious disgust.

  “Who’s next in line under Blake?” Chase asked.

  “A new hire ‑‑ I haven’t met her yet,” Preston admitted. “Vince is bringing her tonight.”

  Chase didn’t bother hiding his surprise. Vince must be feeling uncharacteristically kind. His playboy cousin had quite a reputation for dating only the most beautiful women Chicago had to offer.

  “Speak of the devil.” His father nodded toward the ballroom’s entrance.

  The younger man turned to follow his father’s gaze. Vince made his usual grand entrance, strutting in like a celebrity. Chase sighed and raised the scotch to his lips ‑‑ stopping abruptly as a stunning beauty followed the blond peacock into the ballroom.

  She wore a sleeveless, empire-cut gown, which showcased slender arms and shoulders and drew attention to the delicate gold cuff circling her upper arm. The girl looked like a Greek goddess. Legs that went on for miles and gorgeous, jet black hair, which hung to her waist. A frown touched the corner of his eyes. That couldn’t possibly be the new hire. Women in his line of work simply didn’t look like that.

  Preston let out a low whistle beside him. “If I were thirty years younger…”

  Chase lowered his glass and watched as Vince directed the girl to a far corner of the room, his hand on her waist the entire time. His cousin whispered something in her ear and then disappeared into the crowd. Staring at the young beauty, Chase tried to reconcile the idea of someone so beautiful holding so powerful a position. She had to be brilliant ‑‑ something he didn’t expect to find paired with that kind of beauty.

  “Merry Christmas, gentlemen.” Vince had snuck up behind the two men, champagne glass raised in preparation for a toast.

  They turned to face him, the smiles on their lips never quite reaching their eyes.

  “Vince.” Preston raised his glass of white wine.

  “Chase?” Vince held his glass out in an attempt to get his cousin’s attention.

  “Who’s the girl?” Chase looked over his shoulder to get another glimpse of her loveliness.

  “Scarlett Montgomery.” Vince’s lips curled into an evil smile. “Bit of a cold fish, but I intend to change that.”

  “That explains why you’ve parked her in the corner.” Chase sipped his scotch slowly.

  Vince opened his mouth to retort, but Preston silenced him with a warning look.

  “Not tonight, boys.” He gave Vince a thin smile. “Chase returns to Italy in the morning, and we’ve business to discuss, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

  The blond-haired man actually looked relieved, as if business was the last thing he might ever want to discuss. “Of course. Enjoy the party.”

  Chase squared his jaw as Vince strutted away from them and headed for the bar. The girl was still standing alone. He wondered how long his cousin was going to leave her like that.

  “Don’t even think about it.” Preston shook his finger in the air.

  “What?” The younger man’s eyes never left her slender form.

  “You know what.” Preston grabbed another glass of wine from a passing waiter. “You say one word to that girl, and Vince will have a fit ‑‑ which would only cause her unnecessary embarrassment.”

  His father had a point. He decided to change the subject. “Tell me more about this temporary position.”

  Preston’s face lit up with hope. “Daniel leaves in April; the board votes in May,” he began. “After that, you’d be free to return to New York yourself.”

  “About New York ‑‑”

  A loud squeal drew both men’s attention to the dance floor, as Vince twirled a petite young woman across the tiles. The fool appeared to have forgotten all about his date. Chase’s gaze swept the room for the raven-haired beauty. She’d slipped into the shadows and was barely visible. He could feel his blood boil at his cousin’s selfish behavior. His mouth formed a tight line as he turned to face his father.

  “One month ‑‑ we’ll discuss the rest after the board selects Daniel’s replacement.”

  Preston beamed at the younger man. “Excellent!”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to step outside for a few minutes.”

  “You won’t regret it, son.” His father raised his glass in thanks as Chase made his way toward the terrace.

  Smiling to himself, he downed the last of his scotch and set his glass down on a nearby table. He had to agree, he didn’t think he was going to regret it one bit.

  * * * * *

  Scarlett Montgomery stared at the smiling faces twirling about before her. Eight, nine, ten couples out there on the dance floor, having the time of their lives. Telling jokes and spreading Christmas cheer as she stood alone in a far corner of the ballroom.

  What the hell was she doing here?

  When Vince Turner had handed her the invitation and asked her to join him, instinct told her to run screaming from the room. They’d only just met, but she knew the type. Rich, arrogant, and smarmy. The kind of man who could make you feel unclean just by smiling at you. If his uncle, the company CEO, hadn’t signed the invitation himself, she would’ve said no. It just would’ve been foolish to risk offending
her new boss before she’d even met him, or had the chance to prove her worthiness as a vice president.

  So here she was, at the company Christmas party ‑‑ surrounded by colleagues she had yet to be introduced to, because her date had abandoned her shortly after their arrival. She looked down at her gown and smoothed the cream-colored silk with her fingers. Somewhat depressing, really, prettying oneself up and having nothing to show for it. Not even a sideways glance since the time of her arrival. Something she’d grown accustomed to over the years. It was her height. In average heels, she stood about six feet tall, which meant she towered over the Napoleonesque bankers scattered around the ballroom.

  “Could I have your attention, please?” A man tapped his champagne flute in the center of the room.

  She watched in silence as the crowd began to circle around him. He vanished briefly before climbing onto a chair amid the onlookers. As he began directing people to various locations, she caught a glimpse of a large camera slung over his shoulder. Her stomach lurched. That must be the guy whose flash had been going off all evening.

  Her eyes darted around the room in search of the nearest exit. She wasn’t about to have her face plastered across the company newsletter. A row of French doors lined the far end of the room, and she headed in their direction. She’d almost made it when a waiter stepped in front of her. He bowed slightly, presenting a tray of red wine.

  “Thank you, no.” She wasn’t much of a drinker. One glass and she’d be lucky if she remembered her name in the morning.

  A little amnesia sounds perfect right now.

  Scarlett stopped in her tracks. The voice had a point. She whipped around and swept a glass off his tray. The waiter paused briefly, and she grabbed a second before he could move out of reach. It was going to take more than one glass of wine to make up for this evening.

  She sighed wearily as she reached one of the doors. Using her elbow to press the handle down, she nudged the glass frame open with her foot. A cold Chicago wind nipped her bare shoulders as she stepped outside and closed the door behind her. The second floor terrace was almost pitch black against the backlighting from the street below. Squinting against the bright orange haze, she scanned the balcony as best she could. It looked empty, as far as she could tell. Of course it was. No one in their right mind would wander outside on a night like this.

  Gingerly navigating a maze of silhouetted objects, she walked toward the terrace wall. Raising a glass to her lips, she downed half the contents before even reaching it. The head rush was instant. This was precisely why she didn’t drink! She polished off the glass and set it down on the balustrade. Feeling a bit tipsy now, she leaned against the stone banister to steady herself.

  One down, one to go.

  Teetering as a gust of wind crashed into her, she held the second glass up to the light and prepared to guzzle it down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Good Lord, she was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

  “I think you’ve had enough.” A large hand closed over her wrist while another seized the glass from behind her.

  Her eyes flew open, and she spun around to protest. Unfortunately, her legs weren’t fully prepared for the motion. High heels crashed into one another, knocking her off balance and sending her careening toward the ground. Bracing for impact, she gasped as a powerful arm slipped around her waist and hauled her upward. She’d nearly caught her breath when he yanked her forward suddenly, drawing her against a muscular chest. Long, black hair spilled across her face as he turned around and placed his back to the wall, forcing her to turn with him. Her wine glass clinked softly as he set it down on the icy balustrade.

  “Where’s your coat?” He held her close as he shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket.

  His voice was incredible. The very sound sent a shiver down her spine. Or was that just the wine? Moaning softly, she closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her temple. “I didn’t bring one.” She tried to sound sober.

  “Has no one explained winter to you?” He sounded amused as he draped his jacket around her shoulders.

  Feeling chagrined, she opened her eyes and pressed her hands against his chest. Between the freezing wind stinging her eyes and the bright haze shining in her face, it was impossible to get a good look at him. Particularly with his back to the light. What kind of man lurked in the shadows, anyway?

  “Let go of me, you…you…wine liberator!”

  Strong fingers gripped her waist and pulled her hips against him, making it impossible for her to back away. Gently, he swept the hair out of her face, tucking a few strands behind her ear. As he drew himself up to his full height, the man’s size was suddenly apparent, despite the shadows engulfing him. Her eyes widened. He was massive.

  “You should be inside, where it’s safe,” he murmured softly.

  Safe?

  Her heart began to pound as his grip tightened around her waist. As he leaned closer, she could almost feel his gaze on her lips. Her stomach began to flutter nervously at the thought of him kissing her. Not that she wanted him to.

  “I can take care of myself,” she insisted.

  “Duly noted.” His tone was playful. “Where is your date?”

  “I don’t have one,” she replied.

  “Does Vince know that?” He chuckled softly.

  She tensed for a moment. How did he know about Vince? “He’s not my type.” A truthful statement if ever she’d spoken one.

  “And who is?” Strong fingers explored the curve of her waist.

  “Not you, surely,” she replied haughtily.

  His hand shot through her hair, pulling her head to the side sharply. He bent downward, his lips grazing the hollow of her throat. The feel of his breath on her skin was intoxicating. The slow, deliberate pace with which he explored the curve of her neck was almost maddening. Sliding his palm over her well-rounded bottom, he pressed her hips into his, letting her feel his length through her gown. Her head fell backward, a low moan escaping her lips. She had more self-control than this, didn’t she?

  “You were saying?” he asked softly.

  “I need to go.” She barely managed to get the words out, her thoughts were so muddled.

  “So soon?” His lips brushed against her cheek.

  Her head was clouding over. His body felt so powerful. So male. Her nipples tingled as they pressed against his chest. A complete stranger was turning her body to putty. This should feel wrong, shouldn’t it?

  Yes! Yes, it should!

  “I’m not some trollop stumbling around in search of a good time.” She cleared her throat and tried to put some distance between them.

  “You needn’t justify your attraction to me,” he admonished her gently.

  Scarlett’s jaw dropped. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, she did the only thing she could think of. Without hesitation, her hand flew through the darkness and managed to slap him squarely across the cheek, despite not being able to see much more than his silhouette.

  The voice in her head gasped in horror. Have you lost your mind? She winced at the question. He grew still, and she could almost feel his temper flare. You could’ve heard a pin drop as the man brought his face close to hers.

  Say something!

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came ‑‑”

  His mouth descended upon hers before she could finish the sentence. Seizing her wrists, he pinned her arms behind her back and crushed her against him. It wasn’t painful ‑‑ just enough to let her know who was in control. Surprisingly, the act itself made her feel incredibly feminine, something she rarely felt, given her size. She stood helpless in his embrace, with no choice but to let him have his way.

  And his way was making her wet.

  One of the terrace doors swung open suddenly, glass panels rattling as they hit an adjacent doorframe. “Oh!” A woman’s voice sounded from the doorway. The poor thing sounded rather embarrassed as she stepped back into the building and closed the door behind her.

  Exhaling shakily, Sc
arlett tried to hide her disappointment as the stranger released her and backed away. She felt dazed, hands trembling slightly as she tried to pull herself together. No man had ever been so bold her with her. Part of her wanted to scratch his eyes out. And part of her wanted him to finish what he’d started. But she wasn’t going to beg for it.

  Throwing her shoulders back, she reached for the balustrade and grabbed the glass of wine he’d taken away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the stem and pulled it toward her ‑‑ but the glass had frozen to the slick surface. Feeling his gaze on her back, she squeezed it more tightly, hoping to be on her way before he noticed her dilemma.

  “You might want to be ‑‑”

  “Enjoy the party.” She talked right over him, giving the glass a good yank until it finally detached from the wall. A loud howl escaped her lips suddenly, interrupting his advice as the jerky movement sent a wave of red wine cascading down the center of her dress.

  “-- careful.”

  Scarlett stared down at herself in horror. She’d saved every penny for this gown, only to see it ruined the first time she wore it. The burgundy stain was glaringly apparent against the creamy silk. How was she supposed to make a graceful exit now?

  “You’ll find a handkerchief in the breast pocket.” He began to step out of the shadows, but she raised a hand to stop him.

  Sighing miserably, she downed the remaining contents of the glass. A few seconds later and her head was swimming again. Perfect. She hoped it might ease the humiliation between here and the taxi. Setting the empty glass back down on the wall, she started removing the tuxedo jacket.

  “Keep it.” He was smiling; she could hear it in his voice.

  “But how would I return it?” She hesitated.

  “I’ll collect it eventually, don’t worry.”

  There was an air of mystery in his voice. That, or the merlot was stronger than she’d thought. Either way, her head was spinning, and she needed to get out of here. Alone. Away from this man and his indelible charm. Gingerly, she walked toward the door, praying she wouldn’t trip over anything in her path ‑‑ she had no desire to amuse him further.