Stealing the Billionaire's Heart (2 page)

He waved her away. “No, it’s fine.”

Nixie relocked the case once the
necklace was free. “Is this for Miss December?” she asked conversationally.

Nick’s girlfriend was a very
successful, famous model named Sarah Spade.

She was the hottest item on the
market right now. Her popularity had nearly skyrocketed overnight when she did
a few racy photos for a couple of nudie magazines. She was all bleached blonde
hair and fake boobs. Sarah was as skinny as the poles she occasionally danced
on. She’d earned the name Miss December by only posing for wintery photographs.
She was the classic snow bunny…if snow bunnies went out in barely concealing,
thong bikinis.

“We split up,” Nick said, interrupting
her thoughts. “Two weeks ago.”

His statement caught her off guard.
Instead of grabbing a box to stick the necklace inside, Nixie ended up spilling
half the boxes onto the floor. “Oh, dear.” Bending down, she began frantically
picking up the boxes and tossing them haphazardly to the counter. “I’m sorry…to
hear about you and Miss…Sarah.” She popped back up with an apologetic look.

Nick shrugged. “I’m not.”

There was an uncomfortable silence,
and as an excuse to look away, Nixie grabbed the necklace and rang it up.

“It’s for my sister,” Nick added as
he pulled out his wallet. “It’s her birthday.”

She gave a quick nod. “That’s
nice.” She tried to look cool and calm, but her heart was beating frantically
in her chest.

Nicholas Morgan was back on the
market and here he was standing in front of her like a delectable sex mirage.
That thought brought a blush to her cheeks and made her drop the box with his
necklace in it to the floor. “I am so sorry,” she stammered, sinking to her
knees on the carpet.

“I’m starting to think you’re not
very coordinated.”

Nixie replied with a tittering
laugh. “Is it that obvious?” She popped up again, nearly hitting her head a
second time.

“Alarmingly so,” he said wryly,
taking the bag she held out that contained his purchase.

“Yeah…well…”

“Well,” Nick repeated slowly,
holding eye contact for a long moment.

Nixie felt her heart constrict in
her chest. He was so gorgeous…and those eyes…

“Thank you,” he said, voice low and
gravelly.

She gave him a tight smile, unable
to do anything else.

On her silence, he returned the
smile and walked away.

Nixie noticed the receipt next to
her hand just as he was reaching the door. “N…Mr. Morgan,” she cried. When he
turned, she rushed across the room, the paper held in the air. “Your receipt,”
she said breathlessly. “We wouldn’t want you to leave without that.”

His eyes searched her face and
Nixie knew she should say something, anything. By the time she thought she
might have a coherent sentence ready, he took the receipt from her hand and
said, “Thanks again.” Then he was gone.

In disappointment, Nixie trudged
back behind the counter.

“Do you know who that was?” Joe
gushed. “Do you?”

“Nick Morgan,” she replied glumly.

“This will be great for business,”
Joe pressed on. “Nick Morgan shops here. Imagine the publicity!”

“Mmmph,” she grumbled. As she
rounded the counter, her toe kicked something underneath. She stooped down and
felt around on the floor. Her hand closed over a small box.

As soon as her eyes landed on it,
she felt a sinking sensation in her gut. “Oh no,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

But there it was when she creaked
the box open, the necklace just purchased by Nicholas Morgan. “Just imagine the
publicity,” she whimpered in apprehension.

Twenty minutes later, Nixie was
pacing the floor, the necklace shoved deep in her pocket. “What am I going to
do?” She was just waiting for Nick to come storming through the door, demanding
an apology––or worse, her arrest. She bit her lip at that thought. They
wouldn’t really throw her in jail for an honest mistake, would they?

She had to tell Joe. She shook her
head frantically. She couldn’t tell Joe. Joe would fire her for sure. No. She
had to deal with this herself. But how could she do that without anyone finding
out? She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Perhaps…” Her heart leapt into
her throat at the danger of the plan she was formulating. Was she really
considering breaking into the man’s house to
return
a necklace? No way
would it work.

He was bound to have tight security
and bodyguards. She would get caught for sure…but there was that charity dinner
he was scheduled to attend this evening. She remembered hearing all about it.
Surely he would take his bodyguards with him.

It would be easy. Break in, place
the necklace in the empty box she’d obviously given him, and get out. No
problem, right? She let out a miserable groan, trying to swallow back a lump in
her throat the size of
Texas
.
It was impractical, stupid, and bound to land her in prison. Of all the dumb,
disorganized ideas she ever had, this one might be the worst. So, why not? It
was only one giant disaster waiting to happen.

Chapter Two

Nick was slouched in his sitting
room, casting bored glances at the clock. It was only 12:30. That was far too
early to go to bed on a Saturday night. He just didn’t know what to do.

If he were in
L.A.
, there would be a million hot spots he
could swing by. Here, there was nothing. Nothing to distract him from the fact
that he was alone. Though he had no one to blame but himself for that problem.
He was the one to break things off with Sarah. He was the one to ask for some
space when she huffily stated he would change his mind, and yet somehow, he was
the lonely one.

With a sigh, he put the book he’d
been reading down on the table next to him. His real problem had nothing to do
with boredom. His dilemma was that he simply couldn’t concentrate. Every time
he got into something, a flash of big, black curls would enter his mind. His
thoughts would wander to orange, chipped fingernail polish. Honestly, who wears
orange on their nails? No one sane, apparently …

That had to be what was bothering him:
The orange polish. It was so fashionably unacceptable. That girl was a fashion
crisis! With her broken shoe…

“What was with the shoe?” he asked
the empty room. How did something like that happen? How could someone so tiny
be so destructive? It was baffling. Though he
had
felt bad for her, all crumpled on the floor like that. With her
skirt riding up over her creamy thighs…

Nick closed his eyes, savoring that
mental picture. He should have gone back and gotten her number. Why not? He was
single. He was lonely. He was attracted to her. He was…not alone in the house.

Nick was positive he’d hear the
distinct sound of footsteps. He sat absolutely still, listening for the
slightest noise. A second later, the sound of something being dropped to the
floor could be heard.

Trying to keep his alarm to a
minimum, Nick moved swiftly to the kitchen. He had a whole security system set
up inside. He could view any room in the entire house. A nifty device when one
has uninvited visitors.

It didn’t take him long to track
down the intruder. The burglar was in his bedroom. His
bedroom
. When he
took a closer look, his eyes widened in disbelief. The little felon had long,
black curls. When she spun around, he nearly gasped. It was her! The girl he’d
been obsessing over all night.

Turning in the direction of the
hall, he marched up the steps, determined to confront the little vixen. His
mind couldn’t decide whether he was extremely turned on or unbelievably pissed.
Perhaps it was a mixture of both. He wasn’t sure how to blend those two
reactions…or if he even could.

He rounded the upstairs hallway and
reached the bedroom doorway just in time to see her clasping the necklace he’d
bought earlier around her neck.

* * *

Nixie was so close. She was in. All
she had to do now was put the necklace in his box…and not knock anything else
onto the floor. Over her shoulder, she gave Nick’s cell phone a dirty look.
She’d tripped on the wire of the charger and sent it crashing to the ground.
Dumb cord.

She silently pondered over the fact
that he didn’t have his phone with him. He was out for a night on the town. You
would think he’d bring that. With a shrug, she turned back to the task at hand.
She’d found the box in the bottom drawer of the nightstand next to the bed. She
was now kneeling in front of it. All she needed was the necklace.

She’d fastened it safely around her
neck earlier. It was the most secure way to transport it. There were endless
possibilities to lose it if she were to just carry it around in her hand.
Wearing it seemed like the safest scenario.

Reaching behind her neck, she went
to unclasp the necklace when a voice asked, “Find anything you like?”

Nixie gave a squeal and jumped in
terror. She banged her knee painfully against the nightstand in her frantic
attempt to turn toward the owner of the voice. When she was finally able to
face the door, she found Nicholas Morgan leaning against the doorframe, arms
crossed over his chest with one eyebrow arched questioningly.

Nixie sucked in a deep breath of
relief. It wasn’t the police. Thank heavens. “You scared the crap out of me,”
she hissed. “You should make more noise when you creep up on people like that!”
She frowned, realizing how contradictory that statement was.

“I’m sorry,” Nick said smoothly. “I
forgot that I’m to warn the burglar of my presence. How thoughtless of me.”

“Burglar!” Nixie cried indignantly.

“Besides,” Nick added, “you were
making enough noise for the both of us.”

Nixie felt a blush creep up her
cheeks and quickly forgot about the burglar comment. Had she really been that
loud? “Well,” she sputtered, trying to make up for her lack of stealth. “You
weren’t supposed to be here,” she accused.

“
I’m
not supposed to be
here?!” Nick cried in disbelief. “Excuse me, Nixie, but I live here. You’re the
one breaking and entering.”

“How do you know my name?” she asked
with a gasp.

Nick’s lip quivered in amusement
and he pointed to her chest. “You’re still wearing your nametag.”

Nixie looked down at her nametag in
utter mortification. She’d worn her nametag to a crime. Only she would break
and enter with her name emblazoned across her chest. “Like I said,” she mumbled
meekly, “you weren’t supposed to be here. You had that charity dinner thing.”

“You mean the one that was last
night?”

Damn it. She really needed to pay
more attention to details.

“Please turn and put your hands on
the nightstand,” Nick requested.

Nixie blinked blankly at him.
“Huh?”

“Turn and put your hands on the
nightstand. I’m going to pat you down. I’ve got to find out what else you’ve
stolen,” he said accusingly, gliding across the room to her side.

“I didn’t steal anything!”

When he reached her, Nick flicked
the necklace that was around her throat. “Then I guess this got here by magic.”

“No…I…”

“Face the nightstand,” Nick
repeated, his voice letting her know there wouldn’t be any compromising with
him. He would be searching her whether she wanted him to or not.

With a sigh, Nixie turned and
placed her hands flat against the nightstand. A moment later, she gave an
indignant yelp as his hands grazed over her hips. She went to move and he
shoved a hand less than gently into the small of her back, forcing her to stay
still. “You are violating me!”

“Not to sound childish, but you
started it.” He stuck his foot between hers and kicked her into a wider stance.
“I’m not letting you leave here until I’m sure you don’t have anything else.”

“Nick, I…”

“I don’t want to hear any stupid
excuses. Please, just be quiet so we can get this over with without having the
cops visit my house.”

Though she was annoyed at the fact
he wouldn’t listen to her, Nixie felt relief flood through her. Being patted
down like a common criminal might be humiliating, but at least he was going to
let her leave. In the end, he’d get his necklace back and she’d get to keep her
job. It was a good outcome for both of them.

Nick’s hands smoothed along her
waist, looking for what she assumed were any unusual bulges. His hands slid
around the front of her short denim skirt, running over the pockets.

Nixie rolled her eyes. “Do you
really plan on finding anything there?”

“I didn’t plan on finding you
rooting through my stuff,” Nick retorted, “so you never know.”

Nixie let out a huff of agitation.
“This is really unnecessary, you know?” She was about to make a sarcastic
comment when his body brushed against the back of hers as he leaned forward to
make sure she didn’t have anything in her hands. She would have tried to stop
it, but the small, sharp intake of breath happened before she could cover it
up.