Precious Gems - Sierra Hill Page 0,30

handing it to me as he stands to leave.

“Feel free to call whoever you need to begin making arrangements for your dad.” I grasp the phone between my fingers, but he keeps it secured in his, the action jerking me forward on the balls of my feet, so I fall into his chest. I readjust as he gives me a stern warning.

“Just remember, Gemma. Until you fulfill your end of the bargain, you’re not free to go. Don’t even think about conning me like Mudd did. It would not be in your best interest.”

A sudden anger washes over me, a flood of emotion that wells up and churns in my belly. Perhaps it’s from the news of my father’s death, or the fact that I just did something so intimate with Faron, that his lecture feels like a slap in the face.

In fact, it’s riled me up so much, that I can’t control myself when I shove him in the chest.

“How dare you? How could you even think that after what we just did. After what I just did.”

He lifts an eyebrow, cynicism oozing from his expression and tone.

“Gemma, I don’t confuse sex with business. It’s best you learn that early, too. Just because you can use your mouth to get me off doesn’t mean I’ll trust the words of a thief and a con artist.”

I huff bitterly and brush past him toward the house, my shoulder bumping his with a harsh, satisfying jolt.

There’s a part of me that wants to prove him wrong and make him eat his words, but what good would it do? From the sounds of it, he’ll never trust me.

“I may be a thief, but I am not a liar. And I’ve never broken my promises.”

Chapter 16

The train ride to Paris is relatively quiet, the four of us silently contemplating tonight’s event and the plans that have been made to extract the intended article.

When Faron had returned from his office, he sat down and explained the objective for tonight and how I would be used in order to achieve the desired outcome.

Since I haven’t been able to come through for them with the real diamond, they’re putting my useful skills in thievery to good use for their own purposes.

There are documents, apparently very valuable documents, that they need to acquire linking to some stolen property that man named Casper has in his possession. They were very selective in the information they shared with me, however, seeing as they still don’t trust me.

And honestly, I was still mad at Faron and chose not to ask questions or inquire any further. I would do as I was told and play the part he needed me to play like an obedient little girl. But I wasn’t going to invest myself any more than I had to.

The high-speed train zooms past the landscape that is highlighted only by the light of the moon. Adrenaline spikes through my veins the closer we get to our destination, and maybe some excitement, too.

While Roman and West sit in the First-Class carriage row in front of us, Faron sits next to me in his tux looking very Mad Men-esque. I glance down at my attire, the gold silk dress stylishly draping over my body, hugging my waist, and flowing down to my feet that cover my expensive Italian heels.

“Gemma,” Faron leans over the armrest between us. I breathe in and inhale the scent of his cologne mixing with the whisky he’d been sipping, my hormones shifting into overdrive. “You look divine. Like a golden goddess. I’m honored to have you at my side tonight.”

It’s not an apology, per se, but it sure does give me tingles in all the right places. No one has ever complimented me before. I’ve only been on the receiving end of insults and jabs about my appearance, never looked at as anything but an object.

My big tits made me slutty. My ass sway made me look like a paid prostitute. The bow of my mouth looked like I sucked cock for a living.

Never was there anything positive. So even though they aren’t the words, “I’m sorry,” it’s still enough to fill me with hope. A gratitude that Faron takes notice of me and showers me with appreciation and affection.

“Thank you. You look pretty hot yourself tonight, too.”

His hand rests on the armrest, palm up, extending it to me in a peace offering. I slip my fingers through his, relishing in the warmth and texture of his protective grip.

Winking