The Art of Stealing Kisses (Stealing Hearts Book 2) by London Stella

Author:London, Stella [London, Stella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stella London Books
Published: 2015-10-12T07:00:00+00:00

I’m walking on cloud nine on my way back to my flat. I feel like even if I don’t paint a masterpiece anytime soon, today was the first time I put brush to canvas in years, and that is amazing. As I approach my street, I try to think of a way I can show my appreciation to St. Clair. He’s the man who seems to have everything, but I’m sure I can think of some little token to thank him for everything he’s done.

“Hello, Miss Bennett.”

I look up. A man is waiting, leaning against the railing in front of my apartment. I recognize him as Nick Lennox, the Interpol agent who’s been investigating the art thefts back home in the States.

I’m surprised to see him here. “Hi, umm, is everything okay?”

“Just dandy.” Nick looks around. “Nice neighborhood. Not bad for an auction house intern.”

I tense a little at the tone. “Art consultant,” I correct him. I get out my keys. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I hope so.” Nick smiles at me. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

“We are talking.”

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “More privately.”

Instead of inviting him in, I nod to the small park at the end of the block. “After you.”

We walk together in silence, but my mind is racing. Finally, I ask. “Has there been a break in the Carringer’s case? New leads?”

“You could say that.” We reach a small bench, and he gestures for me to sit. “I’m coming to you because I need your help.”

Really? “My help? With what? I already told you everything I know about the Carringer’s heist. I don’t know anything.”

“And if you did? Would you assist the investigation?” Lennox looks at me dead on.

“Of course,” I frown. “I want to see the thief caught.”

“Good answer.” He smiles at me. “I know who stole the painting from Carringer’s, who’s behind all the thefts, and it turns out you’re in a unique position to assist in proving his guilt.”

I’m still confused. “How? And…who?”

“It was St. Clair.” Lennox tells me, not taking his eyes from my face. “He’s the thief.”

I burst out laughing.

Lennox just waits, his eyes still studying me.

He’s serious?

“There’s no way!” I protest. “St. Clair doesn’t need to steal anything. He bought the painting! He could buy anything he wants!”

“I never said he was in it for the money.”

“Then what?” I’m still reeling. This doesn’t add up. St. Clair isn’t a thief, he cares about wrong and right, and on top of all that, he has no motive. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Aren’t I?” Lennox challenges. “You know our friend: St. Clair thrives off risk, adrenaline. He enjoys breaking the rules, and he doesn’t care about the consequences. He’s rich, idle, and has a God complex. I think he fits the profile perfectly. It’s not just the Carringer’s job, there’s a whole string of international robberies over the past few years. The Brussels gold heist last year. The Alberti diamonds in Monaco. Rio de Janeiro – I could go on.

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