TAKE THE SUB AND RUN

ONE

ANDREI WATCHED as the woman in white skittered behind a back drape. With a sigh, he set his glass down and followed her, weaving through the elegantly dressed gala attendees. He needed to get her before museum security did.

Her name was Sofie, and apparently she was an accomplice to the infamous cat burglar Colette Beaumont. According to Andrei's former Interpol colleague Landon Malik, Colette was going to steal a nearly-priceless rare pearl necklace that was on display at this gala, and for one night only.

The pipe and drape sectioned off the gala area from the hallway that led into other parts of the museum. And hid the silver catering carts that were pushed up against the hall.

She stood in the shadows, seeming to glow like an angel. He paused, struck by the image, though he knew it was just a trick of what little light there was bouncing off the fabric of her gown and pale gold, almost white, wig she wore.

Andrei studied where she'd stopped, and smirked. There was a convenient doorway recess just to her right.

With quick, light steps, Andrei came up behind her as she peered at her phone screen. She stiffened a mere second before he grabbed her, the woman's danger-sensing hind-brain instinct clearly not working. If it had been, she would have felt him coming and run.

Andrei spun her around, and forced her back into the recess, all in one move. Her phone fell with a clatter as her back hit the door, her eyes wide behind the white carnival mask. He pressed her wrists to the door beside her head.

Their gazes met and something lurched inside him.

"Hello, Sofie."

"I… How do you…? Who are you?" She couldn't seem to settle on which question to ask.

How did he know her name? Because Landon told him the name of Colette's accomplice, and it had been rather easy to spot the woman muttering to herself. The odd behavior was explainable if you assumed she had an earpiece in to communicate with her accomplice, the same way Andrei could communicate with Landon. Except Andrei had turned his earpiece down so Landon's conversation with his runaway lover wouldn't distract him.

Sofie hadn't been hard to pinpoint, and now she looked so deliciously flustered he couldn't help playing with her.

"Are you a bad girl who was planning on stealing something?"

He'd meant it as a taunt, and expected her to respond with outrage or a verbal jab of her own.

But Sofie made a soft, needy noise, her gaze first going wide, then dropping.

Ah. Interesting.

Maybe all high-end thieves were secretly subs. Colette certainly was, though she'd hidden her submissive needs well in the beginning.

Thievery, any crime really, was a high stress job, and BDSM was a good outlet for stress relief. Many of the Doms he knew, including himself, were secretly video game nerds, so sure, why wouldn't most cat burglars be subs.

"I asked you a question." He sunk some warning into his tone.

"If I was, it would be foolish to tell you." Her accent said she was Dutch, and the pragmatic, quintessentially Dutch statement confirmed it.

She wasn't wrong. It would be foolish, because despite the fact that he was out of his jurisdiction, he technically had a duty to report any crime he had direct knowledge of.

Then again, there were some things Interpol just didn't need to know.

"True. But when I ask a question, I expect you to answer." He slid her wrists over her head, holding them with one hand so he could pinch her chin with the other. He forced her face up with a quick jerk, wanting to shock her.

Her soft lips parted on a gasp, and he could see the tip of her pink tongue.

He nearly drowned in a flash flood of need. The need to possess her, to dominate her until she revealed every secret and shadowed corner of her soul.

"And if I don't?" Again her words weren't a taunt, instead bluntly delivered.

"Then I'll take you someplace and…convince you…to answer."

"Like with a spanking?" she whispered.

God, he loved subs.

"Among other things." He released her chin to circle her delicate neck with his hand.

"But how would you get me there? I'll scream."

"Is that a challenge, angel?" The endearment slipped out, that image of her seeming to glow imprinted on his brain.

"It's a statement. I will scream and tell them you're kidnapping me."

"All right then. Let's see."

Andrei hauled her away from the door, bent, and planted his shoulder in her midsection. He stood, one arm wrapped over the back of her knees. She made a little yelping sound, but he'd knocked the air out of her with that move, and it wasn't loud enough to draw attention over the low hum of conversation and string-instruments coming from the gala on the other side of the curtain. Small hands dug into his back as she braced herself.

Andrei strode not back through the gala—too much attention—but down the hall towards the exit onto the gardens. Rijks Museum was large, but he'd committed the layout to memory in preparation for tonight.

"Sir," a security guard said as he approached the door. "You can't be here."

Sofie sucked in air.

Andrei bounced her on his shoulder, as if adjusting her weight. The air she'd taken in escaped as a whoosh.

"She's a little drunk, and my investors are here. They can't see my wife like this."

"Sir, you have to exit out the front."

"Fine, fine. Can you help me get there without anyone seeing?"

The guard frowned, then brought the mic on his shoulder to his mouth. He spoke Dutch now, rather than the English they had been speaking, so Andrei couldn't follow it, but a second later the guard nodded to him. "You may exit here. There are signs in the garden that will direct you back to the front."

"Thank you so much." Andrei adjusted Sofie again, and this time she grunted. Having his shoulder jammed into her midsection couldn't feel good, but he had no problem causing a sub a little discomfort.

A second later, they were outside, the night cold. Andrei strode toward where he'd parked the rented van. He'd gotten a larger vehicle specifically because he knew there was a possibility Landon would end up hauling a less than fully willing Colette out of the museum.

They hadn't anticipated an accomplice. Sofie was a fun little surprise.

Andrei let her slide off his shoulder when they reached the van. She tried to run, but he wrapped an arm around her middle and hauled her into the back of the van, climbing in with her.

"You're kidnapping me!" She sounded outraged more than scared. And maybe a little excited.

He really fucking loved subs.

"You would prefer I arrest you?"

She froze. "You can do that?"

"Yes." And technically, he could. He'd just have to turn her over to local law enforcement, and then do a mountain of paperwork requesting they transfer custody to Interpol.

Kidnapping was simpler.

"Oh."

Andrei pushed her into a seat, then forced her arms around the back of the chair, cuffing her wrists together.

He turned up the volume on his earpiece, but the crackling static meant he and Landon were too far apart for the devices to work.

"You…handcuffed me!"

"You prefer rope? Maybe leather?" Andrei took his phone from his pocket. He'd missed a text from Landon.

Have Colette. Don't want to wait. Getting a taxi.

Good. That meant he didn't have to wait either. Andrei climbed into the front seat and started the vehicle. "Out of curiosity, what were you going to steal?"

He knew the answer—at least according to Landon—but wanted to see if she'd tell him.

"I shouldn't tell you that."

"Hypothetically, what were you going to steal?"

"Hypothetically?"

"You're not a fan of using that the way Colette is?"

"You know Colette?"

He looked at her in the mirror. "Of course I know Colette."

The fact that they'd almost been too late to save her weeks ago when she'd been taken by the Bratva had exhumed memories Andrei wanted to stay buried.

"A painting," she said.

"Which one."

"A Rembrandt. The Night Watch."

"The wall-sized one so big the people are nearly life-sized?"

"Oh. You know that piece?"

"We were just in the Night Gallery, named after the painting which is prominently displayed."

"Oh."

Andrei turned, heading north out of Amsterdam. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No. I just didn't think you'd pay attention to the art."

"Insulting."

"I didn't mean to insult you. You asked."

"You must really enjoy spankings."

That was met with silence, and in the rearview mirror he could see her throat work as she swallowed.

"I…do."

"Good to know that won't be an effective punishment."

"Are you going to punish me?"

He would never lay hands on a woman without her consent. And if Landon had Colette, they didn't actually need any information from Sofie. Bringing her in was still a good idea—best not to leave accomplices unaccounted for—but Andrei could pop Sofie into a locked room with a cup of tea and a book and then let Landon deal with it.

He could do that.

But teasing her was too much fun.

"Have you been a bad girl?"

"You mean am I a criminal?"

"Are you?"

Her chin notched up. "I've never been arrested."

"You're a thief who's good at her job."

"I'm not a thief."

Oddly, he believed her. "Then what kind of criminal are you?"

She didn't answer, piquing his curiosity.

"Maybe I'll spank you until you tell me." He would never do that, but it was a fun threat. He'd spank her, yes, but not as an interrogation technique for real information. The only kind of interrogation where spanking was appropriate was when he was getting a sub to confess every dirty thing she wanted and craved, but was afraid to admit to.

"Torture isn't an effective interrogation technique."

Andrei laughed. "Are you trying to make me feel bad, angel? Implying a spanking is torture when we both know you'd enjoy it?"

She shifted in her seat and licked her lips. He had to remind himself to focus on the road. He didn't know Amsterdam all that well, and if he missed a turn that would just mean longer before he could get Sofie out of this van.

"Spankings hurt," she said, almost hesitantly.

"Of course they do. Not a masochist, just submissive?"

"What?"

"I'm asking do you like the pain from the spanking, or do you like the spanking because it makes you feel powerless and submissive."

"I…don't know."

Odd that she didn't have an answer. Maybe she was one of those people who didn't analyze their desires, for fear of uncovering something dark and rotten at the root.

Andrei was one of those people. He accepted that he was both dominant and sadistic when it came to sex, and used the framework and rules of BDSM to control those impulses without having to analyze them.

The other option was that she knew, but didn't want to tell him.

"Where are we going?" she asked, leaning forward as much as she could with her arms bound. The bodice of her dress gaped, giving him a lovely view of her breasts in the mirror.

He was going to crash this fucking van if he didn't stop watching her.

"Sit back, angel."

"This isn't?—"

"I said sit back."

She obeyed, back slapping against the seat in her haste to obey. Damn, he liked that. She was an odd mix of defiant and obedient that he'd never encountered before.

"Ask your question again," he prompted, finally turning off the main road.

"Where are we going?"

He wondered what it would sound like if they were properly in a scene, and he could make her tack "Sir" onto the end of each sentence.

First priority was finding out who exactly she was, and it was hands off until then. But Landon might already know everything they needed to about Sofie, thanks to Colette. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait long before they could negotiate a scene, and then he'd strip off her dress and do terrible, delicious things to her.

He turned into the parking lot, a luxury the club in London didn't have.

He waited until he had her uncuffed and had helped her out of the van, before leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Welcome to Club Alibi."