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  MINT

  Love of Thieves

  Blue Davis

  Contents

  For Subscribers

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About Blue Davis

  Other Books by Blue Davis:

  Copyright © 2016 by Blue Davis

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  For Subscribers

  Limited Time Only

  Have you downloaded your FREE Russian Mafia Romance book yet? It’s waiting for you over at www.bluedavis.com.

  This book is dedicated to all romance readers. Thank you! You make it all possible.

  Chapter 1

  Lexi

  In four days from now, she could find something that would make her jaw-dropping rich, but there was a catch.

  Things were busy at the Haitian harbor on that Tuesday morning. The heat and stress combination made Lexi’s forehead break into a light sweat. She rubbed her clammy palm against her khaki pants. Dozens of tall, slim locals rushed around, trading food for money, carrying crates of supplies, or chatting in the local language. Honking trucks blended up dust into the port market, creating a thin, smoky haze. Umbrellas covered sweltering fish and vegetables, while street vendors packed the dirty paths, their voices barely audible over hammering Creole music. The vessels sat still in the harbor. Old fishing boats, big trawlers, small ferries.

  Curious eyes watched her. A tall, native man neared.

  Her heart accelerated as anxiety twisted her gut. She swallowed and gripped her bag closer.

  “You want boat?” The man’s arms fluttered through the air, wafting a blend of fuel and fish toward her.

  She squared her shoulders. “Yes. I want a boat.”

  He rubbed his chin. “I have no boat. But you give me $50, I tell you where boat is,” he spluttered.

  Lexi’s jaw stiffened, as she tried to hide any sign of irritation her face may have shown. How annoying. Are you here to help me or to hustle me? A few fishermen lined the harbor up ahead, preparing and cleaning their vessels. She picked up her pace, trying to shake the guy. “Uh, no thanks, I’m fine. Thanks for your help,” she asserted, forcing her lips to smile.

  The man froze and stared at her. After a while, he blended in with the others who stared.

  She lowered her head under a sun hat.

  A group of teenagers yelled in the corner as one of them threw dice in to the dirt. Two of the boys stood up chest to chest, mad-dogging each other. Rage burned in their reddened eyes.

  Her trembling hands straightened her cotton blouse as she stepped foot onto the wooden dock.

  The dock silenced. Two tall men glared at her as she approached. The first had arms folded over his chest. The other looked like a pit bull chewing something. He spat it out and raised his chin.

  Be nice, be polite and be assertive. And above all, don’t mess this up. “Hi,” she said, smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’d like to rent a boat.”

  The tallest one gave her a once-over and sneered. “You?”

  Her eyes narrowed hard onto the lean man. “Yes… me.”

  “And how you gon’ steer?” He looked her dead in the eye. He jutted out his chest and moved his foot to the side while he placed a hand on his hip. With a smug look on his face, he protruded his lips and batted his eyelashes while pretending to grip a steering wheel.

  She tried to stop her eyes from rolling. Yeah, I get it. You’re a woman. How clever.

  The other man hit him on the shoulder and keeled over to his knees in hearty laughter.

  The man stared at her and then burst out into a full-bellied laugh. “I don’t have no boat for no woman,” he bellowed.

  Lexi’s jaw clenched. What difference does it make whether I’m a woman or a man? Shouldn’t he be asking where the boat is going, instead of focusing on gender? Whatever. She marched back up to the main platform and scouted another fisherman polishing the side panel of a trawler. She plodded toward him. “I’m interested in the boat,” she blurted out.

  The man continued to smooth his rag along the exterior.

  The market clamor blared in her ear. She leaned in and spoke louder. “How much for a rental?”

  He mumbled something in the native language and turned his back to her. He stepped onto the deck and polished a metal rail.

  Her blood heated to a simmer as every muscle in her body tensed. Is he seriously ignoring me? The old man pissed her off. Beads of sweat formed above her upper lip. Let me make myself clear. “I’ll pay you. I have money.”

  The fisherman stuck his nose in the air. “Boat not for sale.”

  “I only need it for a few days,” she informed, feeling her stern eyes collapse into a desperate plea for help.

  He shook his head. “Woman break boat. Boat need to be fixed. Guess who must pay to fix boat?” His eyes beat on her ferociously. “I pay to fix boat,” he proclaimed, thumbing a finger to his chest and answering his own question.

  Her breath stopped short. I’ve got to convince him. If he didn’t budge, she would have to call Carl and tell him the news of how she was utterly incapable of doing her part of the job in Haiti. No way. I’m not calling that jackass. I’m getting a boat if it kills me. She drew air into her heated nostrils. “I’m not gonna wreck it. I’m going out to Strife Island. It’s not far from here. You can take me.”

  The man narrowed his rigid, shady eyes on her. His eyebrows knitted as he stepped away and ran his rag along the panel again.

  No. Failure is not an option. “Please,” she pleaded.

  He swiped a dismissive hand at her and shook his head.

  Her throat constricted as she turned around to climb the steps.

  The captain at the next boat suddenly busied himself by rushing to the other side of the boat.

  The other boat captains looked equally occupied, tending to their boat cleaning, carrying boxes and tools around, or generally standing facing the other direction.

  Her shoulders sunk as she ambled to the dock. Her mind scrambled. Now what? Carl? I can’t call him. Why can’t these assholes help me for once instead of making things impossible for me? A dull pain dug its way into the base of her neck.

  She rolled her eyes as she considered the alternatives. She despised having to dial his number. In a utopia, she would be an independent woman, free of all jerks. Especially ones named Carl Devereux. If only I had an all-woman team. We’d look for the treasure, transport it, and then sell it. Done. No greedy man-pigs intercepting the deal halfway there. But it was a man’s world.

  She certainly didn’t need a man for the usual basics like sex. She had that covered by using a vibrator to keep her hormones at sustainable defcon level three. And frankly, she didn’t understand all the hoopla. Sex was the most overrated activity on the planet. Hell, her skilled dildo-maneuvering spoke volumes compared to Carl’s feeble attempts to use his own dick. No thank you. Cocks came with baggage.

  Unfo
rtunately, she hadn’t yet found a way to dispose of men for other things--like her heists, for instance. Her perilous, death-defying, one-woman heists. It was one-woman because she did all the work. Then after she was victorious, a free-loader such as Carl would settle into his comfortable armchair and make a few calls to buyers on the black market.

  Her eyes closed while she shook her head. She thumbed through her phone and called the jackass. Her vision dimmed as she looked at the boats in the harbor.

  His alto voice answered. He didn’t say hello, in a typical Carl way. He propelled himself above simple decencies like that. “Got the coins?” He knew it was her and answered with an eager voice.

  Carl was a busy man, and she didn’t expect him to know her schedule. He moved product for hunters and jewel thieves all over the world.

  Her cheeks scrunched upward as she considered how to tell him how difficult it was to secure anything at the harbor. “Not quite. I don’t even have a boat to get out there.”

  “What? I’m all ready to move those coins, baby. Just bring them to daddy,” he purred. He was good at his job too, unfortunately. That meant that he was invaluable. Truth be told, she didn’t know how to sell anything on the black market herself. It was Carl that had brought her in to the treasure hunting business years ago. She needed him and she hated that. He sold gold with his little pinky. But today, he was too eager. And his mood was too good. And besides that, she could nearly feel his grubby fingers riding up her blouse while only on the phone with the scoundrel.

  She curled her upper lip. “I will. I just need to get the boat. It’s harder than I thought.”

  “I’m harder than you thought,” he murmured under his breath.

  Nausea rose to her stomach as she held the phone at a distance. She placed Carl back on her ear. “What?” You asshat. She left the “asshat” part off and dared him to repeat what he had just said.

  Silence stretched the air between them. “Oh, nothing.”

  She pulled in one deep breath of air. You listen to me real good, jerk-off. “Carl. You and I have a strict business relationship.” Her shoulder muscles straightened into a firm stance. “Whatever happened between you and me is now in the past.”

  Carl snickered and sucked air through his front teeth. “Tsss. You weren’t saying that when I was giving it to you raw the other day. You wasn’t saying anything at all. You was just moanin’ and moanin’. You took me in real good.”

  “The other day? That was four years ago, Carl. We’re done now. Please don’t make me find someone else to work with.” She threatened as if she already had someone to work with. There was no one else. Or was there? Her thoughts leaped to an alternative.

  James.

  Her body heated into a heightened arousal. Her thighs closed together as she tried to shake the image of hot, hard James. She wasn’t going to call him and be desperate. She needed a boat, not a scorching hot man-stud.

  Carl cleared his throat. “I’m just messin’ with ya. Now, how about this? I need to finish a few things up here in N’awlins, and then I’ll grab my boys and come meet you there? We’ll get the gold, bring it back, sell it hot and have ourselves a nice bottle of Champaign in those nice glasses from my china cabinet. Whatcha’ think about that now?”

  She tightened her lips. Oh hell no, you’re not coming down here. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? Ain’t nobody else volunteering to help your ass out. Isn’t it dangerous down there?”

  “Yes.” She kept her replies brief. The phone convo had gone on far too long.

  He paused. “Then why don’t you let me come down there and straighten things out for you?”

  She closed her eyes. He sounded like a needy child. “No. I wanted to see if you had any contacts in Port-au-Prince. That’s all.”

  Carl’s voice hollowed. “I don’t know a single soul in Haiti.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, I gotta go. I need to find someone that can get me a boat.” She itched to settle her mind back on…James. Carl was standing in the way of her grasping a nagging arousal. Heat rose from her upper thighs and centered in her core. She shut her eyes and covered the quiet whimper that escaped her mouth.

  Carl’s whine interrupted. “Wait. Let me come help you… I’m beggin’ you, baby girl. Come on now. Don’t do me like this.”

  James’ satisfying image hot-ballooned away, and she was left with the drowning reality of Carl the Clown at her ear.

  Carl’s slimy-gelled dark hair and tanned skin popped into her mind. His light brown eyes had once made her blush. She had gotten tipsy one night on New Year’s and let things get way past her control. Lost her virginity to the man and he ended up asking her to marry him. She said no, but instead moved in with him and gave him a five-year raincheck on the wedding.

  Okay, so it wasn’t entirely well-planned out. Whatever. Later, a disastrous event cut the five-year term short.

  How could he still be trying four years later? He was laughable.

  She chuckled. And come help me? Please. His money-hungry hands are only receiving the amount I allow him to have.

  “I’ll be in touch when I get back up,” she clicked off the phone. You stay the fuck back in New Orleans. I’m not that desperate.

  A little girl stood below, stretching her hands out. Her large, sunken eyes matched cheeks that caved into her mouth. Her eyes softened as she stared at Lexi.

  Lexi broke into an immediate smile.

  She smiled back and watched her through big, brown eyes.

  “Hi there,” Lexi beamed, bending to meet the corn-rowed girl at eye level. “Your hair’s super cute. I want to get myself some braids like that. Think it’ll look good?” She tugged on her long black mane.

  The girl smiled, closed her eyes, and nodded.

  An aha moment flashed through Lexi’s mind. She reached in her pocket, brought out four Haitian coins, and held them in front of the girl’s bright eyes. “You want?”

  The little girl bobbed her head, her eyes twinkling.

  “Okay,” she said. “All you have to do is tell me who rents the boats.”

  The girl shrugged and frowned.

  “Okay. Uhh, where’s your mother? I’d like to ask her something.”

  She shook her head.

  Lexi lowered her shoulders and looked at the sweet girl again. She stammered. “Uh… Mother?” She stood up and place an index finger on her cheek. “Mère?”

  The girl raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth. She pointed at a man standing behind a food stand, then ran and hid behind his leg.

  The man faced toward her with his eyes closed, and a warm expression on his face. “Manman,” he offered. “In our language, it’s manman.”

  Lexi delivered an immediate apology and cursed herself for not having learned a few basic words of the language. “I’m sorry. I was asking for her mother.”

  The man nodded. “She died of childbirth when the girl was born.” The man opened his eyelids, to show white eyes with pupils of colorless gray. “She used to run this food stand. I followed along after her.”

  The man was blind. Cook and serve fried plantains while blind? Amazing. He stirred the food around in hot oil.

  A sudden sorrow washed over her. He missed his wife. His pained expression told everything. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be. She be back. Another time. Another place.” His quick smile revealed a missing tooth.

  The aroma of plantains wafted to her nose. It smelled darn good, and it was already afternoon. She cleared her throat and extended a single finger into the air. “Smells incredible. One please,” she chirped, inhaling the scent of the local fare.

  The man scooped up a few of the plantains and put them on a paper tray.

  Lexi lifted her chin. “I was wondering, sir, if you knew who rents boats around here.”

  “It’s no good, dear.”

  She held her breath. “What do you mean?”

  He put his tongs on the counter and stood still. “Nobody gon�
� to rent to woman. You a very nice woman, but nobody gon’ rent to ya. I’d help, but I can’t see nothing. Most I can do is tell you that you ain’t never gon’ get no boat without no man here.”

  “I see.” she grumbled, half-turning. Her chest plundered. “Well, thanks for your advice.”

  He asked for a meager sum of money for the national plantain dish.

  She fished into her wallet and came out with three or four times the amount. She handed it to him, then knelt down to the little girl.

  The cute girl came out from hiding behind her father’s leg and peered at her with big, rounded eyes.

  Lexi held the coins out at an arm’s length. “Here you go.”

  The girl uncurled her hand and yielded to a toothy grin.

  “You earned it,” Lexi remarked, smiling at her sweet expression. The girl and her father were adorable. Lexi was no millionaire--yet--but she hoped the extra money could go towards something satisfying for the two of them. Besides, she could afford to donate money now, because she’d be a rich woman by Friday.

  The man flipped through the paper bills, feeling their texture and size. “I may be blind, but I can still see this is way too much money, girl of God.” He handed a few of the currency notes back to her.

  She wanted him to have the money for a rainy day. She didn’t take it, but instead browsed for an opening in the crowd. “Thanks for the help,” she said, stepping away.

  He nodded and held his hand up as if to flag her down before she hurried away. He faced toward her, his magical aura filling the space between them. If he had eyes, they would have penetrated her soul.

  She stood still. “Yes?”

  His gray eyes pinpointed her face. “You don’t have to go it alone.”

  She licked her lips and swallowed. Her vision of him blurred through tears, so she drew in a breath and shook it off. Whatever. He meant well, but he didn’t even know her. And she was fine ‘going it’ alone. She was better than fine. She was damn happy. “Okay,” she muttered. It was all she could manage.