Treasure Me (Alpha Four, Book 1)

By Mia Dymond

Reputable fine art broker Sophie Graystone has a knack for acquiring one-of-a-kind artifacts. A seasoned professional, she marches to the beat of her own drum and takes direction from no one.

Lt. Dagan “Rebel” Caldwell, ex-Army Ranger and investigator for Alpha Four, is driven by an iron will to succeed and is talented in the ability to convince others to conform. He soon learns that he has met his match in one certain female.

Assigned to investigate several attempted thefts of Sophie’s paintings, Rebel’s skill and talent are sorely tested when Sophie challenges him at every turn, aggravating and arousing him in the process. Desperate to get his man, Rebel uses her rebellion as a secret weapon, hoping to win her heart in the process.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mia Dymond
• Release date: Jan 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310485503

Mia Dymond

I write contemporary romance novels with sexy, alpha males and females with attitude to boot. I live in a zoo,hold down a full time job, and am trying to coax my creative muse from her cage. So BEWARE, the madness may rub off on you!

Book preview

Treasure Me

Alpha Four, Book 1

By

Mia Dymond

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Mia Dymond

Published on Smashwords

Cover photo: Daniel Sroga|Dreamstime.com

Cover by Dara England

* * *

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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CHAPTER ONE

Take that, sucker!

Sophie Graystone issued the silent jab as she raised her auction paddle, winked at the auctioneer, and desperately tried to maintain her composure. Five hundred thousand dollars was a chunk of change – even for a Henri DuBois painting. Yet, Mrs. Vanderbuilt didn’t take no for an answer and when she wanted something, she didn’t blink an eyelash at the cost – all the more reason for Sophie to win the bid.

Sitting with one leg crossed over the other, she drew tiny circles in the air with the toe of her shoe while she glanced around the room. The most elite auction venue in Everglade Springs, Florida, Parisian Designs earned every star of their status. The interior alone resembled the finery of a five-star hotel with its white, pristine marble floors and bright, diamond-embellished chandeliers. The room hosting the auction this afternoon sat adjacent to the main lobby and welcomed bidders with its plush, navy blue carpet. Sculpted from marble, busts of artistic greats Claude Monet, August Renoir and Vincent van Gough rested on carved, oak podiums scattered around the room. Even under glass, each artist peered from inside with a look of perfection. Elegant paintings by renowned illustrators Michelangelo, Rembrandt, Da Vinci, and Picasso covered the walls, a solitary lamp mounted just above the frame to accent the beauty of the work. The whole room screamed refinement right down to the comfortable wingback chairs provided to each bidder.

She turned her attention back to the action while she waited on pins and needles, straining to hear if someone would make another bid while the auctioneer rattled numbers over his tongue. Anxiety knotted the nerves in the back of her neck and she fought the urge to turn and look behind her to see if she could match a face to the voice who had earlier run the cost up to this ridiculous amount. Demand for Henri Dubois paintings was high and winning a bid could be brutal. She took a deep breath and braced herself for whatever happened next.

And then the auctioneer paused.

Going once. She pursed her lips.

Going twice. Slowly, she let the air seep out of her lips.

Sold to bidder number thirty two!

When the thud of the gavel vibrated her eardrums, Sophie forced the remaining air from her lips and smiled. Mrs. Vanderbuilt wouldn’t be disappointed.

Tension began to leak from her muscles as she relaxed back against her chair, relieved that she’d been able to acquire the Henri DuBois painting. The new and upcoming artist had taken the art world by storm during the last few months with his colorful masterpieces of contemporary abstract art. His use of bold and bright colors and abstract shapes seemed to strike a chord with his buyers and rocket him into popularity overnight. The painting being auctioned today was one of her personal favorites.

Titled Angry, the vivid shades of orange, yellow and red dominated the canvas, the strokes thick, tall and intimidating. Although the naked eye could not immediately determine a clear-cut explanation of the picture, art collectors seemed to appreciate the opportunity to draw their own conclusions. Her own mind chose to interpret the painting as a blazing fire, the flames hungry as they devoured the canvas.

Today’s piece had been extremely difficult to track down and it was only her stellar reputation that afforded her an auction paddle. One of the artist’s first paintings, it had just recently become part of an estate and the heirs were more interested in the monetary worth than in the artistic value.

Sophie stood and made her way to the security booth where she would pay for the painting and then take possession. Her accomplishment made her smile. She had worked hard to make her art studio, Treasure Me, a reputable business – one that made obtaining an almost impossible artifact, possible.

Congratulations, Miss Graystone.

She smiled and handed her paddle to the auction coordinator. Thanks, Carl. Mrs. Vanderbuilt had her eye on this one.

Ellen has a beautiful collection.

She does, Sophie agreed as he handed her several pieces of paper.

Did you know she attended Oxford University with Jacque DuBois, Henri’s grandfather?

I had no idea!

Carl pressed a button below the counter just before she heard the buzz that signaled that the door to the Acquisitions Room had been unlocked.

Ask her sometime, he said as he opened the gate to allow her entry. I’m sure she’d be glad to elaborate.

I will. Thanks, Carl.

Sophie entered the Acquisitions Room and handed her paperwork to the guard. As soon as she held the cherished painting, she headed to the rear door, specifically placed for discreet exits and secured by an additional guard.

Would you like an escort, Miss Graystone?

No thank you, John. I’m parked close.

Sophie stepped out the door and blinked several times in the bright sunlight before walking the short distance to her pearl-white Lexus four-door. She had just shifted the painting to one side to allow herself to reach for the door handle when a shadow moved over the driver’s window.

The hair stood on the back of her neck and oxygen let the air as she felt pressure on the tops of her shoulders.

Don’t move and you won’t get hurt.

In the next moment of extreme panic, she concluded the low-pitched voice was male and that the man with his hands on her shoulders had a strong grip – one that she knew she most likely would not be able to escape. She stood deathly still, buying time to analyze his motive. Although he hadn’t yet voiced his intention, she was pretty sure he wanted the painting and she was bound and determined not to give it to him. She clenched the painting closer to her body and came to a quick decision. If her conclusion was correct that he was male, she might possibly have the upper hand.

Adrenaline bubbled in her veins and gave her superhuman strength as Sophie inhaled a deep breath and then sprang into action. She balled her right fist and flung her arm backwards, satisfied when it connected with flesh.

Bitch! her attacker spat.

Pressure left her shoulders and blood rushed to the previously-squeezed area. Bitch? Who attacked whom?

She bit her bottom lip, determined to show him the mistake of attacking her. She swung the same fist that she used to get his attention seconds ago, this time downward and in direct contact with a particular muscle between his legs. And, there was no mistake that she made exact contact when he issued an extremely vulgar string of expletives. Convinced he was incapacitated, she turned to face him.

Obviously in pain, he had already turned his back to her and, all things considered, made a rather hasty retreat. She quickly climbed into the driver’s seat and pressed the button to lock the doors. Her heart pounded like jungle drums as she grabbed her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the number that would summon help.

***

Shielded by dim light in the sports bar’s interior, Lt. Dagan Rebel Caldwell sat with the rest of his team around a corner table and tossed back a swallow of beer while he glanced around the room. Feisty’s, their usual stomping ground was crowded, just like any other night. Several big screen televisions hung over the long, oak bar in the center, broadcasting a variety of sporting events. Waitresses clad in short shorts and tight tops that left little to the imagination served alcohol to big tippers. He smirked. Only his captain would bring them here to discuss business.

I got a phone call from Senator Graystone about an hour ago. Cpt. Beck Thunder Raines glanced at each of the men around the table as he thumped his beer bottle. Seems his daughter needs our help.

A damsel in distress? Sgt. Jace Chaos Taylor raised an eyebrow. I’m in.

Of course you are. Rebel shook his head, not surprised by his teammate’s quick agreement. The man had a true appreciation for all things female