Romancing The Heist: The Museum: Romancing The Heist, #1

By Belle Knight

To save his younger brother's life, Heald must break into a high security museum and steal millions of dollars worth of illegally poached rhino horns. It's supposed to be a straightforward job, until he meets a museum volunteer who worked past closing time—Laura Mannings.

To follow her secret dreams of being something more than a classroom teacher, Laura spends her free time helping the museum identify important artifacts—and accidentally uncovers an international wildlife smuggling ring.

Sparks fly in this hot and steamy romantic suspense story, but can this sexy duo survive the truth…and the hitmen hired to make sure no witnesses survive the heist?

This is a standalone romance with no cheating and no cliffhangers, but with plenty of steam and a HFN. I've also included an exclusive 3 chapter look of the next book in the Romancing The Heist series, which you won't find for free anywhere else!
 

ROMANCING THE HEIST
--The Museum Heist
--The Cave Heist
--The Ranch Heist

• Language: English
• Publisher: Belle Knight
• Release date: Dec 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393192787

Book preview

Chapter 1

Laura stared at the class of ten-year-olds who were all trying NOT to stare back at her. Their faced shined with expectation and held a special sort of tension that only the last few minutes of the day could create.

The clock on the wall had been covered in paper decorations for the last week of school, but somehow, they could still sense exactly two minutes before it was time for the bell to ring—that quiet reach for papers, the sideways shuffle to backpacks, the silent exchange of looks from across the room.

Is it time? Did she forget it’s almost time? Will she ever let us out? Are we doomed to stay in school for the rest of our lives?

Laura bit back a grin. Ten year olds were hilarious and fun. In spite of the excitement over their ham radio project that day, they were eager for the day to be over.

Pack it up! Laura said.

Thank you, Ms. Mannings! Several of the students replied as the room exploded into a frenzy of noise and activity. Shuffling shoes, eager voices, the scramble to push the math tiles into the bins, pick up trash, push in chairs.

At the start of each year, when she introduced herself to the anxious new class, at least one brave soul would always ask about the Ms part of her name. It was the 21st century, but somehow the kids still got it in their heads that a woman should either be a Miss or a Mrs—and she was neither.

She had been married for a few years in her mid-twenties. The guy she had dated in college became the guy she had married after college.

Then he became the guy who had cheated on her with his secretary at work.

It was so cliché a story she couldn’t bear admitting it to any of her coworkers from her last school. So she had moved cities for this teaching job a year ago. As soon as her divorce was final, she changed back to her maiden name and added the Ms.

Whenever any adult asked about her status she would explain she had been married once but it didn’t work out. Whenever any of her students asked she explained something about how it didn’t matter if she was married or had ever been married or not, she was their teacher. Since the male teachers didn’t proclaim their marital status every time someone shared their name, she didn’t see why she should either. And she really meant it too.

She would never change who she was for a man again.

Her best friend, with a husband and three kids of her own, lamented that this was why she was still single.

The guts of a ham radio were spread across three entire desks, so she helped Benny and Carlos clean it up to get them out of class on time. The class was learning about the electromagnetic spectrum and along the way she had thrown in lessons about engineering, mechanics, gotten them amateur radio licenses, and shown them the fun of call signs and talking to people halfway across the world.

She made sure Samantha didn’t forget her jacket again and moved to stand by the door just as the bell rang. If she didn’t watch over them, they’d try to bounce out of the room like an overeager litter of puppies.

In a matter of seconds, the room had emptied, deathly quiet after the mass exit.

It was both her favorite and least favorite part of the day. The room smelled like paste and carpet and like thirty bodies had spent most of the day inside of it. The silence was beautiful after a long day of frenzied activity, but a classroom didn’t feel right without a bunch of students.

That’s why she volunteered at the museum in the afternoons, because her apartment was just as lonely as this classroom, and she couldn’t change any of it.

Ms. Mannings. A little girl with a ponytail that stretched halfway down her back stood a few feet away.

Turning, Laura said, Oh, hi Kaitlyn. She was a quiet girl among an entire classroom of students, but would often chatter up a storm one on one like this.

So much for peace and quiet. But Laura really did like Kaitlyn. She was a sweet girl interested in pretty much anything related to electronics.

Did you see how I got the radio to work? It was so cool.

Laura glanced at the clock. Right. She shook her head slightly, forgetting she had covered the clock in bunnies, pastel streamers, and colored paper eggs for spring.

Just like the kids. Eager to go home.

Her stomach clenched a little bit.

Home to what?

Her parents had both died from different kinds of cancer while she had still been married. She had no siblings, no pets. She was thirty years old now, had been teaching for over five years, but her life had exploded because of the divorce. She had moved to get away from everything and start over.

My mom said you’re really pretty and it’s a shame you don’t have any kids of your own.

Kaitlyn’s words punched Laura in the gut. She tried to keep her reaction from showing on her face. Kaitlyn didn’t know any better. She said things with an earnest honesty that Laura could usually take in stride.

Laura moved around the room to finish the final clean up tasks of the day. She took a deep breath and forced her voice into a neutral, emotionless tone. It wasn’t hard. Kaitlyn didn’t mean to hurt her and her mother probably had never intended for her daughter to share that comment with her teacher. Oh, well, thank your mother for me.

She gathered the legos used for student engineering projects and began tossing them into their appropriate bins. She liked to test her aim, just for kicks, and could make the shot with an over hand toss of a lego the full length of the classroom almost with her eyes closed.

Laura was good at her job. Being good at her job meant she knew how to control herself and her reactions no matter what the kids might try each day. Don’t feel bad for me. I have all of you each day to hang out with. I’ve got a lot of kids!

But they’re not YOUR kids.

Laura’s hands paused briefly, done now with the legos. She forced herself to move on, putting away a receiver, it’s coiled cord so foreign to the students who had iPhones, wireless-everything, bluetooth-everything-else, that the coiled cord had seemed fantastical and almost other-worldly, and something everyone was eager to touch.

You’re too controlled. I swear you can’t be real about anything anymore.You talk to me like one of your students. I’ve had enough.

Her ex-husband’s words from when he had blamed HIS affair on her. A flicker of anger rose inside her, but she did not allow it to show. Instead, she continued putting away bins, pushing in chairs, and chatting with Kaitlyn to distract herself from reliving that awful, life-shattering conversation.

Like a switch, she had known their whole relationship was over, had been over for a long time, but she hadn’t seen it until that moment.

He WAS like a student, worse than a student, if he was going to blame her for his own choices. She had told him that in her best, most steady teacher voice too, because it was the only protection she had left and she couldn’t bear to let him see how he had shattered her—or how, deep down, she feared he was right about her.

Kaitlyn, honey. I’ve got to head over to the museum now. Laura made a show of grabbing a bunch of glue sticks and stuffing them into her skirt pockets to return to the appropriate bin on the way out. Make sure you grab all your stuff and I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?

Okay, Ms. Mannings. See you tomorrow! Kaitlyn skipped out of the classroom, completely unaware of the impact of her few simple sentences.

When the door closed behind her and the classroom was truly, completely, empty, all the life drained out of Laura.

She pulled one of the student chairs out and slumped into it, fighting back tears. Her energy level always plummeted after a school day of keeping herself going, going, going. She told herself she was extra tired today, that was all.

Plus, she had been spending a lot of time volunteering at the museum these last few weeks. Her side hobby, to the horror and glee of her students, was in cataloging museum specimens. Laura had been assigned a project by the museum that used her skills to the fullest: steady, emotional control, and her