Considering I’d known Lily Fowler in my previous life, I figured I might have an in. Though saying I “know” Lily is a slight exaggeration. We went to school together but I’m younger than her; I was a sophomore when she was a junior. It was my final year there, before the last of the money ran out and I had to finish high school in the public school system, much to my mother’s horror and disgust.

We never talked, but back then I had a small crush on Lily. I wanted to get close to her for more reasons than one and we hooked up at a party. She was drunk and we clicked instantly, but that wasn’t hard since I’d been in full hustle mode. We talked, we flirted, and next thing I knew, we were making out in a dark corner at the party.

I would’ve gotten into her panties, too, if she hadn’t passed out in my arms. My crush died a quick death when I realized what a mess she was.

So I plucked the giant diamond earrings from her lobes instead. Earned a fat amount of money for those stones, too.

Not that she ever knew. And if she did, she certainly didn’t say anything. There were no news reports, no gossip sites talking about Lily Fowler’s missing diamonds, no police report filed that I know of.

It was as if the entire matter … never happened. We even spoke a few times after that incident and she acted like she didn’t have a clue what really went down. Confirmation I got away with it.

Wild.

That was the first time I’d stolen anything of real value and the high I got from it, how easy it had been, knowing I could give Mom money to help put toward the overdue bills …

I was hooked.

And I had an in. I’d grown up with the rich kids. Hell, I used to be one of them. A rich kid, a spoiled-rotten only child who got whatever he wanted from his daddy, with time to kill and money to burn. Until everything was taken away from us, bit by bit, dollar by dollar. Until we were left with nothing.

So I had to go out and fend for us by helping Mom, because fuck all if my father stuck around and took care of the one woman who stood by his side through everything. All the scandal. All the heartbreak. All the devastation. She never walked away from him—and she had good reason to do so. Instead, she told him everything was going to be all right, as long as they had each other. Yet he still left her.

Deserted her.

Abandoned us both.

Not having Lily here tonight might have thrown me a little, but I ran with it. That’s what I do. If I let every little hitch hold me back, then I would have stopped long ago. Or I would have ended up in prison.

But nothing keeps me down. I’d come all the way to Cannes to pick up a few items. Came on my friend’s private jet, this asshole I’ve known since we were ten and in private school. I gave him his first joint and that was it. We were bonded for life.

The guy has so much money he probably shits hundred-dollar bills. But I won’t take from him. I have standards. I don’t steal from my friends.

People I don’t know? They’re fair fucking game.

Tonight is open game. The security is loose. The jewels are large and everywhere. The owners of said jewels are careless. More intent on showing off than protecting them, which is fine by me. I’m like a kid in a candy store—I don’t know which way to turn, what to check out next. I want to sample it all, take it all, too, but I need to be discreet. Particular. I need to make the most of this visit and choose the pieces that’ll take us the furthest.

Like the Poppy Necklace curled around Rose Fowler’s beautiful neck. I want it. So does my contact, an old client I haven’t worked for since forever. I’ve been warned off this guy, but the payout is too large to resist. My fingers literally itch to snatch the necklace off Rose’s neck. But how? It’s not a subtle piece and this won’t be easy.

But I love a good challenge. I’ve kept my eye on her from the moment I spotted her at the party. Always staying in the background, calculating every which way I could get the necklace from her.

Then I go and make the biggest mistake of all—becoming heroic and telling that piece of Eurotrash to get his paws off her. I’d been tempted to kick his ass but Rose had stopped me, thank Christ. I don’t know what the hell got into me.

Fine. I know. Seeing the marks on her skin from his slimy fingers pissed me off. I don’t know her, don’t care to know her, but I get all caveman and ready to defend her honor? Makes no sense. She’s pretty, yeah. Sexy as hell in that damn dress, her long, hot-as-fuck legs on blatant display and fueling my imagination.

Which I have no business fueling. I’m here for one purpose—and sex isn’t it.

So I ignored the look we shared when I caught her staring at me from across the room. I broke eye contact first, turning away from her and stepping up to the bar so I could order us two glasses of Champagne. I then made my way across the room, ignoring everyone, not making eye contact. I don’t want a single person to remember me tonight.

Yet here I am approaching Rose once more, drink in hand, extended out toward her so she can take it. Her delicate fingers slide against mine when she accepts the glass and the shock I feel at first contact shoots through me like a bolt of lightning.

White hot and electrifying.

Her eyes widen the slightest bit and her hand trembles as she lifts the glass to her lips, taking a long swallow. “Thank you for the Champagne,” she murmurs.

“You’re welcome.” I tip my head toward her and lift my glass, my gaze scanning the room. I see a woman I recognize as being the young plaything to a wealthy film investor wearing a bracelet lined with some of the biggest diamonds and sapphires I’ve ever seen—and I’ve seen some pretty damn big stones in my time. She’s waving her arm around, the gems catching the light, mesmerizing me.