1.
Niklaus Mikaelson presses her body against the wall. Blocks her in with his left arm positioned right next to her head and trails a finger down the side of her neck with his right hand, over her clavicle, down until it rest at the v of her dress, resting comfortably between her breast. Blue eyes capture hers and his smirk is so cheeky. "You are impressive."
She smacks his hand away roughly. "Don't get familiar."
He only smiles and he presses in closer, sliding the fingers she just discarded up her leg. A slow, soft drag of his fingertips scorching a path up her bare skin, exposed by the daring slit in her dress. She wishes then, that she had control over the gooseflesh and the subsequent smug smile on his face. He gets cocky, replaces his fingertips with the warm palm of his hand, dragging it up the rest of the way, when he reaches where the split ends, a few inches below her hip his hand makes the fabric of her red silk dress bunch at her hip. He stops when his hand meets black lace.
"Are you looking for something?" She asks him, dark eyebrow arching to meet her bang. The grin he gives her is full of sin. Bonnie Bennett had a long list of skills she was proud of. She was meticulous with her planning. She took her time when planning for a job. Conducted hours upon hours of research, studied her mark harder than the classes she dropped our of at Whitmore college. Then she poured over her research-learned blueprints and habits like the back of her hand. In the months leading to this very moment she had thought Niklaus Mikaelson too cocky a man to think anything of her. She had slid into his camp as one of the many women enamored with him and his money. She hadn't anticipated that the flirting and soft touches would result in anything other than a flitting interest in her. She blames herself for not thinking highly enough of herself in that regard. She had mistakenly pegged Niklaus as too proud in himself and the fear he evoked to think that anyone would dare to try to do anything-let alone steal from him. And in that, she thought that meant he and his team would be lax.
She was usually quick on her feet. But it seems that Niklaus Mikaelson was an enigma, a blind spot on her radar which could definitely explain why he was currently pressing her into the wall beside his safe, propositioning her instead of dragging her by her scalp or ordering his beefy men to skin her alive.
The precious jewels she had managed to wrap her manicured fingers around, the rich heavy chain with the two wolf heads chomping down on a jewel encrusted ring in the center-some priceless heirloom with deep rooted nordic history that she cared nothing about but her employer had desperately wanted-no needed and had been willing to pay her handsomely to retrieve, rest on the desk where he had placed them when he'd caught her red handed. She wondered if he would kill her. Maybe after he ravished her? Though she doubted most of the intel she had spent her time gathering, she knew without a doubt that those two things were still very possible. She knew well enough that she had walked directly into the wolves den.
But she had never planned for getting caught. Had never had to and it had obviously been to her detriment.
"You play a fools game and for the wrong side." His statement causes her to tense. The hand waiting at her hip forgotten but then his fingers twist into the fabric of her panties and he pulls them tight against her skin. She imagines he is capable, in one fell swoop, of stripping her of them. Before he cane make another move, she presses the edge of her blade into the skin beneath his jaw and smiles.
Maybe she shouldn't berate herself just yet. She can still be quick when she needs to be.
"Mind your hands, Mr. Mikaelson." He drops his hands from her body, lifting them with his palms toward her in surrender. She presses the knife hard enough he can feel it but not hard enough to break the skin, forcing him back until the back of his leg hit the edge of his desk.
"Me?" He asks incredulous. "You tried to steal from me, love." She can tell from the dashing smile on his lips that he isn't really afraid she'll hurt him. That if anything he is thoroughly amused by this display. He wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her forward. She tries and fails to jerk away when his hold becomes tight enough she fears it might bruise. She winces trying again to snatch her wrist away when he finally releases it. She worries suddenly of all the things he can do to hurt her. Her mind immediately flies into survival mode.
"I'll tell you who hired me."
"Now, where's the honor in that, love?"
"There's no honor among thieves." She repeats the old adage. "I can give you a name if you let me leave here."
"Look at you. Bargaining." He says on a chuckle. "I don't want a name. I know the Salvatore's hired you." She stares back at him. Fear sinks down deep within her. This job might just be her undoing. The very end of her. The silence between them mounts and she finally clears her throat to ask:
"Then what do you want?"
"To hire you, of course."
And well. Of all the things she could have anticipated. That certainly was not it.