Twice the Temptation (34 page)

 
“Just leave, Bryce. Otherwise things are going to get ugly.”

 
Shepherd clucked his tongue. “If you tattle on me, darlin’, I’ve a few tales I could tell about you.”

 
“Not without taking yourself down.”

 
“I don’t mean any of our illegal feats, Sammi. I could have a nice little chat with your new fella about some of the windows we steamed up, though.”

 
Fuck. “He’d squash you like a bug.” She took a reluctant step closer. Bryce Shepherd hadn’t lost an ounce of his looks or his charm in the last two years. His job description evidently hadn’t changed, either, and he was on the short list of guys who might actually have a shot at making it through her gauntlet of security. “We parted on good terms, Bryce. Don’t make me regret liking you.”

 
“So you really have switched sides. Pity, that. But don’t expect me to quit a score because you’re guarding it. In fact, it might be fun to dance with you again—though I imagine we’ll keep our clothes on this time.”

 
She wasn’t going to follow along just because he kept trying to make this personal. Well, itwas personal, but not in the way he kept suggesting. “I’m better than you
are,” she said bluntly. “If you come back here again, I’ll nail you. In the bad way, in case you were going to ask.”

 
“Now, Sam, don’t—”

 
“If you want these gems, hit ’em at their next stop. Otherwise, take a pass. I’m not warning you again.”

 
He smiled that charming smile she remembered. Two years ago, he’d given her a great couple of weeks—the best she’d had as a thief. “I’m warned, then. Now you’d best move along, or people will think you’re flirting with me. Unless you are, of course. In which case, I came here in a big white van with plenty of floor space.”

 
Aggressive and sure of himself as he was, that was what had attracted her to him in the first place. It still did, partly. “Goodbye, Bryce,” she said, turning her back and walking away.

 
“Cheers, Sam.”

 
He hadn’t added an “until we meet again” or a “see you soon,” but she heard them anyway. Bryce Shepherd had come by today knowing she would see him. Intending that she would see him. He’d issued his challenge loud and clear, and she’d answered the same way.

 
So now it was just a question of when—and of whether she would tell Rick that her former lover was the black hat who was going to try to rob the exhibit.

 
Richard stood beside Inspector Larson at the fake diamond display. Larson was muttering something about instincts and being underappreciated, but Rick wasn’t paying much attention to that.

 
Instead, he was watching Samantha talking with some bloke a dozen yards away. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he was fairly adept at reading
faces and body language. The fellow was good-looking, four or five years younger than himself. And he was poised forward, smiling, head tilting—interested.

 
As usual, Samantha was more difficult to read. The most he could tell was that she wasn’t relaxed, and that she was standing very close to the man. From the press pass clipped to his pocket and the camera around his neck, he had authorization to be there. And he was the one who’d snapped the photo of Samantha outside.

 
The two of them finally parted company, Samantha walking over to a fairly uncrowded spot and lifting her walkie-talkie, while the fellow moved on to the next display. Richard glanced around. Half the press present seemed to be focused on him rather than the gems.Bloody marvelous . Press tended to know press, but the second he asked anyone for the name of the bloke who’d been talking with Samantha, the headline would be—Jellicoe Takes Secret Lover; Addison Flips Out.

 
That left him only one choice, because he was not going to leave without knowing why he suddenly felt so uneasy. Jealous, obsessed, whatever label he put on it, he’d learned the perils of letting Samantha get so much as a single step out in front of him.

 
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said to Inspector Larson, stepping away, “I need to mingle.”

 
“Oh, of course, my l—Mr. Addison.”

 
The second he emerged from the shadows, cameras and microphones surrounded him. This was getting ridiculous. Taking a breath, he gave his professional smile.

 
“Good morning. If you don’t mind, I would very much prefer that the gems be the stars today. I’m merely a visitor, just as you are.”

 
“But Mr. Addison, are you taking any extra security
precautions, knowing that the public will have access to Rawley Park for the next four weeks?”

 
“Miss Jellicoe has arranged the security; that is her expertise. I defer any questions to her.”

 
“Haven’t you discussed it?”

 
“Are you not speaking?”

 
“We are speaking, and we have discussed it,” he countered, continuing to move along the line of displays, “and I defer any questions regarding security to her. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to see the rest of the exhibit.”

 
“But Rick, the—”

 
“Excuse me,” he repeated, gazing steadily at the reporter who’d begun the question.

 
She backed down. “Of course.”

 
Continuing on his way, he rounded the rubies and caught up to the blonde man at the emeralds. “Gorgeous, aren’t they?” he offered.

 
The fellow didn’t look surprised. “Aye, they are,” he said in a light brogue.

 
Richard stuck out his hand. “Rick Addison.”

 
“Oh, I’m aware of that.”

 
He wasn’t offering any information in return. That seemed distinctly familiar. For a time he hadn’t thought Samantha would ever tell him her last name. “Newspaper or magazine?” he pressed, indicating the camera.

 
“Glasgow Daily. Generally a political rag, but whether they print my photos or not, it was worth the drive just to see all of these beauties.”

 
Richard narrowed his eyes a fraction. He knew bloody well when he was being stonewalled, and he didn’t like it. Of course, there was a small chance that he was wrong, that this bloke was exactly what he claimed to be. “How do you know Samantha?” he
asked. His instincts rarely let him down, and they were practically shouting at the moment.

 
“Ah, Miss Jellicoe. She is lovely, isn’t she?”

 
Silently Richard counted to ten. This was so damned familiar that he might have been talking to Samantha during their first day of acquaintance. The question became, did he play along? Or did he let this bastard know that he’d been found out? “Yes, she is,” he slowly agreed. “Why don’t we step outside, and I’ll give you a chance to take some photos the rest of the press won’t get?”

 
“Are you propositioning me, Mr. Addison? Because I don’t—”

 
“Rick,” Samantha’s sharp voice came, and she wrapped a hand hard around his arm. “May I speak to you for a minute?”

 
“Certainly.” With a last, hard look at the other fellow, he allowed Samantha to lead him through the small gift shop and back out to the gravel parking lot.

 
“What the hell was that about?” she demanded.

 
“Why don’t you tell me?”

 
“So I can’t speak to anybody who has a dick anymore without you attacking? That is not going to work.”

 
“Who is he?”

 
“Aren’t you listening to me? I am not—”

 
He grabbed her arm, yanking her closer to him. “He’s a thief. I got that much. I also got that you know him. So who is he? And don’t play any fucking games with me, Sam.”

 
“You need to calm down,” she snapped back, trying to pull her arm free. He let her go, only because he knew that being trapped pushed her panic button. “Yes,
he’s a thief. Did you expect me to announce it in front of everyone? You might have given me five damn minutes. But no, you have to charge in like a fucking bull. I guess I should be grateful that you didn’t knock anyone down.”

 
“Don’t—”

 
“Don’t what?” she interrupted, staying right in his face. “Are you taking over, or is this still my gig? Because I seem to remember you saying that I’d earned it, and I deserved it. If you only meant that I could do this job until something actually happened, then you and I have a problem.”

 
He blew out his breath. She had a point. A good one. He hadn’t given her any time to do anything, and he had tried to take over. She’d been on the walkie-talkie. In all honesty, she might very well have told Craigson to keep an eye on their Irish visitor.

 
“Apologies,” he said, gazing at the gravel.

 
For a long second she stayed silent. “Okay. I’m keeping an eye on him, and I warned him not to come back. He knows I’m on to him, so I doubt he’ll be trying anything.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “And you so owe me a good old American hamburger. Deal?”

 
His life had changed a great deal over the past eight months. Before then, before Samantha, he never apologized for anything, never backed down, and certainly never admitted defeat. They matched, all right—so much so that if they both stayed on the offensive, they would probably kill one another. And so he backed down. “Deal.”

 
She gave him her heart-stealing, quicksilver smile and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m going back in. Be calm; I’ve got this handled.”

 
Still breathing hard, he watched her slip back in through the gift shop. It was only then that two things occurred to him: one, she had the diamond in her pocket, so perhaps he’d been too hasty about the no-such-thing-as-curses business. And two, she hadn’t given him the Irish bloke’s name.

 
Chapter 6

 
Friday, 4:32 p.m.

 
Samantha perched on the back of a chair in thesecurity office. Munching on an apple, she flipped through her checklist. “Two more guys on horseback? I like it. At least for the first weekend.”

 
Craigson made a note on his assignment sheet. “Well, after we had to run that television crew off the lakeshore, it occurred to me. We need more mobility in patrolling the grounds, or you’ll have tourists in your bedroom.”

 
She chuckled, not sure whether she was amused or annoyed. “That would put a crimp in things.”

 
“Can I ask you a question, Sam?” he asked, tossing his clipboard onto the desk behind him.

 
“Sure.”

 
“I have a bit of an…odd résumé. Why am I your second-in-command here?”

 
“Stoney vouched for you. He said after you got nicked and did your two years in the slam, you told him flat out
that you were retiring. And you took a job as a wedding videographer, which pretty much tells me that you were serious about not getting back into the game.”

 
“Aye. The life’s addictive, but I like my blue skies without bars across them. And thank you for knowing the difference between retiring andretiring .”

 
“Well, Jamie, I’m kind of going through the same thing, myself.”