Twice the Temptation (38 page)

 
“Only if your Mr. Shepherd makes another appearance.”

 
“He’s not ‘my’ anything, and there could be any number of black hats strolling through those doors right now. I just hope Larson doesn’t kill anybody, or screw things up so badly that somebody actually makes off with the gemstones.”

 
“You have met some competent law enforcement officers, if you’ll recall.”

 
She shrugged. “I know they’re out there. I also know that I’ve been breaking the law since I was six. Number of cuffs put around my wrists? One pair. And that wasn’t my fault.”

 
“Okay, okay. I see your point. But have you considered that the more obvious Inspector Larson is, the less likely anyone is to attempt anything with him standing there? And the object is, after all, for the exhibit not to be hit.”

 
When Samantha faced him again, she was grinning. “You’re a pretty smart fella, Brit. You should consider going into business. You’d probably be fairly decent at it.”

 
He kissed her softly. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll consider it.”

 
They headed back downstairs. “Ooh, and then I could be your secretary and sit on your desk in a really short skirt and take dic…tation.”

 
For a second Richard stopped to watch her black-slacks-clothed backside sway as she descended the main staircase. When she half turned to look coyly over her shoulder at him, he went after her.

 
Shoving her against the wall on the landing, he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders. “I believe I’ve warned you about teasing me,” he murmured.

 
“Who’s teasing?” Tangling her fingers into his hair, she pulled his face down for a deep, openmouthed kiss.

 
For a long moment he concentrated on kissing her back, on the ebb and flow of dominance and control and passion between them. No wonder they butted heads so often—in a great many ways they were very much alike. Added to that, Samantha had some serious boundary issues that eight months had only just begun to wear down.

 
Slowly she lifted her palms to his chest and pushed him away a few inches. “Okay, that’s enough fun. I have work to do.”

 
“It’s not even close to being enough fun,” he returned, capturing her mouth again, “but very well. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

 
“For this gig? I think I’ve got it covered.” With a last, quick kiss she headed back in the direction of the cellar.

 
She probably did have it covered. And he still turned on the walkie-talkie he’d nicked from downstairs. It was one thing to have confidence in her; it was quite another to trust that everything else would go swimmingly. Yes, he trusted her—but he was also an exceedingly cautious fellow where Samantha Elizabeth Jellicoe and her safety were concerned.

 
Chapter 8

 
Saturday, 5:12 p.m.

 
Samantha reached the exhibit doors as HenryLarson emerged into the early evening. “We just cleared the building,” he said, nodding his chin in the direction of her security people.

 
“That’s great,” she returned, “but I think I’ll just take a last look, myself. Bennett, care to join me?”

 
The beefy guard nodded, falling in behind her. Larson looked annoyed, but she didn’t much care. He might suspect that someone was after the gems, but he didn’t know it was Bryce Shepherd, and he couldn’t possibly know as much about Shepherd’s methods as she did.

 
“I’ll accompany you,” the inspector put in, stepping in front of Bennett. “You can’t be too careful, I suppose.”

 
Oh, brother. If he suspected her, she would ordinarily have considered him a smart cookie. But since she’d been the one to wire this place within an inch of its life and very publicly declared herself its protector, he was just being stupid. Of course, even if she had been up to
something and he was standing right on her head to keep watch, he still wouldn’t have caught her at it.

 
“So everybody’s equally capable of making away with the goods?” she asked just to make conversation, opening the wall panel and turning on the bright overhead lights.

 
“Everyone has their price,” he agreed. “And these jewels represent quite a lot of blunt.”

 
“Did you notice anyone suspicious?” she continued, beginning her walk to each of the displays and checking first to see if all the gems were in place, and second to make certain the tiny green sensor lights were still on.

 
“There were a few possibilities. I stayed close on them, and they didn’t dare make any trouble.” He cleared his throat. “Is it always going to be so crowded, do you think?”

 
“The weekends will be bad, but today and tomorrow will probably be the worst,” she said absently, picking a wad of gum out from one of the latches on a display’s underside.Blech . Gross, but pretty lame if it was an attempt at being evil. She could do much better with just the junk in her pockets.

 
With that thought, she reached her fingers into both her jacket pockets. Nothing she hadn’t placed there. After yesterday she didn’t think Rick would attempt to plant the Nightshade Diamond on her again, but she wasn’t willing to take any risks where her own luck was concerned. Of course, he kept going around boasting that since he didn’t believe in luck, the thing had no effect on him. Even after the blown tire and wrecked cell phone and lost business deal. What he probably needed was some more proof—the kind he couldn’t dispute.

 
Could she do that to him? Samantha frowned as she
made her way down the second row.Why was she even asking herself the question? He’d done it to her. And she’d learned the lesson a long time ago about not letting anyone eventhink they had the advantage over her. Weakness meant failure, and failure meant jail—or death.

 
“Don’t all of the sensors show up on your computer?” Larson asked.

 
“Yep.”

 
“Then why are you bothering to check whether the little lights are on? It seems to me you should be doing more patrolling of the property here.”

 
Samantha glanced at him. “I’m cautious and paranoid,” she returned. “Why aren’t you?”

 
“Oh, I am. I just think that you need to have faith in your own system. If you don’t, then why did you install it?”

 
She put her hands on her hips as weariness pulled at her. Just as stubbornly she pushed back. “Is this because I wouldn’t give you a walkie-talkie?”

 
Bennett snorted, covering the sound with a cough.

 
“It has nothing to do with that,” the inspector retorted. “I spent all day in here keeping an eye on things. You got to sit in a comfy chair,and you have employees to help you. I didmy job, Miss Jellicoe. And I did it well.”

 
For a Scotland Yard guy, he didn’t seem to know much about bypassing circuits and looping connections to give false positives. She knew, though, and so she kept checking the displays and the other doors one by one. He might have been keeping watch in person, but with a couple hundred visitors inside at any given time, he couldn’t possibly see everything. Even with experts like Craigson and herself watching, even with the ability to zoom and replay, she still wasn’t going to leave
for the evening without giving everything a closer look.

 
After ten more minutes she had to admit that everything was shipshape and nobody was hiding up in the rafters. And even better, no one had seen any sign of Bryce Shepherd. She lifted the walkie-talkie. “Okay, Craigson, switch the display sensors to night.”

 
“Roger that.”

 
On the wall panel a fourth and fifth light blinked on red, then switched to green. Now if anybody so much as breathed hard on the glass display covers, the alarm would go off. Taking a last glance around, Samantha flipped off the overhead lights and the display lighting. “Gentlemen,” she said, gesturing Larson and Bennett to precede her out the door.

 
“Maybe now you’ll trust that I know what I’m doing,” the inspector said smugly. “A pair of eyes is still better than all the expensive equipment you can install.”

 
“You’re a jerk, Larson.” She closed and locked the door. “Reset the door codes, Jamie,” she instructed.

 
“Done and done.”

 
Whew. Day one, finished. “Thanks,” she said into the walkie-talkie. “Say good night, Gracie.”

 
“Good night, Gracie.”

 
With a nod at Bennett, she headed back for the house. One down, twenty-seven days to go. Yay, her.

 
Abruptly Larson grabbed her shoulder. “I do not appreciate being scoffed at or ridiculed, Miss Jellicoe,” he snapped. “I am a pro—”

 
“Get your hand off my arm,” she interrupted, instantly going from relieved to extremely pissed off.

 
Evidently reading her expression, Larson did probably the smartest thing he’d managed all day and let her go. Samantha took a steadying breath. She’d been
all set to kick the crap out of him—or at least smack him—and his sudden reasonableness was a little disappointing.

 
“My apologies, Miss Jellicoe. As I was saying, I am a professional. And I hope that by working together rather than in opposition, we can thwart any—”

 
“Rick and I will be having dinner in our private rooms tonight,” she broke in. “See you in the morning.”

 
She left him in the garden, ignoring whatever it was he was muttering about Americans in general, and her in particular. Pip-pip and Bob’s your uncle—Christ, that stiff, polite British upper lip shit drove her crazy sometimes. Especially when it came from incompetent boobs she couldn’t even insult the way she wanted to because he was a cop and might go digging and actually turn up something.

 
Her cell phone rang as she stepped inside Rick’s office, so with a quick wave at him she reversed course and went on to her own office next door. “Hey, Stoney,” she greeted the caller, recognizing the ring tone.

 
“Enough small talk,” he returned. “How did opening day go?”

 
She grinned. “Nothing got ripped off. You’d be just as happy if every gem went missing, though.”

 
“Only if you were the one who pulled the job.”

 
“Oh, you’re sweet.” She sat back against the edge of her Georgian mahogany desk. “Did you find out anything about Bryce?”

 
“Not a word.”

 
“Damn. Nobody talking, or no info?”

 
“No info.”

 
The other end of the line went quiet. Considering that Stoneyalways had something to say, that didn’t bode well. “Okay, what’s up?” she prompted.

 
“A couple of brokers I talked to practically started drooling when I mentioned the V & A traveling exhibit. Bryce could be going in on spec—there’s plenty of interest for anything he might be able to grab.”

 
Great. “He knows better than to go up against me, especially without a guaranteed paycheck.”

 
“I don’t know, honey. You’re retired and doing security. That doesn’t sound like top-of-your-game-type stuff.”

 
She scowled. “I’m not a janitor. Christ.”