Twice the Temptation (47 page)

 
Her voice made an odd echoing sound.Fuck. He had his radio with him. As her voice subsided he lifted the gun and pointed it at her head. “Put the radio down, Miss Jellicoe.”

 
She complied, dropping it to the floor. “If you’re really working with Bryce, you are not going to shoot me,” she stated, moving a little closer to the wall, looking to get an angle on him. Whether he knew it or not, this was not the first time someone had pointed a gun at her. Panic meant death, and she was not going to panic.

 
“Don’t move another inch. And he might like you, but he likes a couple million quid in jewels better.”

 
Larson was probably right about that. Bryce did like his loot. And he was going to have a lot of it unless she could get out the damned door. Taking a breath, Samantha took another half step, twisting her foot a little so that her heel slid out from under her. “Damn,” she muttered, reaching a hand against the wall to balance herself.

 
In the same motion she kicked out, slamming her heel into his shoulder. The pistol went off, and the lamp behind her head exploded. Larson fell over, grabbing his shoulder, and she kicked again, straight into his
crotch. With a wheeze he rolled into a quivering, gasping ball.

 
Samantha grabbed the gun, unlocked the door, and ran.

 
As she flew down the hallway she realized that she still had the Nightshade Diamond clutched in her left hand.Dammit. Not having any pockets, she stuffed it into her bra. It had better have already spent its quota of bad luck for the evening—she couldn’t take much more.

 
She rounded the corner to the main staircase—and slammed into Rick as he topped the stairs. “Ouch!”

 
He grabbed her shoulders. “I heard a gunshot and you on the radio. Are you all right?” he demanded.

 
“Yeah. Let go.”

 
“Jesus. Just a minute.” Gingerly he reached down to take the gun out of her hand. She’d nearly forgotten she held it. “What the bloody hell happened?”

 
“Larson’s a black hat,” she returned, shouldering past him. “The rest later.”

 
She heard him thundering down the stairs behind her. If Bryce could help it, he wouldn’t be hanging around once the alarm tripped—thanks to Larson, she might have missed him already. That had probably been the plan all along: Have stupid Larson bumble around and get in the way so Bryce could waltz off the estate unopposed.

 
“Do you have a radio?” she shot over her shoulder as they reached the ground floor and raced across the foyer.

 
“It’s what sent me looking for you.”

 
She reached out as he drew even with her, and he put it into her hand. “Harrington,” she panted, “what’s the op?”

 
“I don’t know,” his tense voice returned. “The cameras went black, then every alarm went off simultaneously. The computers shut the hall down.”

 
Good.Then Bryce was probably still inside. “Don’t unlock anything until I get there.”

 
“Roger tha—Bloody…The fire alarm just went off. Shit. Sam—”

 
“Watch the doors!” she yelled into the walkie talkie, charging out of the house and into the garden. Next emergency, she was not wearing damn high heels.

 
Rick kept pace with her. “The fire alarm releases the doors, doesn’t it?” he panted.

 
“Yep. Dammit. I was supposed to be there by the time anybody figured that out.” She cursed Larson again.

 
At the far edge of the garden she slowed. Every guard on the premises surrounded the exhibit hall, concentrating on the doors at either end. A flash of sympathetic anxiety ran through her. She’d faced security people, but never like this. She wouldn’t exactly have called it a career high for Bryce Shepherd.

 
With a slight frown she radioed Harrington to patch her in to the exhibit hall’s internal speaker system. “Attention unauthorized occupant,” she said in her most confident voice, trying not to feel stupid since she knew perfectly well who was inside, “the building is surrounded, and the authorities are en route. There is a blue phone on the left side of the entrance door. Pick that up to communicate with me.”

 
Silence.

 
Come on, Bryce, she urged silently. She’d designed the place as a bring-’em-back-alive thief trap, in case anybody managed to break through her security system. A phone, a remote door release so nobody would have
to bust in or out, guns blazing. If he didn’t take advantage of what she offered…well, it would make him just like her.

 
She would be checking vents, roof integrity, looking for any opening big enough to squeeze into. Picking up that phone meant giving up, and she wouldn’t do that until somebody snapped the handcuffs on her wrists. It was weird to be on this side of things, and easier to relate to what was probably going on inside than with the tense, alert faces she saw around her.

 
Rick touched her arm, and she jumped. “What?”

 
“If you aren’t comfortable with this, I’ll handle it.”

 
“What are you, a mind reader?” she growled, wrenching her arm free. “He broke into my place and messed with my stuff. I don’t sympathize. I get pissed. I’m just trying to figure out his next move. Okay?”

 
“Okay.”

 
Her radio clicked. “Sammi, my love,” Bryce’s low lilt came, “how’d you get this number? I thought I was unlisted.”

 
Until that moment she hadn’t realized that she was disappointed in Bryce, knowing that he was still inside. He was good enough to have pulled this job; he had had half a chance of getting away. “Bryce, the doors are unlocked,” she said, knowing everybody with a radio could hear both sides of the conversation.

 
“Ah, why don’t you come on in, then, and we’ll have a chat?”

 
“No bloody way,” Rick snarled from beside her. “Wait for the police.”

 
She scowled at him. “This is my gig, remember?” she snapped, lifting the radio again. “Larson tried to put a bullet in me, Bryce. I’m not going in there.”

 
“He wasn’t supposed to do that. I only wanted him
to put a bit of a scare into you, keep you occupied while I did my dance.”

 
“Come out, Bryce,” she returned. “Don’t make the cops wreck my pretty exhibit hall.”

 
No answer.

 
“What do you think he’s up to?” Rick asked, moving closer to her—probably to grab her if she tried to go inside the hall.

 
“He doesn’t want to be tied to the phone. He’s still got half a chance of getting out before the cops and weapons arrive, and he’s not going to waste it.”

 
She could feel Rick’s gaze on her, probably wondering how many times she’d faced this situation herself. “Will he find a way?”

 
“That depends on what tools he has with him. With a heavy hammer or a crowbar he could probably get out onto the roof. Quiet doesn’t matter now.”

 
His gaze lifted to the high, sloped roof of the old stable. Before he could ask anything else, Donner came trotting out from the house. Samantha glanced back in the direction of the garden. Rick’s guests were there, watching and muttering among themselves. Great. Just great.

 
“What’s going on?” the attorney asked.

 
“We’re trying to stop a robbery,” Rick said shortly.

 
“Jellicoe, or that Shepherd guy?”

 
Samantha lifted an eyebrow, shaking herself out of her own distraction. “You told him about Bryce?”

 
“I asked him to look into it, yes,” Rick returned. “We’ll save that discussion for later, when we have the one about Larson trying to shoot you.”

 
She looked from the crowd to the building. The longer she stood around waiting for the authorities, the better Bryce’s chances were for getting away with a fortune in precious gems. She’d never get another
job like this, and Rick would never have the opportunity to contribute his name or fortune to an event like this again. And he loved doing this kind of thing.Fuck.

 
Bending down, she slipped out of her shoes. Rick watched her. “You are not going in there,” he repeated.

 
“Do you really want to have this argument now?” she muttered, turning the volume down on the walkie-talkie and switching back to Harrington’s main frequency.

 
“Yes, I do. Later, you might be dead.”

 
“No. Bryce wouldn’t hurt me.”

 
“His friend nearly did.”

 
She actually wasn’t that sure, herself, but she knew Shepherd better than anyone else around here did. And she knew he was close to getting out, if he hadn’t done so already. “This is my job, Rick.”

 
“No, it’s not. Setting up and maintaining security is your job. Not apprehending people who get through your security.”

 
He still didn’t get it. “Be here or not when I get back, Rick, but I’m going in. And you can’t stop me.”

 
“I could.”

 
Samantha lifted up on her toes to meet his hard gaze. “Are you going to try?”

 
His jaw clenched. The I’m-in-charge guy in him would hate to relinquish any power, but he had to know what a fight between them over this could do. “Be careful,” he finally ground out. “If I hear anything I don’t like, I’m going in. And I will shoot him. I have no problem about that at all.”

 
Chapter 13

 
Monday, 9:39 p.m.

 
Samantha took a deep breath, sent a last glanceback at Rick’s angry, concerned face, and pulled open the exhibit hall’s main door.

 
Her mind wanted to take the time to sort out why she was willing to risk her relationship with Rick to walk into trouble, and if and when he would decide he’d had enough of her adrenaline addiction.Later, Sam , she told herself sternly. Worrying about her relationship with Rick right now could get her killed.

 
She went in, stepping quickly to one side so she wouldn’t be silhouetted in the doorway, and let the door swing shut on its own. The red emergency lights were on, and the fire sprinklers bolted on the underside of the lowest roof beams sprayed water all over the displays, the walls, and the floor.

 
In the past she’d never thought twice about making as much of a mess as she wanted while pulling a job. Sometimes the confusion she left behind had even been to her
benefit. But at this moment, the mess made her angry.

 
Instinctively she stayed close to the wall and moved silently as she searched the red dimness. The diamond displays were empty, along with a third of the other precious and semiprecious gem displays. If this was what it felt like to be robbed, she didn’t like it. And this stuff technically wasn’t even hers.

 
“Why are you hiding, Sam?” Bryce’s voice came. “I thought you wanted to talk, to convince me to give up and walk myself off to prison.”

 
“I asked you to wait, Bryce,” she returned, trying to pinpoint his location in the noise and chaos around her. “And I warned you about what would happen if you didn’t.” She crouched, looking along the floor for feet or legs. Nothing. “Don’t blame me for what you’ve gotten yourself into.”