Sweet Revenge

by Nora Roberts

  “It’s kind of you to be concerned.”

  “Well, we have to stick together at times like this. I’m sure they were insured, but a woman’s jewelry is personal. I think I’ll get a drink myself, then you can tell me what you know.”

  When she moved by him into the sitting room, he took her seat on the bed. He wrinkled his nose as he sipped. The maid must have appalling taste in cologne, he thought as he caught a whiff of Rose. He noticed the leather miniskirt waiting to be packed. Not exactly Adrianne’s style, he mused, and wondered why he thought he’d seen it before.

  “Have the police any clues?” Adrianne asked as she came back in with a glass of iced vermouth.

  “I couldn’t say. Apparently, someone came in through the second-story window and cracked the safe in the master bedroom. It seems Madeline was off in the country. Coincidentally, at the same inn where we dined last night.”

  “You’re joking. Odd we didn’t see her.”

  “She’d come out later. On a wild goose chase, you might say. It seems the thief was clever enough to lure her out of the house with the promise of a romantic midnight supper with a secret admirer.”

  “Now I know you’re joking.” She smiled, then let her eyes sober when he didn’t respond. “How dreadful for her.”

  “And her ego.”

  “That too.” She shuddered delicately. “At least she wasn’t there when he broke in. She might have been murdered.”

  Philip sipped at his whiskey. It was smooth. Every bit as smooth as The Shadow. He couldn’t help admiring both. “I don’t think so.”

  She didn’t care for the way he said it, or the way he looked at her as he did. Adrianne set down her glass to continue her packing. “Did you say he took only one necklace? That’s strange, don’t you think? Certainly there’d be many valuables in Madeline’s safe.”

  “One has to assume the pendant was the only thing of interest.”

  “An eccentric thief?” She smiled and moved to the closet. “Well, I’m terribly sorry for Madeline, but I’m sure the police will have him in a matter of days.”

  “Sooner or later, in any case.” He drained the whiskey. “They’re looking for a young man with a beard. It seems he talked his way into the flat with some business about exterminating mice. The Yard thinks he cased the place from inside, probably tampered with the alarm system so that either he or his accomplice could break in later.”

  “Complicated.” Adrianne tilted her head. “You seem to know a great deal about it.”

  “Connections.” He passed his empty glass from hand to hand. “One has to admire him.”

  “A thief? Why?”

  “Skill. Style. The ruse to get Madeline out of London showed creativity. Flair. I admire both.” He set the glass aside. “Did you sleep well last night, Adrianne?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. There was something in the question—rather, something under it. “Shouldn’t I have?”

  He held up the miniskirt, studying it with a frown. “I didn’t. Oddly enough, I took a walk, ended up strolling along near here, as a matter of fact. It must have been about one, one-fifteen.”

  She felt a need for the vermouth again. “Did you? Too much champagne perhaps. Personally, it makes me sleep like the dead.”

  His eyes met hers, and held. “I’d wondered. This isn’t your usual style, is it?”

  She took the leather skirt from him and laid it in her suitcase. “A whim. It was nice of you to bring me the news.”

  “Just part of the service.”

  “I hate to rush you along, Philip, but I really must organize myself. My plane leaves at six.”

  “I’ll see you again.”

  She lifted a brow in a gesture she’d learned from Celeste. “It’s hard to tell about these things.”

  “I’ll see you again,” he repeated as he rose. He knew how to move quickly and without warning. She had time to toss her chin up when his hand slid around her neck. But she didn’t have time to brace before his mouth came down to hers.

  It might have made a difference. She needed to believe it would have made a difference. If she had had even an instant to prepare, she wouldn’t have responded. Still, she wouldn’t have known his mouth would be so warm or so clever.

  His fingers tightened at the back of her neck. It should have been enough to have her pulling away. Instead, she leaned toward him. It was only a hint of acceptance, but more than she’d ever given anyone else.

  It had been impulse, unplanned, with the consequences uncalculated. He’d simply wanted to taste her, to leave her with something of him. Other women would have responded easily or pulled back in refusal. Adrianne merely stood, as if stunned by the most basic contact of man to woman. The hesitation, the confusion he sensed in her, contrasted sharply with the heat of her mouth. Her lips were soft, smooth, and open, and a low, reluctant moan of passion slipped through them and into him. He was rocked more by that than by any sexual experience he’d ever encountered.

  She’d paled, and he saw that glimmer of fear in her eyes again when she stepped back. The urge to take her then, to roll madly with her over the clothes neatly folded on the bed, was banked. Her secrets were still secrets, and his desire to unravel them was stronger than ever.

  “I want you to go.”

  “All right.” To satisfy himself, he took her hand. It trembled lightly in his. No act this, he thought. No game or pretense. “But we haven’t finished.” Though her fingers were stiff, he brought them to his lips. “No, we haven’t finished. I think we both know it. Have a pleasant flight, Adrianne.”

  She waited until she was alone before she sat again. She didn’t want to feel this way, to need this way. Not now, not ever.

  “You’re not telling me everything, Adrianne. I can feel it.”

  “Everything about what?” Adrianne scanned the ballroom at the Plaza. The orchestra was tuning up, the flowers were fresh and abundant. Along one wall the staff was lined up, uniforms sharply pressed, shoulders back as if they were marines receiving a final inspection by the manager.

  In a few moments the doors would be opened to the cream of society. They would come to dance, to drink, and to be photographed. That was fine with Adrianne. The cool thousand a head they paid for the privilege would go a long way toward paying for a new pediatric wing she was sponsoring in an upstate hospital.

  “Perhaps I should have gone with poinsettias,” she mused. “They’re so festive, and Christmas is only a few weeks off.”

  “Adrianne.”

  The impatience in Celeste’s voice had her smiling as she turned. “Yes, darling?”

  “What exactly went on in London?”

  “I told you.” She glided around the tables. No, she’d been right to go with the asters. The lavender shade was striking against the pastel green cloths. And festive or not, poinsettias were everywhere this time of year.

  “What did you leave out, Addy?”

  “Celeste, really, you’re distracting me and I don’t have much time.”

  “Everything’s perfect, as usual.” Taking matters into her own hands, Celeste gripped Adrianne’s arm and drew her farther away from the tuxedoed band members. “Did something go wrong?”

  “No, nothing.”

  “You’ve been edgy since you’ve been back.”

  “I’ve been busy since I’ve been back,” Adrianne retorted, brushing Celeste’s cheek with her lips. “You know how important this function is to me.”

  “I know.” Relenting, Celeste took her hand. “No one does it better, and I’d swear no one cares more. You know, Addy, if you concentrated on this kind of work, gave it all the energy and talent you do the other, there wouldn’t be a need—”

  “Not tonight.” The easiest way to end the conversation was to signal for the doors to be opened. “Curtain up, darling.”

  “Addy. You’d tell me if you were in trouble.”

  “You’d be the first.” With a brilliant smile Adrianne swept forward to greet the early arrivals.


  It wasn’t difficult to keep the partygoers happy. It required only seeing that the food was first class, the music loud, and the wine free-flowing. As the evening progressed, Adrianne drifted from table to table and group to group. She wound her way through the silks and taffetas and velvets, the Saint Laurents, the Diors, and de la Rentas.

  Though she didn’t settle long enough to eat, she danced when pressed, and she flirted and flattered. She noticed Lauren St. John, the deplorable second wife of a hotel tycoon, wearing a new suite of diamonds and rubies. Adrianne waited her chance. When Lauren walked toward the ladies’ lounge, Adrianne followed her.

  Inside, two actresses were having a low-toned and bitter fight. Over a man, Adrianne realized as she chose a stall. Typical. They were lucky People had sent a male reporter who couldn’t be privy to women’s room gossip. Of course if the lounge attendant had a good memory, she could make herself an extra fifty by passing the story along. Adrianne heard Lauren swear in the next stall and guessed she was struggling to pull the snug skirt over her hips. On cue, Adrianne walked to the sinks to wait. When Lauren joined her, the actresses slammed out, one then the other.

  “Were they haggling over who I think they were haggling over?” Lauren asked as she washed her hands.

  “Sounded like it.”

  “He is a sexy son of a bitch. Do you think he’s going to divorce her?” She picked up a bottle of scent, sniffed it, then sprayed with abandon.

  “Odds are.” Adrianne crossed to the lighted vanity and took out her compact. “The question is, why does she want to hold on to him?”

  “Because he’s the best fuck around … I hear.” Lauren sat on one of the cushy white stools and fussed with her lipstick. “We got to see a great deal of his—talent—in his last movie. I wouldn’t mind a trial run myself.” She took out a monogrammed silver brush and smoothed her sleekly cut blond hair.

  “A woman can get sex without humiliation.” Adrianne spoke with casual conviction, though it was something she’d never been quite sure of.

  “Of course, but with some a little humiliation is worth it.” Lauren leaned forward to peer into her own eyes, satisfying herself that the need for a lift was still years off. “Whose heart are you breaking this week, darling?”

  “I’m taking a rest.” Adrianne used her fingers to fluff out the hair around her face before she took a vial of perfume out of her bag. “Lauren, that necklace is simply stunning. Is it new?” She already knew when it had been bought and for how much. She’d almost finished calculating just how long Lauren would own it.

  “Yes.” She turned, right then left, so the stones caught the light and shimmered. “Charlie gave it to me for our anniversary. One year last week.”

  “And they said it wouldn’t last,” Adrianne murmured, shifting to admire it. “Exquisite, really.”

  “Seventy carats in diamonds, fifty-eight in rubies. Burmese.”

  “Of course.” That was how Lauren’s mind worked. Adrianne both disdained and appreciated it.

  “Not counting the earrings.” Lauren turned her head to be certain they showed to the best advantage. “Luckily, I’m tall enough to carry them. Nothing tackier than seeing some of these little women so loaded down with jewelry they can hardly totter about. The older they get, the more they pile it on—so you don’t notice how many chins they have. Now, you …” Lauren glanced over at Adrianne’s filigree necklace studded with brilliant-cut sapphires and diamonds. “You always know exactly what to wear and how to wear it. That’s a very sweet necklace.”

  Adrianne only smiled. If the stones had been real, it would have been worth a cool hundred thousand. As it was, the pretty colored stones could be had for less than one percent of that. “Thanks.” Rising, Adrianne brushed at her skirt. The full silver skirt contrasted nicely with the snug bustier of royal blue velvet. “I must go out and do my duty. We’ll have to have lunch soon, Lauren, and discuss the fashion show.”

  “Love to.” Lauren glanced at the dollar Adrianne had left for the attendant. It was enough to cover both of them, she decided, then tucked the bottle of scent into her bag.

  Charles and Lauren St. John, Adrianne mused. The gala star-studded fashion show would take place in their new hotel in Cozumel. Wasn’t that handy? Everyone who was anyone would be there. Even handier. It was always an advantage to steal in a crowd. Smiling, she thought about Lauren’s anniversary gift. She’d have to arrange that lunch very soon.

  “Is that smile for me?”

  When Adrianne found herself caught in Philip’s arms, the smile not only disappeared, her mouth fell open. Before she could react, he was kissing her, just a bit too hard and too long for a casual greeting. Then he drew back, but kept her hands firmly in his.

  “Miss me?”

  “No.”

  “Lucky I know you’re a habitual liar.” He let his gaze skim over her bare shoulders, the blue stones at her throat, then back to her face. “You look gorgeous.”

  She had to do something, and quickly. It was bad enough that people were watching them, but it was worse, much worse, that her heart was hammering. “I’m sorry, Philip, but this isn’t an open party. I’m quite sure you didn’t buy a ticket.”

  “But I’m a gate crasher bearing gifts.” He took a check out of the inside pocket of his dinner jacket. “For your very worthy cause, Adrianne.”

  It was twice the price of a ticket. Even if she hated him for disrupting her routine, she had to admire his generosity. “Thank you.” She dropped the folded check into her bag.

  He was glad she’d left her hair down so that he could let his fingers loose in it. “Dance with me.”

  “No.”

  “Afraid to let me get my hands on you again?”

  Her eyes narrowed as temper spit out of them. He was laughing at her. That was something she took from no one. “Again?” But her voice wasn’t as icy as she’d hoped.

  This time he did laugh, out loud. “Adrianne, you’re delightful. Do you know I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind?”

  “Obviously, you haven’t enough to occupy your time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do.”

  “Addy.” With the instinctive timing of a veteran, Celeste glided to her side. “You haven’t introduced me to your friend.”

  “Philip Chamberlain,” she said between her teeth. “Celeste Michaels.”

  “I’ve seen Ms. Michaels dozens of times.” Taking Celeste’s hand, Philip kissed it. “She’s been breaking my heart for years.”

  “A pity I didn’t know it until now.” A quick study, Celeste summed up both Philip and the situation. If ever there was a man to make a woman edgy, this was he. “Did you meet Addy in London?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay.” In a smooth move he ran a hand along Adrianne’s shoulder and the back of her neck. “She also refuses to dance with me. Perhaps you will.”

  “Certainly.” Taking Philip’s arm, Celeste sent one quick and mischievous grin over her shoulder. “You’ve infuriated her.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  Celeste settled a hand on his shoulder. “Addy’s not easily rattled.”

  “So I gather. You’ve fond of her.”

  “I love her above all others. Which is why I intend to keep a very close eye on you, Mr. Chamberlain.”

  “Philip.” He turned Celeste so that he could watch Adrianne lean over a prune-faced grande dame. “She’s a fascinating woman, both less and more than what she seems.”

  Celeste heard the jingle of warning bells as she studied his face. “You’re very astute. The point is, Adrianne is a woman, a very sensitive, very vulnerable one. If I were to find out that someone hurt her, I’d be very unhappy. And I’m not sensitive at all, Philip. Just mean.”

  He smiled down at her. “Have you ever considered having an affair with a younger man?”

  She laughed, taking the compliment as it was meant. “You’re a charmer. Since you amuse me, I’ll give you a little advice. Charm doesn’t work on
Addy. Patience might.”

  “I appreciate it,” Philip said. He was watching Adrianne when she lifted a hand to her throat and found it bare. He saw her instant of surprise and confusion, then the tightly controlled temper as she zeroed in on him. With a smile he sent her a nod of acknowledgment. Her necklace of faux diamonds and sapphires was resting comfortably in his pocket.

  The bastard. The low, slimy bastard. He’d stolen from her. He’d lifted the necklace right off her throat without her feeling a thing but the pumping of her pulse. Then he’d taunted her. He’d looked right at her and grinned.

  He was going to pay for it, Adrianne thought as she tossed her gloves into her shoulder bag. And he was going to pay for it tonight.

  She knew it was reckless. There hadn’t been time to work out a plan coolheadedly. All she knew was that he’d taken from her, laughed at her, challenged her. Celeste, innocently enough, had passed on the information that Philip was staying at the Carlyle. That was all Adrianne needed.

  She’d had an hour to change out of her gown and into her