by Nora Roberts
He blew smoke out thoughtfully as he watched her. She was no amateur, he thought, and a long way from being a novice. “Oh, you took them, Addy. Or you know who did. Does the name Rose Sparrow ring a bell?”
She continued to sip, though her palms had broken into a sweat. “Should it?”
“It was the skirt,” Philip mused. “It took me quite a while to put it together. You’re a distraction. But when I visited our mutual friend, Freddie, he mentioned Rose, described her. And I remembered that little blue leather skirt you were packing. The one that was so unlike your usual style.”
“If you’re going to talk in circles, I really have to go. I haven’t had any sleep.”
“Sit down.”
She wouldn’t have obeyed, but the sharp snap of his voice warned her it would be less complicated if she did. “If I read you correctly, you’ve somehow gotten it into your head that I had something to do with Madeline’s burglary.” Setting the scotch aside, she ordered her shoulders to relax. “I can only ask you, why would I? I hardly need the money.”
“It’s not a matter of need, but of motive.”
The pulse in her throat was beating uncomfortably. She ignored it and kept her eyes steadily in contact with his. “What are you, a Scotland Yard man?”
With a laugh he tapped his cigarette out. “Not precisely. You’ve heard the adage it takes a thief to catch a thief?”
When the bell rang, it rang loud and clear. She’d heard talk of the legendary thief known only as P.C. He was reputed to be charming, ruthless, and the master of second-story work. He specialized in jewels. Some said he’d stolen the Wellingford diamond, a seventy-five-carat stone of the first water. Then he’d retired. Adrianne had always pictured an older man, a cunning veteran. She picked up the scotch again.
It was ironic that she was at last in the company of one of her own, and the best, yet she wasn’t free to talk shop.
“Is that your way of telling me you’re a thief?”
“Was.”
“Fascinating. Then I suppose you might have taken Madeline’s pendant.”
“A few years ago I would have. The point is, you had a hand in it, Addy, and I want to know why.”
She rose, swirling the inch of scotch left in the glass. “Philip, if for some insane reason I had a part in taking it, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”
“Your title doesn’t mean a damn here, between the two of us, nor do social graces. Either you tell me, or you tell my superiors.”
“Who are?”
“I work for Interpol.” He watched her lift the scotch to her lips and drain it. “They’ve tied several burglaries during almost a decade to one man, one very elusive man. The Moreau sapphire is just the last of a very long list.”
“Interesting. But what does it have to do with me?”
“We can set up a meeting. I might be able to work a deal and keep you out of it.”
“That’s very gallant,” she said as she set the glass aside. “Or would be if you were right.” Though she knew how close the edge was, still she smiled confidently. “Can you imagine how amused my friends would be if I told them I’d been accused of being involved with a thief? I could dine off it for weeks.”
“Dammit, can’t you see I’m trying to help you?” He was up quickly, his hands on her arms, shaking her. “There’s no reason for the act with me. There’s no one else here, no need for pretense. I saw you outside of your hotel on the night of the robbery, dressed all in black, sneaking in the service entrance. I know you had something to do with seeing the jewels were fenced. You’re involved in this, Addy. I was in the business, for Christ’s sake. I know how it works.”
“You have nothing solid to take to your superiors.”
“Not yet. It’s only a matter of time. No one knows better how high the odds become after a few years. If you’re in trouble, if you’ve had to sell a few baubles to save face, I’ve got no reason to embarrass you by making it public. Talk to me, Addy. I want to help you.”
It was ridiculous, but he sounded as though he meant it. A part of her she’d strapped down for years wanted to believe him. “Why?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” he muttered, and brought his lips to hers.
Her initial struggle died on a moan. The passion she tasted was no less volatile than the passion she felt. His hands were in her hair, rough, possessive, as he dragged her head back for more freedom. For the first time she let her hands roam, search, linger over a man’s flesh. The need started out as a warmth in her stomach, then spread to a heat, then an ache, then a fire.
He knew it was madness to want her this way, to forget his priorities and sink into her. But she was all softness and strength, all trembles and demands. The scent radiating from the skin of her neck made his head spin as they tumbled onto the bed.
He forgot finesse and style in an explosion of desire. Whoever she was, whatever her secrets, he wanted her now more than he’d ever wanted before. He’d coveted diamonds for their inner fire, rubies for their arrogant flame, sapphires for their flash of blue heat. In Adrianne he found all the qualities he’d found before only in the gems he’d stolen.
She was small, agile. Her hair wound around him as they rolled on the bed, wrapping him in scent and texture. The taste of scotch lingered on her tongue, intoxicating. There was a desperation in her response that stripped his control layer by layer.
When he slipped his hand under her sweater to find her breast, full and soft, he felt her heart thundering under his palm.
It had never been like this. Year after year, time after time, she’d convinced herself it could never be like this. Not for her. For the first time she wanted completely, as a woman. To use and be used. As her body responded, struggling toward pleasure, arching toward release, the fear stabbed through.
She could see her mother’s face, wet with tears. And she could hear, muffled through her childish hands, her father’s groans of satisfaction.
“No!” The word ripped out of her as she shoved Philip away. “Don’t touch me. Don’t.”
In reflex he grabbed her wrists as she swung out at him. “Goddammit, Adrianne.” Fury had him dragging her against him, bitter accusations on his tongue. They died before they could be spoken. The tears trembling in her eyes were real, as was the terror behind them.
“All right, steady.” He gentled his grip and fought to keep his voice low. She was a roller coaster he still wasn’t certain he wanted to ride. “Stop,” he ordered when she continued to fight him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Just let me go.” Her throat was so tight even the whisper hurt. “Keep your hands off me.”
Temper rose again and had to be battled back. “I don’t attack women,” he said evenly. “I’d apologize if I’d read you wrong, but we both know I didn’t.”
“I’ve already told you I didn’t come here to sleep with you.” She jerked one hand free, then the other. “If you expect me to fall on my back just because you want to be entertained, you’re going to be disappointed.”
He drew away from her slowly. That was a measure of his own control. “Someone’s given you a bad time.”
“The simple fact is I’m not interested.” Before he could touch her again, she pushed herself off the bed and grabbed her bag.
“The simple fact is you’re afraid.” He, too, rose from the bed. He wouldn’t know until later that the sheets would smell of her and she would haunt him for the rest of the night. “Of me, I wonder, or yourself.”
Her hands weren’t steady when she lifted the strap to her shoulder. “A man’s ego is an unending fascination. Goodbye, Philip.”
“One more question, Adrianne.” She was at the door, but she stopped, tilting her head. “We’re alone here, no recorders. I’d like the truth for once, for myself. Personally. Are you involved in all this because of a man?”
She should have ignored him. She should have given him her coolest smile and walked out, leaving his question unanswered. She would ask herse
lf a dozen times why she didn’t. “Yes.” She saw her father as he’d looked striding down the wide, sunwashed halls, ignoring her mother’s tears and her own silent cries. “Yes, because of a man.”
The disappointment was deep and as ripe as his anger. “Is he threatening you? Blackmailing you?”
“That’s a total of three questions.” She found the strength to smile. “But I’ll tell you this, which is nothing but the truth. I’ve done what I’ve done by choice.” Remembering, she reached into her bag and drew out his jewelry case. On impulse she tossed it to him. “Honor among thieves, Philip. At least for today.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Darling, isn’t this glorious?” Lauren St. John swirled around the edge of the pool to kiss Adrianne’s cheek. She made certain the cameraman got her best side and used Adrianne’s body to block the fact that she’d put on five pounds since Thanksgiving. “Everything’s going so well, isn’t it?”
Adrianne lifted her iced margarita. “Right on schedule.” There were a hundred people, by invitation only, mingling on the pool terrace. Inside the ballroom were another fifty, who preferred air-conditioning to sea-swept breezes. She allowed herself one quick, wistful look at the beach before smiling back at Lauren. “It’s a lovely hotel, Lauren, and I’m sure this fashion show is going to be a huge success.”
“It already is. Why, the press alone’s worth a million. People’s here, of course. We’re getting a three-page spread. We have a good shot at the cover. Of course you know I did Good Morning America last week.”
“You looked wonderful.”
“So sweet of you.” Lauren pivoted toward a camera crew. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have champagne, dear? We’re serving the margaritas mostly for atmosphere.”
She imagined Laurens five-thousand-dollar Mexican peasant outfit was equally atmospheric. “This is fine.”
She scanned the crowd. There were dozens of people she knew, dozens more she recognized. The rich, the powerful, the famous. Members of the press were circling, documenting every pair of designer sunglasses. Guests had donned their best resort wear, from skimpy bikinis with gorgeous coverups to billowing silk skirts. No one had left her gems at home. Diamonds flashed, gold gleamed in the tropical sun. For two days the little island of Cozumel had become a thief’s paradise. If she’d been looking for the big score, Adrianne could have moved among them, plucking stones.
Not quite like picking wildflowers in a meadow, she mused. But close, close enough when one was an accepted member of their very exclusive club. Interpol undoubtedly had agents on the island. But she hadn’t spotted Philip. Thank God.
“I’ve heard the clothes are marvelous.” Playing her role, Adrianne tilted her head and smiled for a photographer.
“You shouldn’t have heard anything. The clothes are under tighter security than the crown jewels. The bigger the secret, the bigger the anticipation. What do you think of the idea of putting the runway right over the pool?”
“Marvelous.”
“Wait until you see the finale.” She leaned closer, whispering. “The swimsuit models are going to dive in.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I’d wanted to fill the pool with champagne, but Charlie wouldn’t hear of it. I did get a champagne fountain in the ballroom, though. And you must try the piñata later. Such a quaint custom. You.” She turned on a waitress. The charming smile flattened into a hard line. “You’re supposed to serve the drinks, not just stroll around with them.” Lauren turned back, smoothing her features into a smile. “Where was I? Oh, the piñata. When Charlie and I were down here last year, we went to a fiesta. All these sticky-fingered little brats were swinging a bat at a papier-máché donkey. After it breaks—”
“I know the game, Lauren.”
“Oh, well then. I thought I’d adapt the custom more to our tastes. I had this gorgeous parrot designed. It’s filled with some charming little pieces of faux jewelry. Should make a marvelous feature on Entertainment Tonight.”
Adrianne had to bite her lip at the image of the attending luminaries scrambling on the ground to scoop up glass baubles and beads. “Sounds like great fun.”
“That’s what we’re here for. I’m determined everyone remembers this benefit. I can recommend the buffet, though I’ve had nothing but trouble with the staff.” She waved cheerily to a group on the other side of the pool. “But, of course, they’re Mexican.”
Adrianne drank slowly and cooled her temper. “We’re in Mexico.”
“Yes, well, I can’t understand why they can’t make more of an effort to learn the language. Always muttering among themselves. Lazy too. You’ve no idea how difficult it is to keep them in line. But they will work cheap. Do let me know if you have any problem at all with the service. Christie darling, you look heavenly.” She sniffed as the leggy blonde strolled past. “What I could tell you about her.” Lauren added.
“I’m sure you must have a lot on your mind at the moment.” And if I don’t get away from you, Adrianne decided, I’m going to scream.
“Oh, you’ve no idea. No idea at all. How I envy you your quiet life. Still, I’m certain this is going to be the biggest and splashiest hotel opening of the year.”
Well aware that Lauren wouldn’t have understood her own pun, Adrianne nearly smiled.
“I hope I didn’t make a mistake by planning this as an afternoon event rather than an evening. Afternoons are so … casual.”
“Island life is casual.”
“Mmmm.” Lauren watched a hot young film star stroll past, wearing brief trunks and a sheen of suntan oil. “There’s something to be said for casual wear. I’ve heard he’s got tremendous endurance.”
“How’s Charlie?”
“What?” Lauren kept her eye on the young stud, “Fine, just fine. I confess, I’m nervous as a cat. It’s so important that this event be a smash.”
“It will be. You’re going to raise thousands of dollars for leukemia.”
“Hmm? Oh, that too.” Lauren shrugged one slim bare shoulder. “But naturally people aren’t here to think about some nasty disease. Too damn depressing. The important thing is just being here. Did I mention that the Duchess of York sent her personal regrets?”
“No.”
“It was a pity she couldn’t make it, but we have you for royalty.” She gave Adrianne’s arm an intimate squeeze. “Oh, I see Elizabeth. I must say hello. Enjoy, darling.”
“I will,” Adrianne murmured. “More than you know.”
People like the St. Johns didn’t change. Adrianne wandered behind a trumpet vine to sit in the sun and enjoy the music. A resort like El Grande certainly brought jobs to a troubled Mexican economy, just as the star-studded fashion show would earn funds for charity. For Lauren, and others like her, those benefits were accidental. Or worse, a springboard for their own ambitions.
The St Johns were concerned first with the St. Johns—money, status, fame. Adrianne sipped her drink and watched Lauren flutter around poolside.
She’d get her press, all right. More than she bargained for. Adrianne imagined the theft of Lauren’s diamond and ruby jewelry would make excellent copy.
“Are you playing Greta Garbo, or would you like some company?”
“Marjorie!” Flooded with genuine pleasure, Adrianne sprang up. The daughter of actor Michael Adams who’d been such a friend to her and Phoebe in Hollywood, Marjorie had become her friend after they had both broken away from the film world. “I had no idea you were coming.”
“Impulse.” The slender California-style blonde returned Adrianne’s embrace.
“Did Michael come with you? I haven’t seen him in over a year.”
“I’m sorry. Daddy couldn’t make it. He’s on location in Ontario of all places.” She glanced around and grinned. “Give me palm trees any day.”
“He never stops, does he? Give him my love when you see him.”
“Day after tomorrow I’m going up to spend Christmas with him.” Marjorie shook her hair back as
she settled onto a chaise. “Fruit juice,” she told a passing waiter. “A double.” She let out a long sigh. “Quite a zoo, isn’t it?”
“Don’t start.” But Adrianne grinned too. “So what are you doing here? You’ve never been one for haute couture.”
“A yen for the tropics—and for Keith Dixon.”
“Keith Dixon?”
“I know he’s an actor.” Marjorie lifted a hand. “That’s why I’ve been dragging my feet, but …”
“Is it serious?”
She turned the hand over to reveal a marquise-cut diamond. “You could say so.”
“Engaged.” When Marjorie put a finger to her lips, Adrianne lifted a brow but lowered her voice. “A secret? Does Michael know?”
“Knows and approves. The two of them get along so well, they hardly need me. It’s weird.”
“Weird that they get along?”
“Weird when I spent most of my life looking for friends and lovers Daddy wouldn’t approve of.”
Adrianne settled back. “Must have been exhausting.”
“It was. With Keith it’s been the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“So why the secret?”
“To avoid the gossip columns for a while. Anyway, it’s a secret for only a few more days. We’re going to be married on Christmas. I’d love it if you could be there. But I know how you feel about the holidays. Can you have dinner with us tonight, in the village?”
“I’d like that. He must make you happy,” she added. “You look wonderful, Marjorie.”
“I am better.” She pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of her linen skirt. They were the one vice she still allowed herself. “Sometimes I look back and I can’t believe what I put Daddy through, what I put myself through. I weigh a hundred twenty these days.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“I’ve kept a picture of myself, one of the newspaper shots from when I got out of the hospital three years ago. Eighty-two pounds. I looked like a ghoul.” She crossed long, shapely legs. “It reminds me I’m lucky to be alive.”
“I know Michael’s proud of you. The last time I saw him you were all he could talk about.”
