by Leslie Kelly
Again, though, when he opened his mouth, Lula Mae pointed an index finger at him and shook her head.
Maybe the old woman was right. Jade cared about him. He knew she did. He’d even go so far as to say he believed she was falling in love with him, as he was with her.
But she’d only known him a little over a week. She didn’t entirely trust him yet, as evidenced by the way she was so evasive about her “treasure hunt.” She’d already proven she was a woman who didn’t like being told what to do. If he confronted her and demanded that she give up this crazy Robin Hood lifestyle of hers, she might become furious and have the opposite reaction.
She could run from him, from them, and get herself into even more trouble.
Which meant there was only one thing he could do. Stick to her like glue and save Jade from herself.
JADE LIKED NEW YORK. Even though her heart belonged in the South, she could appreciate the big thriving city that pulsed with life and excitement. What wasn’t to love about a place that could turn its seediest areas into major tourist attractions? Savannah with its River Walk. New Orleans with Bourbon Street. And New York City with Times Square.
They’d all adopted a take-charge attitude to overcome the past. They’d charged freely into the future, making a delight out of what had once been looked down upon. Kind of reminded her of some people she knew. Like herself.
Ryan was an incredibly attentive host. He rarely left her side the first two days, insisting he could do his work from home. He also wanted to accompany her wherever she went.
Funny, it was as if he was really afraid to leave her alone. She found herself touched by the protectiveness, since Jade had pretty much looked after herself from the time she was a kid. But she wasn’t used to it, and finally told him one morning that she was going to meet her sister for breakfast, alone, whether he liked it or not.
“I don’t like it,” he grumbled as he leaned against his dresser, arms crossed in front of his chest.
She didn’t look away from the mirror as she calmly continued to apply her makeup. “But—”
“But I know you have to leave and you’re a big girl and you won’t get lost and the Big Bad Wolf isn’t going to gobble you up while you’re walking down Fifth Avenue,” he admitted.
“Correct,” she replied after he rattled off the arguments she’d used with him moments before. “Now, I still haven’t gotten a call back from Richard Brewer, the man I’ve been trying to see. I thought I’d have heard from him by now. Please take a message if he calls, okay?”
He merely shrugged, then got back to her day-trip. “You’re just going for breakfast, right? You should take cabs there and right back so you don’t get lost. This is a big city.”
She slid some mascara over her lashes. “I’ve been in big cities before.”
“You’ll go straight to the restaurant and straight back?”
She closed the tube of mascara and rolled her eyes. “You bet.” She finished up her lipstick, ran the brush through her hair one more time, then grabbed her purse. “Now, Mr. Overprotective, may I please go have breakfast with my sister?”
He lowered his eyes. “I’m being a caveman, huh?”
“Nah. Just a worrier.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her still so he could stare into her face. “I don’t want anything happening to you. I don’t want you to get into any trouble.”
She quirked a brow. “Spoken like a man who stripped naked in a garden for a complete stranger just a couple of weeks ago.”
“I think you hexed me,” he replied. “Used some of Lula Mae’s juju on me.”
“You’ve been reading The Book again, haven’t you?”
“Nope. Just wondering how on earth I left this apartment two weeks ago convinced I’d be a bachelor for a long, long time, and now I can’t picture my world without you in it.”
Jade froze, waiting for a funny remark, an offhand wink or something that would indicate Ryan was just playing around. He didn’t laugh, didn’t wink, didn’t lighten the moment in any way. He merely stared at her with an intense, honest gaze that made his green eyes shine even brighter and made her heart thud in her chest.
Didn’t most people think it took time to fall in love, time to decide when you’d found the person you wanted to spend your life with? Jade knew better. She was a Dupré, after all. The tendency to love fast and love hard was in her blood.
Fortunately, she was also a Maguire. Which meant she was like her father—emotional, deeply loyal, a believer in loving with her whole heart and holding back nothing. The kind of person who’d love only once. For a lifetime.
She also knew now that she was in love with Ryan Stoddard. She just hadn’t been ready to admit it, nor did she think he was ready to hear it, much less that he was feeling the same way.
So his words came as something of a shock. “Ryan—”
“Come back soon, Jade,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, as if he recognized the door he’d opened with his words. “Promise.”
Okay, he wasn’t ready to talk. Neither was she, really. But just the things they’d hinted at had filled her mind with the most wonderful visions of a future for them, something she hadn’t really dared think about before.
Giving him a soft kiss on the lips, she nodded. “I will.”
Leaving his plush building, complete with uniformed doorman, Jade thought again about Ryan’s background. They’d never talked about it, but there was no question the man had money. That could be an obstacle.
So could geography. Jade liked New York, but she didn’t want to live here. She hated the thought of leaving Savannah.
“He’s worth it,” she whispered, drawing a stare from someone walking past her on the sidewalk.
The stranger, a young woman carrying a ton of shopping bags, paused, then gave her a broad, New York smile. “If he puts that look on your face, lady, he’s definitely worth it!”
Good lord, even strangers were commenting on her love life. But she couldn’t help smiling back.
When she reached the restaurant where Jenny worked, she sat in a booth and waited for her sister to show up. She didn’t know why Jenny wanted to meet here. Jade would have figured she’d want to stay as far away as possible from her place of employment on her day off. But there was no second-guessing Jenny’s motives about anything.
“You really are here!” her sister said when she arrived, bending down and giving Jade a kiss on the cheek. “I hadn’t expected to see you for months. I’m so excited. But why aren’t you staying with me? How long will you be in town?”
As usual, Jade found it hard to get a word in edgewise. When Jenny stopped for breath, Jade said, “Nice to see you, too. I’m here on business. I don’t know how long I’ll be around. And we have to talk.”
Jenny’s pretty face immediately pulled into the pretty pout that had always helped her get her way. “Am I in trouble?”
“That depends on your definition of trouble,” Jade said dryly. “But you’re certainly high on my shit-list right now.”
Jenny’s brows shot up. Jade had been mothering her sister for so long, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d really argued. Jenny was probably also shocked that Jade had actually used a swear word—in public, no less. Jade had played the responsible one for so long, she’d seldom voiced her true feelings and emotions out loud.
Not until Ryan, anyway.
The last time she’d really erupted at her sister was probably when Jenny had decided to move to New York without a job or more than a hundred bucks. And Jade had informed her she was “out of her effing mind.”
Jade had to hand it to her. Jenny wasn’t starving. In fact, she looked just beautiful. Now, if only she’d grow up emotionally…
“Why are you mad at me?” Jenny asked, leaning close as if afraid to be overheard.
Jade quickly confronted her about the Ryan situation.
“I already told you on the phone I might have exaggerated.”
&
nbsp; “Might?”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Okay, I did. Big deal. He was hot and I was ticked off that he never asked me out. Just that lunch, which was more like an interrogation anyway.”
Confused, Jade said, “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. He just asked a lot of questions about where I was from and what I did for a living, when what I really wanted him to ask was how soon I could get naked with him.”
“That’s my prerogative,” Jade said, her jaw tight.
Jenny didn’t say anything for a minute. Then her mouth fell open. “Holy crap, is that why you’re asking all these questions? Are you involved with him?”
All around them were chattering people ordering their omelets over the din of clanking dishes, and some guy was up on stage massacring a song from Phantom of the Opera. Jade still shot her sister a look that said “shut up” before replying. “I am. And I wanted to let you know it, face-to-face, just in case you have any leftover feelings or problems with it.”
Jenny merely smiled. “No problem. He’s too old for me anyway. And I’m infatuated with this new dancer at the studio. Man, if only he weren’t gay.”
“Oh, boy, that’s a tough road to go down.”
Jenny reached across the table and grabbed Jade’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so happy for you. It’s about time. If Ryan is what put this…this…glow around you, then I’ll love him for always.”
Jade quirked a brow.
“As a brother,” Jenny said with a cheeky grin.
They clinked their coffee mugs together, then Jenny instantly hit Jade with a barrage of questions. Jade updated her on Lula Mae, and on their mother—whom they’d only heard from once since she’d left on her three-week honeymoon cruise in the Mediterranean. Fortunately, when Jenny zeroed in on Jade’s relationship with Ryan, demanding details on how and where they’d met, Jade was literally saved by the bell—her phone.
“Sorry, I forgot to turn it off,” she said, hating people who had loud cell phone conversations in public places. She planned to ignore it, at least until she saw the name of the person calling her. “Oh, no, do you mind? I’ve been trying to set up a meeting with this man. He e-mailed and said I could come one day this week, but I’ve never gotten a phone call confirming.”
Jenny waved her off, probably completely oblivious to the rudeness Jade was trying so hard to avoid. Her little sister was completely occupied with picking the mushrooms out of her omelet. Same old Jenny—liked the flavor, not the texture, so she always ordered the things, then picked them out of whatever she was eating.
Jade had a quick conversation with Mr. Brewer, the man who now owned the famous Harrison dueling pistols. She’d been investigating the disappearance of the flintlocks for a long time, using her Internet resources to track them down. She’d expected it to be tough. Paintings were so much easier. But this particular set was so distinctive it had been mentioned in an old Savannah newspaper article as the finest pair of pistols in the state of Georgia. With the accompanying description, it hadn’t been too tough to find Mr. Brewer through the gun collectors’ circuit.
Jade had sent the gentleman a copy of the article, not to mention a lot of other background information, right down to the manufacturer of the pistols. So Brewer probably had a darn good idea why Jade wanted to see him.
Things would go one of two ways. Either he’d listen with interest, tell her it wasn’t his problem that he had something that had been stolen a century and a half ago, and invite her out. There wasn’t much the Historical Society could do in that case, and most people knew it.
Or, he could be like the nice old lady in upstate New York who’d returned the Impressionist painting just last month. He might immediately donate the stolen item, trying to right an injustice of the past.
She wondered which this Mr. Brewer would do. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to wonder for long. The man lived not too far from Ryan’s place, and he was open to a visit that very morning.
Though she’d promised Ryan she’d only go out for breakfast, she had time for a quick detour. Besides, once she got this business taken care of, she’d feel much more comfortable settling in for a few days’ vacation.
Then, if she had her way, they’d never leave Ryan’s apartment—or his bedroom—during the little time they had left. And maybe they’d get around to finishing that conversation they’d started this morning.
12
RYAN DIDN’T REALLY START TO worry until three hours after Jade’s departure. Though he hadn’t liked her going, he’d known she wanted to see her sister and hadn’t been able to come up with a single good reason why she shouldn’t.
He could have told her it was because he was afraid she’d make a side trip to steal, but didn’t think she’d like that too much.
Until Jade confronted her sister over her lies about him, he certainly couldn’t go with her. So he’d finally had to back down.
“They’re just talking,” he told himself. Given his firsthand knowledge of Jenny’s gabbiness—which had driven him nuts from the moment they’d met—he’d expected Jade to be gone a while. But not this long.
Staring at the clock again, he smothered a groan. How could he focus on the article, which he was writing on the computer in his spare room? Or deal with the ton of e-mail, or check up on his day job? He couldn’t keep his attention on any of it until he knew for sure Jade was okay—not in jail, or facing the end of an angry gun collector’s pistol.
He shouldn’t have let her leave. Lula Mae had warned him, plus his own instincts had been screaming at him. Not just to keep her in sight, but to confront her and get this business out in the open once and for all. But he’d hesitated, for what he now recognized were primarily selfish reasons.
Fact was, he didn’t want to risk losing her. Didn’t want to upset the tenuous balance of their new relationship. Didn’t want her to walk out of here with a look of disgust on her face when she found out he was a liar.
Didn’t want her to see a trace of dismay on his own face when she admitted she was a thief.
“Damn,” he muttered, getting up again and prowling around his apartment.
It was while on the prowl that he thought to pick up the phone and call her on her cell. The double-fast dial tone told him he had a message.
Uh-oh.
Calling in to check the message, he cursed the twenty minutes he’d taken to grab a shower because during that time, two calls had come in. The first from Jade’s potential victim, Mr. Brewer. He’d left a number, then said he would try to reach Jade on her cell phone.
“Oh, great.”
The second call had come ten minutes later. From Jade.
“No, no, no,” he muttered aloud as he listened to her soft voice with that underlying hint of Southern smoothness she hadn’t completely eradicated. Brewer had tracked her down. She was going to see him.
After slamming down the phone, Ryan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “She promised!”
In her message, she’d apologized for breaking that promise, tempting him by saying she wanted to get her business out of the way so she could devote every minute of the next few days to him. To them.
Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be a next few days if she wound up in jail. Or hurt.
Thinking quickly, Ryan hurried into his office and pulled up a familiar Web site on his computer. Doing a reverse check on the phone number, he found the address for a Mr. Richard Brewer. Not believing his good luck, he realized the man lived only a short cab ride away.
Without giving it another thought, he left his apartment. Jade’s days as a thief were over, starting now. Even if he had to steal the stupid guns back from her and return them to their owner, he was going to end this dangerous game she was playing.
Then he was going to see to it she was much too busy to play games with anybody but him.
MR. BREWER WAS A frail-looking old man, but he had a sharp-eyed stare that belied his slow movements. Jade sensed he’d been a business s
hark in his younger days. A widower, he lived in an apartment overlooking Central Park, so he’d likely been a successful shark. She figured he could afford to part with the flintlocks, at least financially.
When Jade had arrived, he’d played gracious host, serving her some iced tea before inviting her to join him in his beautifully decorated living room. He’d then spoken at length about his ancestor, an honored colonel in the Union army. His every word reinforced Jade’s certainty that he did not even want to consider the idea that the flintlocks had been stolen.
But to Jade’s surprise, he didn’t seem perturbed at the idea of parting with them. He seemed more upset by the idea that his great-great-great-uncle might have looted them from a house in Savannah.
She had to tread very carefully.
“Well, of course, we have no way of knowing how they came into the possession of Colonel Samuels, your ancestor. Perhaps he won them in a game of cards, or took them as payment from another Union officer who was responsible for the original theft.”
That appeared to mollify him a bit.
“Perhaps. Do you have any children, Ms. Maguire?”
She shook her head. “No. I hope to, someday.”
Then she thought of one more thing she and Ryan needed to discuss someday.
“My grandchildren come to visit all the time,” he said as he freshened her tea. “My daughter hates guns, doesn’t want her kids anywhere near them.”
“Understandable,” she said, bringing the glass to her lips. Horrid stuff, made with nasty-tasting powder. Then again, even freshly brewed tea tasted bad to Jade if it came from anywhere north of the Mason-Dixon line.
Mr. Brewer sat across from her, fixing his blue-eyed stare on her face. “I was thinking of selling the things. That’s why I contacted an antique gun association to try to get more information on their worth.”
Jade groaned inwardly. He’d been researching the value of the pistols. No way would she be able to offer him the kind of dollar figure they’d command at auction or private sale. Heck, she couldn’t offer him any money at all.
