Red-Hot & Reckless. Tori CarringtonЧитать онлайн книгу.
as good as done. Since then, she’d had three days to do her homework. She knew there were three safes in the eight-bedroom Theisman mansion. One in the downstairs study. One in the master bathroom. And another cleverly hidden beneath the oriental carpet under a double bed in the third guest room.
She guessed that would be the hiding place of the over two hundred thousand in insured uncut rubies Mr. Theisman had bought as an anniversary gift for his trophy wife.
The question was whether the thieves had hit the safe yet.
She glanced at her slender faux-diamond watch, then accidentally spilled a bit of champagne on the front of her dress. Excusing herself from the small group of guests that conversed around her, she headed for the back of the house and the kitchen, rather than seeking out the bathroom just off the foyer. Within minutes she had her shoes in her hand and was slinking up the back stairwell, easily navigating the frenzied catering staff in the kitchen, and surmising that at least one of the original servers was missing. Her observation was immediately confirmed by the woman sweating over an oven when she asked if anyone had seen a man named Mike.
Nicole reached the second floor, thankful for vain wealthy homeowners who didn’t like to see the help unless they had to. She had access to every room upstairs without the risk of being seen. Dim, recessed lighting illuminated the long, curving hall bearing gold-framed prints of Baltimore. Worlds away from the water-stained dingy corridors of the Commodore Hotel. But somehow Nicole always felt safer in those dingy places. More…real, somehow. Less exposed. Although she’d long ago learned to blend in with any crowd, it took less effort to disappear into the background of the less privileged. The people who knew what it meant to struggle. They weren’t struggling to make a towering mortgage or work a sauna into their monthly budget. No, they were struggling for survival. And rarely looked beyond the few inches in front of them because they hoped somewhere there lay their salvation, the answer to all their problems.
Alex intruded on her thoughts again. He’d find it difficult to blend in anywhere. Aside from his considerable height and striking good looks, there was something…different about him, something Nicole couldn’t put her finger on. Something that bothered her on a fundamental level and had nothing to do with his likely being a cop. Something that made her want to return to the hotel that night instead of getting on the twelve o’clock train back to New York.
With the rubies, she thought, forcefully reminding herself of the reason she was there.
She ducked into the guest room across the hall from the one that held the third safe and pushed the door closed until it was just slightly ajar.
How long had it been since her mind had been on anything but the task at hand? If she had been considering which law enforcement agency Alex worked for, that would be one thing. Wondering what it would be like to run her tongue along the fine, freshly shaven line of his strong jaw was quite another.
A shadow.
Nicole reached for her purse with her left hand and took out the small-caliber pistol there. The only time that the saying “size doesn’t matter” applied was in the world of guns. As long as the wielder knew what she was doing, a peashooter was more than enough firepower to stop a stampede of bison. She thumbed the safety and watched a figure in a waiter’s uniform exit the master bedroom at the end of the hall, then move in her direction. She made a face. Either he was greedy and had gone after what trinkets the main safe held, or he hadn’t figured out that the rubies were most likely in the third safe. Which made him either wet behind the ears or a moron. Or a dangerous combination of both. While she could easily explain away her presence in the guest room—that very notably didn’t hold a safe—by saying she’d felt light-headed and needed to lie down for a moment, a man wearing a waiter’s uniform sneaking into the guest bedroom that did hold a safe was another matter altogether.
“And, lucky contestant, would you like to see the prize you’ll be playing for?” she murmured to herself. “Roddy, show him what he could win tonight….”
And that prize was what she fully planned to take away from him the instant he had the little beauties in hand and had successfully made his escape.
The thief glanced in her direction. Nicole moved back a couple of inches to keep from being seen.
And found her backside flush against something very hard, very warm and very definitely male.
“Oh!” She gasped, feeling every panic alarm go off all at once.
“MMM. THE CONTESTANT’S very lucky, indeed,” Alex murmured against Nicole’s ear.
The scent of cinnamon candy, subtle yet distinctive, teased his nose, while certain strategic areas teased other parts of his anatomy.
Damn, but she smelled good. Clean, spicy and overwhelmingly sexy. Alex couldn’t resist resting his chin against the hair curving against the side of Nicole’s neck as he steadied her with his hands on her hips.
“Seems we keep bumping into each other,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The touch of nerves humming just below the surface made it sound like a purr. He idly wondered if she might be part cat. Such feline characteristics would be an advantage in her chosen profession. One had to be light on her feet to be successful in this business. And, of course, it didn’t hurt to have an extra life or two in case you lost one along the way.
He skimmed his fingers down her bare arm, feeling her shiver against him as he eased the small, customized pistol she held from her warm fingers. He looked at it. “Cute.”
He heard her swallow. “Effective.”
He chuckled quietly, keeping in mind that the other thief they were watching thought he was alone on the second floor. “Only if you draw a bead on your opponent before he draws one on you.”
“Mmm. Yes, that does help.”
Was it possible she’d sensed his identity straight off? Or was it the sound of his voice that had given him away? Either way, he was pretty sure she knew who he was.
He also noticed that she was regaining her composure with each second that passed. He slid the palm-size gun into his tux jacket. She wriggled to free herself from the grasp of his other hand.
“Shh.” He tightened his hold on her hip, then pressed his mouth against her ear. “Hold still or we’ll miss the show.”
Alex watched over her shoulder as the thief entered the third guest bedroom and closed the door after himself.
For long moments he stood still, listening to Nicole’s uneven breathing, taking in her unique scent, and wondering where in the hell she’d gotten the blond wig. It had taken him a full minute to realize that it was her after her transformation. She’d disappeared into a restaurant bathroom then emerged a short time later looking like she did now, her usual attire presumably tucked into her black tote. A tote she’d cleverly hidden in the bushes of a neighboring house before joining the Theisman party.
“The show appears to be over,” she murmured.
Alex slowly blinked, realizing he had yet to release her. And that she had yet to make another move to free herself. “Depends on which show you’re referring to.”
He glanced down at the pale expanse of shoulder left bare by her black dress. The moonlight streaming in through the window kissed her skin, making it glow dimly while the rest was cloaked in shadow.
“How long do you give him?” he asked, drawing the back of his index finger up her arm. She didn’t shiver this time, but she did shift, moving until her hot little bottom pressed more insistently against the front of his slacks. He sensed the move was far from accidental.
“If he’s good, five minutes.”
“And if he’s not?”
“Enough time to hang himself.”
Alex grinned. “Of course it helps when the lady of the manor gives you the combination to the safe.”
Nicole stepped away then faced him, staring at him in the dark.