It Takes a Thief

by Kay Hooper

  "Then, when he met me ..."

  Skye laughed softly, "Yes, indeed. When he met you. Your own father was a gambler, and you were hardly likely to want to get involved with another one. But what could Dane tell you? That he wasn't a gambler? He is. In many ways, it isn't just a role anymore. After ten years as a professional, it can't be." He hesitated, then said seriously, "We've both protected that identity with half-truths and white lies for a decade. And he couldn't even tell you, because we made a promise to each other that we wouldn't, not while we were Involved in a Job. A promise both our lives have too often depended on. And Dane has never in his life broken a promise to anyone. It's been tearing him apart, Jennifer, not being able to explain to you."

  Jennifer. And Dane called her Jenny. Another clue she had unconsciously been aware of. She was silent for a moment, gazing at nothing. "Why have you told me this?" she said finally in a low voice. "Why not Dane?"

  "He doesn't know I'm telling you now. He would have told you tomorrow when it's all over and Kelly's in custody. But he wouldn't have told you what's going on In that room right now, and I think you should know."

  Jennifer stared at him. "I don't understand." But she thought that perhaps she did.

  "You talked to Dane about honor, didn't you?"

  "Yes."

  Skye nodded. "It shook him up, you know. You were asking the questions he's been asking himself these last years, and he wasn't sure of the answers. But I am." He paused, then spoke slowly. "I don't know about all twins, but with Dane and me . . . well, each of us has always understood the other more than himself. It's like looking into a mirror, except that what you see isn't a reflection of yourself, but another being entirely. And maybe because the surface is identical, we always see beneath."

  Jennifer nodded slowly. "It's hard for me to really understand, but I think I know what you mean."

  "Good. Then believe me when I say that I know Dane better than he knows himself. He's a good man, Jennifer, a better man than I am. He's honorable in ways most men have forgotten even exist. He hates lies, half-truths, deceptions. By nature, he's very open, and very honest. And he never breaks a promise."

  She nodded again, accepting it immediately. "That's what I thought, what I felt in him."

  "He's keeping a promise right now," Skye said softly. "A promise to you."

  Jennifer felt a sudden tightness in her throat. A promise to her . . . "Belle Retour?"

  "Yes. Dane's doing his best to win it back for you. And because he's doing it for you, the stakes are very personal this time. He's never done this before, played for personal stakes. That was always the distinction he made between playing a role, and becoming the role. It was always business, never personal. This time, he's crossing that line."

  She stared at Skye, emotions tangling inside her. "He wouldn't have told me?"

  Skye shook his head. "No. If he wins, he'll find a way to transfer the deed back to you and your mother, tell you that officials found a legal loophole or something. If he loses, he'll pull every string he can find, call in every favor owed, until somebody invents a loophole that does the trick. But he won't take the credit for it. Now or ever."

  "But why wouldn't he – " And then she stopped, realizing.

  "You see it, don't you? Dane won't ever tell you it was his doing because he loves you. He wants you to be happy, and it doesn't matter what he might lose himself. He'd never use that promise of his as a way to bind you to him. You'll have your home back, but you won't owe Dane anything for it." Skye smiled a bit wryly. "He hates debts."

  Jennifer sat staring down at her hands. She was only dimly aware of Skye moving, and looked up to find him sitting on a footstool at her knees and watching her gravely. How odd, she thought, to look at that face and know this wasn't Dane. And even more odd to realize that she would always know which of the identical men was Dane. Always. Just as she had instinctively known there was something different when this brother had appeared in her room tonight.

  And she understood the differences between the brothers. Loving Dane, she discovered that she Intuitively understood Skye as well with a knowledge that didn't require time. This man, of course, shared the natural physical strength that was Dane's, the innate charm and lazy grace. But where Dane was tranquil and controlled, Skye was restless and reckless. It was in his eyes, in the movements that were quicker than his brother's. She thought that Dane's mastery of poker had helped build his control, while Skye's "hunting in the dark" had earned him sharper reflexes.

  Dane was the lion, graceful in the sun; Skye was the tiger prowling at night.

  "Why did you tell me?" she asked Skye.

  "So you'd understand what you need to," he told her quietly. "Dane loves you. He loves you so much that he's willing to break all his rules for you. Rules he's managed not to break even during ten years of playing the part of an unscrupulous man. If he has to cheat to win your home back for you, then he will. If he has to risk everything he has, then he will. That's what you have to understand about Dane, Jennifer. When it comes to the happiness of someone he loves, there are no limits."

  She was silent for a moment, then said slowly, "He thinks I won't be able to accept a future with him, doesn't he?"

  Skye nodded. "Because his life won't be an easy one to share. This masquerade of ours works. As long as it continues to work, we're too damned effective as agents to turn our backs and walk away. And that means our lives are complicated. Sometimes dangerous. But, to us, the risk has always been outweighed by the good of what we were able to accomplish."

  "A risk I have to accept," she murmured.

  "If you love him, yes. He is what he is, Jennifer, what these last years have made him. We both are." He paused, then said, "He'll lose a little bit of himself in that room tonight. Breaking the rules does that, especially to a man like Dane. But the loss is worth it to him, because he loves you."

  Jennifer drew a shaky breath. "Aren't you afraid I'll say I love him out of gratitude, now that I know all this?"

  "No." His response was instant, certain. "You'd never offer any man a false love, because you're as honest as Dane is."

  After a moment, Skye rose and took her hand gently, pulling her to her feet. "Come on. I have to take you home. The game may go on for hours yet – and tomorrow's going to be very busy."

  "What will happen?" she asked almost absently.

  "Later in the morning, a roving squad of federal marshals is going to find that press out in the swamp. Garrett Kelly and his partner will be arrested on the charge of counterfeiting. He'll never connect Dane to the charges. The marshals will make it plain they received a tip weeks ago, and have been searching for the press."

  "So his cover – and yours – will remain intact?"

  "Yes."

  "Where will you go from here?"

  He looked down at her gravely. "I don't know. That depends on Dane. And on you."

  Jennifer stared up at him for a long moment. "I want to go back to the parlor," she said. "I have to see what's going on in there."

  Skye frowned. "Jennifer – "

  "I have to know. Did you expect me just to tamely leave, not knowing?"

  He hesitated, then swore softly.

  "There's another door in that room," she told him. "It was open, and it leads to a service corridor. We can watch from there, and they won't see us."

  After a moment, Skye said, "I want you to understand something. Dane doesn't like what he's doing in there. If it had been Dane playing against your father in the last poker game, you would never have lost your home. Dane wouldn't have accepted it as a stake. In twenty years of playing poker, he's never taken everything an opponent had. Even when he could have. Even when it was in his own best interest to do so." Flatly, Skye added, "Even when that opponent was a son of a bitch, and deserved it if anyone did."

  "Another rule he's breaking?" she asked softly.

  Skye's smile was crooked, but not quite Dane's, his charm a harder, rougher thing. "He loves you."


  "And I love him," she said in a steady voice.

  "All right," Skye said finally. "Then let's go watch a master at work."

  * * *

  The door to the service corridor was open far enough to give them a clear view of the table and both players, yet was far enough away and shadowed enough to prevent them from being seen. They reached it silently, and both almost immediately realized that the game was much nearer its conclusion than Skye had anticipated.

  On the green table was a pile of money, and a neat stack remained in front of Dane. Kelly's money formed a much smaller and quite untidy stack. Dane's cards were facedown, his hands relaxed on the table. Kelly clutched his with tight fingers that showed an occasional tremor.

  Jennifer watched, fascinated by Dane's utter stillness, by the tranquility he wore like an impenetrable cloak. His eyes were serene and without force.

  Kelly shoved the remainder of his cash into the pot, and Dane calmly matched it – and then raised the bet. Like a blind man, Kelly reached for a small pad of paper nearby, laying his cards down and beginning to scrawl something on the top sheet.

  "Wait."

  Looking at his opponent, Kelly blinked like a man in a feverish trance. "What?"

  "Before you throw another casual promise on the table," Dane said pleasantly, "it's time to redeem these." He picked up a stack of the small papers at his elbow. "I'm calling in your markers. Now."

  Kelly's eyes widened at the number of papers Dane held. "I-I can't right now. A few days, and my bank can – "

  Dane shook his head slightly. "Afraid not. I took the precaution of checking with your bank today. You'll forgive me, I'm sure; a man in my profession doesn't take stupid chances. Your bank account is empty."

  "I have other assets."

  "None to speak of. And these markers say you're indebted to me for half a million."

  Kelly paled. "That's impossible!"

  "Total them if you like." Dane's voice was Indifferent. "But that's what you'll get. I never make mistakes with numbers." He stacked the notes again and waited, his hands folded peacefully on the table.

  After staring down at his stacked cards for a moment, Kelly said hoarsely, "I have this place. The plantation. It's worth two or three million easy."

  "It's mortgaged," Dane said flatly. "You owe the bank half a million too."

  "The market value – "

  "Is depressed at the moment. You couldn't sell this place to a dumb billionaire with a fancy for ancestors."

  Kelly's desperation was an almost tactile thing, like fog hanging in the room, gray and wet. "It's worth a million at the very least," he insisted. "Hell, you could hock the contents of this house for that much!"

  Dane looked at him steadily for a long moment, then reached into the pocket of his jacket and drew out a piece of paper. "All right," he said slowly. "This is a cashier's check for half a million. You sign the plantation over to me for this check, and your markers."

  Kelly barely hesitated. "I will."

  "Then get the papers and wake up your butler and his wife. The transfer will be legally solid, or it's no deal. I want witnesses."

  Almost lurching to his feet, Kelly went over to the mantel and yanked on the old bell rope that was still connected to the servants' quarters. He tugged at it twice more before Mathews entered the room, dressed in pajamas and a robe and looking half asleep and considerably startled.

  "Sir?"

  Kelly explained what he wanted in a quick, rough voice, and within fifteen minutes a packet of papers was safely in Dane's pocket. Mathews and his wife retired to their quarters, bewildered but aware that Belle Retour now had a new master.

  With Dane's agreement, Kelly placed the check into the pot and drew out half a million in cash, making it easier for him to play out the hand; Dane still had a stack of money before him, and the betting wasn't over.

  Shakily, Kelly matched the last raise, adding ten thousand. Dane raised ten thousand, and silently turned his top card faceup. Kelly's eyes jerked toward it: the ace of spades. Swallowing, Kelly raised another ten thousand. Dane raised as well, and turned up the next card: the king of spades.

  Twice more, with both men raising, Dane turned his cards faceup. Before him lay a possible royal flush. He tapped the hole card lightly with his index finger, as he had before in this room, and Kelly's eyes were fixed on the lazy movement.

  "You've pulled that trick before," Kelly said hoarsely.

  "Yes," Dane agreed. "The question is: Is it a trick this time? Aces are wild. It could be an ace. It could be a ten. Or it could be a worthless card. You decide."

  Silently, Kelly raised.

  Dane matched his bet. And raised again.

  Kelly went still suddenly, his eyes skittering from the money he had left to Dane's remaining stake. And he realized then that it was over, that he had fallen blindly into a trap he couldn't escape. He had a hundred thousand left to bet. Dane had twice that much. There was no way for Kelly to win.

  "Stop while you've still got something left," Dane said softly.

  Kelly's shoulders slumped, then straightened slowly. And all three of those watching Kelly could almost see in his eyes the forced memory of that printing press hidden in the swamp. "I fold," he said heavily.

  No sign of triumph crossed Dane's face, and his voice was as calm as ever. "Wise of you."

  Nodding toward Dane's hole card, Kelly said, "I have to know."

  "It doesn't make a difference. I would have kept raising, and you couldn't have won."

  "I have to know."

  After a moment, Dane flipped over the card. It was the ace of hearts: a royal flush. Quietly, he said. "A trick only works once."

  Kelly's mouth twisted slightly. "I'll remember that." He sighed, then got to his feet. "All that cash is bulky. I'll go get something for you to put it in. And . . . and I'll be out of here within a week."

  "Fine." Dane remained motionless for a few moments after Kelly left, then one hand lifted to the nape of his neck and his eyes closed briefly.

  Jennifer felt herself being drawn back away from the door, and she allowed Skye to lead her quickly from the house. Outside, dawn was just breaking. They got into Skye's car, and the quiet engine hardly disturbed the silence.

  Halfway back to her house, Jennifer said suddenly, "Did you think Dane was bluffing?"

  "I've never been able to tell," Skye replied.

  She looked at him wonderingly. "Not even you?"

  "Not even me."

  The car pulled into her driveway a few moments later, and Jennifer hesitated before getting out. "The security guard," she said absently. "Why wasn't he around tonight?"

  Skye smiled faintly. "He likes to take a nap every night upstairs, while his boss is occupied with poker. Last night, there was a little something in his coffee to make sure he slept soundly."

  "That's what you checked on when you left me outside?"

  "Yes."

  She nodded, then said more intently, "I want to tell Dane about meeting you. All right?"

  "I was hoping you would." He laughed softly.

  Jennifer smiled at him, then got out of the car and closed the door. She didn't wait to watch him leave, but went immediately into the house. But she didn't remain there long. Less than fifteen minutes later, she was in her car and heading toward Lake Charles.

  Ten

  It was almost ten o'clock when Dane opened the door of his suite at the hotel, and he had never felt so weary. After leaving Belle Retour, he had driven into Lake Charles and waited at the bank holding the mortgage on the plantation. He wanted it settled, wanted Jennifer to have her home back again. He had waited until the bank opened, drinking cardboard-flavored coffee from a convenience store and pacing beside his car.

  His business with the bank had taken more time and interminable paperwork, but since he had taken the precaution earlier to transfer his own funds to this particular bank solidly to establish his credentials, there was less trouble than might have been expected.


  Now, all he wanted was to take a hot shower and change, and then go to Jennifer. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and fall into a bed with her, and not get up for a week. Or two.

  He hadn't gotten the chance to speak to Skye this morning, but he knew his brother would be alerting the proper officials and coordinating the arrest of Garrett Kelly. From behind the scenes, of course; Skye would make certain Kelly never caught a glimpse of him.

  "Good morning."

  About to lay the packet of papers on a table near the door, Dane swung around in surprise. "Jenny!"

  She was standing near the couch, watching him with grave eyes, so beautiful it almost stopped his heart. "I bribed a maid to get in here."

  He moved toward her slowly, unable to take his eyes off her. She looked so delicate, yet so womanly in a simple silk dress clinging to every curve, that he found it easy to forget the grim night behind him – and other grim nights – when he was with her. His chest felt tight suddenly, and he knew he was afraid. Afraid of losing her. Afraid that the secrets and demands of his life would be more than she could accept.

  Because he had to touch her, hold her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet, kissing her with a hunger that hadn't lessened. -Her arms wreathed up around his neck as she returned the kisses fervently.

  "God, I love you," he murmured.

  Her eyes gleamed up at him when he lowered her reluctantly to her feet. "I love you too. And those answers you were worried about haven't changed a damn thing."

  He went still, searching her face with a probing gaze.

  "I had a visitor around dawn this morning," she told him softly, smiling a little. "It was a bit of a shock. There I was totally convinced there was no one in the world like you – and then your mirror image shows up."

  Dane swore softly. "Jenny, I would have told you about Skye as soon as it was over – "

  "I know. I understand why you couldn't."

  "What did he tell you?" Dane asked warily, slightly surprised by her calm acceptance.