Stolen

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Stolen Page 4

by Julie Kenner


  “Of course.” He was too startled by the non sequitur to do anything but answer.

  “Until I see that necklace find its way home, it looks like you’ve got yourself a partner.” She smiled. “And I’m sticking to you like glue, mister.”

  * * *

  MEL PUT HER HANDS ON HER HIPS, determined not to let this guy out of her sight until that necklace was safe and sound with either Emily or Frances.

  He might really be a relative, but she didn’t trust him any further than she could throw him, and if he snatched the necklace, then Gramps was going to be up a creek. The cops might never realize he stole it in the first place, but she couldn’t bank on that. She needed everything squared away if she wanted to sleep at night without worrying about her grandfather.

  Besides, she wanted to go straight, and how could she really have a clean conscience unless she knew for certain that he hadn’t pocketed the thing? She couldn’t.

  Which meant that she intended to stay right by his side until he kept his word. Half a mil provided a lot of temptation. And although Kyle Radley might be gorgeous as sin, it was the “sin” part that concerned her. She’d known some pretty sexy con artists and thieves in her time. And she’d learned the hard way not to trust a pretty face.

  “All right,” she said, when his continued silence started to grate on her nerves. “Let’s get going.” She peeled off her latex gloves and shoved them into her fanny pack.

  “I don’t think so.”

  She lifted a brow in a gesture that she hoped was regal. “I don’t recall making that a question.”

  He studied her, and she pulled herself up to her full height, all five feet six inches, determined to make absolutely clear that she didn’t intend to broach any argument. “I told you. You’re not getting rid of me. Get used to the idea.”

  Apparently, either her words or her body language worked, because he finally gave one curt nod. “Fine. It’s not worth arguing about. We’ll go in the morning.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “Oh, right. Like I’m going to let you slip away for eight hours. We go now.”

  “It’s after midnight. No.”

  She exhaled. “Why the hell not? She’s got a butler, right? Just call ahead, we go over, give the necklace to him, we go home.”

  “Frances doesn’t know the necklace is missing. And I don’t want her to.”

  Well, she couldn’t argue with that. “So we go now, sneak inside, put the necklace back and get the hell out.”

  “She’s got a state-of-the-art alarm system. I installed it myself.”

  She almost asked him what he meant by that, then realized it didn’t matter. “I can get around it.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “Wanna bet?”

  “The morning,” he said. He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the door. “We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

  She squinted at him. “And in the meantime? We’re just going to hang out here until morning?”

  “Not here,” he said. “But we are going to be spending the night together.” His smile broadened and she saw amusement dancing in those deep-blue eyes. “It’s a long time until morning.” He took a step closer, and her pulse picked up tempo, his proximity firing her senses.

  He reached out, curled one strand of hair around his finger. “So tell me, sweetheart. Got any ideas about how we might pass the time?”

  CHAPTER 3

  MEL DREW IN A BREATH and willed her body not to react to his touch. She knew he was simply trying to get a rise out of her, and she didn’t intend to give him the satisfaction.

  Instead she was determined to match him measure for measure. She held out her hand and waited for him to take it. His fingers were firm and warm against hers, and when he gave a tiny squeeze she met his eyes.

  Time to head out into the world. Or at least out into the rest of the house.

  “I’m going to try to sneak us out. Just act casual. And if anyone sees us, let me do the talking.”

  She nodded. That was fine with her, although she frantically hoped no one would see them. She wasn’t wearing a sign that said, Hey, I’m a Thief! But neither was she dressed for one of Emily’s social occasions, either.

  He pulled open the door, then led her into the hallway of a house that rivaled any of those dumps Robin Leach showed off. From Emily’s bedroom on the third story, they headed down an impressive staircase with an ornately carved banister. Soft jazz and muted voices wafted up from the first floor. For just a moment, Mel imagined herself on a dance floor, twirling to the music, Kyle’s arms tight around her.

  She shook her head, cursing her own stupid romanticism. He was putting up with her because she’d foisted herself on him. That was all. Nothing more. And as soon as the necklace was safe and sound in Frances’s house, she’d probably never see Kyle Radley again.

  And that, she told herself, was a good thing.

  When they reached the second level, he splayed his hand across her back and steered her to the far side of the stairway. “Stay to the back,” he whispered. “We’re going to try and cut over to the service stairs without anyone down there noticing.”

  Fine by her. They took a few tentative steps in that direction, and just when Mel was certain they were home free, she heard footsteps on the stairs below. Kyle muttered a curse, and Mel knew that they’d been caught.

  She clutched his hand tighter. He might not be her knight in shining armor, but at the moment he was the best she had.

  Below them, Emily Radley glided across the second-floor landing. The Emily Radley. Former goddess of the silver screen and star of at least five of Mel’s absolute favorite classic movies. She’d known all along whose house she was in, of course. But until she was actually seeing Emily Radley in the flesh, the truth of her surroundings hadn’t fully hit home.

  Emily looked up and did a little Queen’s wave. “Kyle, darling. There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Sorry, Grandma,” he said, leading them down the stairs toward Emily. “I had to help out a friend.”

  “Sorry about my attire,” Mel said, desperate for the woman to know she didn’t always dress like this. “My, uh, car broke down near here, and I called Kyle on his cell phone and…” She trailed off, realizing she had no clue where to go from there.

  “I’m so sorry about your car troubles, Me—my dear.” She took Mel’s hand and squeezed, the gesture both friendly and supportive. “And you look perfectly lovely. Black is a very ‘in’ color.”

  Mel just nodded, unable to completely comprehend that a fashion maven had just given her jeans a thumbs-up.

  Miss Emily focused on Kyle, still keeping Mel’s hand in hers. “Did you ring Turner?”

  “I can handle it, Grandma.”

  “Turner?” Mel couldn’t help her curiosity. Kyle glared at her, but she just shrugged.

  “My chauffeur. He’s a mechanic, too, of course.”

  “I think I’m capable of changing a flat tire,” Kyle said.

  Miss Emily let go of Mel just long enough to pat Kyle’s cheek. “Of course you are, darling.” She turned back to Mel. “I thought I knew all of Kyle’s friends. You are…?”

  “Very pleased to meet you,” Mel said. She wasn’t about to give her real name, and now she scrambled to think of a fake one before Miss Emily asked her point blank.

  “Grandma, meet my friend Grace,” Kyle said, while Mel gaped at him. Grace? Where the heck did that come from? “Grace, my grandmother, Emily Radley.”

  Emily cupped Mel’s hand in her own, then patted her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grace. Have you two known each other long?”

  “Not really. You could say we stumbled across each other and just sort of hit it off.” She turned to Kyle, keeping her eyes wide and innocent. “Wouldn’t you say?”

  “That about sums it up.” He gripped her arm, his fingers tightening just above her elb
ow. As he pulled her back, Miss Emily tugged her forward. She felt like a tug-of-war rope, and she yanked hard, tugging her arm free from Kyle, all the while aiming a stern glare in his direction.

  He glared right back. “We really need to get going,” he said.

  “Oh, darlings, that’s such a pity. Can’t you even stay for one drink? Surely Grace’s car will wait.”

  “No, we—”

  “That would be great,” Mel said, interrupting. “We’d love to have one drink.”

  Kyle scowled, but Mel just shrugged. She did want to stay. She adored Emily Radley and under other circumstances she’d have given anything to be at one of her parties. Considering she’d never have the chance again, she might as well grab the opportunity and run with it.

  “We really should get your tire changed,” Kyle said, speaking slowly and distinctly, as if she were chronically stupid.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “The car’s not going anywhere.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Besides, I don’t have anyplace in particular to be until morning.”

  With that, of course, she knew she’d won that battle.

  And then, while he seethed, she flashed him her most innocent smile, knowing full well that right then he probably wanted to kill her.

  * * *

  HE WANTED TO KILL HER.

  What the hell was she doing? He was trying to escape and she was tossing them both right smack into the lion’s den.

  The woman was obviously delusional. Didn’t she realize that there were at least a dozen women down there determined to meddle in his love life? They were going to think she was the flavor of the week, and that was something he really didn’t want to deal with.

  Frowning, he followed Emily and Grace-the-mystery-woman down the stairs, and Kyle watched her move in step with his grandmother. She was graceful, athletic, with a slim waist and a firm rear. One arm was linked through Miss Emily’s as she carefully helped the older woman down the stairs.

  Kyle rolled his eyes. Their guest might be a thief, but Miss Emily was a con artist. She no more needed help maneuvering those stairs than an Olympic gymnast needed help walking a balance beam.

  “Now, Grace,” said Emily, as the women took another step down, “have we met?”

  Grace looked back over her shoulder at him, a tentative smile on her mouth. “No. I haven’t had the pleasure.”

  “Funny,” Emily said. “You just look so familiar to me.” She patted Grace’s arm. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve met now.”

  The women continued to chatter on—Kyle was frankly amazed that the girl knew so much about his grandmother—until they reached the ballroom. Emily caught the eye of the bandleader and lifted one finger. On cue, the orchestra began to play Kiss Me Quick, Melissa, and Grace clapped her hands, almost bouncing with the music.

  “Oh, my gosh! This is my favorite song. My grandfather and I used to dance to it when I was a little girl.” She turned to Emily with such excitement in her eyes that Kyle couldn’t help but smile. “And you were fabulous as Melissa. Stolen Kisses is one of my all-time favorite movies.”

  “It’s one of my favorites, too,” Emily said. “I taught Kyle how to dance to this tune. Remember, dear?”

  He grinned. “Oh, yes. I remember it well.” Actually, those dance lessons were one of his fondest memories. Though, frankly, all of the summers he’d spent with his grandmother had been special. A cherished respite from traipsing all over the globe with his diplomat parents.

  As the women beamed, he held out a hand for his grandmother. “For old-time’s sake,” he said.

  But she didn’t take his hand. Instead, she pressed Grace’s hand into his and then gave her a tiny push into his arms. “Not old times,” she said. “New memories. Show Grace what a wonderful dancer you are.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but the feel of the woman in his arms stayed his tongue. He did want to dance with her; at the moment, there was nothing else he’d rather do. And so he guided her to the floor, counting out time with the music as they twirled under the twinkling lights of the crystal chandelier.

  He closed his eyes, letting the melody carry them. Simply dancing.

  “Where’d you get Grace?” she finally asked.

  “To Catch A Thief,” he said simply.

  “Oh.” A pause, then. “That’s one of my favorite movies.”

  “Mine, too,” he admitted.

  They danced a few minutes more in silence.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her soft voice tickling his ear.

  “For what?”

  “For letting us come down here. For dancing.” She shrugged in his arms. “I mean, to be here. To meet your grandmother. I know you wanted to go, but—”

  “Hush,” he said, unable to help his smile. One moment she was tough as nails, the next she was a starstruck fan. Damn, but she amused the hell out of him. “I’m not mad anymore. Just stay quiet, listen to the music, and maybe I’ll forget I ever was.”

  She nodded, stiff at first, but then she relaxed, her body molding to his, her head resting on his shoulder. And as they glided over the dance floor Kyle let himself forget that he didn’t even know this woman, this thief. That his grandmother had ripped off his great-aunt. And that his business was about to crash and burn.

  No, right then all he wanted was to hold her, to feel her soft curves move against him and hear her little sighs of pleasure. She was vibrant and alive, and Kyle felt as if he’d stolen a little piece of heaven.

  And for as long as the song continued, he wasn’t about to give it back.

  * * *

  “YES, YES,” Emily said, whispering as she spoke into the phone. She was making the three-way call in the alcove just off the ballroom. She peered out toward the couple. “They’re here right now.”

  “And you think the plan is working?” Frances asked. “Already?”

  “They’re dancing,” Emily said, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. “And they look quite cozy.”

  “Of course it’s working,” Gregory said, his voice firm on the line. “I never doubted Emily for a second.”

  “I almost called her Melissa,” Emily confessed.

  “For Pete’s sake, Em,” Frances blurted. “Don’t screw this up for us.”

  Emily bit back her retort. For the sake of the kids she could be civil to her sister. “I’ll be careful,” she promised. “And you should expect them later on.”

  “In the middle of the night? Surely not. Kyle has better manners than to wake me.”

  “Wake you?” That was Gregory, sounding more than a little miffed. “My Melissa can get into your house without even breaking a sweat.”

  “We’re sure she can,” Emily said, playing peace-maker. “But since Frances will be retiring soon, it doesn’t matter. Frances, dear, check your jewelry box the minute you get up and let us know if they’ve returned the necklace.”

  “Roger,” Frances said, and Emily pictured her saluting.

  “Anything else to report?” Gregory asked.

  Emily considered telling him about Melissa’s revelation about the song. She could even picture him, all dapper and refined, letting a little girl stand on his polished shoes so he could teach her to dance. But in the end, she kept the image to herself, tucked away in her heart.

  “That’s it,” she said instead. “Here’s to success.”

  They repeated the rallying cry and then clicked off.

  And Emily went back into the ballroom to attend to her guests.

  * * *

  “NOW HOW DID YOU TWO MEET?”

  “It’s so nice to know that Kyle has a young lady friend.”

  “And what do you do, dear?”

  Mel’s glance bobbed from woman to woman as their comments swirled around her, becoming little more than a static-filled buzz in her ear. She’d been in heaven in his arms, ecstatic when she’d become a guest at a real Emily Radley party.

  Now, though, she saw the downside. The reason why Kyle had wanted to skip the party and
head straight out the backdoor.

  These women had an agenda, and as far as she could tell, she was now on the menu as a possible dish for Kyle.

  He’d known, of course, that the women were going to circle and attack. And that’s why he’d abandoned her after their dance. Payback.

  She smiled politely at the women, grateful none had yet noticed that she was entirely avoiding their questions.

  She raised her gaze over the sea of gray-and blue-haired heads and caught his eye, hoping her expression conveyed that he needed to get his rear back over there. Right that second.

  He held up a glass of champagne as though to ask, “Want some?” She sighed, then nodded. Champagne. Wine. Straight Scotch. Anything to help get through this little ordeal.

  The truth was, under normal circumstances, she might actually be enjoying this. After being raised by Gram and Gramps, she got along famously with the senior citizen set. But these were not normal circumstances.

  “Are you and Kyle dating, dear?”

  She started to concoct an answer, but fortunately the man himself eased up beside her and handed her a drink. Then he took her free hand and twined his fingers through hers. It was a casual gesture, but right then it seemed anything but. Not when his fingers were pressed against hers, firm but gentle. And not when he was looking down at her with that crooked smile and those dreamy eyes.

  “Now, Abby,” he said, sliding smoothly into the conversation. “You know I’m not dating anyone in particular right now.”

  Mel found herself almost sagging with relief from that tidbit of information. Ridiculous.

  The bespectacled woman just smiled and tapped the tip of her cane on the parquet floor in front of him. “I can hope.”

  “Ladies,” he said, hooking his arm through hers. “I’m afraid Grace and I really do need to get going.”

  Finally!“It was nice meeting all of you.”

  They said a few more goodbyes as they made their way to the front hall. Emily met them there and gave them each a quick kiss. “It was lovely to meet you, Grace. Now that we’ve met, please don’t be a stranger.”

 

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