Stolen

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Stolen Page 12

by Julie Kenner


  CHAPTER 9

  MEL KNELT in front of the safe and studied it. Just as Kyle had said, a Sentronic 3000 with an electronic lock. Nearly impenetrable for an amateur, but, fortunately, she was no amateur.

  She’d used the back of Kyle’s SUV to change out of her dress and into black jeans, a black turtleneck and a black utility vest. Now she patted the vest, looking for the digital scanner she’d rescued from the stash of equipment in her Santa Ana storage room—all officially put away for good, of course.

  She set it up, turned it on and went to work. Five seconds later the door to the safe swung open. She stepped back, grinning like a fiend. No doubt about it; she might be retired, but she still had the touch.

  Not, she corrected herself, that she wanted the touch. She was simply making an empirical observation about her own skills. That’s all. Nothing more.

  Quickly she gathered her things and then made her way back outside the house. As soon as she cleared the residence, she hit the stopwatch button on her wristwatch and checked the readout. All told, it had taken her less than fifteen minutes to get from the Jeep, into the house, into the safe and back out.

  Not too shabby for the control-group run. Now she just needed to make decent time with the real run. She was looking forward to the challenge, and right at the moment she was convinced she could do just about anything.

  Thirty minutes later she wasn’t feeling nearly as cocky.

  Kyle had turned the alarm system back on, and they’d started the process all over again. So far Mel was still outside. She’d been trying to circumvent the alarm system using every trick she knew and a few she was inventing as she went along.

  Nothing worked. Frankly, she was beginning to get ticked off. No, not beginning. She was ticked off. One hundred and ten percent.

  She made another pass at the alarm controls, trying to shut down the system without tripping the alarm. The configuration, though, was unusual, beyond state-of-the-art, and Mel had to give Kyle and Brent Brownie points even while she cursed them.

  She tried another approach, hoping to use radio frequencies as camouflage for her movements. It was a relatively new approach to burglary, and she felt confident it would work.

  It didn’t.

  Damn it all to hell.

  “You inside yet?”

  “Dammit, Kyle. Quit bothering me.”

  “Touchy, touchy.”

  She exhaled, then decided just to give it up. After an hour she knew she simply wasn’t going to be making progress here. “Hold on. I’m coming back to the van.”

  Half an hour later they were in his living room and she was pacing the floor. He stepped in front of her and she stopped, hands on hips. “What?”

  “Calm down. It’ll be okay.”

  “You’re not the one losing out on a performance bonus.”

  “True. But there is some good news. You told me you’re the best, right? And you couldn’t get in. So we know the system is sound.”

  “Not sound enough. Someone got in. There’s a flaw, and I can’t find it.”

  He rubbed his temples. “And if you can’t find it, I can’t fix it.”

  “The situation sucks, doesn’t it? You were just being nice so I wouldn’t feel bad for not being able to break in.”

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. I appreciate it.” She did, too. Only once before had she not made it into a house that she’d been casing. But that was years ago, back when she was still a novice. This incident was downright embarrassing.

  Or, rather, it would be if she was still interested in pursuing a career in the thieving arts. But she wasn’t, of course.

  She glanced over at him and caught him staring at the calendar. The days between now and August 12 were getting fewer and fewer.

  “We’ll figure it out,” she said.

  “We damn well better.”

  “I think our next step is for me to review the schematics.”

  He nodded. “They’re on the computer. I’ll print them out for you in the morning.” He slammed his fist onto the coffee table, the unexpected movement making her jump. “Damn Brent. What the hell does he think he’s doing just up and disappearing on me. The son of a bitch has left this hanging in my lap. He’s the one who designed the system. He should be here trying to figure out the problem.”

  He drew in a breath and she sat down next to him, taking his hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He exhaled, loud and long. “Don’t be. I’m glad you’re here. Hell, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I haven’t been that much help so far.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You have.”

  She smiled, her wounded pride at not being able to break in fading. They had to solve this riddle, true. But they weren’t going to solve it tonight. And right now she wanted to see him smile.

  She stepped back, then held out her hand for him. “Come on.

  “Come where?”

  “You’ll see,” she said. He stood and let her tug him into the kitchen.

  Curiosity showed on his face, but he didn’t ask, simply followed.

  “Sit.” She pointed to the table, and he pulled out a chair and sat.

  And then, while he watched, she went to the freezer and pulled out the gallon of ice cream she’d left there the day before.

  He just stared at her. “Ice cream?”

  “Don’t be absurd,” she said. “I’m much classier than that.” She opened the main part of the fridge and took out some toppings. “Ice cream with chocolate and strawberry sauce,” she said.

  His mouth curved just a bit, and she sensed victory. “What? No whipped cream?”

  She reached in and pulled out a can. “Believe me, I’ve got plenty.” She licked her lips, never letting her eyes leave his as she pitched her voice low. “Enough for ice cream…and anything else you might want to put it on.”

  That got his attention, and he watched as she carefully dished out perfectly formed balls, then drizzled chocolate over the top, garnishing the final product with a dash of strawberry goo. And then, of course, the whipped cream. She delivered it to him with flair.

  “Voilà.”

  “Thanks.”

  She settled herself beside him and waited for him to take a bite. Instead, though, he slowly lifted up his spoon and fed her the first taste of his own sundae. It was a simple gesture, but somehow just as erotic as his earlier intimate touches. She let the ice cream melt in her mouth as she thought about this man. Kyle Radley. Prince Charming. He was perfect, and in the end, when she had to walk away, it was going to hurt like hell.

  “What are you thinking about?” His eyes met hers, and she saw her desire reflected back.

  “Whipped cream,” she lied. “And you.”

  * * *

  IF KYLE WERE A BIGGER MAN, he would have told her to take her no-strings arrangement and go jump in a lake.

  But he wasn’t that strong. He wanted Mel any way he could have her, and if that meant having her in his bed until she bolted, well then, so be it.

  He knew she wanted him, too, with the same passionate ferocity that burned in his veins. And at least for as long as that craving filled their blood, then she was his.

  He intended to make the most of it, and now they were sitting naked in his bed, a can of whipped cream between them.

  “You really want to do this?” Her eyes were wide. “Your sheets—”

  “Are washable.” He took the bottle and squirted just a hint of cream onto her fingertip, then leaned over and sucked it off.

  She laughed.

  “What?”

  “You are such a wimp,” she said.

  He pretended to be indignant. “Watch it, lady, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

  “Give me that thing.” She held out her hand, demanding, and then, with a sultry little smile, she drew a line of whipped cream across her breasts. “Prove to me you’re not a wimp.”

  That was a challenge he was more than happy to accept. He
tossed her back onto the bed, his mouth closing over one breast. He teased and sucked until there was no more cream, just her nipple hard against his tongue and her soft moans sounding in his ear. He turned to her other breast and laved it clean, too. Then he sat up, smiled at her, and took the can away.

  “My turn,” he said.

  She nodded, silent, then watched as he drew a white cream path between her breasts, over her belly button, all the way down to the dark triangle between her thighs. Then he settled in, licking and sucking his way down to his prize. She was hot and wet, and he was as hard as steel. He wanted her desperately, and he eased between her legs.

  She shook her head, her lips parted, her eyes dark with desire. “Not yet,” she said, reaching down to stroke him. “I haven’t had dessert yet.”

  He almost lost it, but he held on to a shred of control. A shred that grew thinner and thinner as she ordered him to lie back, then smeared cream down the full length of his erection. His body was on fire, and from her sultry little grin, he was certain she knew exactly the effect she had on him.

  When she lowered her mouth and licked the tip of him, he thought he heard himself cry out.

  When she took him into her mouth, he knew he’d died and gone to heaven.

  But when she licked the full length of him like a lollipop, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to have her, and he rolled over, his body straddling hers, his breath hot and heavy, matching her own.

  “Now,” she whispered, and he didn’t hesitate. Just slipped inside and drove home. Over and over and over until finally the world exploded around them and he collapsed, sated, against her.

  They lay like that for a piece of eternity, until she made a little noise and moved.

  “What?” he asked as a thick blanket of exhaustion fell over him.

  She spooned against him, her breath caressing his neck. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m just very, very glad that I saved room for dessert.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, they’d awakened before dawn and had arrived in the office before eight. They’d worked straight through, ordering lunch in and eating at their desks. And now Kyle watched as Mel rested her head in her hand. It was almost 7:00 p.m., and the schematics for the Driskell alarm system were spread out on the desk in front of her. She tossed her pencil down on top of them.

  “Not going well?”

  She shot him a nasty look. “I’ve got nothing,” she said. “Absolutely nothing.” She exhaled loudly. “What about you?”

  “Not sure. I got the reports, but I need your help analyzing them.” He’d called in a favor from some cops and had gotten police reports for every burglary within the last twelve months in the Orange County area. The reports filled his briefcase, and he needed her help going through them to look for any indications of a similar MO.

  August 12 was bearing down, but the reports were portable, and the office was cramped and stuffy. Time for some fresh air and a new perspective.

  She rearranged the stacks on her desk. “Just pass me a stack and put them here. I’ll go through them right now.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he said, then held out his hand. “Come on.”

  She twisted around to look at him. “Come where?”

  “Out,” he said simply. For a moment he thought she’d argue, and so he brought out the big guns. “We can take another spin in the convertible.”

  When they’d left together that morning for the office, he’d surprised her by opening his garage door to reveal a Mercedes convertible. A bright-red beauty.

  Fifteen minutes later she was perched in the passenger seat, her hair loose in the breeze. She reached a hand up and caught it, twisting it into a knot and securing it with a clip.

  “Want me to put the top up?”

  “No, I don’t want you to put the top up. But I do want to know where we’re going. And why we’re going anywhere with dozens of reports to review.”

  Kyle just grinned and shook his head. “I told you. A surprise.”

  “Uh-huh.” A little grin played on her face, and he knew he was driving her nuts.

  “Do you trust me?”

  She licked her lips. “Should I trust you?”

  “Hell no.”

  She laughed. “Well, I guess I’m just a naive little female, then, because, actually, I do.”

  “Wise woman. Astute. With amazing insight into the character of others.”

  “Uh-huh. Quit buttering me up and drive. I’m dying of curiosity over here.”

  “Aye-aye.” He focused on the road while she leaned back in her seat, soaking up the setting sun and the sea-sprayed wind.

  He cast a sideways look toward her. She looked so beautiful, so happy. She’d inched her way into his life, and he was absolutely determined that she was going to stay. No two ways about it. He didn’t care if she’d once been a thief, didn’t care if that was some huge issue for her. They’d work it out. They had to because, dammit, he’d fallen in love.

  He took a deep breath, concentrating on the road, as he let the simple truth into his head once more: he’d fallen in love.

  This woman had filled his heart and his head, and he didn’t intend to let her walk away.

  Right now, though, he just wanted to be with her. Away from his family, away from the office, away from all his problems. Just him and Mel and the sand and the sea.

  He turned onto Moss from Pacific Coast Highway and started looking for a parking place, actually lucking out and finding one near the stairs. He eased in, killed the engine and turned to Mel. “We’re here.”

  She looked around. “Uh-huh.”

  “Trust me.” The area wasn’t much. Just a little neighborhood and a little street. But the beach below them was a treasure, and he intended to share it with her.

  “I told you,” she said, “I do.”

  The words were blithe, but spoken with such sincerity that they made his insides twist. He walked around the car, opened the door for her and then popped the tiny trunk and pulled out the cardboard box he’d shoved in earlier.

  “Mailing a package?”

  “Tru—”

  “I know. Trust you.”

  He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Come on.”

  They headed down the street to the staircase that led to the small beach. He stole a glance back at her and was delighted to see the smile on her face when she saw the view. When they hit the sand, he took her hand and led her to a little nook among the rocks. He put the box down and opened it, pulling out a large blanket. He spread it on the ground and gestured for her to sit down. Amusement danced on her lips, but she didn’t argue.

  Next out of the box was their dinner. He’d ordered from his favorite restaurant, and the staff had packaged it up for a picnic. An entire smorgasbord of delights, and he laid them out on the blanket in front of them.

  She plucked up a piece of baklava. “Wow.”

  “I brought the reports to review,” he said, tossing the folders into the middle of the blanket. “But I thought we might be more productive if we worked through dinner, and then took a little time off to enjoy the show.”

  “Show?”

  He gestured to the ocean. “Sunset,” he said.

  She took his hand and squeezed. “That sounds great.”

  He made a plate for her and they ate in silence until she turned to him, her eyes wide and wonderful. “Kyle, this is so special. What made you come up with this idea?” she asked.

  There was a vulnerability in the question, and he answered it with a touch, pressing a kiss to the pad of his own thumb and then stroking it along her cheek.

  “We’ve been working hard, and I thought we could use the break. And also because this has always been my favorite place to come and sit to watch the sunset. It’s beautiful here.” He shrugged, feeling a bit foolish and sentimental. “I wanted to share it with you.”

  Her eyes glistened, and she blinked, her teeth grazing her lower lip. Then she settled against him, her head on his sho
ulder. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t think anyone’s ever done anything so romantic for me.”

  He kissed the top of her head, unable to imagine that she didn’t have men falling at her feet, wanting to make her feel loved and cherished. Because right then he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would do anything, anything, to make this woman happy.

  “I want you, Melissa.” He’d said the words without thinking, and now he held his breath, feeling more vulnerable than he could ever remember.

  “Kyle,” she said, a teasing tone in her voice.

  “No.” He took her hands, waiting until she looked into his eyes. “I want you.”

  She got it. He could tell by the tiny bit of terror that flashed in her eyes. “Kyle, I—”

  “No. I don’t care about your past. I care about our future. We’re good together.”

  “Don’t do this, Kyle,” she begged. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and her expression cut his heart to shreds. “Please. You know how I feel.”

  Slowly he nodded. “All right, Mel. I won’t do this tonight. But I do know how you feel. You’ve told me over and over. So now I’m telling you.” He took a deep breath. “I want you, Mel. And I’m giving you fair warning. I know you think you can just walk away. Well, I don’t. And I intend to do my damnedest to make you change your mind.”

  She didn’t meet his eyes. “It won’t work,” she said.

  “Yes,” he said, “it will.” He’d never been so sure of anything in all his life. Because it had to work. Because the truth was, he didn’t want to live without Melissa Tanner. He wanted her. She wanted him. And some way or another Kyle intended to make sure that they got each other.

  * * *

  THE NEXT DAY, Mel and Kyle finished the last of the reports, then headed over to Miss Emily’s for lunch. It was a break they didn’t really have time for, but they were doing this to further the Gramps-and-Emily plan, and so they’d decided to make the time.

  Mel glanced at her watch. They’d already been there over an hour, and she was antsy to get back to work. The meal was slow going, though. Good, in that the molasses-like pace was the result of Gramps and Emily having a great time. Bad, in that time kept slipping away.

 

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