Twice the Temptation (41 page)

 
He kept quiet all the way up the stairs and down the length of the north wing to the bedroom suite. That wasn’t good. It meant he wanted to yell about something, and he wanted privacy to do it. Hm. Maybe she should try taking off all her clothes. It had definitely thrown her off when he’d done it earlier. The problem this time was an unusual one—she had no idea what he was mad at.

 
The bedroom door clicked closed behind her. Feigning a yawn, she sat on the edge of the bed to pull off her shoes.

 
“You’re certain the cat toy was a gift from Shepherd?” he said into the silence.

 
“I’m sure.” She pulled off her emergency jeans and T-shirt and folded them, shoving them back under the nightstand before she slid beneath the soft, cool sheets again.

 
Rick still stood beside the bed. “So Shepherd was here, with one wall between him and all those gemstones.”

 
“One wall and a lot of high-tech security,” she returned.

 
“Then why didn’t you give Shepherd’s name to Larson? And why did you tell a Scotland Yard inspector that the toy was just a prank?”

 
“Itwas just a prank.” She curled onto her side. “He wanted me to know he was there. That’s why I left the lights on—I’d bet a Picasso that he was up on the exhibit hall roof when we got out there. My little gift to him.”

 
“What?”

 
She frowned up at him. “What what? So he made it past the outside motion sensors. He won’t get in—not
from the roof, unless he makes a lot of noise. He either wasn’t planning on it or he’d already given up. Otherwise he wouldn’t have started tripping the lights. He just wanted to pull me out of bed at two o—”

 
“A known cat burglar tripped our alarm system and is still on the premises. Even if you think he either can’t or won’t be able to pull off a robbery, I’m not certain it’s up to you to decide that. And as for you declaring it’s a prank and choosing to keep information about Shepherd’s probable location from a member of Scotland Yard who’s here for this very reason—you’re crossing the line, Samantha.” His frown deepened. “In my opinion, of course.”

 
Samantha blinked. She’d been raised a thief, but she figured she knew right from wrong. As far as she’d been concerned, Bryce was trying to push her buttons. The fact that he’d broken the law just by being on the property and that she should have reported him for that reason hadn’t even occurred to her.

 
Rick looked at her for a long moment. “No response?” he murmured, then turned around and headed back for the door.

 
“Where are you going?” she asked.

 
“To get Larson and pull a damned thief off my roof.”

 
Moving fast, Samantha scrambled across the bed and put herself between Rick and the door. “No, you’re not.”

 
“You really think you can stop me?”

 
With her standing there in nothing but her panties and him tall, angry, and fully clothed, she wasn’t so sure. One of her dad’s rules, though, had been never to let ’em see you sweat. “He’s gone by now,” she hedged.

 
“I’m going to check anyway. And Larson needs to know.”

 
“No.” She didn’t budge from blocking the door.

 
His fists clenched, but he didn’t move in on her. “You’d bloody well better tell me why I shouldn’t roust every police officer in the county.”

 
Shit. “Because Bryce is testingme . If the cops grab him before he tries anything more than hanging cat toys, it’s going to get out.”

 
“What’ll get out, exactly? That you made a preemptive strike?”

 
“That I had to call in reinforcements because I didn’t trust my own security setup.”

 
“Samantha—”

 
“I can’t. It’s my fault, Rick. If I was just…normal, then I’d say yes, call the cops. But I’m not normal, and I have to prove to both the good guys and the bad guys that I can do this. Do you get that?”

 
“I get it.”

 
“Right.”

 
“I get it,” he repeated more firmly. “But I think there has to be a point where you stop making things harder on yourself because of what you used to be.”

 
Well, he didn’t seem to be trying to bulldoze the door down any longer. “Can I get back into bed to continue this?” she asked. “Because it’s kind of cold out here.”

 
Richard’s gaze lowered to her bare breasts. They were spectacular, and he couldn’t help himself. “Yes, fine,” he returned stiffly, leading the way since she probably wouldn’t have left her guard station otherwise.

 
She jumped back into bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. “Okay, get in here. But first, that’s bullshit.”

 
Of course, she’d waited to say that until his shirt was halfway over his head. He finished yanking it off. “What’s bullshit—that you don’t have to compensate, or the ‘used to be’ part?”

 
“The compensating part. Because what I used to be is never going to go away. We met because of it.”

 
“We’re not still together because of it.” Kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his pants, he slid into bed beside her.

 
“Yes, we are. You get off on me being bad.” Her brow furrowed. “Or that I might be bad. And I still have people looking for me. Do you know how many jobs I pulled in the seven years before we met? I’m still wanted for those, Rick.”

 
“I know that. That’s why we take steps to—”

 
“And that’s not even what this is about,” she interrupted before he could finish saying that no one was going to arrest her for her past because he wouldn’t allow it. He had a hell of a lot of weight to throw around, and for her, he would do it.

 
“What’s it about, then? You covering for a former lover because you used to work in the same business?”

 
“Jerk. I’m with you. Because I’m with you, the people I used to know figure either that I’m stealing on the side and using our public relationship as a shield, or they figure that I’m unfairly living the good life. Either way, they’re going to try to hit you, and me. If I can’t prove that I’m capable of holding them off without calling for help, they’re going to keep hitting us. Now do you get it?”

 
He leaned on one elbow, facing her. “How many people did you know?”

 
Her mouth crimped. “Let’s just say that among us we’ve pulled every major job recorded over the last decade.”

 
Carefully he kept his expression relaxed. “And what percentage of those were yours, just so we can eliminate them from the total number?”

 
“Ones that made the news, probably eight percent. Major jobs, probably ten or fifteen percent. Really difficult jobs, probably sixty percent.”

 
She said it so matter-of-factly. He’d seen her work, and he knew that she was one of the best at what she did. But numbers-wise, the figures startled him. And scared the shit out of him—not because of the other people involved, but because every one of those jobs meant at least one person looking to arrest her. Or worse.

 
“Is that why you weren’t particularly excited about beginning your own security business? Because of the likelihood that anything you set up would be hit?”

 
“That’s one of the reasons.”

 
“What are some others?” he asked skeptically. Samantha the security pariah—no wonder she hadn’t wanted to discuss her business with him.

 
“Excitement. There isn’t much in keeping things safe.”

 
“Your adrenaline addiction.”

 
“Yep. See what you signed up for?”

 
She sounded tough, but he noted that she didn’t meet his gaze as she spoke. “I will admit,” he said slowly, reaching over to curl a strand of hair behind her ear, “that you and I are similar. We see something, and we go after it. At times, our methods aren’t even all that different.”

 
“Ah, you use glass cutters and lock picks when you take over businesses?”

 
“I use whatever information I can get my hands on. And the way I get my hands on that information isn’t always completely aboveboard. You know that.”

 
“My point is, I’m a bad bet, Rick. This is just the clearest example of why.”

 
“My ex-wife had an affair because I was more concerned with business than with whether she was happy or not.”

 
“Yeah, well, Patricia’s kind of a loony, so—”

 
“So we’re both bad bets, depending on how you look at things. I love you, Samantha, and you could have told me about Bryce, and about why you didn’t like installing alarm systems in Palm Beach.”

 
“I just want you to understand that as long as we’re together, you’re going to have cat burglars on your roof. If you don’t want that, then—”

 
He pulled her up against him, kissing her hard. “I want you,” he growled, turning onto his back and pulling her over him.

 
God, he always wanted her. It seemed the only time he could be sure that he had control of her, of the situation, was when he could make her moan and come at his command. The way she could slip in and out of shadows—touching her, holding her hand, being inside her, it was then he knew she was there, and she was real, and she was his.

 
Samantha pushed his hands away to press herself closer against him. They both lived such high-pressure lives; sex had become both a way for them to reassure one another that they were still partners, and a simple, explosive release of tension. As Samantha slipped a hand beneath the sheets to gently massage his balls and his cock, he moaned. Yes, it was definitely a release. And very, very satisfying.

 
“Mm, somebody’s happy,” she breathed, biting his left earlobe.

 
He pulled her hips across his, trying to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head as she shifted to grasp him more firmly. “I can only think of one thing that
could make me happier,” he returned, running his mouth along her throat.

 
“And what might that be?”

 
“Returning the favor.” Taking her shoulders, he flopped her over onto her back. His thighs beside her shoulder as she continued to stroke the length of him, Richard pulled her panties off and tossed them aside. He tugged her legs apart, drawing one of them beneath him so he could reach her with his mouth.

 
“It’s a good thing I’m bendy,” she rasped, jumping as he parted her folds with his fingers and caressed her with his tongue.

 
He chuckled against her. “A very good thing.”

 
Her fingers flexed around him. “Oh, God, that feels good,” she panted, her voice unsteady.

 
Richard found her sensitive nub and flicked it with his fingers. “This?”

 
She spasmed around his fingers, making a pleased, mewling sound. That alone was nearly enough to send him over, as well, especially with her clever hand on his cock. He fought back from the edge, his hard breathing mixing with her moans in the quiet evening.