Entrapment. Kylie Brant
indicated the other plate. “You should eat something.”
“I don’t think so. There’s something about blackmail that affects my appetite.”
He considered her words as he tipped the glass to his lips. That first scalding slide of Scotch burned a path down his throat and pooled warmly in his belly. The second dimmed the throbbing in his thigh, just a fraction. “Blackmail? That’s an ugly word for a mutually beneficial business arrangement.”
She gave a sharp laugh. “Is that what it’s called these days? You kidnap my grandmother—yes,” she stabbed a finger toward him when he opened his mouth to protest. “You can’t pretty it up. You threaten her well-being in exchange for my cooperation. Not to mention the fact that you still have something that belongs to me.”
That last statement had him choking on his first forkful of eggs. “If you’re talking about the necklace, need I remind you that you stole it?”
“That’s right, I stole it. I did the research, paid the expenses, figured the risks. Do you have any idea of the hours of practice I put in on that job?”
Color had risen in her cheeks. Sam watched her as he bit into a piece of bacon. Chauvinistically, he decided she was a woman who looked good with a storm in her eyes. He was intelligent enough not to tell her so. “I could see that. As a matter of fact, I’ve never watched anything like it.” There had been something sensuous about the graceful contortions she’d undergone to dodge the laser beams. Just the memory was enough to heat his system much the way the Scotch had.
Deliberately, he pushed the mental picture aside. “It’s that kind of attention to detail that we’ll need on this effort.”
She was silent for a moment, contemplating the ivory piece she’d set down on a nearby Chippendale table. Even from this distance he could tell the figure was quite old, a carving of some sort of pagan god. He wondered if it meant something special to her. It was useless to consider. It had nothing to do with his assignment. But after months of putting this job together, months of piecing together the puzzle that was Juliette Morrow, it was difficult to turn off that level of inquiry. He knew what she was, how she operated. It was natural to question why she chose the life she did.
But it was dangerous to begin caring about the answers.
“Before we go any further, we need to get some terms clear.”
His brow raised at her cool tone. After taking another bite of eggs and washing it down with Scotch, he said, “And they are?”
“You threatened to send my grandmother to prison. That’s ludicrous. She’s an eighty-year-old woman with a heart condition. My cooperation depends upon her immediate release. She’ll leave the country if you want. I can’t concentrate if I’m worrying about her, as well.”
“I’ll alleviate that worry in any way I can, but she’s going to remain in Paris. Somehow I think her presence nearby will ensure your cooperation, rather than provide a distraction. And as it happens, I believe we can build a strong case that your grandmother has been your accomplice all these years.”
If he hadn’t been watching her so carefully, he would have missed her reaction to his words. Her mouth trembled for an instant, just one, before she firmed it.
Sam took another sip of Scotch and pushed aside a niggling feeling that felt suspiciously like guilt. He’d done worse things during his years on the job than to play on a woman’s love for her grandmother. And God knew, Juliette had done worse things herself. So he wasn’t going to regret the actions he’d taken to ensure her cooperation. Not any of them.
At any rate, she bounced back admirably. With an edge to her voice she demanded, “Then I demand that I be able to see her. Talk to her.”
That he could grant her. “I’ll take you to her later. What else?”
Juliette’s gaze turned speculative. “If I’m successful with this job you have in mind, I want the necklace back.”
“Most would think my destroying the file on you would be reward enough.”
“Oh, you’ll do that, too.” Her tone was grim.
“Yes.” He looked her squarely in the eye. “I will.” She couldn’t be certain that he’d do any such thing, and she’d be a fool to trust him. He knew she wasn’t a fool. But he hoped during their time together she’d discover that he was a man of his word. He had every intention of doing exactly as he promised.
Sam looked down, half-surprised to find that he’d finished the eggs and both sides of bacon. He leaned forward and found a plate of potatoes and started in on them. Some might have a problem with the messy deals that were required in order to preserve national security. It had always seemed simple enough to him. Life was a series of tradeoffs. In return for the landing of Oppenheimer, a threat of international magnitude, Juliette Morrow would be free to adopt a new identity. To continue her life selecting targets and robbing them of their valuables until she was inevitably caught. Inevitably tried. Inevitably found guilty. The ends justified these particular means.
But it was telling that it wasn’t the choices he made that bothered him at the moment. It was the thought of Juliette spending a couple of decades in prison.
“The necklace,” she prompted.
“Yes, the necklace.” Her words served to jolt him back to reality in a way nothing else could. It was the prize that was important to her. He needed to remember that, rather than wasting any regret over her eventual end. They all made their choices. She’d have to live with hers.
“As it happens, that necklace is insured by Oppenheimer’s own insurance company.” He spoke in between bites of potatoes. “It suits my purposes to have one of his holdings take a hit this large. And it doesn’t much matter to me that he’s lost another prized possession. So it’s possible that I could be persuaded to part with it. We’ll call it a bonus, if I’m satisfied with this job’s outcome.”
Juliette said nothing in reply. She’d seen the way his eyes had cooled, heard the censure in his words. An explanation was on the tip of her tongue, and stubbornly she swallowed it. She didn’t owe this man anything, especially the divulging of long-kept secrets. He’d crashed into her carefully planned life and wreaked havoc on it. Disrupted her schedule and set her time line back by weeks, if not months.
Yes, he could believe what he wanted of her. Draw conclusions based upon the illusion she’d created. As long as she was free at the end to finish what she’d started ten years ago. “Well, then, that’s all that’s important, isn’t it?” Nonchalantly she began stacking the dishes he’d emptied onto the tray.
“Apparently.” He handed her the plate he held. “I need a shower. Or better yet, a hot bath.”
She stilled in the act of accepting the dish. “I’m sure if you call the front desk, they can find you a room.”
“No need. I’m staying with you.” He gave her a thin smile. “I trust you exactly as much as you trust me. That’s to say, not at all. You and I are going to be joined at the hip for the duration of this assignment. Best get used to it.”
She stood frozen, his words swirling around her. Slowly, with a care that didn’t escape her, he rose. “But…there’s no need. I’ve already agreed to cooperate.” A feeling of desperation rose that owed nothing to their deal. “You can’t stay. I don’t want you here.”
She was talking to his broad back. He was walking in the direction of the bedrooms. “It’s not what I want either. But it’s the way it has to be.”
Setting the plate down on the tray she hurried in his wake and nearly bumped into him as he ducked back out of the first bathroom he’d come to. “This isn’t acceptable.” She made her voice as implacable as his had been. “You’d better get used to the fact that you aren’t going to have everything your way. You can’t…”
He turned around so suddenly that this time she did run into him.