Jane Huffman balanced on the top step of a four-foot-tall ladder. She reached up to arrange a swag of bloodred velvet across a thick brass curtain rod. As a professional interior designer, she wasn't proud of this particular redecorating project. In no way did this excessively opulent bedroom reflect her own taste. Massive four-poster bed? Gilt mirrors? Flocked wallpaper? Yuck!
But the customer was always right, and her customer was the glamorous Lily Dumont whose lucrative divorce and subsequent parade of lovers made her uniquely suited to a bordello-style boudoir.
Jane hummed as she worked. Her mood was as bubbly as Dom Pérignon. Tonight would be her third meeting with Sam Clarendon — an attorney who had hired Jane to do decorations for a benefit ball raising money for homeless children. This job offered amazing exposure for Jane's fledgling business, and she hoped to make great contacts. Even more exciting was her introduction to Sam. Although he was, by reputation, the most notorious bachelor in Denver, he was also funny, smart, and sexy with an endearingly masculine ignorance when it came to decor. She hoped tonight's meeting might turn into a date.
"Uneven!" Lily charged into the bedroom, pointing with both hands at the velvet swag. "It's all wrong! Uneven!"
Jane adjusted the bulky drapery. "Better?"
"Not really." She scowled. "Emerald green might be more effective. And fringe."
Oh please, not fringe. Jane glanced over her shoulder at Lily. Her thick black hair was tied back in a sporty ponytail, and she wore a skimpy tennis skirt that showed off her tanned legs — an enviable attribute. Jane had a typical redhead's complexion. All freckle. No tan.
Accompanying Lily was a scrawny woman wearing a paisley silk headscarf. She introduced herself. "I'm Mina Corsky, Lily's astrologer."
Jane smiled politely, hoping Mina's astrological advice wouldn't mean changing the swag to saffron yellow with spangles.
"You're a Libra," Mina said with surprising accuracy. "Beware the Taurus man who sweeps you off your feet. He'll be the death of you."
As if on cue, Sam Clarendon sauntered into the room. Carrying a tennis racket, he was also dressed for sport in khaki shorts and a T-shirt. "Hello, Jane."
Lily velcroed herself to his side and stroked the blond stubble on his jaw. "I wasn't aware you two knew each other."
"Jane works for me."
That certainly put Jane in her place. To him, she was nothing more than an employee.
Sam caught hold of Lily's hand and gazed at the magnificent ring on her middle finger. Even from across the room, Jane knew this gem was the real deal, likely from Tiffany's.
"A blue diamond," Sam said. "Eighteen carats."
"It really doesn't go with tennis," Lily said, "but I wear it constantly. A lady can't be too careful with a cat burglar on the loose."
"You could save yourself the trouble by donating your ring for the silent auction at the Benefit Ball."
"Convince me." Looking up at Sam, her fake lashes fluttered like crazed centipedes.
"I'd be happy to try." He raised her fingertips to his lips.
With a growl, Jane turned back to the velvet swag. Obviously, she'd been mistaken about Sam. The man was a slut.
When the two other women left the room, he approached her. "See you tonight, Jane. Eight o'clock."
Coldly, she said, "Perhaps it's best if we reschedule during regular business hours."
"It's important."
Too bad! Even though she was — as he'd said — only a hired hand, she didn't have to come whenever he called.
As she whipped around to give him a piece of her mind, her toe slipped off the ladder. She grabbed the velvet drape. The plush material slithered through her fingers. Awkwardly, she fell, colliding with Sam. They crashed to the floor.
Sprawled across his muscular body, she gasped to catch her breath. Her face was inches from his. She stared into his blue eyes — nearly the same color as her own. If they had children together, genetics would make them blue-eyed, too. Children? Oh, jeez, what was she thinking? This was definitely not the man who would give her a home, security, and family.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Fine. And you?"
"I'm great. This is the first time a woman has swept me off my feet."
Jane scrambled upright. She'd intended to put distance between them. Instead, she'd gotten too close — close enough to smell the pheromones, to feel the warmth of his flesh. "About tonight —"
"Eight o'clock." He stood and picked up his tennis racket. "My house. I'll leave the back door open."
"Fine." After dive-bombing onto him, she couldn't refuse. "By the way, Sam, what's your sign?"
"Taurus."
Five hours later, after no less than twelve changes of outfit, she settled on a sleeveless sundress and a see-through overblouse that camouflaged the freckles on her shoulders. If this meeting turned into a date, she could unbutton the blouse or take it off.
She wheeled her van into the driveway that stretched around to the back of his Cherry Creek minimansion. Hers was the only vehicle in sight; Sam must be parked in the detached garage.
Locking the van, Jane strolled through manicured landscaping to the back door. She knocked. Though the day had begun to fade into sunset, there was enough light to see inside. No one appeared to be home.
The door was unlocked as he had promised. She entered, feeling a bit like an intruder. "Sam? Are you here?"
Ever since she was a kid moving from one foster home to another, Jane had had a sense about the personality of a house — as if the walls could breathe and the windows could see. Some were bright and happy. Others wept. Sam's house felt abandoned in spite of being well tended. It felt as if nobody really lived here.
She walked through to the kitchen. Someone had been cooking; the scent of roasting fowl tickled her nostrils.
In the formal dining room, she found two places set at the table with crystal glasses, patterned china, and two white tapers, recently lit. A very romantic scene, this was not the setting for a straightforward business discussion. A shiver of anticipation chased through her. "Sam, where are you?"
She entered the living room where the drapes were drawn. Heavy, masculine furniture lurked in the shadows like crouching beasts. Jane rounded a leather sofa and turned on a table lamp.
On the floor beside the coffee table, a woman lay facedown. Her hair was black. Her dress was white with a crimson splotch in the middle of her back. Blood!
On her ring finger, the woman wore Lily Dumont's fabulous blue diamond. Her hand twitched.
Jane gasped. "Oh my God! Lily?"
The back door slammed. Someone was coming.
When the back door slammed, common sense told Jane to hide. But the woman in white sprawled on the floor in Sam's living room wasn't dead. Her finger had twitched. Jane wouldn't leave this unconscious victim at the mercy of whoever walked through that door. It was her nature to protect the helpless. Growing up in foster care, she'd learned to be tough.
From the kitchen, she heard a man's voice. Maybe Sam? Or maybe not.
She needed a weapon. From the stand by the front door, she grabbed an umbrella. With her other hand, she groped in her purse for her cell phone.
The stranger who entered the living room was built like a gorilla.
"Stay back!" Jane positioned herself between him and his victim. She punched in 9-1-1. "I'm calling the cops."
Calmly, he reached inside his blazer and pulled out a revolver.
Her heart stopped. Was it too late to run and hide?
"I need help," Jane shouted into the cell phone. "There's a man with a gun."
The gorilla stepped toward her. "Listen, ma'am, I'm not —"
"Don't move!" She jabbed at him with the point of the umbrella as she gave Sam's address to the emergency operator. "And we need an ambulance. There's a woman who's nearly dead."
"Not hardly," said a familiar female voice.
Looking over her shoulder, Jane saw Lily Dumont sit up on the floor, like a vampire rising from her coffin.
Sam strolled into his living room. As he beheld the scene, his eyebrows lifted. "Jane," he said, "I see you've already met Franklin. He's a professional security guard."
"Oh." She lowered her umbrella.
From the floor, Lily whined, "Sam, darling, I was attacked. Don't you care about me?"
While Sam helped Lily onto the sofa, Jane approached Franklin. "Sorry," she said.
He grinned. "You had me real scared, ma'am."
She glanced toward Sam and sighed. Every time she got close to him, she seemed destined to behave like a complete moron. The wail of approaching police sirens and an ambulance confirmed her idiocy. This situation could only get worse now that the cops were involved.
Breathlessly Lily explained, "I came here to surprise you, Sam. I had my chef prepare a divine candlelit dinner for two. She left while I set the table. I heard a noise and came into this room. I sensed someone behind me and…" She reached up to touch the back of her head. "…everything went black."
"Wait a minute," Jane said. "You were hit on the head? But there's blood on the back of your dress."
"Oh dear, I hope not. This is a Vera Wang."
Lily leaned forward. There was nothing on her back. But Jane had seen blood! She looked down at the carpet. "There it is."
She picked up the piece of shiny red plastic that she'd mistaken for blood in the poorly lit room. It was shaped like a sunburst — the calling card for the cat burglar who was terrorizing the wealthy of Denver.
Immediately, Lily checked her ring finger. "Thank God, the burglar didn't get my blue diamond!"
When Franklin opened the front door for the policemen and ambulance crew, Jane left center stage to Lily who protested to everyone and wouldn't allow the paramedics to touch her. In the midst of this confusion, a neighbor popped in to see what was happening. With her was Mina Corsky, who had just arrived for an evening tarot card reading.
Lily demanded, "I want my personal doctor. Someone fetch me a brandy."
Mina complied, going directly toward the liquor cabinet. Had she been here before? Did Sam use the services of this psychic?
When he caught Jane's eye and nodded toward the dining room, she followed him. At the romantically set table, he paused to blow out the candles. "Let me assure you, I knew nothing about Lily's dinner plans."
"Someone did," she said. "The cat burglar."
"How much do you know about these thefts?"
"Only what I read in the paper. Why?"
"The Benefit Ball is a big temptation for a jewel thief."
Sam unlocked the door into an old-fashioned library with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Unlike the rest of his house, this room looked lived-in. The large desk held a respectable amount of clutter. On the center table was an ebony rectangular box.
Reverently, Sam unfastened the hasp and lifted the lid. "I wanted you to see this before you designed the decorations for the ball."
Inside the white satin-lined box lay an ornately carved, golden scabbard. The hilt of the sword was pure, gleaming gold.
Sam lifted the scabbard from the case and drew the double-edged blade. "The Sword of LeFevre, a Frenchman who came to the Rockies and discovered gold in the 1800s. This scabbard and hilt were fashioned from gold mined from his strike. The blade is steel, still sharp."
He slashed the air, and the sword whistled. "It's to be auctioned off at the ball."
Jane watched as Sam parried and thrust at an invisible opponent. The gold highlights in his hair matched the shimmer of the hilt. "Elegant," she said.
"The owner's nervous about letting this treasure out of his sight. That's why I have Franklin with me."
"May I touch it?" Jane reached out.
He gave her the sword. The hilt was still warm from his touch. Golden heat radiated up her arm and spread through her entire body.
"I thought the sword might inspire you," he said. "For the decorations. Maybe some French stuff. Lots of gold."
Her gaze met his. An undeniable electricity sparked between them. "I'm inspired," she said.
"There was another reason I wanted to see you, Jane. I need major redecorating to make my house suitable for kids."
"But you're a bachelor." A confirmed and notorious bachelor.
"I've applied to be a foster parent."
She swallowed hard. Could Sam Clarendon possibly be more attractive? Handsome. Dashing. And sensitive, to boot.
"This was the kind of home I dreamed about when I was a kid. I grew up in foster care." Jane confessed.
"I know."
Though her past wasn't a secret, her upbringing wasn't common knowledge. "What else do you know about me?"
"You have a juvenile criminal record for shoplifting. You put yourself through college, majoring in art history. Before I hired you, I had you checked out, Jane. You're the woman I want… for this job."
Before Jane could reply, the library door was opened by Franklin. "Excuse me, sir. The police are taking statements. They'd like to speak to Miss Huffman."
* * *
After her interview with the cops, Jane drove straight home, thinking about what Sam had said. She was the woman he wanted...for the job. Did he want her in other ways? What might have happened tonight if Lily hadn't interfered? For hours, Jane invented possible scenarios. The candlelit dinner. The personal tour of his house, including the bedroom.
Before going to bed, she took her cell phone from her purse to recharge during the night. The phone wasn't properly closed. It looked like something was blocking the catch. She flipped it open.
Lily's diamond ring fell into her hand.
Clutching Lily's blue diamond ring, Jane telephoned the police detective who had interviewed her at Sam's house. She'd found the ring in her purse after arriving home from Sam's, but to anyone else, it would look as if she'd stolen it. She had to clear her name immediately. If accused of theft, her interior decorating business was ruined. People who hired Jane to work in their homes had to be able to trust her.
Pacing nervously, she waited for the detective to arrive. She grasped the ring in her hand, not daring to let it out of her sight. How had the diamond gotten into her purse? Was someone trying to frame her? Why?
Her doorbell chimed, and Jane ran to answer. Standing on her stoop was Mina Corsky.
"What are you doing here?" Jane asked. "It's after ten o'clock at night."
"But you're wide-awake," the psychic said as if stating the obvious was a brilliant revelation. "I'll make a pot of tea."
Mina slipped inside. Her dark eyes darted as she studied the layout of Jane's two-story carriage house. The downstairs was an open room with a galley kitchen against the south wall. A spiral staircase led to the bedroom. As Mina strode toward the kitchen, her long scarves swirled like the silky plumage of an exotic bird — a multicolored vulture.
Behind the counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the room, she lit the burner under the teapot. "I was right when I said a Taurus man would sweep you off your feet."
"You're referring to Sam." She had also said he'd be the death of her.
"Such a dear." Mina grinned knowingly. "Taurus is ruled by Venus. As are you. A Libra. I see a sky filled with romantic sparks."
Jane's fingers closed tightly on the diamond ring. This sparkler was closer to earth. "What happened at Sam's house after I left?"
"Questions from the police. Blah, blah, blah. When I left, Sam was comforting Lily."
About the loss of her ring. "She must have been distraught."
"Of course. Lily was attacked by the cat burglar. Such a marvelous excuse for being coddled! She's been after Sam for quite a while, but he prefers you. You two have so much in common."
"Like what?" Sam Clarendon was a wealthy, privileged attorney. Jane was raised in foster care and struggled all her life. What could they have in common?
"Taurus and Libra. You both adore beautiful things. Yet, you're practical." Mina emerged from behind the counter. "And, of course, you're both thieves."
"What?"
"Give me your hand, Jane. I'll read your palm."
And take the diamond? Jane hid both hands behind her back. "You're wrong, Mina. I'm not a thief."
"Don't deny! You did a bit of shoplifting as a girl. Unlike you, Sam has never been arrested. He's far too clever. His eyes are focused on the golden sword. Blue eyes, much like yours."
The teapot screamed to a boil. At the same time, the doorbell rang.
"It's the police," Jane said as she went toward the door. "I called them."
By the time the detective came inside, Mina had already poured boiling water into two mugs and added tea bags. It was rather amazing that she'd found everything so quickly. Maybe she truly was psychic. As she exited, she said, "I'll read your palm another time, Jane."
After she left, the police detective took the ring, much to Jane's relief. She said, "I'm sure Lily was frantic looking for this."
"She didn't report it missing," the detective replied.
"But she was wearing the ring earlier tonight," Jane said. "I saw it."
"This might be a copy."
When the detective held the diamond in the light, reflections from fifty-seven facets in a Tiffany cut shimmered in breathtaking splendor. Jane knew — as well as she knew her own name — that this gem was genuine.
After a few routine questions, he turned to leave. "Be sure to lock your door. If — as you claim — someone hid the ring in your purse, they'll come after it."
She closed the door behind him. Mina might have come here looking for the diamond. The psychic was a likely cat burglar. Her association with the wealthy of Denver gave her access to their homes, their secrets, their precious belongings…and their gossip. Why had she accused Sam?
When her cell phone rang, Jane feared it might be him, coming for the ring. "Hello?"
"Did I wake you?" The sound of Sam's voice was both exciting and troubling. "I wanted to apologize about tonight."
"I'm okay," she said. "How's Lily?"
"No crazier than usual." He paused. "You sound nervous, Jane. Would you like some company?"
"I couldn't ask you to come all the way to my place."
"No problem. I'm on my cell phone, parked next door to your carriage house."
He was outside, waiting in the dark, watching the light from her windows. A gaggle of goose bumps marched up her arm. Was he here for nefarious reasons? There was only one way to find out. "Since you're already nearby —"
The doorbell sounded.
She unlocked the door, and they faced each other. Each with cell phone in hand.
Jane disconnected. "Guess we don't need these."
"Guess not." When he entered, his energy filled the room. Her home seemed somehow brighter, lit by an ominous amber flare. "There's something I want to talk about."
Her heart thumped. She prayed he wouldn't confess to being the cat burglar. "What is it, Sam?"
"I think Lily staged her assault. She wouldn't allow the paramedics to check her injuries. I don't think she was attacked."
"Why would she fake it?"
Like Mina, he surveyed her home. His gaze focused on the spiral staircase leading to her bedroom. "Lily's after something."
"She's after you," Jane said. "She went to a lot of trouble to prepare that romantic candlelit dinner. Pretending to be attacked is a quick way into your arms. Obviously, she has the hots for you."
"There's only one thing Lily cares about. Money."
Don't we all? "They say it makes the world go round."
"With Lily, it's an obsession."
"What do you care about, Sam? Mina says a Taurus is supposed to adore objects of art and beauty."
He turned toward her. "I appreciate the finer things."
"Such as?" The Sword of LeFevre. A blue diamond ring.
"The red-gold shine of your hair." His direct gaze caressed her. "The pattern of freckles across your nose."
She quickly glanced away — afraid to connect with this incredibly attractive man who might be a cat burglar. "Why did you come here?"
"To see you." He strolled to the counter, noticing the two cups with tea bags. "Were you expecting company?"
"Not anymore."
"You live alone," he said.
His words struck a portentous chord. She was alone. If she screamed, no one would hear.
He took a step toward her. "I want to know you better, Jane. I want to know if I can trust you."
As he approached, she was aware of his height, his broad chest and muscular forearms. He could overpower her so easily. His nearness should have made her wary, but a strange instinct drew her toward him. When he touched her arm, electricity trembled through her body.
"Trust," she said, "can be dangerous."
"Lily knew I was bringing the sword to my house. I think she was trying to figure out a way to get her hands on it. And to frame me."
"Or me," Jane said.
"Why do you think she wanted to frame you?" Sam asked.
Jane decided to put her cards on the table. "To get me away from you," she explained. "She knows I find you… attractive." Jane swallowed nervously, not sure how Sam would react.
He moved closer to her. There was no escape from him now. Taking her hands in his, he brought his lips close to hers. "Jane," he whispered. "Where is the blue diamond ring?"
After the police had finished questioning him, Sam had come directly to Jane's house. He hadn't even taken the time to return with Franklin, the security guard, to drop off the golden Sword of LeFevre. First, he needed to see Jane and find out if she'd stolen Lily Dumont's blue diamond ring.
All night long, Lily had been flashing that eighteen-carat gem. A few times, she was out of his sight. Then Sam noticed the ring was different. It was a fake. At exactly that moment, Jane was walking out the door. She turned toward Sam and winked as if she had a little secret.
Damn it! If Jane stole that diamond, he wanted to know how she'd done it and why she'd done it at his house. Since he'd applied to be a foster parent, Sam couldn't afford the appearance of impropriety. Why now? Why now did all these crazy women seem hell-bent on framing him?
He gazed into Jane's wide blue eyes. "Where's the ring?"
She shuddered. In her tank top and shorts, she seemed young and vulnerable — almost scared. But Sam wasn't misled by her apparent innocence. As a corporate attorney, he came across his share of wrongdoers who looked pure as lambs and had the hearts of stone-cold predators.
"Jane? Answer me."
Her adorable freckled nose twitched. Her mouth opened as if to speak. Then she flung her arms around his neck. She kissed him.
For an instant, he was too surprised to respond. Then he felt the supple length of her body. Her breasts crushed against his chest. The taste of her lips was pure nectar.
His arms wrapped tightly around her. A growl of desire rumbled in the back of his throat as he returned her kiss. His tongue penetrated her lips and teeth. He hadn't intended to make love to her… not while Franklin still waited in the car. An unexpected burst of passion surged through Sam's veins. Let Franklin wait.
Everything about her excited him. Her scent of musk and roses. The heat of her body. Her wiry strength and the silky texture of her red-gold hair.
All of a sudden, she was pushing away from him. "Did you hear that, Sam?"
He stood gaping at her. All the blood had drained from his brain to his groin, leaving him dumb as a tree stump. "What?"
"It sounded like a gunshot."
Two sharp cracks echoed outside her door. Gunfire!
He ran toward the sound and flung open the door. The entrance to her carriage house opened onto a cobblestone alley. Her porch light shone on Franklin. He was down on one knee, firing into the dark. Wincing, the security guard stood. He lowered his weapon. "They got away."
"What happened?"
"You called me," Franklin said. "You called me on the cell phone and told me to come inside."
Of course, Sam hadn't made that call. "Then what?"
"When I was getting out of the car, somebody hit me hard. I went down. I was only unconscious for a second, but it was long enough for them to grab the sword and run."
"Oh, no," Jane exclaimed. "The sword was stolen?"
Sam eyed her suspiciously. Had her kiss been a delaying tactic to keep him inside? He pulled the cell phone from his pocket to call the police.
Jane pointed to the cobblestones beside the rear wheel of his car. "Look!"
It was a red plastic sunburst — the signature of the cat burglar.
* * *
The next day in the early afternoon, Jane returned to work at Lily Dumont's home with two plumbers. Their job today was the installation of gold-plated fixtures in the bathroom next to the grotesque bordello bedroom. Normally, Jane would have allowed the plumbers to handle this work alone, but these fixtures were extremely expensive, and she didn't want to install them without Lily's express approval.
Jane also had something else in mind. She intended to get to the bottom of these jewel thefts. The police didn't seem to be making any headway. In fact, they made it clear last night that Jane could consider herself a suspect.
Last night was disastrous on so many levels. Most of all, she regretted the timing of that impulsive kiss. At the time, she was afraid that Sam might be the thief. She kissed him to buy time, to distract him. Hah! That plan certainly backfired! His kiss had thrown her for a loop. It was the best sensual experience she'd ever had with her clothes on. Finally, she understood Sam's reputation as the most desirable and notorious bachelor in Denver.
Unfortunately, he now distrusted her. If she ever hoped to have any peace of mind — or any chance for more kisses from Sam — she must find the cat burglar. Her investigation would start with Lily, who was the most likely person to have slipped the ring into Jane's purse.
Wearing exercise spandex, Lily slithered into the bathroom as the plumbers were unpacking the gold fixtures to be installed on the red marble sink and tub. She looked none the worse for wear after last night's supposed assault. The blue diamond ring sparkled on her finger. "What do you want, Jane?"
"I need your approval before the plumbers get started."
She glanced at the hardware. "Lovely. One can't go wrong with gold."
Like the fabled Sword of LeFevre? "I'm glad to see you have your ring back. I'm shocked that you didn't notice it missing. How could that happen?"
Her eyes turned cold. "So much was going on. I must have taken if off when I washed my hands. Or when my doctor was examining me. Someone must have substituted the fake then."
"Someone?" Jane questioned. "Someone who had access to the ring so a copy could be made?"
"Are you suggesting that I arranged the substitution? Why on earth would I put my ring into your purse?"
Ah ha! "How did you know it was in my purse?"
"The detective told me," she said. "That doesn't look good for your reputation. Does it, Jane?"
"Were you trying to frame me?"
Hands on hips, Lily scowled furiously. "Why would I care about what happens to a little nobody like you?"
Mina sashayed into the room. "Because you're both after the same man."
Jane glared at the psychic. If anybody looked suspicious, it was Mina. Not only had she been at Sam's house when the ring was substituted, but she had also appeared on Jane's doorstep — which meant she was nearby when the sword was stolen.
As Mina swirled, a dozen Mardi Gras necklaces clattered around her throat like a death rattle. "And here he is, ladies. What a coincidence! It's darling Sam."
He looked anything but darling. Stern and angry in a three-piece business suit, tension radiated from him in palpable waves. "I want you three to be the first to know. I'm offering a half-million-dollar reward for the return of the sword."
"Why?" Lily asked. "That's far more than it's worth."
"Enough to make a cat burglar think twice," Mina said. "Especially if the cat is greedy."
When he stared directly at Jane, she felt hot, blushing beneath her freckles. She'd be foolish to think she had a chance with Sam. But now that she'd tasted his lips, she was hungry for the entrée.
"Jane," he said, "I need to speak with you."
Yes! Her heart did a happy dance. He wanted to talk to her! As she left the room, Jane glanced over her shoulder at the other two women. She was sure that one of them was the cat burglar.
Even after last night's robbery, confusion, and that one insanely impulsive kiss, Sam wanted to see her alone. Jane considered that a good sign. She joined him in the corridor outside Lily's flamboyantly redecorated boudoir.
In his business suit, he appeared ready for the cold, hard world of corporate law. "Walk me to the door," he said.
She fell into step beside him, descending the pink marble staircase with a polished brass banister. Outside on the wide verandah were tall, white columns that put Scarlett's Tara to shame.
"I need your help, Jane."
Another good sign! He was willing to trust her. "I'll do anything."
His eyebrows raised as he gave her a sexy smile. "Anything?"
"To help you find the sword," she said quickly. "I think Lily is the cat burglar. Who else could have put the diamond ring in my purse?"
"You're assuming the same person was after the diamond and the sword."
"There can't be two cat burglars." Actually, there could be two or four or even more. There could be a whole gang of cat burglars dashing around Denver, grabbing precious gems and leaving the red plastic sunburst behind.
"We'll start with your initial hypothesis," he said in a lawyerly tone. "If Lily took the sword, it's probably hidden in her house. You can help me by looking for it while you're working here."
She and Sam were definitely on the same page — the one that said Lily was guilty. "I'll do it," Jane said.
"If you find anything suspicious, tell me. Don't investigate by yourself. This cat burglar could be dangerous."
She nodded. Jane had grown up on the streets; she knew better than to stroll blindly into peril. "What made you decide to trust me?"
"Because you kiss like an angel."
She felt herself blushing under her freckles. "Last night, you seemed to think I had something to do with the burglary."
"You thought the same about me. Why?"
How could she explain? Behind his buttoned-down corporate facade, there was something dangerous about Sam. He was unpredictable and edgy. "Mina said you were a thief."
He shrugged off Mina's accusation. "We only have three weeks until the Benefit Ball. I want the Sword of LeFevre back before then."
"The police have been trying to catch the cat burglar for months. What makes you think we can figure this out in three weeks?"
"Because…" he leaned toward her and whispered, "You and I understand what it means to be a thief. To want something so much that you can't resist."
"Even when you know it might be bad for you."
"We'll be good partners."
Lightly, he caressed her shoulder and arm. He squeezed her hand, then broke away quickly. Pinpricks of excitement danced beneath her skin as she watched him descend the stairs from Lily's verandah and step into the sunlight. When he turned back toward her, he dangled her wristwatch between two fingers.
He'd stolen her watch. "You're good," she said with a smile.
With a grin, he tossed the watch back to her and got into his car.
When Jane returned to the foyer, she almost tripped over Mina, who lurked silently inside the doorway. "You were spying on us."
Mina handed her a tarot card. "From the major arcana. The Sun."
Jane stared at the tarot picture of a garden with two young boys beneath a large sun — as in sunburst, the calling card of the cat burglar. Before she could question the psychic, Mina had made her exit.
Slipping the card into her pocket, Jane returned to Lily's boudoir. There was only one problem with Sam's plan for checking out hiding places. Jane was almost done with this project. She needed to convince Lily to hire her for more work — which meant putting good taste on hold.
In the bedroom, Lily stood at the window, frowning at the drapes. "I'm not thrilled with all this red."
"I'd love to hear your other ideas." Jane gritted her teeth. "Your decorating sense is so different and dramatic."
"Anyone can be beige." Lily strutted across the room in her formfitting spandex. "I'm colorful."
Like an explosion in a paint factory. "Now that we're almost done with the bedroom, I'm wondering if there are any other projects."
"My exercise room in the basement seems terribly cramped. I might consider moving the equipment upstairs to the sunroom."
"Fantastic," Jane said. "And, of course, you'll want more mirrors. And maybe statuary."
"Dozens of mirrors. Come, take a look."
Those were exactly the words Jane wanted to hear. She was on the job.
The next couple of weeks passed in a flurry of intense activity. Jane worked at her regular decorating projects and finalized her sketches for the Benefit Ball decorations. Sam's business took him out of town. During their few, fleeting moments together, they made zero progress toward catching the cat burglar. Worse than that, there had been no more kisses.
Two days before the ball, Jane made a discovery at Lily's house. She telephoned Sam at his office right away.
"There's a secret room," she said. "In the basement of Lily's house, a doorway is camouflaged into the paneling."
"Have you gone inside?"
"It's locked."
"I'll pick you up at midnight," he said. "Wear black."
She was fairly certain that his intention was to sneak into Lily's house. Not a good idea! If they were caught, her decorating business would be deader than the proverbial doornail. But the secret room was intriguing. And a midnight rendezvous with Sam sounded very appealing. Or was it? What kind of relationship was founded on a date that included breaking and entering?
At midnight, she opened her door for Sam, who was dressed all in black, looking mysterious — dangerously seductive. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard, taking her breath away. "I've missed you."
"Sam, we shouldn't break into Lily's house. It's not —"
"Nothing bad will happen. Trust me."
She'd heard those words before from bad companions who led her directly into disaster. But Sam was different. "What kind of corporate attorney does midnight break-ins?"
"One who understands that doing what's right sometimes means bending the law. We need to recover the sword. Proceeds from the auction are going to benefit homeless children."
When he kissed her again, Jane's objections faded to a cautionary whisper. Be careful. He could hurt you in so many ways.
At Lily's house, there was no need to break a window. Jane had the key to the front door. Though she had been here dozens of times, the house had never before seemed ominous. She and Sam crept through the moonlit foyer to the staircase leading down. In the pitch dark basement hallway, they came to the secret door. The handle and lock were hidden behind an autographed picture of a Denver Bronco football player.
With trembling hands, Jane held the flashlight while Sam expertly picked the lock. If she was caught, her career was over. This was a terrible mistake! She never should have come here.
They were inside the room. Sam closed the door and turned on the overhead light.
When Sam turned on the light in the secret room in Lily Dumont's basement, Jane's misgivings about their break-in turned to certainty.
The room was filled with treasures to die for — Ming vases, Fabergé eggs, bronzes, and original artworks. Glass display cases were filled with priceless scrimshaw, jade, and magnificent jewelry, much of which had been duplicated.
She took a closer look at one of the bronzes. "This is a fake."
Sam peered into the jewelry cases. "Lots of duplicates. I count three rings that look like Lily's blue diamond."
"She must be stealing the originals, then selling the copies."
"Black market sales with phony authentication." He grinned sheepishly. "I never should have suspected you, Jane."
"What?" She couldn't believe her ears. "You didn't trust me. That's why you stayed away from me for the past two weeks."
"I needed to be sure." He picked up the Sword of LeFevre. "Apparently, this hasn't been copied yet."
She wasn't about to let him off the hook. The differences between them had never been more apparent. "Just because you're a rich attorney —"
"Wealth has nothing to do with suspicion."
"A lot you know." Everything she wanted in life had to do with security and safety and all those tangible things that money could buy. "It's everything."
The door to the secret room creaked open, framing a husky young man with auburn hair. In his right hand, he held a gun.
Jane's irritation at Sam vanished in the face of this larger threat.
"I knew a man was involved," Sam said calmly. "A male voice spoke to Franklin on the phone, claiming to be me, then lured him out and grabbed the sword. So, who are you? Lily's latest boyfriend?"
Lily herself appeared. "Allow me to introduce my son. His name is Red." She held up the photograph of a Denver Bronco football player that had hidden the latch to the secret room. "Named after his father, Red Haywood."
"You're not old enough to have a grown son," Jane said.
"Aren't you sweet?" She preened. "I got pregnant when I was fourteen. If I'd known that my boyfriend was going to be a wealthy running back, I certainly would've married him. But we all make silly mistakes."
"Like putting me up for adoption," her son said.
She patted his cheek. "My son returned to me two years ago after he was accused of robbery. We've improved his technique since then, haven't we, Red?"
"Red," Jane repeated. "And he's your son. The calling card of the cat burglar is a red sun."
"Ta-da!" Lily said. "One must have one's little amusements."
Jane had another question. "Why did you go to Sam's house and prepare that surprise dinner?"
"I planned to drug his wine and steal the sword. But I learned — before he arrived — that Sam was accompanied by a security guard. I faked an attack by the cat burglar to throw off police suspicions. Also, as a ploy for sympathy." She pressed her wrist melodramatically to her forehead. "Poor little me! I thought Sam would become my gallant protector."
"I'd rather protect a pit viper." Sam growled.
"Such a pity," Lily said. "Now I'll have to… eliminate you. Both of you."
"You won't get away with murder," Sam said.
"You're trespassing." Her dark eyes shone harshly. "There won't be much investigation. You're both dressed in black… like cat burglars, caught in the act."
Jane didn't intend to go quietly. As Sam edged toward the doorway with the sword still in his hand, she picked up a Ming vase. "I'll smash this."
When Lily and Red stared at her, Sam had the distraction he needed. Using the gold hilt of the sword, he knocked the gun from Red's hand and charged him.
Jane raced after him. She kicked the gun away from Lily's grasp. It slid under the entertainment center in the rec room. Lily rose athletically. She struck a karate pose.
In an instant, Jane transformed from her role as sophisticated interior decorator to her former identity as a tough street kid. She grabbed a lamp and swung it like a baseball bat, keeping Lily at bay.
At the far end of the room, Sam and Red battled, hand-to-hand. Sam got in a good, hard uppercut. When Red went down, Sam grabbed the sword and held the tip to Red's throat.
A familiar voice shouted, "Freeze."
Jane pivoted and saw Mina, accompanied by three uniformed policemen. Around Mina's throat, dangling amid colorful scarves and necklaces, was a badge. "You're a cop!"
"An undercover detective, and a damn good one," Mina said. "How did you think I knew all that stuff about you and Sam?"
"Psychically?"
"In your dreams," Mina said with a grin. "I've been investigating this case for months. Now, it looks like we've caught our cat burglars."
While the officers took Lily and her son into custody, Sam came to Jane's side. "I think we might all get exactly what we want."
"And what might that be?" she asked.
"You," he said. "It's been hell staying away from you. All I could think about was this…." He pulled her into his arms for a long, deep kiss. She heard a clatter as the Sword of LeFevre dropped from his hand.
* * *
Two days later, Jane stood in the lobby of the Brown Palace Hotel. She wore a strapless gown of emerald silk — material that she'd purchased for boudoir curtains before Lily decided on red velvet. The Benefit Ball was under way. Dozens of Denver's elite were here in all their finery, wearing enough gems to make a cat burglar's fur stand on end.
But Sam had not yet arrived.
Where was he? During the past forty-eight hours, Jane had more than forgiven him. They'd been inseparable. He came with her while she supervised the ball decorations, which, ironically, included bouquets of gilded lilies. And she'd gone with him to the courthouse, where he was approved as a foster parent after Detective Mina Corsky testified to his outstanding character.
The crowd parted, and she saw him. In his tuxedo with his blond hair shining under the chandelier's glow, he was…amazing.
Though Jane had fully intended to chastise him for being late, she could only say, "Hi."
"Hi yourself." He caressed her freckled shoulder. Last night in bed, he'd played a seductive game of connect the dots. "You're beautiful, Jane."
Taking her arm, he escorted her through the ballroom to the dais, where he stepped in front of the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have a presentation to make. As most of you know, I offered a half-million-dollar reward for the return of the Sword of LeFevre. The reward goes to Jane Huffman."
A security guard with a lockbox stepped in front of her. Inside was more money than she'd ever imagined. All her life, she'd yearned for security, and here it was. She should have been satisfied, but she wanted something different. Her priorities had changed. She wanted Sam — the chance to build a life with him.
She spoke into the microphone. "I'm pleased to donate the full amount of this reward to the Benefit for Homeless Children."
Sam pulled her aside. "I thought money was everything."
"All that glitters isn't gold." Now, she knew the truth. "You're my everything."
"I hope you won't give this back." He opened a small black velvet box. Inside was a Tiffany engagement ring. "Marry me, Jane."
She flung her arms around his neck. He might not be a cat burglar, but he had truly stolen her heart.
The End