Beijing, he wouldn’t have seen it until he tripped over the wire. And then he would have been dead. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
A smile dimpled her cheeks. “Yes, well, look what it got me.”
He was definitely beginning to think he’d come out ahead in this little partnership so far. Richard stood, and because he wanted to touch her, he offered his hand to help her to her feet. She gripped his fingers and stood, gazing at him from beneath her long eyelashes.
Jesus. Richard knew he was being played, that she’d probably gazed at other men in the same teasing way, knowing that they’d give her whatever she wanted. He still couldn’t help reacting to it. To her. Slowly he smiled back at her. As long as he knew what was going on, he might as well enjoy it. “Do you have any theories, then?” he asked, letting her go after a moment and backing up again to give her room while she continued toward the far end of the gallery.
“Just this one side wired,” she noted, “which would say to me that whoever did it left in this direction. Unless he didn’t.”
“That’s not very helpful.”
“I know. It’s just…”
“Just what?” he prompted.
“I’m not used to looking at a robbery from this side. I mean I know what I would do in a given circumstance, but this definitely isn’t me.”
“Aside from the bomb, what else makes it different to you? I’m not looking for trouble, Samantha. I’m trying to figure this out, too.”
She blew out her breath. “Right. Well, I like to get in and out fast. I look at blueprints, photographs, or whatever, find the quickest, easiest way to get what I want, and go with it. Leaving evidence of a break-in really doesn’t concern me, as long as none of it points specifically in my direction.”
“Once an object’s gone missing, it’s obviously been stolen,” he commented, and saw her nod. “It makes sense.”
“But this guy didn’t want anybody to know he’d been here. So, from what I see, there’s only one conclusion.” Slowly she paced back toward him again, stepping over a crushed, decapitated knight as she did so. “He knew the layout really well, and he came in both to steal the tablet and to blow up your gallery.”
“So he didn’t mind killing.”
“Or he intended to kill. But not you. You weren’t supposed to be here.”
“Nor were you.”
“All right, let’s go from there,” she returned, fine eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Who was here on—”
“Let’s go there from downstairs,” he interrupted. “Do you like raspberry sorbet?”
“Boy, you’re smooth,” she said, giving him an appraising look. “You do remember that I was trying to steal from you.”
“Yes, but do you like raspberry sorbet?” he repeated, allowing himself a smile at her expression. She was too damned sexy for his peace of mind, but at least he seemed to get under her skin a little, as well. Where he wanted was under her clothes.
“Sure.”
As they reached the dining room, he let her move ahead of him. Lowering his gaze to admire her backside, he abruptly noticed blood running down her left thigh. “Samantha, you’re hurt,” he exclaimed, taking her shoulder to pull her to a stop.
“No, I’m not.”
“Your leg is bleeding.”
She shrugged free of his grasp. “Looking at my legs, were you?” she asked coolly, glancing at Reinaldo and Joseph, theother dining room attendant. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a cut. Do you have any super glue?”
“Super what?”
“Never mind. There’s some in my purse upstairs.” She turned around to exit.
Richard blocked her escape. “I’ll send Joseph for it.” Before she could protest, he waved a hand at the young Latino, who nodded and bolted out the door. “Sit—no, bend over. I’ll take a look.”
“I don’t think so, your lordship. Not before dessert. And don’t make such a fuss. I’m fine. My guy patched it. I just pulled it open, squatting up there.”
“Get me a
A smile dimpled her cheeks. “Yes, well, look what it got me.”
He was definitely beginning to think he’d come out ahead in this little partnership so far. Richard stood, and because he wanted to touch her, he offered his hand to help her to her feet. She gripped his fingers and stood, gazing at him from beneath her long eyelashes.
Jesus. Richard knew he was being played, that she’d probably gazed at other men in the same teasing way, knowing that they’d give her whatever she wanted. He still couldn’t help reacting to it. To her. Slowly he smiled back at her. As long as he knew what was going on, he might as well enjoy it. “Do you have any theories, then?” he asked, letting her go after a moment and backing up again to give her room while she continued toward the far end of the gallery.
“Just this one side wired,” she noted, “which would say to me that whoever did it left in this direction. Unless he didn’t.”
“That’s not very helpful.”
“I know. It’s just…”
“Just what?” he prompted.
“I’m not used to looking at a robbery from this side. I mean I know what I would do in a given circumstance, but this definitely isn’t me.”
“Aside from the bomb, what else makes it different to you? I’m not looking for trouble, Samantha. I’m trying to figure this out, too.”
She blew out her breath. “Right. Well, I like to get in and out fast. I look at blueprints, photographs, or whatever, find the quickest, easiest way to get what I want, and go with it. Leaving evidence of a break-in really doesn’t concern me, as long as none of it points specifically in my direction.”
“Once an object’s gone missing, it’s obviously been stolen,” he commented, and saw her nod. “It makes sense.”
“But this guy didn’t want anybody to know he’d been here. So, from what I see, there’s only one conclusion.” Slowly she paced back toward him again, stepping over a crushed, decapitated knight as she did so. “He knew the layout really well, and he came in both to steal the tablet and to blow up your gallery.”
“So he didn’t mind killing.”
“Or he intended to kill. But not you. You weren’t supposed to be here.”
“Nor were you.”
“All right, let’s go from there,” she returned, fine eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Who was here on—”
“Let’s go there from downstairs,” he interrupted. “Do you like raspberry sorbet?”
“Boy, you’re smooth,” she said, giving him an appraising look. “You do remember that I was trying to steal from you.”
“Yes, but do you like raspberry sorbet?” he repeated, allowing himself a smile at her expression. She was too damned sexy for his peace of mind, but at least he seemed to get under her skin a little, as well. Where he wanted was under her clothes.
“Sure.”
As they reached the dining room, he let her move ahead of him. Lowering his gaze to admire her backside, he abruptly noticed blood running down her left thigh. “Samantha, you’re hurt,” he exclaimed, taking her shoulder to pull her to a stop.
“No, I’m not.”
“Your leg is bleeding.”
She shrugged free of his grasp. “Looking at my legs, were you?” she asked coolly, glancing at Reinaldo and Joseph, theother dining room attendant. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a cut. Do you have any super glue?”
“Super what?”
“Never mind. There’s some in my purse upstairs.” She turned around to exit.
Richard blocked her escape. “I’ll send Joseph for it.” Before she could protest, he waved a hand at the young Latino, who nodded and bolted out the door. “Sit—no, bend over. I’ll take a look.”
“I don’t think so, your lordship. Not before dessert. And don’t make such a fuss. I’m fine. My guy patched it. I just pulled it open, squatting up there.”
“Get me a
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