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Authors: Nora Roberts

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BOOK: Sweet Revenge
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“Adrianne.”

The impatience in Celeste’s voice had her smiling as she turned. “Yes, darling?”

“What exactly went on in London?”

“I told you.” She glided around the tables. No, she’d been right to go with the asters. The lavender shade was striking against the pastel green cloths. And festive or not, poinsettias were everywhere this time of year.

“What did you leave out, Addy?”

“Celeste, really, you’re distracting me and I don’t have much time.”

“Everything’s perfect, as usual.” Taking matters into her own hands, Celeste gripped Adrianne’s arm and drew her farther away from the tuxedoed band members. “Did something go wrong?”

“No, nothing.”

“You’ve been edgy since you’ve been back.”

“I’ve been busy since I’ve been back,” Adrianne retorted, brushing Celeste’s cheek with her lips. “You know how important this function is to me.”

“I know.” Relenting, Celeste took her hand. “No one does it better, and I’d swear no one cares more. You know, Addy, if you concentrated on this kind of work, gave it all the energy and talent you do the other, there wouldn’t be a need—”

“Not tonight.” The easiest way to end the conversation was to signal for the doors to be opened. “Curtain up, darling.”

“Addy. You’d tell me if you were in trouble.”

“You’d be the first.” With a brilliant smile Adrianne swept forward to greet the early arrivals.

It wasn’t difficult to keep the partygoers happy. It required only seeing that the food was first class, the music loud, and the wine free-flowing. As the evening progressed,
Adrianne drifted from table to table and group to group. She wound her way through the silks and taffetas and velvets, the Saint Laurents, the Diors, and de la Rentas.

Though she didn’t settle long enough to eat, she danced when pressed, and she flirted and flattered. She noticed Lauren St. John, the deplorable second wife of a hotel tycoon, wearing a new suite of diamonds and rubies. Adrianne waited her chance. When Lauren walked toward the ladies’ lounge, Adrianne followed her.

Inside, two actresses were having a low-toned and bitter fight. Over a man, Adrianne realized as she chose a stall. Typical. They were lucky
People
had sent a male reporter who couldn’t be privy to women’s room gossip. Of course if the lounge attendant had a good memory, she could make herself an extra fifty by passing the story along. Adrianne heard Lauren swear in the next stall and guessed she was struggling to pull the snug skirt over her hips. On cue, Adrianne walked to the sinks to wait. When Lauren joined her, the actresses slammed out, one then the other.

“Were they haggling over who I think they were haggling over?” Lauren asked as she washed her hands.

“Sounded like it.”

“He is a sexy son of a bitch. Do you think he’s going to divorce her?” She picked up a bottle of scent, sniffed it, then sprayed with abandon.

“Odds are.” Adrianne crossed to the lighted vanity and took out her compact. “The question is, why does she want to hold on to him?”

“Because he’s the best fuck around … I hear.” Lauren sat on one of the cushy white stools and fussed with her lipstick. “We got to see a great deal of his—talent—in his last movie. I wouldn’t mind a trial run myself.” She took out a monogrammed silver brush and smoothed her sleekly cut blond hair.

“A woman can get sex without humiliation.” Adrianne spoke with casual conviction, though it was something she’d never been quite sure of.

“Of course, but with some a little humiliation is worth it.” Lauren leaned forward to peer into her own eyes, satisfying herself that the need for a lift was still years off. “Whose heart are you breaking this week, darling?”

“I’m taking a rest.” Adrianne used her fingers to fluff out the hair around her face before she took a vial of perfume out of her bag. “Lauren, that necklace is simply stunning. Is it new?” She already knew when it had been bought and for how much. She’d almost finished calculating just how long Lauren would own it.

“Yes.” She turned, right then left, so the stones caught the light and shimmered. “Charlie gave it to me for our anniversary. One year last week.”

“And they said it wouldn’t last,” Adrianne murmured, shifting to admire it. “Exquisite, really.”

“Seventy carats in diamonds, fifty-eight in rubies. Burmese.”

“Of course.” That was how Lauren’s mind worked. Adrianne both disdained and appreciated it.

“Not counting the earrings.” Lauren turned her head to be certain they showed to the best advantage. “Luckily, I’m tall enough to carry them. Nothing tackier than seeing some of these little women so loaded down with jewelry they can hardly totter about. The older they get, the more they pile it on—so you don’t notice how many chins they have. Now, you …” Lauren glanced over at Adrianne’s filigree necklace studded with brilliant-cut sapphires and diamonds. “You always know exactly what to wear and how to wear it. That’s a very sweet necklace.”

Adrianne only smiled. If the stones had been real, it would have been worth a cool hundred thousand. As it was, the pretty colored stones could be had for less than one percent of that. “Thanks.” Rising, Adrianne brushed at her skirt. The full silver skirt contrasted nicely with the snug bustier of royal blue velvet. “I must go out and do my duty. We’ll have to have lunch soon, Lauren, and discuss the fashion show.”

“Love to.” Lauren glanced at the dollar Adrianne had left for the attendant. It was enough to cover both of them, she decided, then tucked the bottle of scent into her bag.

Charles and Lauren St. John, Adrianne mused. The gala star-studded fashion show would take place in their new hotel in Cozumel. Wasn’t that handy? Everyone who was anyone would be there. Even handier. It was always an advantage to
steal in a crowd. Smiling, she thought about Lauren’s anniversary gift. She’d have to arrange that lunch very soon.

“Is that smile for me?”

When Adrianne found herself caught in Philip’s arms, the smile not only disappeared, her mouth fell open. Before she could react, he was kissing her, just a bit too hard and too long for a casual greeting. Then he drew back, but kept her hands firmly in his.

“Miss me?”

“No.”

“Lucky I know you’re a habitual liar.” He let his gaze skim over her bare shoulders, the blue stones at her throat, then back to her face. “You look gorgeous.”

She had to do something, and quickly. It was bad enough that people were watching them, but it was worse, much worse, that her heart was hammering. “I’m sorry, Philip, but this isn’t an open party. I’m quite sure you didn’t buy a ticket.”

“But I’m a gate crasher bearing gifts.” He took a check out of the inside pocket of his dinner jacket. “For your very worthy cause, Adrianne.”

It was twice the price of a ticket. Even if she hated him for disrupting her routine, she had to admire his generosity. “Thank you.” She dropped the folded check into her bag.

He was glad she’d left her hair down so that he could let his fingers loose in it. “Dance with me.”

“No.”

“Afraid to let me get my hands on you again?”

Her eyes narrowed as temper spit out of them. He was laughing at her. That was something she took from no one. “Again?” But her voice wasn’t as icy as she’d hoped.

This time he did laugh, out loud. “Adrianne, you’re delightful. Do you know I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind?”

“Obviously, you haven’t enough to occupy your time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do.”

“Addy.” With the instinctive timing of a veteran, Celeste glided to her side. “You haven’t introduced me to your friend.”

“Philip Chamberlain,” she said between her teeth. “Celeste Michaels.”

“I’ve seen Ms. Michaels dozens of times.” Taking Celeste’s hand, Philip kissed it. “She’s been breaking my heart for years.”

“A pity I didn’t know it until now.” A quick study, Celeste summed up both Philip and the situation. If ever there was a man to make a woman edgy, this was he. “Did you meet Addy in London?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay.” In a smooth move he ran a hand along Adrianne’s shoulder and the back of her neck. “She also refuses to dance with me. Perhaps you will.”

“Certainly.” Taking Philip’s arm, Celeste sent one quick and mischievous grin over her shoulder. “You’ve infuriated her.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Celeste settled a hand on his shoulder. “Addy’s not easily rattled.”

“So I gather. You’ve fond of her.”

“I love her above all others. Which is why I intend to keep a very close eye on you, Mr. Chamberlain.”

“Philip.” He turned Celeste so that he could watch Adrianne lean over a prune-faced grande dame. “She’s a fascinating woman, both less and more than what she seems.”

Celeste heard the jingle of warning bells as she studied his face. “You’re very astute. The point is, Adrianne is a woman, a very sensitive, very vulnerable one. If I were to find out that someone hurt her, I’d be very unhappy. And I’m not sensitive at all, Philip. Just mean.”

He smiled down at her. “Have you ever considered having an affair with a younger man?”

She laughed, taking the compliment as it was meant. “You’re a charmer. Since you amuse me, I’ll give you a little advice. Charm doesn’t work on Addy. Patience might.”

“I appreciate it,” Philip said. He was watching Adrianne when she lifted a hand to her throat and found it bare. He saw her instant of surprise and confusion, then the tightly controlled temper as she zeroed in on him. With a smile he sent her a nod of acknowledgment. Her necklace of faux diamonds and sapphires was resting comfortably in his pocket.

The bastard. The low, slimy bastard. He’d stolen from her. He’d lifted the necklace right off her throat without her
feeling a thing but the pumping of her pulse. Then he’d taunted her. He’d looked right at her and grinned.

He was going to pay for it, Adrianne thought as she tossed her gloves into her shoulder bag. And he was going to pay for it tonight.

She knew it was reckless. There hadn’t been time to work out a plan coolheadedly. All she knew was that he’d taken from her, laughed at her, challenged her. Celeste, innocently enough, had passed on the information that Philip was staying at the Carlyle. That was all Adrianne needed.

She’d had an hour to change out of her gown and into her working clothes. She’d rejected the notion of bribing the night clerk. The staff at the Carlyle was well known for their honesty. She’d simply break into his room.

Adrianne walked into the lobby. There was only one clerk at the desk, male and young. Blessing her luck, Adrianne staggered over.

“Please,” she began, choosing a shaky French accent. “Two men, outside. They tried to …” With a hand to her head she shuddered and swayed. “I must call a cab, so foolish to think I could walk. Water,
s’il vous plaît.
May I have some water?”

He was already rounding the desk to lead her to a chair. “Were you hurt?”

She turned her face up to his, making certain her eyes were liquid and helpless. “No, just frightened. They tried to get me into a car, and there was no one, no one to …”

“It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

He was so young, Adrianne thought as she leaned against him. And playing on his sympathy was too easy. “Thank you. You’re so kind, so good. If you would please call me a cab. But first the water, or perhaps some brandy.”

“Of course. Just try to relax. I’ll be only a minute.”

And a minute was all she needed. As soon as he was out of sight, she leapt up, vaulted the counter, and hit the computer. He was on the twentieth floor, she saw with a grim smile. Smugly asleep, she was sure, and waiting for her next move. She doubted he expected one so quickly.

When the clerk returned with a snifter of brandy, she was sprawled in the chair, her eyes closed and a hand to her heart.

“So kind of you.” She made sure her hand shook ever so slightly as she drank. “I must get home.” She brushed a tear from her lashes. “I’ll feel so much better behind my own doors.”

“Should I call the police?”

“No,” she said with a brave smile. “I didn’t see them. It was dark. Thank God I was able to get away and run in here.” After handing the snifter back to him, she managed to stand, “I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been.”

“It was nothing.” Pleased, he puffed out with masculine pride.

“It was everything to me.” Adrianne leaned against him as they walked outside. The cab she’d already paid to be waiting a half a block away glided to the curb.
“Merci bien”
Adrianne kissed him on the cheek before she slid inside. The moment they were out of sight, she straightened in her seat. “Let me off around the corner.”

“Want me to wait again?”

“No.” She handed him a twenty. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, lady.”

Fifteen minutes later Adrianne was standing outside Philip’s door. The entry through the service entrance and elevator had been routine. Now it was just a matter of getting through the lock and security chain. She blamed her own impatience and temper for the amount of time it took her.

Inside, the suite was silent. Because he hadn’t drawn the drapes in the sitting room, there was enough light to guide her. It took her less than five minutes to determine that he’d left nothing of value in there.

The bedroom was dark. She opted for her penlight and kept the beam away from the bed, though she would have enjoyed shining it in his face and scaring the life out of him. There would be satisfaction enough in retrieving her necklace, and the diamond cuff links he’d worn that evening.

Adrianne began a silent and thorough search of the room. It would be a damn shame if he’d put everything in the hotel safe. Somehow she didn’t think he had. It would have been late, nearly three, by the time he’d gotten in. Odds were that he’d been suffering from jet lag. As Adrianne saw it, he’d probably come in, dumped everything in a drawer, then crawled into bed.

Underneath his neatly folded shirts from Turnbull, she discovered she’d been right. The light shone on her necklace. Beside it was a mans jewel case in monogrammed alligator. More than the diamond cuff links rested inside. She found other links in heavy gold, a stick pin with a particularly fine topaz, and other assorted pieces of man’s vanity, all tasteful and expensive.

BOOK: Sweet Revenge
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ads

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