The Lady Is a Thief (8 page)

 
   
Louis
duMonde
stepped out of the back of the car. In addition to Louis were his driver and a
third man who remained in shadow on the passenger side of the car.

 
   
“
Bonjour, ma petite
.”
Louis spread his arms wide as he
strolled over to the steps. Jarod shifted, and effectively blocked Louis'
access.

 
   
“Viscount.
What an
unexpected…” She would not say pleasure, definitely never a pleasure to see
him. “…surprise.”

 
   
“But is that not what a surprise is?” Louis'
smile didn't quite touch his eyes and the pleasant expression faltered when
Jarod didn't move. “
Pardon, Monsieur
.
Mademoiselle and I have much to discuss.”

 
   
Her gut twisted. But Jarod didn't move. “The
lady has other plans.”

 
   
Louis paused and his smile evaporated
completely. “Oh?” His cool gaze swept up the stairs and draped her in its chill
assessment. “I believe our business won't take very long,
Monsieur
. You can wait.”

 
   
Unpredictable, volatile
and dangerous.
Those words didn't do Louis justice. Shifting the bag
against her shoulder, Kit finished her descent and slid her arm through
Jarod's. If surprised by her choice, the man gave a brilliant performance
because it didn't show. “Yes, Mr.
duMonde
,
I am busy. You know better than to try and ambush me.” She
tsked
.
“And at an airport of all places.
Where are your
manners?”

 
   
Jarod tucked her hand into the crook of his
elbow and led her toward her car, putting himself firmly between her and Louis.
She appreciated the gesture, but the adrenaline flooding her system kept her
wary and watchful. The two men at the car didn't move, but she could almost
feel the weight of their gazes.

 
   
Louis cut around to block their path and he
reached out, catching her face in his cold hands and pressed a pair of even
cooler kisses to her cheeks. At her right cheek, he murmured, “Lose the
boyfriend, or I'll remove him for you.”

 
   
Before she could respond, Jarod hauled Louis
off of her and had his hand in a thumb lock. The Frenchman
staggered,
his face a twisted mask of pain. “Allow me to remind you, Viscount
duMonde
, that one doesn't touch a
lady unless she's invited it.”

 
   
The two men at the car started in their
direction.
“Jarod.”
Kit put a hand to his shoulder,
but a glint of light bouncing off metal in one of the goons' hands and she
swallowed her next words.

 
   
“You stay right there, gentlemen. I've
already contacted airport security.” The rasp of metal being locked and loaded
echoed through the hanger. She didn't dare take her eyes off Louis' men. Jarod
glanced from the men to the co-pilot to Louis. Fury simmered in the Viscount's
face.

 
   
“You have this?”

 
   
“Yes, sir.
If you
would like to go ahead and escort Lady Hardwicke, we'll take care of this.” The
Captain answered. He'd exited on the other side of the plane and walked around
her, a handgun in his hand, now trained on Louis.

 
   
“Excellent.” Jarod gave Louis a little shove
as he released him. The Frenchman didn't fall, but he did stumble back a few
feet. He held out a hand to Kit and she took it. Relief swamped her, but didn't
take the edge off her worry. “Shall we?”

 
   
“Absolutely.”
She
found the word, surprised that it didn't tremble. He led her over to the car,
giving the others a wide berth. So focused on them, she barely noticed it when
Jarod tucked her into the passenger seat, set their bags in the backseat and
circled around to slide behind the wheel. Kit never looked away from Louis.

 
   
This wasn't the first time she'd crossed
him.

 
   
But the hatred on his face promised her it
would be the last.

 
   
 
Jarod
backed the car up and pulled out of the hanger ahead of the flashing security
lights driving up. He reached over and put his hand on her leg. “You okay?”

 
   
She shuddered, fumbling for a way to fill
the silence. “I think I just messed up your meeting.”

 
   
“Eh.” He shrugged and she caught a brief
glimpse of his smile in the illumination from the dashboard. “I don't like to
do business with assholes anyway.”

 
   
She laughed.

 
   
“And now I think we're three and one, don't
you?” At his broader grin, she laughed harder.

 
   
“Touché.”

 
   
S
he
fell
asleep, head tipped back and turned toward the
window. Jarod sighed and rested his wrist against the steering wheel. They
headed north and west away from Los Angeles County. She said Malibu, initially,
but the barest of hitch in her words after their encounter suggested to him
Malibu was the first thing that came to mind.

 
   
Like a cat, she didn't let little tumbles
upset her. Landing on her proverbial feet, she rallied to his invasion of her
plane, to the misguided belief that her father sent him, and their flirtation.
But
duMonde
?

 
   
He
scared the hell out of her.
He wasn't sure if they were in some type of
collusion when he boarded the plane to New York from London, but thirty minutes
into that first meeting and he couldn't see how this self-possessed firecracker
with her independent spirit and playful nature could work with a narcissistic
psychopath.

 
   
Thankfully, his earlier suspicions proved
wrong.
But they are involved on some
level…insofar as
duMonde
is after her. Did she steal
the Buddha from him?

 
   
Thief.

 
   
The five-cent word didn't do the
million-dollar woman justice. Beyond his suspicions and some circumstantial
evidence, he didn't have any real proof that Lady Katherine Hardwicke stole
The Fortunate Buddha
.

 
   
But
she did. I know she did.
duMonde
suspects the same—and…
She shifted in the seat next to him and he glanced
over to see her eyes open. She covered a yawn.

 
   
“My apologies…”

 
   
“No apology required.” He didn't resist the
urge to touch her thigh again, rubbing his knuckles against her knee lightly,
soothing. “It's been a long night.” Dropping the kernel of information about
duMonde
in her lap allowed him to observe her reaction. Her
immediate discomfort, no matter how she tried to disguise it, pleased him.

 
   
He didn't want her in business or bed with
duMonde
. But the lack of alliance also meant he needed to
keep a warier eye out. The game over
The
Fortunate Buddha
continued to escalate. The little gold statue and the
promise of good luck it gave to those who rubbed its belly created so much
grief in its wake.

 
   
“Jarod.”
She sat
up, shifting her leg away. He withdrew his hand, albeit reluctantly. “I
appreciate everything, but you should drive us to where you are staying and
then I'll leave you to do your business in peace.”

 
   
“I'd rather wait until you're safely where
you need to be.” Particularly since the heiress didn't travel with a bodyguard.
He knew her driver in New York doubled as security and in Europe she often
traveled with personal guards. So why shed that layer of protection here unless
she wanted to hide her activities?

 
   
“You're very sweet.” The 'but' hung off the
end of that sentence like an accessory.

 
   
“But?”
He said it
for her.

 
   
“But, we've only just met and while I've
thoroughly enjoyed our time together, it is time to say our goodbyes.” Despite
the overstatement, he didn't hear a lie.

 
   
So,
how do I play this?
Gut reaction; find a way to stick with her.
But that's not about the Buddha, that's
about me.
Arguably, it was also about protecting her. When
duMonde
put his hands on her face, all Jarod could see was
how swiftly he could have snapped her neck. The French bastard was lucky he
hadn't broken his hand. The instinct to keep her safe ran high and contrary to
his primary mission.

 
   
Thief
or not, she doesn't deserve to be shot, beaten, or threatened.
He flexed
his fingers against the steering wheel. Letting her 'go' to lead him to the
Buddha accomplished the goal. Once he took it back,
duMonde
would have no reason to continue his pursuit.

 
   
As if
that would stop him…

 
   
It wouldn't.

 
   
“Jarod?”
Concern
filtered through the question in her voice.

 
   
“I'm a little worried about the Viscount's
intentions.” The key to a good lie rested in layering it in elements of the
truth.

 
   
“Louis…” She waved a hand in the air, but
let go of whatever thread of story she was about to share. “You don't have to
worry about him. Now that I know he's in the area, I can avoid him.”

 
   
“He had two armed men with him, Kit Kat. I
don't think he wants to be avoided.” He controlled his inflections, too pushy
and she'd resist. Too blasé and she might not take the threat seriously. If she
hadn't left for Los Angeles immediately following that meeting, he would be
more embedded with her.

 
   
“The Viscount likes to throw his weight
around, but he's nothing for you to worry about. I won't be in the area all
that long. In fact, I planned to drive north after we landed, hence the car.”

 
   
“How far north?”

 
   
“We have a house in
Malibue
.”

 
   
Lips quirking into a small smile, he
swallowed a chuckle. That wasn't an answer or her destination but she did speak
the truth. “Okay, how about a compromise?”

 
   
“I'm listening.” Amusement softened the hint
of warning in her tone.

 
   
“I'll take you to the house in Malibu. Make
sure you're behind locked gates, as it were, and then I'll head out.” He held
up a finger when she opened her mouth as if to agree. Glancing at her, he
grinned. “If…you agree to have dinner with me when you're back in Los Angeles.”

 
   
“I didn't say anything about coming back to
Los Angeles.” She avoided the question. “And you live in New York.”

 
   
“Fine, agree to have dinner with me in L.A.,
New York, London—wherever.” He gritted his teeth at the slip, but forced his
hands to stay relaxed. The darkness offered him a cloak of sorts from her
all-too-observant eyes, but passing cars illuminated the interior regularly.

 
   
“You are a determined man, Jarod.” She
leaned her head back against the seat.

 
   
“That's not a
no
.”
He followed the highway curve to head toward Malibu.

 
   
“True. It wasn't a yes, either.”
Stubborn.
Sassy.
Sexy.
Smart.

 
   
“Agreed.
So no acceptance, but no outright rejection.
In business, we
call that a status quo.”

 
   
“Are you suggesting that you'll just keep
driving around until I give you an answer? Or until I give you the answer you
want?” The headlights of a passing car played over her face and revealed her
pursed lips.