Thieves Like Us
Janet. And someone will be looking for them.”
    She knew he was right and felt the first prick of apprehension. “You know the jewelry trade. Will they be able to trace the necklace back to me?”
    “All too easily. Portman’s had it, and believe me, they’ll be talking about it. You showing up at Portman’s with that necklace is like someone walking into an art gallery with a missing Picasso. It’s news. Word will travel through the legitimate people in the industry, to the slightly less legitimate, right down to the shady fences you don’t want to meet. Everyone will know the Pellinni necklace has reappeared—and who had it.”
    She was afraid of that. “And you think someone will break in here, hoping to steal them from me.”
    His smile was forced. “Definitely. Whoever secretly owned that collection paid a lot for it. You’d better believe he wants it back before the FBI gets their hands on it and returns it to that museum in Germany, which is probably where the necklace will be going soon. Look at it this way: Most people think the necklace has been found. But someone out there thinks of it as lost. Missing from his private collection. And if he doesn’t move fast, the rest of the pieces will be lost, too.”
    She wasn’t ready to panic, but she knew the implications. “So I’m in danger.”
    “Let’s just say not all jewel thieves are as charming and suave as the one you know.”
    She couldn’t resist a sly comeback. “Or as filled with self-admiration?”
    He flashed his killer smile again. “Well, they might be, but of course it’s sadly misplaced.”
    “Of course.” Things were starting to feel too friendly, considering her determination to keep him at a distance. “Look, all kidding aside—”
    “I’m not kidding.” He cut her off, his light tone suddenly sharp. “This is not a game, and the people who will be looking for the jewels are deadly serious. Emphasis on deadly.”
    “I understand.” He’d stepped closer, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not helpless. You know I have an excellent security system, because you installed it yourself.”
    “Windows can be broken, wires can be cut, doors can be smashed in.”
    Irritation flickered. She knew what he wanted; he wanted her to move out. The ironic part was, if this had happened a year from now when she was more secure in her independence, she might not have argued. Logic told her he was right. But he’d touched on a purely emotional issue. She’d just rid herself of the last trace of her controlling ex-husband, and hearing another man tell her what to do aroused in her an irrational stubbornness.
    “I’ve been held captive by drug lords and faced down a killer. You didn’t know me well back then, but you were there, so you know I’m capable of handling myself.”
    “I know you’re brave.” His face softened. “But you’re not bulletproof, Janet.”
    Damn, he could be pretty persuasive when he stood that close and looked that concerned. Also, when he was right. “I’ll consider leaving,” she said.
    “Soon.”
    “Don’t push.” She said it quietly, needing him to understand.
    He studied her, then gave a brief nod. “Okay. But one question. If it were someone else asking, would you move out now?”
    She did a mental stumble. Would she? Or was she simply resisting him on principal, trying to push him away?
    She
did
want to push him away. Having him near awoke a desire she thought Banner had killed, a desire she couldn’t trust. It turned out that attempted murder was a good cure for following one’s heart. She couldn’t risk being with Rocky, not when he made her feel so confused and flushed and—what was the question?
    She stuck her hands in her pockets, feeling suddenly awkward. “It has nothing to do with you. I keep telling you, not everything does.”
    His lips curved up slowly, as if the thought behind his smile kept getting better and better. “But some things do, don’t they?” he
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