Chapter One
Of all the things Jessica Hughes might have expected from her first solo thieving mission, it wasn’t a numb ass.
But numb hers was, from sitting too still too long on a hard chair in a diner across from her quarry’s rented apartment. “They make being a criminal seem so exciting in the movies,” she grumbled to herself, swallowing the last of her third cup of tea. Her full bladder protested, but she was afraid that even the quickest of trips to the restroom would result in missing what she’d been waiting two hours to see—the return of her mark.
The clerk behind the counter chatted on her cell phone about her evening plans to catch some live music, and Jess felt a twinge of regret that she wouldn’t be able to experience the real Nashville. From her quick view of the city on her way to this semi-shady neighborhood from the airport, it looked like a really fun town. But if her plan came together, she’d be back on a plane in less than three hours.
Wearing a 12-carat diamond engagement ring.
She couldn’t wait to see the look on Adam’s face when she showed it to him. Granted, he’d probably be a little annoyed at her methods, but hopefully he’d have a sense of humor about it and appreciate her ingenuity.
For the last month, he’d been teaching her “tips and tricks” on professional thievery, sharing stories and instruction on how he’d survived in such a risky business for so long. She hung on his every word—it was fascinating stuff, after all—but privately despaired that he might be wasting his time. They’d agreed to become a team, but his way wasn’t going to work for her.
Adam had been raised by his uncle Tony, a career thief. By the time he was ten years old, he was pulling jobs. There was very little he hadn’t seen before, very few situations that were brand-new. He relied on instinct, a kind of thieving muscle memory, she’d decided. He planned jobs meticulously, but he was also able to pivot in an instant, to adapt seamlessly to changes.
If that wasn’t intimidating enough, the infuriating man stored everything in his head. There was nothing for her to study. For a Type A, straight-A-in-every-class-ever student, and a woman who’d been told that she was brilliant for most of her adult life...well, Adam’s recent crash course in becoming a thief was making her feel pretty stupid.
Another ten minutes passed and she began to doubt herself. Maybe this wasn’t the right address, after all. Maybe the tracking software didn’t work, and this whole mission was nothing but a wild goose chase. If that was the case, she wasn’t going to mention this little journey to Adam. No need for him to know that she’d gone rogue, only to fail.
On the table, her phone began to buzz. When she saw that it was her father calling, she groaned and sent it straight to voice mail. Not that she was going to listen to whatever stern message he would leave. His voice mails had been almost identical for the last month. Some variation of: “Jessica, this is your father. I want to talk to you about why you haven’t returned to work yet. I know what happened in the spring was unfortunate, but you can’t sit around and do nothing forever. Unacceptable. Call me immediately.”
Call immediately? Um, no. There was no way she could explain to her father the life-changing decisions she’d made lately. He’d never understand. Hell, if a year ago, someone had told her that she’d ignore several high-paying job offers in IT departments at Fortune 500 companies to become a jewel thief, she would have laughed and directed that someone to an asylum. Some days she thought maybe she should check herself into one.
But that’s what falling head-over-heels in love will do to a woman. Adam made her crazy in every definition of the word.
Five months ago, they’d met in the oddest of ways. Adam was trying to steal a huge shipment from a diamond smuggler. She was hoping to catch the same diamond smuggler red-handed to prove he was the reason she’d been fired and humiliated. They’d agreed to a temporary partnership, a partnership which became a lot less temporary after they fell into bed together and saved each other’s lives.
Yep, she thought, a small smile twisting her lips, their love was crazy.
But being with him had taught her appreciation for the gray area of life and crime. Adam’s personal thieving rule was that he only stole from assholes, and insured ones at that. He had more integrity than most people she’d come across in her professional life. Plus, there were parts of his lifestyle that were damn appealing. She’d admit (to herself) that she got a bit of a high from the less-than-legal things she’d done on their last escapade.
And so, she’d proposed a long-term partnership. They were too in love to think about parting and she was looking for a new career opportunity. Why shouldn’t she be an excellent jewel thief? Her technology skills were top-notch, and she figured she could pick up the rest.
But a month in to her thief-training, it was humbling to realize that “the rest” was turning out to be a teensy bit harder than she expected. She just couldn’t role-play like Adam could. Admittedly, her chameleon-like physical appearance was an asset. With wigs, makeup and wardrobe changes she was truly able to look like a multitude of different women. But it wasn’t enough—she just couldn’t transform into another person in an instant, like Adam could. In a parallel universe, he could have been an award-winning actor.
Her? Not so much. She didn’t transform into her covers at all. It was more like she was just Jess-in-a-Halloween-costume. She had a hard time changing her posture and body language, and she absolutely sucked at different voices and accents. During the few times Adam made her practice a cover on a real person, she became stiff and robotic. Wholly unconvincing.
Which was why tonight was so important! Adam had been nothing but patient with her in the last few weeks, but she was impatient with herself. She wanted to be the best partner he could imagine, and she wanted it now. If she could pull off her little shenanigan tonight, she just might impress him.
There! The man she’d been tracking was walking down the street, headed for the apartment building. He was wearing coveralls and a navy hoodie. She could see the goatee on his chin and the glint of an earring in his left ear. He walked in time to some beat coming from his earbuds.
Her quarry’s rented apartment was on the second floor of a three-story walk-up. The first floor was a dry cleaner who’d closed about an hour earlier. The third story was rented by a bunch of college-age frat boy types. They’d been in and out all afternoon, and right now two of them were smoking on the small patio that overlooked the street.
The tall man with the goatee paused by the door, rolled his shoulder and pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. In seconds, he was inside, the door to the street closed behind him. Jess dashed to the bathroom to relieve herself, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. Phase 1: complete. She’d identified the target and found his apartment.
She just happened to know his exact Wednesday night routine too. After coming home from work, he liked to shower and watch ESPN for about thirty minutes before heading out to find dinner. Not much of a cook, her goateed friend. He was partial to an Indian restaurant about three blocks away, and he liked to eat there instead of doing takeout and making his small apartment smell like chana masala. Dinner usually took him about forty-five minutes round-trip. Sometimes a little longer if he stopped for an ice cream on his way home. She smiled a little, reflecting on his weakness for ice cream. Butter Pecan was his favorite, with Rocky Road a close second.
Now she needed to implement her plan to get into the building. The one thing she’d picked up quickly during her training was lock-picking. Probably because she obsessively practiced for at least an hour every day. Those frat boys on the second floor had given her an idea.
Thirty-five minutes later, the goateed man appeared again, now wearing a prominent baseball cap perched backwards on his head. His coveralls had been replaced with a pair of jeans and a sleeveless sports jersey. He continued to jam to music in his earbuds as he ambled down the street.
Jess dropped a couple of dollars of tip on the table and quickly left the diner. She half-jogged down the street to a cheap pizza place. Taking a deep breath—and a wad of cash out of her pocket—she pasted a huge smile on her face and approached the employees at the counter. “Oh my God, you guys. I have such a huge favor to ask.”
It was even easier than she thought. The bored pizza employees were all too happy to help a young woman on a ‘super crazy scavenger hunt.’ They handed over a company hat and shirt when she promised to return them in an hour. Then she ordered a large pizza and waited, heart thumping, for the ten minutes it took to get ready.
Luckily, the frat boys were still messing around on their porch. She didn’t even need to ring their buzzer. “Hey there, got your dinner,” she called up.
A guy in a Predators shirt peered down at her with a furrowed brow. Then he called into the house, “Dano, did you order pizza? Again?”
She’d prepared for this. “It’s all paid for.” She smiled up at him. “I can check who ordered it if I can drop this with you.” She shifted the box in her hands. “It’s kind of hot.”
“Hold on,” Predator-shirt said. “I’ll buzz you up.”
Nice. It was simple to leave the pizza with the guys on the third floor. They were honest enough to admit that none of them had ordered it, but happy to take it when she just shrugged and said it must have been a mistake.
Then she walked down the stairs and focused on the door to the second-floor apartment. It took her seven excruciating minutes to pick the lock, which reduced the amount of time she had to search the apartment to twenty-two minutes. It was small and sparsely furnished. The only real furniture was a cheap double bed in the one bedroom, an ancient recliner in front of an equally antique television in the living room, a badly scarred dining table and a loudly humming refrigerator in the galley kitchen.
Now, where would Mr. Goatee hide an $850,000 diamond ring? She started with the bedroom. The closet was almost completely empty, which surprised her. She’d expected a small safe or lockbox. But only the discarded coveralls lay on the floor. A pair of jeans and familiar blue button-down shirt were the only things hanging.
Nothing was under the bed or between the sheets. At least it’d taken no time to search and there were only two rooms left. But there was nothing under the cushions of the recliner and no way of hiding anything in the television. The wooden table didn’t appear to have any hollow compartments and nothing was taped to the bottom.
Must be in the kitchen. She wondered if he was cliché enough to put it in the freezer. Ice by the ice. She snickered. The linoleum was a little sticky and she scrunched her nose as she opened the fridge. Sheesh, it was loud. Sounded like a generator.
Which was why, she decided later, she didn’t hear him come in.
One minute she was totally on her own, searching in silence. The next, she shut the fridge door and he was there, towering over her and glaring, arms crossed over his broad chest. The fake goatee made his gorgeous face a little harsh, which perfectly matched the pissed off tone of his voice.
“Jesus Christ, Jess. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
* * *
Adam raised one eyebrow and waited for Jess’s response. This should be interesting. She was supposed to be in Chicago right now and meeting him at the San Francisco airport tomorrow afternoon. She was absolutely not supposed to be in Nashville, about to search his freezer.
How the hell had she even found him? She’d agreed to let him handle this one last job on his own. After all, he’d been working on it in small doses for close to a year. Other than a description of the diamond ring, the mark, and what he liked to eat while he was in town he’d shared very little about his cover.
Jess’s initial “oh shit, I’m busted” look disappeared almost instantly into her inimitable poker face. It was one of the first things he’d noticed and admired about her. How, even in the throes of an unexpected situation, she always appeared unfazed. “I haven’t seen you in this disguise before,” she said finally. “The jersey, the hat, the goatee. You look like a much taller version of Turtle from Entourage. After he lost all the weight and got hot, obviously.”
Her analysis of his different looks never failed to amuse. Even now, when he wanted to shake her by the shoulders, his lips twitched. “Explain yourself, Blondie.”
She smiled at him, a full one that crinkled her brown eyes at the corners and made him want to rip the silly pizza-delivery hat off her head and pull her lips to his. “You haven’t called me that in a while,” she murmured.
This was true. It’d been his nickname for her in their uneasy initial partnership, inspired by the epic blond wig she’d been wearing the night they met. But in recent months, she’d just been Jess. His Jess. The woman who made him feel...well, everything. Excitement, desperation, soul-splitting love.
And right now—anger. He reached under his jersey where an intricately designed flat harness was strapped to his chest. He reached into it for his prize and then dangled the diamond in front of her. The enormous emerald-cut diamond by Cartier looked very out of place in the shabby surroundings. “Were you looking for this?” he asked, jaw clenched. “You were going to steal it from me after I’ve been working on this every other Wednesday for eight months?”
“Not steal it, steal it.” She rolled her eyes at him. After a long quiet moment, she flushed and shrugged. “I just wanted to prove myself to you. I figured nothing would pack quite as big a punch as me taking something you’d just stolen.”
Her bottom lip protruded in a pout. “I had this great vision of meeting you at SFO tomorrow. You’d be all cranky and I’d walk up to you, kiss you, and wait for you to notice the huge rock on my finger.”
He had to give it to her; that would have been something. His girl sure did have a flair for the dramatic. He felt the surge of anger draining away. She was too embarrassed and defeated to stay mad at her. Even if she had been ridiculously reckless.
Thank God they were taking things nice and slow on their first official job together. It started tomorrow, and the goals for their trip were nice and easy. They were simply going to gather some intel on the make and model of a safe and do some character assessment of their possible target. Thank goodness they weren’t actually to Stage Five of his thieving process yet. She clearly wasn’t ready.
Although, she did have some surprising skills for a newbie. “How did you find me?” he asked.
“No,” she volleyed back, squinting up at him. “How did you know I was here?”
Dumb luck, he thought, not that he’d admit that to her now. Following his normal, Wednesday-in-Nashville routine, he’d returned to his rental at the same time as usual, but when he approached his apartment building, he felt that particular tingle on the back of his neck. The “I’m being watched” tingle.
It had scared the shit out of him, actually. He wondered if he’d blown the job, although he couldn’t figure out how. Stealing the engagement ring of a D-list reality star from the spa (rehab center) she checked herself into for “exhaustion” every six months had been the smoothest job he’d worked in ages.
At least he knew his instincts still worked. Devising strategies for any number of watchers, he’d showered and changed and headed for the Indian restaurant, but the watched feeling disappeared when he was away from the apartment. So, he circled back, feeling guilty as hell and disgusted with himself when he realized he was checking out the pizza delivery girl’s ass. His ogling really disturbed him for a moment. He hadn’t even looked at another woman since Jess entered his orbit months back.
But then the delivery girl waved up to the guys on the third floor and walked into the apartment, and he felt relieved and furious at the same time. He knew that wave and he knew that walk. He was attracted to the girl in the oversized baseball cap because it was Jess.
“Adam, tell me,” she insisted. “How did you know I was here?”
He relented. “I felt your eyes on me when I came home from work,” he said. “I knew someone was watching. I pretended to go to dinner but then I came back and saw you in the doorway.”
He wanted to stroke her face and brush his knuckles against her obscenely full eyelashes until she smiled, but didn’t know if it was a good idea to touch her with the spark of temper still in place. It might easily transform into another kind of passion. “We need to work on your posture and mannerisms, Blondie. You might be wearing the clothes of an anonymous pizza girl, but your body language is still all Jess.”
She huffed and tightened her lips—her customary response when she didn’t do something perfectly the first time. Patience, he thought fondly, was not her strong suit.
Her brow furrowed. “Since I’m here now anyway, can you tell me about the job?”
He sighed. “You know how I’m always telling you the setup is important? If you can, you establish yourself in the area before the target; it moves you lower on any potential list of suspects. Well, I knew that Stacey Jenkinson would be back at the rehab center one of these months, so I signed on as a contractor with the company that washes the windows at the facility. They know me as a guy who only works every other Wednesday.”
He held up the diamond again. It caught the faint twilight from the dusty window and projected tiny prism rainbows on the wall. “She’s a beauty,” he said. “But I’ve taken a lot of red eye flights and washed a lot of windows for her in the past eight months.”
She smiled a little. “I was just thinking earlier that being a jewel thief isn’t how they show it in the movies.”
Yeah, he’d been trying to drill that into her head for the last month. Sure, there were disguises and lies and travel, but there was also endless waiting and researching and occasional manual labor. “Sure isn’t,” he said. “It’s just another kind of job.” A very lucrative job, though. After he cleared the 30% for his fence and subtracted his expenses, this endeavor would bring in just over half a million dollars. Not at all bad for an eight month part-time job.
She looked at the floor and blew air out of her nostrils. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you?”
“Eleven when I first walked in. Six now.”
She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “Would that number go down if we went to get Indian food and ice cream together?”
“We can’t, Jess.” He struggled to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “I’m still in the middle of a job here. There are video cameras everywhere. You know that better than anyone. If I become a suspect, which is a good possibility since I won’t be showing up for work in two weeks—and then you and I go on a little date tonight and we’re captured on some gas station surveillance tape—you’re implicated too. Sweetheart, you’ve always got to—”
“Think about the long game,” she chanted. “I know. I’ve heard you. You’re right.” But her mouth turned down at the corners.
Shit. His anger was fading at record speed. He hated to see her so discouraged. Hell, he’d love to take her on a real Nashville date. Or any date. That was one thing about their unusual relationship; they didn’t get to do too many usual things.
“I’ll go,” she said. “I’ll fly back to Chicago tonight and meet you in San Francisco tomorrow as planned. One question first, though. You were going to dinner for less than an hour in a not-great neighborhood. Why did you carry the diamond on you instead of hiding it somewhere here? Why not beef up security on your apartment and leave the diamond in a safe or something? In these surroundings, isn’t it riskier to carry it around with you?”
Christ, he dug this woman. She was angry, sad, annoyed—and still trying to learn. He finally gave into the urge to touch her. He raised his hand to her chin, traced the high angle of her cheekbone. “You never know when you might have to run,” he said. “What if it wasn’t you watching me tonight? What if it was a cop? Once I realized I was being watched, I could have taken off—with the diamond.”
On its own, his hand trailed from her face, down her throat, and cupped the nape of her neck. “If you can do it easily, you carry the take.”
“Carry the take,” she repeated, nodding adorably. “Got it.”
His heart clenched in his chest, timed impeccably to the twist of lust felt everywhere else. Fuck, she killed him. Before he could think better of it, he knocked the silly hat off her head and yanked her to him for a long, hard kiss. After a tiny, surprised gasp, she opened her mouth and moved her lips furiously against his, a moan in the back of her throat. She smelled like tomato sauce and tasted like peppermint tea, and he would have taken her against the refrigerator with her legs around his waist in thirty seconds if a squad car hadn’t driven by with its siren screaming.
She broke away, trembling and giggling. “I better go.”
Adam thought about walking her out, but a glance down at his jeans told him he’d be better off waiting a few minutes before going out in even semi-public. He grabbed her hat off the floor and pressed it into her hands. “Return the pizza clothes, get back on a plane and destroy your current ID.”
She sniffed up at him. “Shoot. I kinda liked this one.” Then she gave a philosophical shrug. “Oh well. So long, Mary Allen Wilkes.”
He stifled a grin. Jess had decided to follow his lead when it came to aliases. Since his own name was Adam Patrick Henry, he liked to create IDs with the names of famous revolutionaries. The night he met Jess he was “Michael Collins.” An IT geek to the core, Jess had decided her aliases would be based on women in computing. From her enthusiastic lecturing, he happened to know that Mary Allen Wilkes, in 1965, was the first person to use a computer in a private home and the first developer of an operating system for the first minicomputer.
“Yes,” he said firmly. “Fly as Mary home, then she’s gone for good. For God’s sake, follow the plan for tomorrow.”
She gave him a mocking salute and then a sassy wink. “Yeah, yeah. Relax, gorgeous. I know what I’m doing.”
He heard her footsteps bouncing down the stairs and sighed. His lovely new partner was a loose cannon.