Queen of Diamonds (11 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Logan leaned against her rental his legs crossed, his posture relaxed. He had no intention of acknowledging the nerves jumping under his skin and ramming against his stomach.

He held out his hand, palm up. “Give it to me.”

“I’m sorry, but you obviously have me confused with someone else.” She started to walk past him.

He shifted to the left, directly into her path. “Good try.”

“I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about.” Her jaw was clenched, each word pushed out a throat whose pulse pounded madly.

He snorted. “It’s over, Kendall. Give it to me.”

She straightened and stuck out her chin. “Why, so you can turn me into the police? Is that how your story ends?”

He looked at her and watched the change from stunned disbelief to white-hot anger. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d thrown a punch with those clenched fists.

“No, I have a different ending in mind entirely.”

“You’re going to keep it?”

“Not your concern. But from here on you’re out of the heisting business.  Now give me the ring and get in your car and drive home.”

“I don’t think so.” Her eyes sparking, she bit out each word.

He reached over and grabbed her arms. When she tried to pull them loose, his grip tightened.

“Let go of me.”

A well-dressed gentleman, who obviously worked out, stepped up to them. “Is everything okay, miss?”

Before Kendall could frame a reply Logan interjected. “My fiancé and I are in a bit of a debate over the style of ring she likes. She wants six carats and I feel it’s a bit ostentatious. What do you think?”

He had the satisfaction of seeing his publicist’s jaw drop.

The would-be Good Samaritan took a close look at him for the first time. “Say aren’t you Logan Hunter?”

Logan eased his grip and hoped Kendall didn’t bolt. “That’s correct.”

“And you say you’re getting married?”

“You’re the first to know, so we’d appreciate it if you’d keep it under your hat, until it’s been announced.”

“Of course, of course. May I have your autograph?”

Kendall snorted. Her expression disgusted.

“Sure.”

The man whipped out a pen and small notebook from his inside pocket.

“Your name?”

“Ken Reeves.”

He wrote quickly, ready to take after her if she ran.
You’re the first to know, Ken. Logan Hunter.
“Say thanks a million.” He shook both their hands and walked away, pulling out his phone as he did so. He swiveled and waved then disappeared around the corner.

Kendall watched after him shaking her head.

Logan’s already frayed nerves gave and he wiped at his damp forehead before he turned to Kendall his patience gone. “Give me that ring, get in the car and drive home or so help me I’ll shake you ’til your teeth rattle.”

“You try it and I’ll kick your ass.” She crouched ready to spring at him.

There was a fifty-fifty chance she could do it too. He held out his hand. “Give me the ring, Kendall, then get the hell out of here.”

Sirens sounded in the distance. As they drew nearer, uncertainty flickered in her eyes. He held her gaze, the police only moments away.

“Fine!” She reached in her purse and plopped it in his hand.  “Don’t expect me to bail you out of jail when you get caught.”

“Noted. We’ll talk later.”

She gave him one last seething look then hopped in the car, tied a gray scarf around her head and drove away without a backward glance.

Lights flashing, the police cars came into view then raced on by.

Whoosh
. The breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding rushed out of his lungs in a long push. 

He studied the ring in his hand. It was a beauty. He tossed it in the air, caught it and slid it in his pocket before he straightened his shoulders and strode into the jewelry store.

Chapter Eighteen

Kendall gripped the wheel in a red-hot rage. But beneath the heat, pure fear traveled under her skin and raised goose bumps on her arms and legs. Just like pressure from the weather, the heat and ice inside her was a storm in the making.
That hustler
. He’d played her. Set her up.  And she had taken the bait, hook, line and sinker. She hadn’t believed it was a trap because she didn’t want to. She’d gotten cocky and arrogant, giving herself too much credit and him to little. And look where it had gotten her. “What am I going to do about you, Momma?” she whispered hunched over the wheel. She could keep her mom where she was for four, maybe five months, after that…She straightened her spine, she’d find a way.

A glance in the rearview mirror reminded her she still had her wig on. She whipped it off and tossed it in the back seat. Because there’d been so much press on her tactics of having enough rings on the counter no one noticed when she walked out with one, she’d changed her strategy.

She’d had a business associate make her a good replica. Since she hadn’t given him much notice, she’d paid through the nose, but it had been worth it. The man was an artist in his own right. If she hadn’t found the right clerk, today would have been her walk through and she would have come back tomorrow.  Since she had, she’d swapped the rings when she’d dug in her purse for a tissue. Damn Logan. In all likelihood the switch wouldn’t have been discovered for months.

She tapped her nails against the wheel in time to the pulse pounding madly in her wrists. What did he intend to do now?

~*~

Apparently, let her stew in her own juices. She thought for sure she would have heard from him Friday evening and here it was seven o’clock Sunday night. At least the police hadn’t shown up at her door. She really didn’t think he’d turn her in, but she was never completely sure of him. He seldom did what she expected. When the UPS man had rang the doorbell she’d nearly jumped out of her skin.

“You’re about to wear a hole in the carpet,” her dad observed from his recliner where he sat with the control in one hand and beer in the other.

She plopped down on the couch where Caroline lay sleeping, breathed deep from her belly and tried to get control of her twitchy muscles.

“Tell me again why you came back so early Friday?”

She counted to ten, then fifteen. How many times did they have to have this conversation? “When I got there, the person I was going to interview was sick so I turned around and came back home.”

“And where was that again?”

“Georgia, Dad. It was in Georgia.”

He threw a new one at her. “And why haven’t we seen Logan this weekend?”

“He had a date.”

“Huh,” he grunted, changed the channel and much to Kendall’s relief, the subject. She stared unseeingly at the screen until the news came on and her body jerked to attention. Leaning forward she stared at the screen through one story after another. When the weather came on with no mention of the stolen diamond, she collapsed against the sofa. Surely, he’d returned the ring. Ice washed through her. She could still get blamed for the theft.

She put her head in her hands and groaned.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Headache, Dad.”

“Why don’t you go on to bed?  I’ll bring the munchkin up.”

“Thanks.”

She kissed the top of his head before fleeing to her room. At the window, she watched a shooting star blaze across the sky. “Wish I could hitch a ride,” she whispered. Her musings were interrupted by a ping from her phone. She glanced at it and her hand shook. A text from Logan
. Oh
great
.

See you tomorrow at eight. Oh by the way, why don’t you pick up some croissants at the bakery?  Logan

She threw the phone on the bed. This was his way of telling her not to chicken out tomorrow. He expected her at work. She hoped to hell the cops wouldn’t be there waiting.

Chapter Nineteen

Pastry bag in hand she stopped on the landing of the townhouse and straightened her shoulders. What was the worst that could happen? She decided not to go there. She took a deep breath, shoved open the door and walked upstairs to his study.

He sat at his desk, his hair a little wild like he’d been running nervous fingers through it. He looked up. She waited for him to speak, her pulse thrumming in her ears. The silence between them stretched. Her eloquent boss seemed at a loss for words. He cleared his throat. “Ah, Ms. Theron.”

She held up the pastry sack.

“Thanks, why don’t you grab us some coffee?”

“Sure.” She went to the kitchen, poured two cups and came back.

He was pacing, his long rangy legs eating up the distance from one side of the room to the other. Edgy energy radiated from him and permeated the room.

Tension between them built. Still he said nothing.

Unable to stand the silence, she burst out, “Go ahead and say whatever you have to say.”

He turned on her, his eyes sparking. “Your father should have beaten you hard and often as a child.”

She drew herself up. “My father never laid a hand on me.”

“That’s my point.”

“And for all your trash talk you’d never hit a woman or child either.”

He came to a stop in front of her. “No I wouldn’t but you certainly press the fantasy button. What were you thinking, Kendall?” Bewilderment flickered across his features. “How could you risk letting that little girl lose her momma?”

For a moment everything inside her stilled and went soft. He wasn’t as concerned about the theft, the breakdown in society’s mores, as he was her child. She glanced at him then glanced quickly away. “My mother,” she began then stopped. How could she explain the need to protect the person who’d spent her life protecting her?  That she’d do anything, run any risk, to return that lovely person to the vibrant personality she’d once been, not the shell she’d become. Her throat clogged and she looked away.

“I know you did it for your mother. But my God, if you’d gotten caught.”

The timbre of his voice had her glancing up. “It was a calculated risk. And my dad would have taken care of Caroline.”

He shuddered. “Surely, you could have found another way?”

“What, sell my body?”

“Good God not that.” He laughed breaking the tension then straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. He swallowed and rubbed his neck then reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a small black velvet box and handed it to her.

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s this?”

“Open it.”

She flipped the lid with her thumb. Her mouth dropped, her breath caught and a haze formed in front of her eyes. “Oh my God you kept it! I stole it and you kept it. I’ll end up in jail for sure.”

This time his mouth dropped. “For crying out loud, it’s bought and paid for.” He scraped a hand through his hair. “This isn’t working out at all well. I’m fumbling badly.”

Her heart picked up a beat and thumped hard against her ribs. What was he trying to say?

He grabbed it out of her hands, picked up a sheet of paper off his desk and thrust it at her. “Here I wrote the ending first.”

“What?”  Beads of perspiration popped on her forehead and her thoughts swirled in a mindless eddy of confusion.

“Just read it.” 

She perused the paper clutched in her hand.
He’d set the trap and caught his quarry. The elusive Queen of Diamonds had pulled her last heist. It hadn’t been easy. The woman was smart and cagey, but he was determined. He’d dangled the diamond and the location, and she’d gone for it. He knew she’d never be able to resist.

Kendall threw him a hot look and ground her teeth before continuing to read.

He’d rented a car and followed her rental at a safe distance. When she’d come out of the jewelry store he’d been waiting. He’d taken the ring and once she’d driven away, he’d gone to the jeweler and telling him, he’d found it, paid for it. The jeweler didn’t know what to think but as long as he had his money he didn’t care. Though, he had been surprised to find the replica in his case.

He gave the queen two days to calm down then placed the ring on her finger, his intentions clear. He loved her and wanted her in his bed. Not visiting her behind bars. He’d even take care of the mother who she had risked everything for. She was safe and she was his. No longer the Queen of Diamonds, she’d become the Queen of Hearts.

“Do…”A lump in her throat made speaking difficult so she swallowed and tried again. “Do you intend to publish this?”

He stuck his hands in his back pockets and rocked on his heels. “Oh I intend to finish writing it. Publish it? No. I’m afraid it hits a little too close to home, since the principle player is my wife.”

As her nerves increased, his seemed to decrease.

“Wife?” Her pulse jumped and beat erratically. Her legs tingled and made standing difficult.

“Yes. You need a keeper.”

Affronted, she drew herself up and hoisted her chin in the air. “I have no desire or inclination to marry and I certainly don’t need a keeper.”

He pulled her to him. “Be that as it may, I do want to get married and being the selfish person you know me to be, I must insist.”

He tightened his grip and kissed her, thoroughly. When he finally let her go, she stared at him dazed, her breathing shallow. “And you really bought the ring?”

“I’ve got the receipt if you want to see it.” He reached over, opened the little box and slid the ring on her finger. She turned it back and forth, admiring it from all angles as it caught the rays of the sun from the window and made prisms throughout the room.

“I bet you never gave Bambi anything like this.”

“Count on it.”

“Did he give you a discount? He offered me twenty-five percent off.”

He sighed. “No, given the circumstances, I didn’t dicker.”

“You must love me.”

He gathered her closer. “I must. I also love your darling daughter and her haystacks. I’d like to adopt her if you’ll let me.”

She put a hand to her lips and her eyes filled. After a moment, her voice husky, she responded. “I’d like that.”

“Enough to get rid of your married lover?”

She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “If you insist.”

His grip on her tightened. “I do.”

“It’ll break his heart.”

“Better than me breaking his nose.”

She laughed. “Where did this violent streak come from?”

“You bring out the beast in me.” He nipped her lightly on the neck.

“Apparently. You know there was no married lover right?”

“I was ninety-nine percent sure,” he murmured his breath warm in her ear. “And now that’s settled how about some champagne to celebrate?”

“At eight in the morning?”  Her eyebrows went up.

“We can throw some orange juice in and call it mimosas.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” She drew his head back and gave him a look that had his heart pounding and his blood heating. Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt.

He backed up and grinned. “My dear Ms. Theron, I must insist you behave like a professional when you are in the office.”

Her shoulders back, she stalked toward him. Stopping so close she could feel his heat, she grabbed his head and yanked it down. Her lips on his she murmured, “Haven’t you figured out by now, I never follow the rules,” and proceeded to prove her point in a most satisfactory manner.

The End