Sweet Revenge

and some microchips. Once inside the vault, I had to bypass two backup alarms and jam the cameras, then I was home free. Once I was snug in my room, I tripped the alarms with a remote control.”
    “You tripped the alarms while you were still in the house?”
    “What better way?” Her appetite came back, so she spread more jam on toast. “I’d pushed the diamond into my face cream, though, of course, they never searched my belongings.”
    “Of course.”
    “I was there to be awakened at four A.M . by the alarms, and to be horrified with Lady Caroline.”
    Philip watched her nip into the bread and jam. “One might call that cold.”
    “She didn’t rate my sympathy. She has forty million pounds in real assets, and gives less than one half of one percent to charity.”
    He tilted his head to study her. “Is that your gauge for a deserving mark?”
    “Yes. I know what it is to be poor, to need, to hate being in need. I promised myself that I wouldn’t forget.” She moved her shoulders as if soothing an old ache. “When my mother died, I continued to steal.”
    “Why?”
    “Two reasons. The first is that it gave me the opportunityto spread the wealth of people who would have kept it locked in both hands, or buried in dark vaults. Madeline Moreau’s sapphire was liquidated into a hefty contribution to the Widows’ and Orphans’ Fund.”
    Philip pitched his cigarette over the terrace, then took a long drink of cooling coffee. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve been playing Robin Hood?”
    Adrianne thought that one out. It was an interesting and appealing comparison. “In a manner of speaking, but it’s more honest to say it’s a business. I do take a commission. Not only is stealing expensive when you consider the overhead in equipment and time, but it pays to keep up appearances. Besides, I don’t like being poor.”
    “I never had much use for it myself.” He plucked a flower out of the centerpiece and twirled it. “How much commission?”
    “That would vary, generally between fifteen and twenty percent, depending on the initial outlay for the job. For example, the St. Johns’ jewelry.” She ticked off on her fingers. “I had my airfare, my hotel bill—this one. I wouldn’t count the bill at the El Grande.”
    “Naturally not.”
    “Then there’s food, the maid’s uniform and wig—oh, and a few long distance calls. Any shopping or excursions are, of course, my own expense.”
    “Of course.”
    She met his eyes with a level look. “You’re in a difficult position to judge, Philip, since you spent a great deal of your life being a thief.”
    “I’m not judging, I’m amazed. First you’re telling me that you did all of these jobs, all of these years, on your own.”
    “That’s right. Didn’t you?”
    “Yes, but …” He held up a hand. “All right. Now you’re telling me that for the past few years you’ve been giving away all except a fifteen to twenty percent commission?”
    “More or less.”
    “An eighty percent contribution to charity.”
    “In my way, I’m a philanthropist.” Then she grinned. “And I do enjoy my work. You know how it feels to hold millions in your hands. To watch diamonds glitter in your palms and know they’re yours because you’re clever.”
    “Yes.” He understood all too well. “I know how it feels.”
    “And when the night’s cold and the wind’s in your face as you scale a building. Your hands are steady as rocks and your mind is so sharp it’s like the edge of a knife. The anticipation is so great—it’s like the instant before you open a bottle of Dom Pérignon, just that instant before the cork flies off and all the excitement bubbles out.”
    He drew another cigarette out of the pack. It was more than that, he thought. It was a bit like the instant before your seed and the passion with it burst out of you and into a woman. “I know how addictive it can be. I also know there comes a time to quit while you’re on top.”
    “Like you did?”
    “That’s right. A smart gambler knows when the odds are stacking up too high and when it comes time to change games.” He blew out smoke. “You’ve given me one reason, Addy. What’s the other?”
    She didn’t answer immediately, but instead rose and moved to the railing overlooking the beach. She couldn’t say she trusted him. Indeed, why should she? But like recognized like. He’d been a thief, and perhaps was enough of one still to appreciate what she planned to do