Sweet Revenge

to pay for the ultimate goal.
    She came out of the tunnel into the king’s apartment. He would be asleep in the bedroom beyond. Alone—whichever wife he had chosen for the night sent back to her own bed after her duty was done.
    She could smell him here faintly, in the sandalwood incense he preferred. And she wondered how many timesher mother had been summoned to these rooms like a bitch singled out for breeding.
    For a moment, just a moment, she was tempted to fling open the door to his bedroom, to wake him out of smug sleep and tell him everything she felt, everything that had sprouted and grown out of those early bitter seeds. But that satisfaction would last only as long as the words did. She wanted more than that, much more.
    The guards didn’t change until an hour before dawn. Adrianne glanced at the luminous dial of her watch and gauged the time she had. Enough, she thought. More than enough.
    The hallway was deserted, dark, silent. From the blueprint in her mind she turned down it and made her way to the adjoining wing. She moved to the door of the vault room and, crouching, began to pick the lock. Her hands were steady enough, but they were sweating. Annoyed, she wiped them on her skirt before she finished the job. With a quick look right and left she slipped inside, then shut and locked the door behind her.
    When a hand clamped over her mouth, her heart stopped. When it started again, she swore at Philip. Jerking away, she switched the narrow beam of her flashlight in his face.
    “You do that again, you’re going to lose that hand.”
    “Glad to see you too.” He bent to kiss her. “Had a little trouble with the lock, did you?”
    “No.” She started to brush by him, then turned and threw her arms around his neck. “Philip, I didn’t know I’d miss you so much.”
    He nuzzled into her hair, into the scent, into the texture. “Well. It gets better and better. What were you doing all day while I was getting a tour of the city?”
    “Drinking endless cups of tea, listening to a recital on fertility and childbirth, and being fitted for my wedding dress.”
    “You don’t sound as if you enjoyed any of it.”
    “It’s difficult, I didn’t know how difficult to deceive my grandmother. And I don’t like being pinned into white satin for a wedding that’s only a show.”
    “Then we’ll make it more.”
    He said it lightly, but she couldn’t find any amusementin his eyes. “You know how I feel about that, and this isn’t the time to discuss it. Have you looked at the vault?”
    “Top to bottom.” He shone his light on the steel door. “From the specs, there’s an alarm wired to each lock. Time-consuming, but fairly straightforward. We’ll clamp those as you suggested. I’ve a good feel for combinations, so it shouldn’t take long.”
    “This should help.” She handed him a dial as thick as his thumb and half again as wide as a quarter. “It’s an amplifier. I’ve been working on it for a while. Put it against the door there and it should pick up a sneeze three rooms away.”
    Thoughtful, Philip played his light over it. “You designed this?”
    “Redesigned, really. I wanted something compact as well as sensitive.”
    “For someone who didn’t finish school, you do have an amazing knack for electronics.”
    “Natural talent. I estimate an hour to open the vault.”
    “Forty minutes, fifty on the outside.”
    “Let’s give it sixty.” She smiled and touched his cheek. “No reflection on your talent, darling.”
    “A thousand pounds says I do it in forty.”
    “Done. Now then, you won’t be able to start safely until three. At two-thirty I’ll start on the alarms. It’ll work more smoothly if you come directly here. Don’t touch anything until three. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
    “I don’t like the idea of your handling that part alone.”
    “I’d be handling the entire job alone if I had my way. Start with the top dial and work down.”
    “We’ve been over this, Addy. I know how to open a vault.”
    She walked past him, drawing out the key. “Don’t let your ego get in the way.”
    “I won’t, I’m too busy dodging yours. How can I be sure you’ve cut the alarms?”
    “Faith.” At his expression she lifted her chin. “I’ve worked too hard, planned too carefully to make a mistake now. Trust me, or leave me to it.”
    He watched her run the file delicately over the key. “I’m not used to working with a partner.”
    “Neither am