Sweet Revenge

pocket.
    The bastard. The low, slimy bastard. He’d stolen from her. He’d lifted the necklace right off her throat without herfeeling a thing but the pumping of her pulse. Then he’d taunted her. He’d looked right at her and grinned.
    He was going to pay for it, Adrianne thought as she tossed her gloves into her shoulder bag. And he was going to pay for it tonight.
    She knew it was reckless. There hadn’t been time to work out a plan coolheadedly. All she knew was that he’d taken from her, laughed at her, challenged her. Celeste, innocently enough, had passed on the information that Philip was staying at the Carlyle. That was all Adrianne needed.
    She’d had an hour to change out of her gown and into her working clothes. She’d rejected the notion of bribing the night clerk. The staff at the Carlyle was well known for their honesty. She’d simply break into his room.
    Adrianne walked into the lobby. There was only one clerk at the desk, male and young. Blessing her luck, Adrianne staggered over.
    “Please,” she began, choosing a shaky French accent. “Two men, outside. They tried to …” With a hand to her head she shuddered and swayed. “I must call a cab, so foolish to think I could walk. Water,
s’il vous plaît.
May I have some water?”
    He was already rounding the desk to lead her to a chair. “Were you hurt?”
    She turned her face up to his, making certain her eyes were liquid and helpless. “No, just frightened. They tried to get me into a car, and there was no one, no one to …”
    “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”
    He was so young, Adrianne thought as she leaned against him. And playing on his sympathy was too easy. “Thank you. You’re so kind, so good. If you would please call me a cab. But first the water, or perhaps some brandy.”
    “Of course. Just try to relax. I’ll be only a minute.”
    And a minute was all she needed. As soon as he was out of sight, she leapt up, vaulted the counter, and hit the computer. He was on the twentieth floor, she saw with a grim smile. Smugly asleep, she was sure, and waiting for her next move. She doubted he expected one so quickly.
    When the clerk returned with a snifter of brandy, she was sprawled in the chair, her eyes closed and a hand to her heart.
    “So kind of you.” She made sure her hand shook ever so slightly as she drank. “I must get home.” She brushed a tear from her lashes. “I’ll feel so much better behind my own doors.”
    “Should I call the police?”
    “No,” she said with a brave smile. “I didn’t see them. It was dark. Thank God I was able to get away and run in here.” After handing the snifter back to him, she managed to stand, “I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been.”
    “It was nothing.” Pleased, he puffed out with masculine pride.
    “It was everything to me.” Adrianne leaned against him as they walked outside. The cab she’d already paid to be waiting a half a block away glided to the curb.
“Merci bien”
Adrianne kissed him on the cheek before she slid inside. The moment they were out of sight, she straightened in her seat. “Let me off around the corner.”
    “Want me to wait again?”
    “No.” She handed him a twenty. “Thanks.”
    “Anytime, lady.”
    Fifteen minutes later Adrianne was standing outside Philip’s door. The entry through the service entrance and elevator had been routine. Now it was just a matter of getting through the lock and security chain. She blamed her own impatience and temper for the amount of time it took her.
    Inside, the suite was silent. Because he hadn’t drawn the drapes in the sitting room, there was enough light to guide her. It took her less than five minutes to determine that he’d left nothing of value in there.
    The bedroom was dark. She opted for her penlight and kept the beam away from the bed, though she would have enjoyed shining it in his face and scaring the life out of him. There would be satisfaction enough in retrieving her necklace, and the diamond cuff links he’d worn that evening.
    Adrianne began a silent and thorough search of the room. It would be a damn shame if he’d put everything in the hotel safe. Somehow she didn’t think he had. It would have been late, nearly three, by the time he’d gotten in. Odds were that he’d been suffering from jet lag. As Adrianne saw it, he’d probably come in, dumped everything in a drawer, then crawled into bed.
    Underneath his neatly folded shirts from Turnbull, she