The Art of Deception

certain. As she looked into his eyes, she began to smile. The tension in her shoulders vanished. “You’ve brought it on yourself.”
    “Yeah. I guess I have to live with it.”
    The smile faded as she pressed against him. “Oh, God, Adam, I need you. You’ve no idea how much.”
    He held her just as tightly, just as desperately. “Yes, I do.”

Chapter 9
    T o love and to be loved in return. It was bewildering to Kirby, frightening, exhilarating. She wanted time to experience it, absorb it. Understanding it didn’t matter, not now, in the first rush of emotion. She only knew that although she’d always been happy in her life, she was being offered more. She was being offered laughter at midnight, soft words at dawn, a hand to hold and a life to share. The price would be a portion of her independence and the loyalty that had belonged only to her father.
    To Kirby, love meant sharing, and sharing had no restrictions. Whatever she had, whatever she felt, belonged to Adam as much as to herself. Whatever happened between them now, she’d never be able to change that. No longer able to work, she went down from her studio to find him.
    The house was quiet in the early-evening lull with the staff downstairs making the dinner preparations and gossiping. Kirby had always liked this time of day—after a long, productive session in her studio, before the evening meal. These were the hours to sit in front of a roaring fire, or walk along the cliffs. Now there was someone she needed to share those hours with. Stopping in front of Adam’s door, she raised a hand to knock.
    The murmur of voices stopped her. If Adam had her father in another discussion, he might learn something more about the Rembrandt that would put her mind at ease. While she hesitated, the thumping of the front door knocker vibrated throughout the house. With a shrug, she turned away to answer.
    Inside his room, Adam shifted the transmitter to his other hand. “This is the first chance I’ve had to call in. Besides, there’s nothing new.”
    “You’re supposed to check in every night.” Annoyed, McIntyre barked into the receiver. “Damn it, Adam, I was beginning to think something had happened to you.”
    “If you knew these people, you’d realize how ridiculous that is.”
    “They don’t suspect anything?”
    “No.” Adam swore at the existence of this job.
    “Tell me about Mrs. Merrick and Hiller.”
    “Harriet’s charming and flamboyant.” He wouldn’t say harmless. Though he thought of what he and Kirby had done the night before, he left it alone. Adam had already rationalized the entire business as having nothing to do with his job. Not specifically. That was enough to justify his keeping it from McIntyre. Instead, Adam would tell him what Adam felt applied and nothing more. “Hiller’s very smooth and a complete phony. I walked in on him and Kirby in time to keep him from shoving her around.”

    “What was his reason?”
    “The Rembrandt. He doesn’t believe her father’s keeping her in the dark about it. He’s the kind of man who thinks you can always get what you want by knocking the other person around—if they’re smaller.”
    “Sounds like a gem.” But he’d heard the change in tone. If Adam was getting involved with the Fairchild woman… No. McIntyre let it go. That they didn’t need. “I’ve got a line on Victor Alvarez.”
    “Drop it.” Adam kept his voice casual, knowing full well just how perceptive Mac could be. “It’s a wild-goose chase. I’ve already dug it up and it doesn’t have anything to do with the Rembrandt.”
    “You know best.”
    “Yeah.” McIntyre, he knew, would never understand Fairchild’s hobby. “Since we agree about that, I’ve got a stipulation.”
    “Stipulation?”
    “When I find the Rembrandt, I handle the rest my own way.”
    “What do you mean your own way? Listen, Adam—”
    “My way,” Adam cut him off. “Or you find someone else. I’ll get it back for you, Mac, but after I do, the Fairchilds are kept out of it.”
    “Kept out?” McIntyre exploded so that the receiver crackled with static. “How the hell do you expect me to keep them out?”
    “That’s your problem. Just do it.”
    “The place is full of crazies,” McIntyre muttered. “Must be contagious.”
    “Yeah. I’ll get back to you.” With a grin, Adam switched off the transmitter.
    Downstairs, Kirby opened the door and looked into the myopic, dark-framed eyes of Rick Potts. Knowing his