Rexanne Becnel - Scandalous Weddings

Her gaze swung around the room wildly and settled upon a blue and white vase filled with flowers. She grabbed it, running after the two men. And as she hefted it, Pierce turned. His eyes widened with surprise and comprehension. "No!"

But it was too late. Annabel crashed it down upon the unsuspecting Louie's head.

They both watched Louie sink to the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Annabel grimaced, hoping she had not hurt him, and when she looked up, she saw Pierce staring at her. "I want to help," she said.

"Good God," he returned. Then, ruefully, he half smiled. "Very well. But only this once."

Annabel could not believe her ears. She felt herself smiling.

And for one moment he stared at her. Then, "Turn around." His tone was brisk. "It is late and we are behind schedule."

Annabel turned. He quickly buttoned up her dress and she stepped into her shoes. Then they slipped soundlessly from the room. Annabel had a hundred questions to ask, especially once she realized they were going downstairs and not up to the floor where the countess's suite was, but she did not dare. She knew Pierce would strangle her if she made a sound. She was determined to be an extraordinary accomplice.

A few small lights flickered in the lobby as they hurriedly approached. Annabel's heart lurched when she realized a clerk remained behind the front desk, and even though he was sleeping, his head upon his folded arms, she gripped Pierce's arm from behind with alarm. Pierce looked at her, one finger to his mouth, having lost none of his composure. Annabel nodded, aware of perspiring. Perhaps, she thought, the clerk would be the one to discover them in the midst of this criminal act. Her pulse was racing with both fear and excitement.

They left the stairs and started through the lobby. It had never seemed larger to Annabel and traversing it seemed to take an eternity. They were halfway across the room when the clerk suddenly stirred, making a sound.

Annabel froze. The clerk mumbled to himself. Pierce grabbed her and they ran the rest of the way, when Annabel would have turned and fled back to the stairs. She flung a glance over her shoulder. The clerk, Annabel saw, continued to doze.

They paused just around the corner, outside the manager's office. Annabel trembled, her fear warring with relief. She could hardly believe they had not been caught, could hardly believe Pierce was so bold. Then she saw Pierce extracting a bit and brace from the satchel. He did not look at her, but Annabel was in shock. They were breaking into the manager's office, just steps away from the front desk and the sleeping clerk? Was he mad?

Very quickly, Pierce drilled the bit into the wood around the lock. Annabel's heart continued to thunder and her mouth was painfully dry. He finally looked at her with a smile, standing and jimmying the doorknob off the door. He pressed it open and bowed as if they were at a ball. Annabel shook her head-now was not the time to clown-and together they went inside. Pierce closed the door carefully behind them.

"Yale locks," he whispered. "Impossible to pick." He winked.

Annabel was sweating; he was enjoying himself. And she felt like breaking into hysterical laughter. Instead, she pointed at the door and at herself.

"Good girl," he mouthed, patting her back. He handed her the knob and walked behind the desk. Annabel realized his goal was the huge cast-iron safe set in the wall. She watched him extract some kind of small brass horn from the satchel. As he placed it against the safe, the other end to his ear, he began to twirl the large black dial.

Annabel realized she was so fascinated with what he was doing that she was not keeping guard as she was supposed to do. She turned and cracked the door slightly and peered out of it. The lobby was empty.

Her pulse continued to race. She heard a click from behind. It seemed ominously loud in the silence of the night. Pierce had opened the safe. The horn had disappeared back into the satchel. He was groping through the vault's dark interior.

Annabel heard a footstep. She whirled, but saw no one, and only silence greeted her now. And then there was a tap on her shoulder from behind.

Annabel almost jumped out of her skin, but she faced only Pierce. He was smiling at her, holding out the largest ruby she had ever seen. It dangled from a strand of glistening, perfect pearls.

"Oh, my God," she heard herself whisper. And then she heard the footfalls outside in the lobby again.

Pierce heard them, too, because the necklace disappeared. A small pistol had appeared in his hand in its stead. He shoved Annabel behind him.

The door began to open.

Annabel was so tense she thought her body would snap. Sweat poured down her face and limbs in streams.

A slender man stepped into the room.

As he did so, Pierce grabbed him, clapping a hand over his mouth and pressing the muzzle of the gun to his head. "Louie." He released him.

Louie glared at Pierce, and then at Annabel. If looks could kill, Annabel would be dead.

Annabel wanted to tell him how sorry she was, but on the other hand, she wanted to throttle him for scaring her to death. But she could do neither. Pierce was signaling to them and his meaning was clear-it was time to go. He shoved first Louie and then Annabel from the room. They melted against the wall, waiting to hear any sounds from the front desk. The clerk was now snoring.

Annabel could not believe that their good fortune continued unabated. Her eyes met Pierce's.

He smiled at her and waved them forward. And as one, the trio raced across the lobby and upstairs to the safety of his room.,.

The clock in Pierce's room read three fifty-five. Pierce was grinning and holding up a bottle of champagne. As he popped the cork, he said, "I seem to recall that you are fond of champagne, Annabel."

They had done it. They had burglarized the countess, and escaped without mishap. She laughed in delight. "I am..

He handed her the bottle, sliding his arm around her. His tone low, he said, still smiling, "Even if it is warm?"

"Even if it is warm," she said, her smile fading.

His also dimmed. Annabel forgot to think. He bent and kissed her, long and slow, tongue to tongue.

"Now hold on," Louie cried, arms folded across his chest. "She's got some explaining to do."

Pierce released her. Annabel felt drugged from the kiss and what they had just done. It was hard to think, for all she wanted to do was to jump back into bed with Pierce and touch him everywhere, allowing him the very same liberties. &.

"Here," he said softly. "Ladies first."

Annabel accepted the bottle and took a long swig of champagne. How delicious it was, even at room temperature. And then she thought again of what they had done, and her part in it, and she grinned. Living dangerously was definitely in her nature.

"You seem very pleased, Annabel," Pierce said softly.

She met his blue gaze. "I am."

His gaze was probing!

"An' I got a headache you couldn't believe." Louie scowled at Annabel.

"Louie, I do believe the lady meant no harm," Pierce said, handing him the bottle.

"I'm sorry," Annabel said, meaning it. "But I was so afraid for the two of you and I wanted to help." Suddenly her elation died. They had done it, pulling off the burglary with ease and even aplomb, but what would happen now? Her heart lurched with sickening intensity. She turned to Pierce, only to find him watching her extremely closely, and he was no longer smiling, either- as if he could read her thoughts.

"Now what?" she asked with real trepidation.

"In a day or so we will check out," Pierce said easily. "After the ruby is discovered missing, after the police come, question everyone, and fail to find either the thief or the jewel."

"You will stay here?" Annabel was aghast.

"Yes. If I leave now, in the thick of the night, I will be the obvious culprit. You are the only one who knows who I am, Annabel." He was smiling.

Annabel was ill. So much so that for a moment, all words failed her. She sat down hard on his bed. Where, so recently, they had been passionately entwined. She looked at the mussed covers, recalling the intimacy they had shared.

"What is it?" His tone was sharp.

"Oh, God. I should have told you this before." She looked up. "Adam and Lizzie know who you are, Pierce. Adam recognized you and told my sister."

Pierce stared.

Annabel rubbed her temple. "She agreed not to say anything, but I do not think she can keep her silence once this theft is discovered. And Adam, why, I am certain he will come forward." Pierce cursed.

Annabel had never heard him use an epithet before, and oddly, it seemed incredibly out of character. "We are blown," he said grimly to Louie. "And we must leave right now."

Annabel started.

"An' how are we going to do that?" Louie said. "The staff’ll be up in another two hours, we won't even be out of town by then."

Pierce was grim. His gaze found Annabel.

And ridiculously, she felt as if this were her own fault. "You knew the risks," she said defensively.

"I knew the risks," he agreed.

"There wasn't time to tell you sooner," she said. Thinking about why there hadn't been time-because they had been in bed together.

"They're going to catch us," Louie said, pacing. "Even if we make the next train out, when they finger us, they'll be stoppin' the train to arrest us."

"Actually, I am in agreement with you, Louie."

The situation was horrid, and getting worse with every moment. "I will beg them not to say a word," Annabel cried.

"Adam Tarrington has too much integrity. He will point his finger at me the moment Guilia cries theft."