“Yes. For just a second. It was—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hale moved toward her, and she was glad for the dark.
“Everything was happening so fast and…it was just for a second!”
There was an anger in Hale’s eyes, but something more than that. A hurt that went deeper than Kat had ever seen. “You should have told me.”
Nick laughed. “I don’t think she reports to you.”
“You really don’t get it, new guy.” Hale shook his head and stepped away. “She doesn’t report to anyone.”
When Hale turned and started for the opposite side of the deck, Kat was the only one who followed.
“I kissed you!”
Kat hadn’t meant to yell it, but she wasn’t exactly sorry she did. The words had been there, throbbing like a pulse for weeks. She felt lighter without them—one more thing she didn’t have to carry.
“In New York—in the limo—I kissed you.”
Hale stopped. “I remember.”
“I kissed you, and you left. So either I am not someone you want to be kissing…”
“No.” He shook his head slowly. “That’s not it.”
“Or I am a really bad kisser.” Kat couldn’t stop herself from going through the reasons—through the options—like it was just another con and she could master it if only her mind would stop spinning.
“Kat—” He reached for her, but her reflexes were too strong.
She pulled away and looked at him. “I kissed you and you left.”
When Kat heard the pounding, she thought it was the beating of her heart. It was too loud, she thought. Hale was going to hear it; he was going to see it; and he was going to know how much power he had to hurt her.
“Hale,” she started, but the noise was louder then, echoing from inside. “Hale, I—”
“They’re coming.” Simon held to the door frame and virtually swung himself out onto the deck. “Kelly!” His breath came in short ragged spurts. “I was listening to LaFont’s calls tonight. He talked to New York—to Kelly.” He took a deep breath. “And now the Cleopatra…it’s coming to the ball!”
CHAPTER 33
There are many things a halfway decent thief must be able to do. The picking of locks is essential. The ability to stay cool in any situation is a must. But sometimes, the most important thing a thief can do…is watch. And wait.
Kat stood by Hale’s side, staring down at the two-lane highway that curved like a snake, winding through the cliffs and tunnels into the heart of the city with its ancient buildings and flashy cars. Boutiques, hotels, and of course, a casino.
And more security than even Katarina Bishop had ever seen.
“So the Cleopatra is really coming,” she said.
“The Cleopatra is really coming,” he agreed.
That the real Cleopatra was already there, locked safely away in a vault beneath the most secure bank on the Riviera was a detail that none of them had to mention.
All that really mattered was that Marc Antony was dead and Cleopatra was gone, and the world’s elite were on their way to Monaco to spend one night dancing and drinking in the presence of the stones that, if the legends were to be believed, had doomed them both.
In an unprecedented move, the Casino de Monte-Carlo was closed to the public on that day. Kat watched it all through her favorite binoculars as she stood at the top of the ridge. The florists arrived with their flowers. The deliveries of fruit and pastries and meat began promptly at ten. The harbor, always busy in winter, was at full capacity—white dots bobbing on the waves, stretching far out into the deep blue sea. The world’s eyes, it seemed, were turned to Monte Carlo. Kat’s gaze, however, stayed locked on the casino’s doors.
“What changes do they have in store, Simon?”
Marcus had spread a blanket on the grass beneath a tree and served a cold lunch of bread and cheese.