It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to poke through the pile, pulling out and examining each exquisite piece. She’d always had a passion for jewelry—it tended to go along with the profession—and this was like being a kid loose in a candy store.
No time.
Right. She needed to get moving. Forcing herself back to the task at hand, she unzipped the fanny pack and pulled out the necklace, its facets seeming to catch even the tiny bit of light that had filtered into the dim room.
No doubt about it—the necklace was exquisite. She’d seen some amazing pieces of jewelry during her career, but this necklace was truly the pièce de résistance. Warm and inviting, the necklace seemed to call to her, begging for her touch. Just one simple little caress. Just one moment of playing the princess.
No. Absolutely not. Very bad idea.
The necklace sparkled in the streams of moonlight, twinkling out Morse code. Dot, dot,doit. Dash, dash,tryit.
No, no,no.
Before she could change her mind, she pulled the jewelry box from her back pocket, placed the necklace inside and snapped the lid shut. Then she shoved the box into the safe, slammed the door, and spun the dial.
Done.
Thank goodness.
For just a moment, she stared at the closed safe, her latex-covered fingertip tracing the line of her neck. She stifled a sigh, already regretting not trying on the necklace. After all, how many more times would she have such an opportunity?
Never, right? Because she was out of the business. This was it. Her one final chance to feel fire and ice kiss the curve of her neck.
She licked her lips. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to—
Click!The sound echoed through the room.
Mel stiffened, heart racing, as she tried to locate the cause. Silence. Maybe just house noises? Echoes from the party two stories below?
Maybe you should put that mirror back and get the hell out of here.
Right-o. She hefted the mirror, managing with surprisingly little effort to hang it back in place. Sheadjusted it, then backed up, trying to see if she’d managed to hang it straight.
And that’s when she stepped on it. Hard, yet malleable, like a lump of leather.
She crunched her heel down and felt whatever it was give just a little. How odd. It felt almost like—
“Would you please get off my foot?”
A shoe.
