Pros and Cons of Desire

Two jobs down, three to go, and job #3 is mine. My name is Ridge Pfeiffer, I’m a dirt poor jewel thief from the wrong side of the tracks, and I don’t play well with others.

Theoretically, the deal works like this. I do the job Charlie planned for me and Miranda erases my past, makes my biggest problems go away. Too bad my biggest problem is the one thing I don’t want to go away: Diplomatic Security Agent Davis Ethan.

When Davis caught me breaking into a safe during job #2, I should have ended up in jail. instead, I ended up in his bed. Rich, gorgeous, and privileged, the only thing we have in common is a love of beautiful lingerie and beautiful men. He’s everything I hate, everything I want, and he could destroy me with a word.

There are a hundred red flags surrounding this job, I should walk away and take my chances, but I’m going to do it anyway. Anything to buy me one more night with Davis.

One more job, one more night, and then I’ll leave for good.

As I surveyed my surroundings, I realized Leo had been right. I had needed to get out of the house. Just being out here was relaxing. Everything was perfect. A moonless night, a shitty security system, a house that backed onto heavily-treed open space, and a balcony with sliding glass doors. What more could a red-blooded American thief ask for?

My grappling hook slipped through the bars of the second story balcony of the West Palm Beach home of Doctor and Mrs. Bradley Ashford like it was laser guided. It was so thoughtful of them to have installed a balcony right outside their glass bedroom doors. Even more convenient was the fact that their entire sub-standard security system was all on the same easily-cut circuit.

A lone video camera pointed at the balcony. On the off-chance that it was actually being monitored, I took it out with a well-placed egg toss. Thank goodness I’d had all that practice in my youth.

With a flick of the switch, the prongs of the hook expanded and I tugged hard. Perfect. If only my gym teacher could see me now, I thought as I climbed hand over hand up the knotted rope. I could have gone faster, but I’d gone to the indoor rock wall yesterday and climbed for hours. My shoulders and calves were still burning. Also, movement was the enemy of stealth, so I took my time. 

“Not even a security bar on the door,” I told the bat that swooped passed me. “Idiots.” It was like they were begging to be robbed. Well, who was I to deny them a good story to tell at their next dinner party?

A quick slip of the knife into the frame to pop the lock and I was inside sliding the door shut behind me. Total time: one minute, four seconds.

Emily Ashford was the proud owner of several lovely and very expensive matched sets of jewelry. I knew she was because she loved being photographed in them for the society pages and I loved looking at those photographs. They were like catalogues for thieves.