Page 8 of Five Stolen Rings

My arm falls to my side. “Why am I here? Why areyouhere?”

“I thought you were in California these days,” he says as though I haven’t spoken; he steps backward and casts his gaze over me. It’s not a friendly look. “Doing expensive, exclusive architecture stuff. Why are you slumming it in my stepmother’s house?”

“Your—what?” I say, momentarily stunned. I didn’t know his dad remarried before he died. “Your?—”

“Stepmother,” he says, and something in his eyes hardens. “Yes. I didn’t know the two of you were acquainted.”

I glare at him, swallowing as my cheeks burn.

“Now why are you here?” he goes on.

“I’m—house-sitting,” I say. I’m answering on autopilot, because my brain is still struggling to make sense of what’s happening right now. “Why did you break in through the window?”

“Because the door was locked,” Jack says briskly, his gaze darting over the room like he’s looking for something.

“Yeah, well,” I say. I straighten up. “She’s not here. Maude Ellery. She’s out of town.”

“I know,” he says. “That was sort of the point.” Something seems to occur to him then, because a furrow appears in his brow, and he turns his attention back to me. “What couldpossiblyhave enticed you to house-sit for my stepmother?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re not particularly altruistic, and it’s not like you need the money now.”

“I’m altruistic,” I snap.

He snorts. “If you say so.” He looks over my body again, more slowly this time, and he cocks his head. “Or maybe…” When his gaze finally locks on mine once more, there’s a challenge on his face. “Maybe youdoneed the money, hmm?”

“Of course I don’t,” I say flatly. “Now you should leave. Before I call the police.”

“I’ve got bad news for you, Princess,” Jack says, stepping closer. He points one long finger at me, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. “You still get that little twitch in your jaw when you lie.”

Dangit.

“I’m calling the police,” I say, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and holding it up. “In three…two…”

“Are the police really going to care that I’m in my own stepmother’s house?” Jack says, his eyes flashing with amusement as he straightens.

…No. Probably not.

“Regardless, you need to leave,” I say. “I’m getting paid to watch this place while your stepmom is gone. She said there are cameras in every room. So I can’t?—”

“There aren’t cameras in every room,” Jack cuts me off with a roll of his eyes. He begins pacing around the room, once again like he’s looking for something. “There aren’t any cameras at all.”

I blink. “Are there not?”

“Not inside,” he says. He drifts out of the living room in the direction of the sweeping staircase, and I follow him. “Maude wouldn’t spend money on something she can’t flaunt or show off with. But also”—he glances over his shoulder at me before turning back to the stairs we’re now facing—“I already checked all that out. Cameras outside in the front, but none inside.”

Then, without another word, he starts up the steps, taking them two at a time.

If he already looked into the security measures this place has going on, that means he’s been planning this. Which means…he’s probably doing something he’s not supposed to do.

“Are you trying to rob your stepmother?” I say, following him—and taking one step at a time, because I am not six-foot-million like him.

“Go home,” he calls instead of answering me. The words are curt, short.

I reach the top of the stairs and hurry into the master bedroom after him. “You are trying to rob her,” I say, my eyes widening when I see him rummaging through one of the many trinket boxes on the vanity. “You can’t!”

“I think you’ll find that I can,” he says without even looking at me. “Especially since—” But he breaks off when I begin tugging on his arm, trying to drag him out of the room.

Because guess who absolutely will not pay me if I let her house get robbed on my watch? Maude Ellery.

“Get off,” Jack mutters, jerking his elbow out of my grasp.

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