A Burning Obsession Page 13

  Her eyes lit up and her features animated. He enjoyed seeing the sparkle in her eyes, the way she was putting everything she had into this opportunity. He admired people who knew what they wanted and didn’t let fear stop them from pursuing their dreams.

  “And what happens if you succeed? If you make the movie? Then what?”

  She glanced at him sideways. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

  “You achieve your goal then what?”

  “Well, that depends on what the movie grosses. If it’s a box-office success, I’ll have my pick of projects.”

  “And if it fails?”

  She shrugged again. “I won’t be any worse off than I am now.” From the tray, she plucked a handful of grapes and helped herself to a slice of cheese. “My work probably seems tame to you. Not like climbing into five-story windows or racing over rooftops to escape.”

  He fired up his computer and typed quickly. “Actually, you may be doing some of that kind of work yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After I read your script, I took the liberty of ordering the museum’s plans.”

  She peered over his shoulder at the diagram on the screen. “You ordered the plans? How? I was told the security system was classified.”

  “Who did you ask?”

  “The Welsh Historical Society.”

  He grinned. “I ordered these from a source over the Internet. Kincaid didn’t even flinch when I told him the cost—he just said to buy whatever I needed.”

  “How much did these plans for the new wing cost?”

  “A hundred grand.”

  “What?” She choked on the grape in midswallow.

  Concerned he patted her back. Her eyes teared and then cleared. “A hundred thousand dollars?”

  “I’m sure the man had to bribe several contractors or building officials. And then there’s always the chance we could get caught and try to turn him in to reduce our sentence.”

  “But we aren’t going to do anything illegal.”

  “Just having these plans is probably illegal enough to get us arrested.”

  “But—”

  “You want to argue or figure out how to pull off the job?”

  She pulled over a chair and studied the blueprints. “Do you have the second and third stories?”

  “Of course.”

  He didn’t say a word, just watched her study the screen. Her expressive eyes narrowed on the page that showed the security systems—computer monitors at every intersection. Guards at each entrance and exit. A gated drive with a fenced perimeter. In addition there were heat sensors, infrared beams and dogs.

  “It’s not the Louvre.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He tested her determination. “Are you afraid of heights or small spaces?”

  “Look, this changes my script. I could do a rewrite but I’d rather try and fake my way in as someone legitimate than climb in through the chimney or through an air duct.”

  Clearly, she could read a blueprint and analyze the security system better than the average citizen. However, that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t panic in a tight spot.

  “Exactly how much training did your parents give you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you going to freeze on me if things go wrong?”

  “This is just a practice mission. We aren’t going to actually take anything. So there’s no reason to worry.”

  “What about the love scene inside the museum that Quinn penciled in?”

  She winked at him. “I figured we’d play that by ear.”

  At the fire in her eyes, Jason just barely refrained from rubbing his hands together in anticipation. The profits might not be monetary, but he hadn’t looked forward to a caper this much in years.

  “DO NOT REFER to the Welsh as English,” Kimberly read to Jason from her guidebook as they sat side by side on the train heading through the Welsh countryside. Although her intentions had been good, she still hadn’t figured out what kind of innovative love scene could be enacted inside a museum. And this morning she’d still been thinking about it while they’d packed. The tour group had left Ireland before dawn, taking a ferry across the Irish Sea back to Holyhead, Wales.

  During their train ride, Liam entertained the group with a constant stream of stories. “England solidified its hold over Wales with the murder of Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffydd in 1282. Until late in the nineteenth century, children were not allowed to speak Welsh in the classroom. If they did so, they had to wear a ‘Welsh Knot’ around their necks, which was passed from child to child—whoever committed an error. The child wearing the knot at the end of the day was punished.”

  Across the table from Jason and Kimberly and riding the train backwards sat Professor Jamison and Trixie, his wife, who appeared much more interested in a game of solitaire than in Liam’s story. Kimberly listened and looked out the window, enjoying the sight of miles of sandy beaches, grassy cliffs and dramatic mountains with footpaths winding upward toward clear mountain lakes.

  The professor peered at one of the many crumbling castles they’d passed. “King Edward I designed a ring of spectacular fortresses to keep the rebels in the mountains—”

  “I want to see the Gypsy Rose Vase, dear,” Trixie interrupted. “Can you imagine how romantic it must have been for the lady and her Gypsy lover?”

  The professor took off his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief. “Nothing but lust. She cheated on her husband.”

  “Is there any truth to the old legend, Professor?” Kimberly asked. She’d been fascinated with her research into the romantic story that surrounded the rose glass vase. Supposedly, when the nobleman caught his wife with her Gypsy lover he’d tried to kill them, but a fairy had wrapped them in a protective spell, whisking them away to another land. All that was left behind was the Gypsy Rose Vase which he’d tried to smash. Legend said that the vase’s strength was a symbol of their love and could never be broken.

  “A couple with the Gypsy’s last name settled in Virginia in the early 1600s.”

  Caroline looked up from her astrology book. “Star-crossed lovers can’t find happiness unless they dance under the full moon.”

  Alex snorted, but his arm went around Caroline’s shoulders. Kimberly nudged Jason to look at the couple and whispered, “When did that happen?”

  “What?”

  “Our surfer dude has hooked up with Caroline the moon goddess.”

  “It must have been written in the stars,” Jason joked, then glanced at his watch. “We should have time for a meal before setting out for the museum.”

  Kimberly barely held back a yawn. “We could go tomorrow.”

  “Food will revive you.”

  Kimberly did feel better after eating a tasty omelette. The group had split up, with the Barrs going to Snowdonia to visit the national park, Alex and Caroline hitting the beaches, while the professor and his wife were heading to the museum. No one mentioned touring together, so Kimberly and Jason made their way to the bus station alone, and it was the first time that day they’d had a chance to talk without fear of being overheard by others.

  “Have you figured a way to avoid tripping the alarms?” Kimberly asked.

  “Yes, but you aren’t going to like it.”

  “Why?”

  “We have to sneak in this afternoon and find a place to hide out.”

  “We do?”

  “My computer needs time to break their encryption. And to avoid detection, it has to hook into their system from the inside.”

  Kimberly frowned at him. “And while the computer is decoding, what will we be doing?”

  “Making love.”

  If she’d been eating anything, she might have choked again. Instead she tripped and almost fell face first in the bus’s aisle. But Jason’s steady hand on her elbow helped her into her seat.

  “In public?” The thought of making love with Jason so soon had her pulse rate knocking and
kicking.

  Jason grinned. “Quinn’s notes didn’t specify the exact location. I’m sure we can find someplace semiprivate.”

  “Semiprivate isn’t good enough. Suppose we get caught?” Despite her questions, the idea of making love to Jason had her anticipating an afternoon of pleasure, except she couldn’t seem to prevent her thoughts from coming up with logical protests.

  Jason placed an arm over her shoulder as they strolled down a sidewalk. “Making love is part of our cover.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If we get caught, who are the police more likely to release? Tourists who can’t explain the reason for their presence after closing hours. Or lovers who got carried away?”

  “You have a point.” As she thought through his idea, she considered ways to write the scene. “But aren’t we twice as likely to be spotted if we’re…”

  “You can’t even say it.”

  “I can, too.” But she didn’t. Her thoughts kept jumping around, trying to get past her astonishment at the fact that without his touching her or kissing her or even shooting a sexy glance her way, she was already turned on by the idea.

  What had happened to practical, always in control, goal-setting Kimberly, who always knew what she wanted and played it safe? Even after Quinn had suggested she add a love scene in the museum, she couldn’t really imagine it and that had made the writing impossible. But now, she was considering doing it. The idea shocked but tempted her.

  The danger of getting caught combined with the thrill of doing something forbidden had her stomach knotting in anticipation. And she could no longer deny that part of the thrill was the risk of making love—with Jason, a man who could push her out of her comfort zone with a hot look, a challenging glance or an outrageous dare.

  A part of her wanted to kick up her heels and keep up with him. A part of her wanted to stay rooted to the ground and refuse to take a step off the bus.

  However, his I-dare-you glance had her stepping off the bus and almost colliding with Alex and Caroline. Kimberly stepped back just in time to avoid an accident. “Hey, I thought you two were going to the beach?”

  Alex shrugged his shoulders with a sheepish grin. “Caroline wanted to see that Gypsy vase.”

  Kimberly and Jason lost sight of the other couple amid the booths hawking cold drinks and souvenirs on the way to buy entry tickets. The museum was in an old castle; the courtyard the main entrance and the new wing had been added with such care that it appeared part of the original building. The tourist attraction was more crowded than she’d expected, with visitors speaking a half dozen languages.

  As the afternoon sun dipped behind the huge wall and left them in shadows, the temperature dropped. Kimberly shivered, cold on the outside yet warm on the inside at the thought of what they were about to do.

  She had no idea where she and Jason would end up making love. He’d seemed pleased with his research, eager to go inside. But as they crossed the moat and ambled past the thick wooden gates that guarded the castle, she realized that the stone walls had been built as much to keep people in as invaders out.

  If they stayed past closing time, leaving again might be not just difficult, but impossible. And yet, all she kept thinking about was Jason. Where would they make love? A closet? A basement? A rooftop?

  10

  “WHERE DO you want to go first?” Kimberly asked Jason.

  “I don’t supposed you’re interested in checking out the jewels?” he teased. “I believe they have an extraordinary amber necklace stolen from a Viking ship, and the Star of the North, a diamond brought back from South Africa meant as a gift for a king—but war broke out and—”

  “We aren’t here to see gemstones.” She tugged his arm, leading him down the main hallway, sorry she’d asked his opinion. “Let’s go see the Gypsy Rose Vase and then if we have time, maybe we can look at your rocks.”

  “There’s no need to be insulting.” His mild reply told her he wasn’t the least insulted.

  As they walked past exhibits of armor, weaponry and instruments of torture toward the glass exhibitions, the value of the items increased, as did the frequency of museum guards. She noted one uniformed guard at every intersection and casual glances revealed security cameras watching practically every angle. When she thought of the heat and infrared alarms, she wondered if they should stop before they’d even begun. Although Jason had reassured her that his computer could override the system, she didn’t feel as comfortable as she had when she’d researched the Book of Celts in the Cornwall library.

  Jason spied a room marked by a sign Authorized Personnel Only. He tried the knob but it didn’t open. In less than ten seconds he’d picked the lock and pulled her into a dark room that reeked of cleaning chemicals.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  Jason flicked on a penlight that he carried in his pocket. “Janitor’s closet. This will work.”

  “Huh?” Surely he didn’t think she was going to get romantic in this smelly closet.

  “Help me with my pack, will you?”

  “Sure.” As she pulled the pack from his back in the tight space, she tried to take shallow breaths through her mouth. “I sure hope you aren’t thinking about making love in here because the smell—”

  “I just want to hook into the electrical system.” He bent, took out a screwdriver from his backpack and removed a coverplate. “Now hand me my laptop.”

  “How can you hook it in here? Don’t you need a computer line?”

  “That’s the beauty of my system. The virus is carried through electricity. I’ve found a secret back door into any system that doesn’t have electromagnetic shielding.”

  She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but he sounded as if he knew his stuff. “If you say so.”

  “It’s slow, but the virus will gently invade the museum’s security and infiltrate the operating system. Infrared monitors and heat seekers will appear normal to the guards no matter what we do.”

  “You’re saying if we touch the vase, they won’t know?”

  “Exactly. Their alarms won’t go off.”

  “What about their video monitors?”

  “The program creates a feedback loop of the vase and will keep sending that picture long after the vase is gone.”

  “What about your laptop?”

  “We leave it. It’s the cost of doing business.”

  “Can the computer lead back to you?”

  “All serial numbers and fingerprints have been erased. I have an electronic trigger in my pocket to instruct the hard drive to crash once we’re safe.”

  He seemed to have covered all the technical angles, but she still worried. “What about the real guards?”

  “Once the museum closes, most of them will go home. We just need to evade the occasional guard making his rounds.”

  She frowned at the black laptop. “Where did you get that computer program?”

  “I wrote it.”

  She made an effort to keep her voice steady. “Has it ever been tested?”

  “Numerous times.”

  “Has it ever failed?”

  “Once or twice, but I’ve worked out all the bugs.” He stripped a wire and twisted it to another one coming out of his computer then wrapped black electrical tape around them both. “Okay. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  He flipped open the screen and typed, his fingers dancing over the keys. Outside the door, tourists spoke softly as they explored the museum.

  “Look here.” Jason pointed to a diagram of the building’s wiring. “This is our signal.” He used the tip of his pen to follow a red line that kept going around corners and advancing ever closer to the security room at the museum’s core. “Once my signal reaches the central room, it will insert and begin to alter the operating system.”

  “Will it damage—”

  “Not at all. Once we leave, the museum’s system will be exactly as it was.”

  She told herself they would do no harm—not to the
museum, the computer and security system or the vase. In her script, her characters wanted to prove they were the greatest thieves of all time and they returned every stolen item after their heists. She didn’t plan to actually steal anything, but if they were caught, would the authorities believe her?

  “And how long until it’s finished?”

  “About an hour.” Jason snapped the screen shut and placed the computer behind a box of trash-can liners. “We’re done here.”

  He flicked off the light, took her hand and opened the door. He exited first and after she followed, she realized why he’d stopped so suddenly that she’d bumped into his back.

  A guard stood on the other side of the door in the museum’s hallway, frowning at them. “What were you two doing in there?”

  Uh-oh.

  She thought fast. “I was looking for the restroom.” At the blank look in the guard’s eyes she used the English word. “The toilet.”

  He pointed to the authorized personnel sign on the door. “You are not allowed—”

  “Sorry, we were just leaving.” Jason placed his hand on her waist and urged her down the hall.

  “He didn’t believe me,” she whispered.

  “Of course not. He thought we were making out in the closet.”

  “Oh.” Her pulse rate was skipping frantically, but Jason appeared as cool as James Bond.

  “Jason?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  He steered her into a room displaying gold crowns, silver tiaras, sparkling scepters and a sword with a diamond-studded handle. “You don’t have to make up your mind for another hour.”

  At the glitter and gleam of the gemstones, her eyes widened. “What are we doing here?”

  “Shh. We don’t want to make a beeline for the vase.”

  “Why not? Won’t we look like almost every other tourist? The vase is famous.”

  “That guard is following us. Look at the jewelry. Or at me—as if I’m irresistible.”

  “Sounds to me that no matter what I choose to look at you’ve just set up a win-win situation.”