Doug drew her to her feet. “Let’s go get it, sugar.”
It took him a little under two minutes to trip the lock. With the door open only a crack, he peered out to check for guards in the hall.
“Okay, now we move fast and quiet.”
Whitney slipped her hand in his and stepped into the hall.
The house was silent. Apparently when Dimitri retired, everyone retired. In darkness, they moved down the staircase to the first floor. The funeral-parlor smell, flowers and polish, hung thick. Whitney used a gesture of the hand to show Doug which way. Keeping close to the wall, they made their way slowly toward the library.
Dimitri hadn’t bothered to lock the door. Doug was a little disappointed, and a little wary that it was so easy. They slipped inside. Rain began to patter against the windows. Whitney went directly to the shelves on the east wall and drew back the section of books.
“It’s in here,” she whispered. “The combination’s fifty-two right, thirty-six left—”
“How do you know the combination?”
“I saw him open it.”
Uneasy, Doug reached for the knob. “Why the hell isn’t he covering his tracks?” he muttered as he began to turn. “Okay, what’s next?”
“Another five to the left, then twelve right.” She held her breath as Doug drew down the handle. The door of the safe opened without a sound.
“Come to Papa,” Doug murmured as he drew out the box. He checked its weight before he grinned at Whitney. He wanted to open it, to take just one more look. To gloat. There’d be other times. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Sounds like an excellent idea.” Tucking a hand through his arm she started toward the terrace doors. “Shall we use these so we don’t disturb our host?”
“It seems like the considerate thing to do.” As he reached for the knob, the doors swung open. Facing them were three men, guns glittering wet in the rain. In the center, Remo grinned. “Mr. Dimitri doesn’t want you to leave until he buys you a drink.”
“Yes, indeed.” The library doors opened. Still in his white dinner jacket, Dimitri strolled through. “I can’t have my guests going out in the rain. Do come back and sit down.” The amiable host, he went to the bar and poured brandy. “My dear, that color’s superb on you.”
Doug felt the barrel of Remo’s gun at the base of his spine. “I don’t like to impose.”
“Nonsense, nonsense.” He swirled the brandy as he turned. At his touch, the room flooded with light. Whitney would have sworn at that moment his eyes had no color at all. “Sit down.” The quiet order had all the charm of the hiss of a snake.
Pressed by the barrel of the gun, Doug came forward, the chest in one hand and Whitney’s palm in the other. “Nothing like a brandy on a rainy night.”
“Precisely.” Graciously, he passed two snifters to them. “Whitney…” Her name came out on a sigh as he gestured toward a chair. “You disappoint me.”
“I didn’t give her much choice.” Doug threw Dimitri an arrogant look. “A woman like her worries about her skin.”
“I admire chivalry, especially from so unlikely a source.” He tipped his glass at Doug before he drank. “I’m afraid I was aware of Whitney’s unfortunate attachment to you all along. My dear, did you really think I believed you’d shot our Mr. Lord?”
She shrugged, and though her hands were damp on the snifter, drank. “I suppose I have to work on my skill as a liar.”
“Indeed, you have very expressive eyes. ‘Even in the glasses of thine eyes I see thy grieved heart,’” he quoted from Richard II in his smooth, poet’s voice. “However, I did enjoy our evening together.”
Whitney brushed a hand over the short skirt of her robe. “I’m afraid I was a bit bored.”
His lips curled back. Everyone in the room knew it would take only a word from him, only a word, and she’d be dead. Instead, he chose to chuckle. “Women are such unstable creatures, would you agree, Mr. Lord?”
“Some show particularly good taste.”
“It amazes me that someone with Miss MacAllister’s inherent style would have an affection for someone of your class. But,” he moved his shoulders, “romance has always been a mystery to me. Remo, relieve Mr. Lord of the box, if you please. And his weapons. Just set them on the table for now.” While his orders were carried out, Dimitri sipped his brandy and seemed to ponder great thoughts. “I took the risk that you would want to retrieve both Miss MacAllister and the treasure. After all this time, after this very intriguing chess game we’ve been playing, I must say I’m disappointed to have you checkmated with such ease. I’d hoped for a little more flare at the end.”