through the folders, then pulled out a small velvet bag. He loosened the drawstring and dumped the contents into his palm. A large gold ring gleamed against his black leather glove.
Her jaw dropped. So he really had come here in search of jewels. But why? He’d quit his family’s business years ago.
Still holding the ring, he rose, slipped it back into the velvet bag, then stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans.
She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not really going to take that.”
“Damn straight I am.”
“But … you can’t. I’ll get blamed.” Too much evidence placed her in the room. And stealing the flash drive was one thing. She needed that to bring down a murderous traitor, an end she could justify. But a ring … “You have to put it back.”
“Forget it.” He turned toward the long, velvet drapes.
Panic swarmed inside her. “Rafe, please,” she begged. “This is going to mess everything up.”
His head swung around. The fury in his eyes stopped her cold. “I’m a thief, Gabrielle. This is what I do. So why should I put it back?”
She clenched her hands, her stomach in total turmoil as he flung her words back at her. But she couldn’t explain why she’d lied, why she’d had to push him away. She could never let him know.
But if she got arrested for the theft … The police chief would get away with her father’s murder. He’d lock her behind bars—or worse.
“Listen,” she pleaded. “I know I’m asking a lot, but you have to believe me—”
“Believe you?” He let out a bitter laugh. “After the way you lied to me?”
“I didn’t—”
A man’s voice rose in the hallway, cutting her off. She froze in sudden alarm. Someone was coming. Oh, God. She had to go.
But she hadn’t found the flash drive yet.
“Expecting someone?” Rafe asked.
“What? No, of course not.” How could he think that?
Footsteps thudded outside the door. Her entire body tensed.
“Secure the stairs,” the man called out. “I’ll check the bedroom.”
Her stomach plunged. Raymundo Ortiz. The police chief. The man who’d slaughtered her father and nearly murdered her.
She stared at the door in horror, knowing she had to flee. But if she ran, she’d look guilty. And she hadn’t done anything wrong—aside from slipping the diplomat that drug. But did she dare stay and try to brazen it out, and confront that cold-blooded killer alone?
Rafe shot her a glare, as if she’d conjured up Ortiz, then pushed through the velvet drapes. The doorknob rattled hard. Her pulse went berserk. No way was she taking on Ortiz. She turned and rushed after Rafe.
She caught up with him at the alcove door. He whipped around, anger rolling off him in waves. “What do you want now?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Not with me, you aren’t.”
“Then move aside.” Frantic, she tried to step around him. He shot out his arm and blocked her way. “Are you crazy? You can’t just go waltzing out there. The guards will shoot you on sight.”
“I can’t stay in here.”
“The hell you can’t.”
“Rafe, please.” More thumps rose from the bedroom door, and her desperation surged. “Let me by. I can’t let him find me. I have to go.”
He scowled at her for several heartbeats, then hissed. “Fine, follow me. But you have to do what I say. I mean it.” His fierce gaze burned into hers. “You make one wrong move and you’re on your own.” Motioning for her to be quiet, he cracked open the alcove door.
Relieved he’d agreed to help her, she shot a nervous glance at the drapes. Ortiz must have come for the flash drive. He must have seen her leave the reception with the diplomat and somehow divined her plans. But why bring backup? Why advertise his presence? Shouldn’t he sneak into the bedroom alone?
Rafe glanced her way. “Stay close.”
He didn’t have to warn her. Ortiz ran the royal police. His armed guards swarmed the castle. It would take a miracle to escape.
Rafe crept onto the medieval wall walk. She scurried after, trying not to make any noise. Dressed all in black, he instantly merged with the shadows. Her heart beat triple time as she dogged his heels.
He strode to the nearby watch tower and picked up a bundle of rope—which came as no surprise. Rafe had always prepared his heists meticulously, calculating every contingency—his secret to avoiding arrest.
But suddenly, he wheeled around, grabbed her arm, and shoved her against the tower. She gasped. “What—?”
“Shh!”
He flattened his body against hers. The rough rocks dug at her bare back. A second later, a guard charged by, his rifle raised, his heavy boots pounding the stones.
And a wild sound wedged in her throat. She hadn’t even heard him coming. If it hadn’t been for Rafe, she’d be dead.
The guard reached the alcove door. He kicked it open and charged inside.
“Come on.” Rafe seized her arm, but he didn’t have to convince her to rush. She raced across the uneven wall walk beside him, running as fast as she could in her wobbly heels.
They flew past another watch tower, then jumped down a flight of stone steps. Shouts rose from the courtyard below them, and she prayed the crenellated edge of the battlement would keep them concealed.
But a minute later, Rafe stopped again. “Get down!”
She dove to the ground, heedless of the sharp stones scraping her legs through her flimsy dress, and pressed her back to the wall. A heartbeat later, the searchlight skipped overhead.
She struggled to breathe. A siren rose in the distance, adding more confusion to her already disordered thoughts. Why the show of force? She hadn’t done anything wrong as far as the police chief knew.
Unless he was chasing Rafe …
But that didn’t make sense. Rafe had planned this job down to the second, even timing the searchlight. How had Ortiz known that he’d broken in?
Rafe leaned close. His warm breath feathered her ear. “We’ll climb down here. I’ll go first. As soon as I’m clear, grab the rope and slide down.”
“Slide?” Down a three-story wall?
“There’s no time to lower you down.” He pulled off his leather gloves and pressed them into her hands. “Wear
