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seen it. She was good at what she did, obviously, but that moment of vulnerability caught his attention—and his interest.
    “I saved your life,” she finally said, her unaffected mask dropping into place again, “so you owe me a favor. Tell them—the police, the FBI, the news—that I didn’t kill that guard, and that I didn’t try to kill you. I’ll deal with the rest on my own.”
    “I see.” Richard wasn’t certain whether he was more intrigued by her or annoyed that she expected him to make her error go away. “You want me to fix things so you can walk awayfrom this, without repercussions, owing to the fact that while you’ve been bad elsewhere, you were unsuccessful here.”
    “I’m bad everywhere,” she returned, with a slight smile that momentarily made him wonder how far she would go in her quest to see herself cleared of any wrongdoing. “Accuse me of attempted theft. But clear me of murder.”
    “No.” He wanted answers, but his way. And not through some sort of compromise, intriguing though she made it sound.
    She met his gaze straight on for a moment, then nodded. “I had to try. You might consider, though, that if I didn’t set that bomb, someone else did. Someone who’s better at getting into places than I am. And I’m good. Very good.”
    “I’d wager you are.” He watched her for another moment, wondering what she’d be like with all of that coiled energy released. She definitely knew how to push his buttons, and he wanted to push a few of hers. “I’ll admit you may have something I’m interested in acquiring,” he said slowly, “but it’s not your theories or your request for aid.”
    Returning to her position beneath the skylight, she yanked her arm down. The end of a length of rope tumbled into the room. “Oh, Mr. Addison. I never give something for nothing.”
    He found that he wasn’t quite ready for her to leave. “Perhaps we could negotiate.”
    She released the rope, approaching him with a walk that looked half Catwoman and all sexy. “I already suggested that, and you turned me down. But be careful. Somebody wants you dead. And you have no idea how close somebody like me can get, without you ever knowing,” she murmured, lifting her face to his.
    Jesus. She practically gave off sparks. He could feel the hairs on his arms lifting. “I would know,” he returned in the same low tone, taking a slow step closer, daring her to make the next move. If she did, he was going to touch her. He wanted to touch her, badly. The heat coming off her body was almost palpable.
    She held where she was, her lips a breath away from his, then with another fleeting grin slid away to grab the rope again. “So you weren’t surprised tonight, were you?” With a fluid coordination of arms and legs, she swarmed up through the skylight. “Watch your back, Addison. If you’re not going to help me, I’m not going to help you.”
    “Help me?”
    She vanished, then ducked her head back into the room. “I know things the cops would never have a clue how to find out. Good night, Addison.” Miss Smith blew him a kiss. “Sleep tight.”
    Richard stepped forward to look up, but she had already disappeared. “I was surprised,” he conceded, taking another swallow of brandy. “And now I need a cold shower.”
     
    Samantha gave Addison credit for one thing. He didn’t sound the alarm while she slipped out of his very nice house, over the side wall, and away from his very nice grounds.
    It had been a stupid idea. She’d only been in hiding for two days, and already she was taking foolish chances. Of course he had no reason to believe her, much less to want to help her—even if she had a damned good idea who had done the bombing. Not that she had any intention of ratting out Etienne to anyone—but she could damned well turn their attention away from her. Now, though, she’d given him a better look at her, informed him and thereby the police that she was still in the area, and proven