FRENETIC DRUM AND bass reverberated down the dark street. Irritation pulsed along Kitty Parkes-Wilson’s veins, keeping time with the relentless beat. It was too much to hope the neighbours would complain; no doubt they were wishing they could be at the party, all desperate to suck up to the rich new blood on the block.
Alejandro Martinez. Former management consultant turned venture capitalist. Millionaire. Promiscuous playboy. Party animal. And, since signing the documents three days ago, proud owner of the beautiful building in the heart of London that had, until said three days ago, been her family home. The home she’d grown up in, the one that had been in the family for more than five generations until her father had seized the wad of cash Alejandro Martinez had waved under his nose and skipped off to his sunny retirement villa in Corsica with his third picture-book-pretty wife. He’d cleared his debts and abandoned his failed business—and floored children.
All of which Kitty could handle. Just. Anyway, as much as she’d have liked to, the fact was she couldn’t have bought Parkes House herself. But she hadn’t even been told before it had been sold, and something had inadvertently been left in the Edwardian mansion. Something her father didn’t own and had no right to sell. And that she couldn’t cope with. Kitty Parkes-Wilson was on a retrieval mission and nothing and no one was going to stop her.
It wasn’t the necklace’s material worth that made it so important. Its loss meant her twin, Teddy, was in trouble, and her own heart was in trouble.
‘You can’t do this.’
She grinned at the way her brother could sound both aghast and excited.
‘You can’t stop me—I’m already here,’ she answered in a low voice, pressing her phone closer to her ear as she slowed down her pace just before arriving at her former home. ‘And you know I can do it.’
‘Damn it, Kitty, you’re crazy,’ Teddy growled. ‘You’re only just off the train; why do you have to rush into this? Come here and we can talk about it.’
If she stopped to talk about it too much, she’d lose her nerve. ‘The sooner I get it back the better. Now’s the perfect chance, what with the party and all.’
‘But what if you get caught—?’
‘I won’t,’ she impatiently interrupted. ‘He’ll be too busy partying with his models to notice me.’
Alejandro Martinez only dated supermodels, trading them in with efficient regularity. According to the theatre gossip Teddy had shared when he’d told her that the house was being sold, the current model was Saskia, the number one swimwear model in the North American sports magazine market. Kitty figured that with those legs to distract him, Mr Martinez would never notice the quick in-and-out of an uninvited party guest. Especially one who knew the secrets of the house and how to stay hidden as she snuck her way to the second-floor library.
‘It’s in the library post, right?’ She ignored her stomach’s hungry rumble and double-checked with her twin. ‘You’re sure about that?’
‘Positive.’ Her brother’s tone changed to out-and-out concerned again. ‘But Kitty, please, I’m really not sure—’
‘I’ll call you as soon as I’m clear, okay? Stop worrying.’ She ended the call before he could reply.
Adrenalin amped her muscles. She needed to concentrate and keep her confidence high. With a quick glance each way along the street, she quietly braced then hopped the fence. She ditched her small carry-on bag between a couple of shrubs and got to work.
Alejandro Martinez was not getting his hands on her Great-Aunt Margot’s diamond choker. He was not putting it on any of his many girlfriends. Kitty would go to prison before she let that happen. It was not a flashy bauble for a temporary lover.
The back door key was still hidden in the same spot of the communal gated garden where she’d first hidden it a decade before. No one but she and Teddy knew it existed or that it was there and so, despite the sale of the property, it hadn’t been handed to the new owner. She recovered it in less than ten seconds.
Phase one: complete.
She turned to look at the house. Brightly lit and in beautiful condition on the outside at least, it appeared to be the gleaming jewel in a row of similar styles. But Kitty knew the truth hidden beneath that freshly painted facade.
She made short work of the fence again then crossed to the corner of the street and found her way to the mews laneway behind the mansions. Her heart hammered as she neared the rear of the house. The lights were on, and she could see a catering worker at the sink.
That was when she threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin.
She unlocked the door, stepped in and smiled blithely at the kitchen hand, who looked up and gazed at her in astonishment. She waved the key at him and held her finger to her perfectly reddened lips. ‘Don’t tell him I’m here—I want to surprise him,’ she said as she confidently strolled past him and out into the corridor.
The dishwashing chap didn’t stop her. He didn’t say anything. He just turned back to the plate he was rinsing.
She’d learned a few things from sitting in on Teddy’s drama classes over the years.
Act confident. Fake it till you make it. Act like you own the place and people will believe you do.
People chose to believe the easiest option—the least trouble for them. And with her walking in all smiles, and with a key, who would doubt her right to be there?
Phase two: complete.
All she had to do now was head up the stairs to the private library, retrieve the necklace and get out again as fast as possible.
But curiosity bit. It had been months since she’d been home and now her heart ached with nostalgia for what she’d lost. In the three days since he’d taken over, what changes had Alejandro Martinez made?
Apparently he’d liked the look of the street and knocked on everyone’s doors to find someone willing to sell. Her father hadn’t been willing—he’d been desperate. Alejandro had been the answer to all his prayers. And Alejandro had got a good deal. House. Contents. Even the cars.
Winding up the company was one thing, but for her father to sell this home without saying a word to them beforehand was unforgivable. He’d sold everything in the house as well—only stopping to parcel up the few personal papers left in here. There were things she and Teddy might have liked, family treasures that had sentimental value. She didn’t care about the monetary side of things; she’d grown up knowing most of it would never be hers. Her father hadn’t thought of her—then again, he never had. But for once he’d not thought about Teddy either. Not that Teddy cared—he was glad not to have any reminders of the expectation he could never live up to. Except there was the last legacy from Great-Aunt Margot—the one Kitty had got her hair colour from, the one who’d given Kitty what confidence and fun she had. Great-Aunt Margot was her inspiration.
Kitty ventured down the corridor towards the bubble of music and chatter and laughter and glanced through the open doorway into the atrium.
The lighting there was much dimmer than in the kitchen. The guests probably thought it was low to set the ‘mood’ and make everyone look even more attractive, but they really didn’t need the help. No, the soft lighting was all about helping hide the aged, peeling paintwork and how much refurbishment and restoration work the house needed. It seemed Alejandro had had no hesitation in stripping