Page 27 of Gifted Thief
Mischief danced in his emerald-green eyes. ‘I’ll show you.’ He blinked languorously like a cat. That’s when I felt it. The zip at the back of my dress tugged. What the hell? I jumped and he chuckled – but he didn’t stop. Without touching me, he continued to lower my zip. My fingers scrabbled at my back.
‘Stop that!’
He smiled. ‘Okay.’ The strap on my shoulder began to slip down instead, exposing my bra. ‘Mm. Hot pink underwear to match your hot pink dress. Youdolike that colour.’
I squeaked, ‘That’s enough!’
‘If you insist.’
‘I do!’ I wagged my finger. ‘One drink, remember? Nothing else.’
‘As if I could forget,’ he murmured. ‘Come on, turn around. I’ll fix you back up.’
I didn’t ask why he wasn’t using his Gift to return my clothing to its appropriate state. I already knew. His fingers brushed against my skin, lingering as he gently pulled my shoulder strap back up. Then he slowly pulled up the zip. ‘I can’t believe our paths haven’t crossed before,’ he said in a low voice.
Oh, he knew all the right things to say and all the right moves to make. I reminded myself that he was a playboy. I knew that, even though I avoided reading the tabloids and gossip sheets whenever the Sidhe were involved.
Control, Integrity. You’re in control.
‘Just our bad luck,’ I whispered.
A bell sounded as the lift arrived at its designated floor. Both Byron and I flinched then I turned round to catch his eye and laughed nervously. He stared at me for a moment before smiling. ‘Here we are,’ he said. ‘Home sweet home. At least for the next three nights anyway.’
He took my hand and led me into the penthouse and through a heavy self-locking door which I took careful note of. Once inside I made a point of looking around casually. Damn. This was pretty swish. I walked over to the large window and gazed out. ‘You’re a lucky guy,’ I commented, ‘getting to experience all this.’
‘Believe me, I know.’
‘And you’re only here for three nights?’
He nodded. ‘I have some business to attend to.’
I got the impression from his tone that he didn’t want to talk about it. That suited me. I only wanted to know where the Lia Saifire was being kept. I offered a brilliant smile. ‘I’ve never been in a penthouse before. Can you give me the grand tour?’
His mouth quirked up. ‘It would be my pleasure.’
I followed him around. The place was impressive. And ostentatious. I exclaimed over the elaborate chandeliers and cooed over the soft furnishings. I wasn’t expecting to see the gem on display, of course, but there was bound to be a safe somewhere. I strolled over to a large painting of two hunting dogs gazing up at a bird of prey.
‘Beautiful artwork,’ I said as I tried to work out whether it was a front for a wall safe.
‘It’s not really to my taste,’ he said. ‘Come on. I’ll show you the bedrooms.’
I trailed after him, hoping it was clear that this was a tour and nothing else. Fortunately, after the little show of power in the lift, he was now on his best behaviour. He pointed out the vast bed and the modern painting hanging above it, as well as the ensuite. His tone remained neutral. Thank goodness.
We were returning to the main living room area when I saw it. One of the vast wardrobe doors was open less than an inch and, nestled there inside like a gift from the gods, was a safe. My stomach flipped. Bingo. I could feel my skin prickling in anticipation. Now I was getting somewhere.
‘Do you mind if I use your bathroom?’ I asked.
Byron grinned at me. ‘Be my guest. You can use the ensuite or there’s another one to your left, next to the second bedroom.’
As tempting as it was to scoot back to Byron’s own bedroom and see what I could make of the safe, I wasn’t stupid enough to burn all my bridges just yet. I gave him a rueful smile, suggesting that I wasn’t brave enough to venture back into his bedroom, and pointed to the other bathroom. I received a lazy smirk in return.
‘Don’t be long.’
My stomach flipped again. Goddamnit. The sensation was because I was so close to my goal, I told myself. It had nothing to do with the smoky look in his eyes or the rasp in his voice. I did not want Byron Moncrieffe. I wanted the freaking Lia Saifire. Everything depended on it.
I shut the bathroom door and carefully locked it, then leaned against and put my hand to my forehead. This was a job, like any other. It was time to stop acting like an idiot and start being more professional. Byron was ripe for the picking; everything he’d done up till now had proven that. I knew where the Lia Saifire was. I was on easy street. I just had to remember that.
I opened my bag. Bob grinned at me and gave a little wave. ‘Hey! How’s it going?’
