Gifted Thief (Highland Magic Book 1)

by Helen Harper

  What the hell had happened to me? Everything was going so swimmingly … I ran through the events in my mind. It had to have been the champagne. Somehow – and I had no idea how – I must have drunk from the spiked glass instead of Byron. That would explain why I’d felt the sudden urge to throw caution to the wind and fling myself at him. And the current wham-wham pounding in my head. Frankly, it was a bloody good thing that I’d passed out before things went any further.

  I scowled. He didn’t have to strip me though. And he could have put my unconscious body in the second bedroom. Or on the sofa.

  His breath, hot on the back of my neck, was soft and even. I’d just have to hope he was a sound sleeper because I was getting into that safe and getting the Lia Saifire right now. Enough was enough.

  As gingerly as I could, I wriggled my hips forward to extricate myself from his leg. Then I reached down for his arm and tried to loosen his grip. He murmured something in his sleep and tightened his hold. Crapadoodle. I tried again.

  Inch by slow inch, I slid down and forward, trying to create enough room so I could roll free. I could climb up glass-faced buildings, jump down elevator shafts and perform acrobatic feats that the general public would find impossible, yet freeing myself from one stupid, sleeping Sidhe was almost impossible. In the end, I pulled myself away with a sharp tug. I hadn’t had much choice.

  I sprang backwards and looked at Byron. He was still fast asleep, long lashes curling against his cheek. His hair was rumpled and he remained as sexy as hell. Mentally I slapped myself. Get a grip, girl.

  Spying my dress on a nearby chair, I tiptoed over and grabbed it. I shimmied into it, just managing to pull up the zip, then edged to the safe. Byron hadn’t moved a muscle. This was good. I’d just reached the wardrobe, however, and was sliding it open to access the safe when there was a sudden cough. Shite.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, sleep blurring his voice.

  ‘Uh, just looking for my shoes!’ I sang out. Damn it.

  He sat up. ‘You’re leaving?’

  Not without the Lia Saifire, I wasn’t. ‘Yes,’ I said, doing what I could to look guilt-ridden. ‘Walk of shame.’

  Byron ran a hand through his hair while I tried very hard not to notice the ripples in his chest. Not hard enough. ‘You can stay,’ he said. ‘I can order in breakfast.’

  There was a traitorous part of me that loved that idea. We could sit across the table from each other, nibbling at croissants, then… ‘I really should go. I’ve got, um, work.’

  ‘Oh. Okay then.’

  Was that disappointment or relief in his face? ‘Well,’ I said airily, ‘it was nice meeting you. Thanks for the champagne and sorry about the, you know, falling unconscious part. I should remember to eat next time.’ Not that there would be a next time. I pivoted on my heel.

  ‘Integrity, wait.’

  I turned slowly back. ‘Yes?’

  His eyes fixed on me, freezing my body into place. ‘Nothing happened last night. I’m not that kind of guy. You conked out so quickly that I was worried. It made more sense to keep you with me so I could check on you.’ He inhaled. ‘I’d really like to see you again.’

  I almost snorted. He’d not achieved end-game status yet; that was why he didn’t want this to be over. So predictable. ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ll call you.’

  ‘You don’t have my number.’

  I shrugged. ‘The hotel is pretty well known. I’ll find you.’

  Before I could leave, Byron got to his feet. Without meaning to, my eyes drifted down. He was wearing a pair of silky black boxers and nothing else. I stared for a moment at the trail of hair leading downwards and swallowed, then glanced up again. His mouth twitched and he stepped right in front of me.

  ‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re giving me brush off?’ he asked, reaching out and fingering my hair lightly.

  I tried to smile. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps it happens to you a lot?’

  ‘Girls don’t normally try and run out the door. They normally try and hang around for as long as possible.’

  I bet they did. ‘What can I say? I’m a busy person.’

  His gaze heated up. ‘Promise me that you’ll call. I’m in meetings all day but I’ll be free after six.’

  I looked straight at him. ‘I promise,’ I lied.

  ‘Good.’ He bent his head until his breath was hot against my neck. ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ he whispered.

  I almost ran out of the room. I could swear he chuckled as the door closed behind me. So he was good looking, I told myself. And I could feel fizzy lust zipping through my system whenever I looked at him. It was merely a combination of the drugs and the fact that it had been too long since I’d had a man. He was a sexy guy and I wasn’t immune. It didn’t make me want to marry him or have his babies any more than he wanted that from me. I sighed. He certainly lived up to his reputation.

  Locating my shoes at the far end of the sofa, I scooped them up along with my bag. There wasn’t a peep from Bob so at least something was going my way. I clumped out to the front door, keeping one wary eye on Byron’s bedroom. When I was sure he wasn’t about to suddenly appear, I wrenched open the door and stood back, letting it slam shut. There was still no sound from the bedroom. Perfect. I tiptoed over to the silent unoccupied second bedroom and sneaked inside.

  There was a gap underneath the bed. It would be a tight squeeze but I reckoned I could manage it if I had to. Helpfully, there were also several built-in wardrobes. It was nice to have options. Now all I had to do was wait and hope that Byron didn’t plan to hold his meetings here in the suite. He had to leave sooner or later. I pinched the bridge of my nose and wished I’d thought to grab a glass of water before I pretended to leave. My mouth was as dry as a badger’s arse. My breath probably smelled even worse.

  If I closed the bedroom door completely, I wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Whoever had crafted this room put a lot of effort into the details. I was certain, however, that it been ajar last night so, as long as I was careful, I could leave it that way and give myself a line of sight into the living room.

  I experimented with the light, checking that my shadow wouldn’t give me away if I stood in the corner, and peeked out. The chance of Byron wandering in here was slim. If he did, however, I wanted to be able to scoot under the bed without him noticing the flicker of movement.

  Once I was satisfied with my position, I relaxed a little. Not a moment too soon either as I heard the door opening and Byron emerging. I squinted at him through the gap. He’d dressed casually in a pair of jogging trousers and tight T-shirt. It was as if he had to show off his pecs, even when he was alone. Poser.

  He moved around the room, sometimes within my line of sight and sometimes not. After downing a glass of juice which looked so orange and so tasty that I was gagging to run out and snatch it from him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He walked to the window and murmured into it. It was annoying that I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I tensed, straining my ears, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t catch more than a word or two.

  Not long after he hung up, there was a sharp rap on the door. Byron strolled over and opened it.

  ‘Morning. How are things?’ asked another male voice. ‘I thought you’d be done by now.’

  ‘Things are good,’ he answered. ‘It’s just a more delicate operation than I realised. I’m going to take my time. Come on. Let’s head downstairs and see what Jamie has to say.’

  I frowned. Delicate operation? That was an odd way to talk about getting your leg over. Not that I really cared. In fact, it probably wasn’t anything to do with my little sleepover and was about the business he was in town for.

  I nibbled my bottom lip. Was he here just for the Lia Saifire or was the jewel merely an added bonus? The part of me that had flirted with him the night before hoped the jewel’s disappearance wouldn’t cause him too many problems. The part of me that remembered what it was like to be eleven years old and
dismissed by him hoped that it would.

  I wasn’t used to feeling this conflicted and I didn’t like it.

  After he left, I stayed where I was. It was important to wait for at least ten minutes. Speck used to tell a story about when he’d hung around hotels and, using a cleverly keyed master card that he’d developed himself, darted into the guest rooms when the occupants went down to breakfast. There were at least three occasions when he was almost caught. People are forgetful. They come back to see if they’ve left the iron on. Or they need their wallet or their phone or whatever. I had to allow for those sorts of memory lapses. It’s not like this was my first snatch and grab; I was an experienced professional.

  Once the allotted time had passed, I opened the door and snuck out. The suite was completely silent. Allowing myself a moment of luxury, I grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the tap and gulped it down. Damn, that was good. Then I squared my shoulders. It was time to get down to business.

  Humming the theme tune to The Guns of Navarone, I went back into the main bedroom, making a beeline for the wardrobe. I pushed it open and knelt down, examining the small safe. I almost laughed aloud; it was a typical cheap hotel version. Breaking into this would be a piece of cake. The standard keypad lock would take me mere seconds to open. You’d think that a hotel as exclusive as this – and a suite as expensive as this – would have a better system. I tutted to myself. Served them right for taking so much care over the luxury fixtures and fittings and skimping on the important stuff.

  I tried a few quick variations, just in case Byron had been daft enough to use an easy to remember number. When 0000 didn’t work, nor 1234 or 4321, I pressed down on the ‘lock’ button until the LED display flashed. With my thumb, I jabbed in a series of nines and the safe buzzed. Hey presto. It really was that easy. I grinned. No crappy hotel safe was a match for me.

  I reached inside. There were envelopes and papers and a slim, velvet-covered box. I took out the box and flipped it open. A dazzling necklace lay there, nestled against the black lining. Well, that was a nice little bonus. I lifted up one edge of it then I frowned. It was fake. The gems were nothing more than paste. I snorted. Some poor girl was going to be unpleasantly ‘tricked’ by good old Byron.

  I tossed it back inside and squinted towards the back of the safe. Three seconds later I stood up and slammed my fist down on the top of it, making the contents inside jump.

  No sodding way. Not again. The Lia Saifire wasn’t inside here either.

  I cursed, closed the safe door and paced round the bedroom. I’d been so sure that’s where it would be. I took several deep breaths. It wasn’t the end of the world; it just meant that Byron wasn’t stupid enough to trust the safe. He’d either left the jewel in the main hotel safe downstairs – which would be a pain in the arse to get to but far from impossible – or it was somewhere else in the suite.

  I pursed my lips and considered. If I were a Sidhe Clan heir with more money than sense, where would I keep a priceless gem? Under the bed, perhaps? I got down on the floor. Nope. Nothing there. Maybe in a cupboard. I checked every one I could find. No luck there either. Fridge? No. Under the sofa cushions? No. In the toilet cistern? No.

  I spent a good thirty minutes exhausting every possibility. When I was certain the Lia Saifire wasn’t anywhere I could access, I plonked myself down in the centre of the room to mull things over. It would take another twenty-four hours to access the main safe next to reception and I didn’t want to waste that kind of time unless I absolutely had to.

  Perhaps the wardrobe safe was a front and there was another one lurking somewhere, albeit better hidden? But how long could I waltz around here before Byron decided to come back?

  I picked at a hangnail then grabbed my bag. It wasn’t ideal but if I played my cards right I might able to wing it successfully. I slid out the letter opener and gave it a tap. When nothing happened immediately, I rubbed it against the fabric of my dress. There was an odd hiss followed by the familiar flash of blinding light and Bob appeared, standing on my leg.

  ‘I was asleep,’ he complained. ‘You ignore me for days and then, when I finally decide to get some shut-eye, you force me to get up.’

  Exasperated, I folded my arms. ‘It was hardly days. It’s been less than ten hours.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘I just lose all track of time when I’m stuck in that thing.’ He looked around, realising he was on my thigh and grinned. ‘Hey girl. Nice legs!’

  ‘Piss off,’ I grunted.

  He bent over, poking me experimentally. He was too tiny for it to hurt, but it was still irritating. ‘Nice muscle tone, Uh Integrity. Wait a minute though. Weren’t you wearing this before? Have you not been home yet? Girrrrl! You one bad lady.’

  I willed myself not to react. ‘Bob…’ I said tiredly.

  ‘Huh?’ He glanced up as if confused. Then he shook himself as comprehension dawned and a look of pure glee transformed his face. ‘You’ve finally come to your senses! You want your first wish!’

  I drummed my fingers against my arm. ‘Let’s say I’m thinking about it. It’s just…’ I let my voice trail off.

  Bob frowned. ‘Just what?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to offend you. Go back to sleep.’

  ‘No, no, no, no! You can’t offend me. Tell Uncle Bob what the problem is.’

  I fidgeted. ‘How do I know you’re any good? I mean, I know there’ll be side effects from any wish I make but what if the wish doesn’t work? I get all the nasty stuff to deal with and none of the benefits. I’d like to make a wish but I’m not sure I can trust you to be experienced enough.’

  Bob’s jaw dropped. He stared at me as if I were mad. ‘Not experienced enough?’ he shrieked. ‘Not experienced enough?’ His voice rose to an extraordinarily high pitch. Any choir would welcome that sort of soprano.

  ‘Okay,’ I said hastily, ‘maybe you do have lots of experience. But you could be really rusty too. You said yourself that you lose track of time when you’re stuck in the blade. Who knows how long it’s been since you last did any wish fulfilment? I’m not sure I can take the risk.’

  Bob was clearly aghast. ‘I am a wish expert. In the world of wishes, there is none better than me!’

  I shrugged. ‘Prove it.’

  ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘Ask for something.’ He waved his little arms in the air. ‘Make it something small, mind. I’m not giving away the big stuff for free.’

  I blew air out through pursed lips. ‘So asking you to cure a fatal disease would be a no-no, then?’

  ‘You bet your cute arse it would be.’

  ‘Hmm. Okay. How about you find an object? Lost and found has got to be pretty simple, right?’

  He scoffed. ‘Yeah, right. You ask for the Hope diamond as a test and then you’re set for life.’ He waggled his finger at me. ‘No chance, sweet cheeks.’

  ‘Hey, you don’t need to retrieve the object. Just tell me where it is. If you don’t think you can do even that though…’

  ‘I can do that! Of course I can do that! What shall I search for?’

  I tapped the corner of my mouth. ‘There was something in the paper yesterday about a jewel. Some kind of sapphire, I think. Lia Saifire, perhaps?’

  He clicked his fingers. ‘Done!’

  Placing two fingers on his temples, he closed his eyes and began to murmur. ‘Shamamamamamama.’

  ‘What on earth is that?’

  He opened one eye and frowned. ‘Don’t interrupt me! I’m concentrating.’

  I leaned back and kept my mouth shut, doing everything I could not to grin. After several seconds, he looked at me again. ‘The Lia Saifire is in the possession of a young Sidhe man. He has dark hair, two adorable dimples in his chubby little cheeks and he’s staying at the Astor Hotel in room number 907. Ta da!’ His brow creased. ‘Hold on. Where are we right now?’

  ‘We’re on the floor next to a coffee table.’
>
  ‘The floor where?’ Bob’s eyes narrowed. ‘Wait a minute. We’re in the Astor Hotel too! You bitch! You tricked me! That’s what you wanted to know all along!’

  ‘Oops.’

  ‘I hate you, Uh Integrity.’

  ‘Sorry, Bob,’ I said, obviously not sorry at all. ‘Knock knock.’

  Bob sniffed loudly. ‘Who’s there? Bitch.’

  ‘Raoul.’

  ‘Raoul who?’

  I gave him a serious look. ‘Raoul with the punches.’

  ‘I hate you!’ he howled.

  ‘Bye Bob. Go back and catch up on your sleep.’

  He waved his fists in the air. ‘I’m going to pay you back, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ I nudged him gently with the tip of my finger. ‘Go on. Off you go.’

  He turned his back on me and folded his arms. ‘I’m not talking to you.’

  ‘I deserve that.’

  ‘You’re damn right you do.’ Without another glance at me, he leapt back into the letter opener. I only just managed to shield my eyes in time. ‘Sorry,’ I murmured again. ‘Needs must though.’

  I returned the blade to its sheath and considered what he’d told me. I knew exactly who he was referring to. What didn’t make sense was why Byron had palmed off the jewel to one of his entourage rather than keeping it for himself. Unless it was a gift, of course. A pretty expensive gift, though.

  I leaned back on my hands. It appeared I’d been attempting to seduce the wrong Sidhe. Oh well. It was a lady’s prerogative to change her mind. I pushed away the flicker of disappointment. From the blush I’d received from my new target in the bar yesterday, he’d be far easier to manage than Byron. I just needed to shift gears slightly.

  I got to my feet and yanked down my dress. As I was about to pull on my shoes and leave, I heard the buzz of voices right outside the door. Shite. I grabbed the shoes, my bag and the letter opener and made a dash for the spare bedroom. Byron’s timing sucked.

  Chapter Eight

  I pushed myself into the corner of the room away from the door. In theory, I no longer needed to spy on Byron and find out what he was doing. but it was possible he was with his Sidhe mate who had the Lia Saifire. That would be useful to know. When I peered through the open gap, it certainly wasn’t so I could catch another glimpse of the Moncrieffe heir. No sirree.