Gifted Thief (Highland Magic #1)

I caught a flash of annoyance in Byron’s emerald green eyes. Then he turned to her and smiled. ‘There’s no need to be so formal,’ he said to her. ‘Call me Byron.’


Her mouth parted and she licked her lips. She moved away from me so I was presented with her back and started to regale him with an anecdote about her girlfriends and another local bar. It wasn’t particularly interesting; besides I was prepared for competition. She was too young and too eager. I knew he’d get rid of her before long. And I could play this game too.

I shuffled away on my bar stool to give myself more room, took another sip of the delectable champagne and glanced casually around the bar, my gaze falling on the Cockney bloke. Feeling my eyes, he looked up and glowered. I shrugged in apology and offered a half smile. His mouth tightened and I thought he wasn’t going to take the bait but he wasn’t that unpredictable. Less than twenty seconds later he was back by my side.

‘You’ve changed your tune,’ he snarked.

I toyed with my glass. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude before. I’ve had a bad day. Now I’ve got a drink or two inside me, I’m starting to relax. Perhaps I can buy you one to make up for how I acted.’

‘I don’t let women buy me drinks,’ he threw out in typical Neanderthal fashion. Then he looked at Byron and the girl behind me. ‘I guess you’ve been given the brush off too.’

I smiled. ‘I guess so.’

He leered down my dress. ‘Why don’t we leave this place and head upstairs? Then maybe you’ll open those legs for me after all.’

Ick. Ick. Ick. I held up my palms. ‘Er, actually I…’

There was a sudden crack in the air and he was thrown backwards, falling several feet through the air and landing dazed against the wall. My mouth dropped open.

‘I think you owe the lady an apology,’ Byron growled. He was on his feet, his brows snapped together and his mouth tight. I’d expected a reaction but not that fast and not that violent. The Sidhe girl backed away, her hand clasped to her mouth as she looked from the sprawled Cockney to Byron and back again.

‘What happened?’ she squeaked.

I frowned at him. ‘I don’t need a hero,’ I told him. ‘I was handling that.’

His expression grew even darker. ‘It didn’t sound like you were handling it.’

I wondered if I was now seeing the real Byron, heir presumptive to the Sidhe stewardship and all that entailed. If that was the case, he certainly had a temper.

I made a quick decision. The flirtatious banter had gone and was unlikely to return. I still needed to be in full control of this situation and with Byron’s friends on their feet and the tense atmosphere in the bar, I wasn’t going to achieve that if I stuck around. I threw some money down and stood up, putting my bag on my shoulder. ‘I told you I was a pacifist,’ I said softly. ‘This is a little too rough and tumble for my liking. Thank you for the champagne. It was lovely meeting you. I’ll have something to tell my grandchildren.’ Then, without another word or glance at either him or the Cockney, I walked out.

Something poked me in my ribs. There was a muffled protest coming from my bag: Bob. I jabbed him back and began to count, crossing my fingers as I did so. One. Two. Into the lobby. Three. Four. Five. Shite. This was taking too long. Past the table with the elaborate flowers. Six. Seven. Up to the doorman. Arse. I’d misjudged the situation.

‘Integrity!’

I allowed myself a tiny smile. No, I’d got it right after all. I turned slowly, reluctantly.

‘Byron,’ I said with a sigh. ‘I think my quiet evening has been ruined. It’s time to head home.’

He regarded me seriously. ‘I can’t let you do that.’

He would have to do better than that. Come on, Golden Boy. Give me something to work with. ‘I don’t think it’s up to you.’

‘But it is. How can I possibly let you go with what happened there as the only story for your grandchildren? It’ll hurt my reputation immeasurably. You need to give me another chance so that they’ll think better of me.’

Better. I gave a silent round of applause. ‘I promise I’ll paint you in a very favourable light, my liege.’

He winced. ‘Don’t call me that. My father might be Steward but that doesn’t mean I will be.’

‘Byron.’ I softened my voice and looked at him up through my eyelashes, noting his reaction. Yep. He might be a pretty face but he was also pretty dumb. ‘I can’t go back in there,’ I told him, gesturing towards the bar. ‘It really is better if I go home.’

He tilted his head, a bronzed curl falling across his eyes. ‘We were getting along very well, Integrity,’ he murmured. ‘Let’s not ruin things. I have the penthouse suite. I can get Timothy to send up the champagne. No one else is going to drink it and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.’

I did an imaginary dance. I am a sexual goddess. At least for tonight anyway. ‘I don’t know… I’ve got work tomorrow and…’