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?’
‘Get back into your blade,’ I growled. ‘I don’t have time for this.’
He pouted. ‘Aw, come on, Uh Integrity! Where are we?’ He pulled himself up, peered over the edge of the bag and gave a low whistle. ‘Damn, girl! This is seriously posh! High living!’
‘Bob,’ I said through gritted teeth, ‘so help me God, if you don’t get back into your blade and give me some peace I’m going to throw you out the window.’
He stuck out his tongue. ‘I already told you, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Not any more.’
‘Maybe not. But it’ll still hurt when you hit the ground. And keep your voice down.’
‘Why? Are you playing hide and seek? I love hide and seek! I’m so good at it! Let me join in.’ He began jumping up and down, making the bag bounce. ‘Come on. Let me join in!’
I gave him the nastiest look I could muster. He sighed dramatically. ‘You’re really mean.’
‘That’s right,’ I told him. ‘I really am. Now shut the hell up and get into that blade.’
He pulled another face. ‘You didn’t say I wish.’
‘Bob…’
He retreated. ‘Fine, fine. Honestly. Women!’
I covered my eyes as he flashed back in. Relieved that he was doing as he was told, I rummaged around for my lipstick and quickly unscrewed the bottom of the tube. Two small white tablets fell out. I palmed them quickly. Byron might be Sidhe but these babies were enough to knock out an ox. They were harmless enough, though. He’d wake up in the morning with a sore head – by which time I’d be well away.
After flushing the toilet and checking my make-up, I left the bathroom. Byron was gazing out over the night sky, his back turned. Timothy had sent up the champagne and two chilled glasses were sitting on the table top. Perfect. With one fluid movement, I dropped the tablets into the one that was furthest away. The tablets fizzed slightly but dissolved to nothing within moments. I gave myself a mental high five.
I cleared my throat. ‘You’re switching to champagne?’
He turned. ‘Like I said, whisky makes me frisky. And I promised you one drink and one drink alone.’ He reached behind me and grabbed the nearest glass by its stem, handing it to me before taking the other – the spiked one ? for himself.
‘You’re a true gentleman,’ I murmured, raising my glass up to his then taking a sip. ‘Slainte.’
‘Slainte,’ he replied. Then he drained his glass in one gulp. Hurray!
I smiled and took a sip from mine. ‘This really is good.’
‘I’m glad you approve.’ He leaned towards me and I felt a lurch in the pit of my stomach, sure that he was making a move. Instead, he reached around me again and returned his glass to the table top. Then he pulled back. ‘So, Integrity. I know you like hot pink and you hate violence but I don’t know much else. What do you do for a living?’
‘I’m in security. It’s pretty boring.’
‘Security?’ He glanced up and down my body until I was forced to repress a shiver. ‘Forgive me, but you don’t seem built for that kind of position.’
I needed to get him sitting down. The last thing I wanted was the current Steward’s son keeling over in mid-conversation and banging his head. I didn’t need to be accused of attempted regicide, whether Byron claimed he held no actual title or not.
I put down my own glass and met his eyes. ‘What kind of position do you think I’m built for?’ I asked. There was no mistaking my meaning.