interests.â His eyes sparked with amusement.
She looked at the bed behind him. âReally sure.â
âYeâll change yer mind.â
âIf you say so.â She smiled at him, mocking him now. âHey, Maclean? Iâll be the first one into the vaultâwhen Rupert offers me a private viewing later this evening.â
He was amused. âReally? Anâ what if I offer ye the viewing now?â
She went still. âAre you kidding?â
His long, thick lashes lowered briefly. âI want to make amends.â
For one moment, she almost believed him. She knew he was trying to play her, though, and that was as far as it went. But two could play his game. âGet me in and I might forgive you.â
His lashes lifted and his gray gaze met hers. When he didnât move or speak, she pushed past him and he followed her into the elevator.
âA word of advice,â he said conversationally as the elevator began its descent. âI always get what I want.â
âGood. That makes two of usâwe have so much incommon!â The elevator was too small for them both. His big, masculine body was filling up the small space. But he was going to get her into the vault and that was what she needed to focus on. âHow are the new digs, by the way?â
âWhy donât ye come by anâ see for yourself?â
She thought that worth a trip uptown. âAny interesting art you can show me? Maybe a stolen masterpiece or two?â
His smile returned. âSo ye have been thinking about me.â
âItâs called homework.â
He grinned, pleased. As the elevator door opened, Sam walked past him, annoyed all over again. Maybe the real problem was his looks. He looked almost exactly like his father, Aidan of Awe, and that made him nearly irresistible. If he didnât have that dark, thick hair, those pale, sizzling gray eyes, the deep dimples when he smiled and the features of an Adonis, his sexuality wouldnât be so overwhelming. Heâd just be a gross horndog.
But he did look like one of the gods he was descended from. Sheâd be a liar if she didnât admit that he was one of the most beautiful men sheâd ever laid eyes onâand she hadnât even seen his body in the buff.
Well, sheâd seen the one part that counted the mostâin her book, anyway. She thought about the silver ring, her insides lurching, breathless all over again. That piercing had to have hurt like holy hell.
âItâs steel,â he said softly. âNot silver.â
Her gaze slammed to his. Heâd read her mindâand proved just how telepathic he was.
She led the way to the vault, focusing on the task at hand but terribly aware of him behind her. The back of Hemmerâs penthouse was as empty as before. She paused, gesturing at the steel door facing them. âI can sense evil and good. Right now, I canât feel a thing.â
He gave her a look she could not decipher, then reachedfor the heavy door handle. Sam had expected him to leap into the vault, taking her with him. âWhat are you doing?â she asked sharply, waiting for the alarms to start screaming. But an utter silence remained.
He smiled and turned the lever. The steel door opened.
He turned. âCome.â
âHow did you do that?â Sam asked, surprised.
He slowly smiled. âItâs as easy as the leap through time.â
It was clear that Maclean had used his mind to unlock the door and turn off the sensors and alarms. Now that was an incredibly useful trickâespecially for a thief.
âSo thatâs how you got the van Gogh?â
He sent her a modest smile, gesturing politely for her to precede him inside.
Interior lights had come on as the door had opened. Sam walked past him, her gaze wide, scanning the rows of stunning masterpieces on the two walls. The vault was like a long tunnel. âWho would want to keep their art locked up this