Gifted Thief (Highland Magic #1)(24)

Byron threw back his head and laughed. ‘Very well. Thank me by telling me your name.’

I turned back towards him, deliberately relaxing my posture as if I were warming to him. Which I most definitely wasn’t. He was a wanker who’d once treated me as if I were a piece of dirt. He’d called me pathetic. Well, I wasn’t so pathetic now. I was going to wrap him round my little finger, take from him exactly what I wanted, and then never, ever see him again. ‘What would you like it to be?’

He reached out and placed his hand on my bare arm. His touch seared my skin and, involuntarily, I jerked away. That wasn’t in the script. ‘Tell me,’ he repeated.

I hadn’t had a name when he knew of me before and the best lies are those that are wrapped around the truth. Deciding it wouldn’t do any harm, I told the truth. ‘Integrity.’

‘Interesting name.’ He leaned forward. ‘So, Integrity, do you live up to it? Are you honest and morally upright?’

‘If I wasn’t, would I admit it?’ I asked. Both of us were amping up the flirtation. It was faster than I’d have liked but I had to follow his lead. I had to make sure I didn’t screw this up.

He laughed again. ‘I guess not.’ He reached out again, this time taking my hands. I managed not to flinch. His thumb stroked the centre of my palm in a manner that was too familiar for someone I’d just met. Damn, but he was good. ‘You have very soft skin,’ he told me.

‘Actually, I have eczema all over my chest,’ I said with a straight face.

For the first time he appeared taken aback. ‘Really? That’s awful.’

‘Yes.’ I cast my eyes down and tried to look sad. ‘I have a cracking pair of tits.’

For a horrifying heartbeat I thought I’d completely misjudged the moment. Then Byron’s eyes crinkled and he laughed again. Without taking his eyes off my face, he purred, ‘I can’t disagree with that.’

I winked saucily just as Timothy returned with the bottle. Without so much as a flicker of apology for breaking our earlier deal, he presented the label to me. I swallowed. That was seriously expensive stuff. I gave a tiny nod – what else could I do – and he pulled out the cork in an expert motion. Without spilling a drop, he filled my glass.

I murmured my thanks and sipped. Although champagne wasn’t my usual tipple, this was damned good. ‘Aren’t you having any?’ I asked.

‘I’m more of a Scotch man myself.’ His eyes danced. ‘Even if whisky does make me frisky.’

I sucked in a breath. I opened my mouth to match his comment with one of my own when one of the other giggly Sidhe girls elbowed her way between us. ‘Your highness!’ she cooed. ‘Why don’t you come back and join us?’

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.