Dark Lover (17 page)

Sam felt somewhat chagrined. “Good. Then stay home tonight.”

Jan shook her head, disgusted. “Why on earth would you agree to go to Hemmer's, on any terms?”

“Guess you missed my report. There's evil in the vault.”

Jan's eyes widened.

“Rupert likes me,” Sam said. “He's offered me a viewing, which will get me into the vault. And he told me to bring Ian so we can have a party.”

Jan absorbed that. “We got back the labs. Hemmer is one hundred percent human. Not a drop of unusual DNA.”

Sam looked at Maclean, who was seriously interested in their exchange now. He said pleasantly, “I could have told ye that and saved ye time and yer tests. But he's still dangerous.”

“I have no doubt.” Jan smiled. “Nick is waiting.”

Sam wondered if Jan could actually play Ian. As Jan led the way toward Nick's office, she said, “By the way, thanks for the hot car.”

“So ye like it.” He seemed pleased.

“Oh, I like it. Maybe I'll even give you that ride.”

Jan paused at Nick's door to let them walk inside past her. Nick was waiting for them, his hip on the edge of his desk. She knew from his too calm, oh-so-pleasant expression that he was in his
I Am Going to Win At All Costs
mode.

She forgot about Ian's interest in Jan. She tensed, glancing at Ian. Maclean wore a nearly identical poker face. But his eyes were as cold as ice.

The energy in the room was hot, male and amping up. Two superbulls were waiting to impale one another. And the worst part was, they both had the otherworldly power to do it.

“Tell the women to leave,” Ian said.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Nick said. “But the ladies can stay.”

“I have an offer fer ye.”

“Everything said in this room stays in this room.”

Ian's face hardened.

“I know your father and I were hoping this day would
come.” Nick smiled. “Of course, I was hoping for more pleasant circumstances. How is Aidan, by the way? How is Lady Brianna?”

Ian's smile was cold. “I wouldn't know. I don't keep in touch. But then, ye know that, don't ye? It's in my file.”

“Of course you wouldn't know. You're out of your time. All alone, consorting with evil, stealing what you want, when you want…Isn't it lonely, to be living like that?”

“I'm here fer my file,” Ian said. “Not to discuss how I live.”

“But I
want
to discuss how you live and the choices you've made. Because, you see, those choices impact me.” He added, “Aidan must be so disappointed in you.”

Ian was becoming angrier by the minute. Sam felt like interfering. Why did Nick have to dig a knife in?

“In fact, his heart must be broken.”

Ian was incredulous. “If his heart is broken, that's his problem, not mine! I'm here for my file. It belongs to me. I want it.” Ian seethed.

“And the old gods must be pissed. Not a good idea, to annoy any god, even an old one.”

Ian laughed. “The old gods don't care what I do and if ye think otherwise, yer a fool.”

“The one thing I'm not, Maclean, is a fool.”

“If ye have a file on me, then yer very foolish,” Ian said, softly now. “Because I won't allow it.”

Nick grinned. “Here at HCU, I am king. All the files here belong to me.”

“Stop baiting him,” Sam said. “A war won't solve anything.”

Nick glanced coolly at her. Ian turned, his gaze blazing with anger.

“A little sugar goes a long way,” she added.

Ian wasn't mollified but Nick sighed. “She's right, Maclean. Let's start over. I think we can help each other.”

“Really?” Ian mocked. He shuddered, and a number of photographs and plaques fell off the wall, some books tumbling from the bookcases.

“Very adult,” Nick said. “I know you have power, Maclean.”

“Then don't make me use it.”

Jan walked over to Ian and laid her hand on his arm. Sam blinked in disbelief as Ian shrugged her off. “Ian, give Nick a chance,” Jan tried. “And, Nick, please. He isn't evil. He's simply lost his way.”

Ian glanced at her coldly.

Sam choked.

“Damn it, Nick. Give him a break,” Jan added softly.

Ian looked sharply at her. But of course she had his attention—she was Amazing Jan.

“Are you kidding?” Nick asked. “He stole the page of illusion. And he plans to sell it to the highest bidder for cash. I am not giving him any breaks. Let's make a deal, Maclean. One that helps us both.”

Jan gestured at the leather sofa and chairs at the far end of the office, her red nails still on Ian's bare arm. “Why don't we sit down? Would you like a drink, Ian?”

He looked at her, then at Sam. “No.”

Jan dropped her hand. She shared a quick look with Nick. Sam wished she could read their minds.

Nick grimaced. “All right, Maclean. Let's start over. Jan is right—she usually is. My bad, but then, I'm not a diplomat. However, I'm sure you understand. I'm just a wee bit nervous over the page being in the wrong hands—and falling into worse hands. Not to mention I almost lost one of my best agents in that damned stupid car chase yesterday.”

Ian folded his arms tightly across his chest. “Sam didn't die.”

Nick smiled pleasantly. “Let's keep it that way. Because
I'm real fond of my little Frisbee-wielding femme fatale. If Sam dies on your watch, you die.”

Ian smiled back at him unpleasantly. “The one thing I don't want,” he said very softly, “is our Sam dead.”

“Be careful, Maclean. Because the player might get played.”

“I look forward to it.”

Sam stepped between them. “Time out. We're making a deal, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Nick asked too softly.

Sam lost her temper. “Then do it! Nick, he's one of the good guys, damn it.”

Nick finally gave her his attention. “No, he's not. He could be, but instead, he deals with demons and mutts, the tainted, the corrupt. He'll sell the page to anyone, good or evil, as long as the price is right. And he might even sell it to evil, just to say
I gotcha
. Am I right, Maclean?” Nick's cold blue gaze settled on Ian.

“Yer so right,” Ian said. “In fact, if ye don't give me the file and destroy all copies while I watch, I will sell it to the first demon who bids on it—with pleasure.”

This was going from bad to worse.

Nick shook his head, his mouth hard and tight. “I knew it. He's played you for a fool, Sam. He doesn't need a break. He needs to be broken.”

“Can you try to remember what he's lived through?” she cried. “He's already broken!”

Ian whirled. “Shut up,” he told her, livid. “I don't need your help and I don't want it.”

She stiffened. Damn it, she thought, really shaken. Her heart actually ached for him. He shouldn't have this kind of past to hide.

“I thought so. You feel sorry for him,” Nick accused.

Sam tried to block her thoughts from him. “I'm trying to broker a deal here. No easy task, with both of you being
hormonally challenged. Maybe we should bleed some testosterone out of you both the way wildlife guys milk rattlesnakes, before this meeting becomes World War IV.”

Nick ignored her. “Okay, Maclean. Here's the deal. I'll give you the original file and walk you through the destruction of every copy—after you've handed over the page and it's been authenticated by my people.”

Ian laughed, the sound mocking. He said, low and still flushed, “I'll consider
selling
the U.S. government the page. And as a sign of my good faith, I'll postpone the auction fer another week, so you can find the cash you'll need to make a proper bid. I'll even discount it. But in return, ye give me the original file
now
. When we make a deal, I'll destroy the copies and then give ye the page.”

Nick stared. “You know we don't have the kind of money that Hemmer and his kind have. Our budget is about two cents. And I don't trust you as far as I can spit.”

Ian shrugged. “I'll let the page go for twenty-five million, U.S.” he said. “Hemmer paid over two hundred million dollars for it,” he added unnecessarily.

Nick stared angrily at him. “I'll never get that kind of budget approved.”

“Then yer out.”

“Then you'll never know what's in your big fat two-inch-thick file, will you? Give us the page and you can have your file, right now. I'll destroy the backup myself, as you watch.”

Ian glanced at her briefly and said, “Five million U.S. dollars. And I walk out of here with the file. When I receive the cash, we'll make the trade.”

Nick said swiftly, “I'll need to make some phone calls. I don't have the authority to approve the cash and you're still out of my budget.”

“Fine. Make yer calls. But I am leaving here today with the file.”

Nick shook his head. “Impossible.”

Nick was playing a delaying game, Sam thought. Once Ian saw his file, he'd realize there were no horrifying details in it, and he wouldn't care that CDA had it. He would then continue on with his auction. Or would he?

Ian glanced at her, and in spite of his set face, Sam saw the question in his eyes. She tensed.

She wished she could reveal that he didn't have to worry about his file. He had every right to cover up his horrific past. She wet her lips. “I told you. I haven't read it.”

He faced Nick. “Are ye tired of driving a Ford, Forrester?”

Nick raised his eyebrows.

“I'll give ye one hundred thousand cash fer a copy.” Ian smiled.

“Only a hundred thousand? I can't be bought, Maclean. And I like used cars, by the way. I like Fords. It's patriotic. I've never wanted a Ferrari.”

“All men want Ferraris. Two hundred thousand dollars fer a copy.”

Nick shook his head. “We need the page, Maclean. We need it so the bad guys can't have the power.”

Sam wanted to tell Nick to give him a damn copy of his file, and that was not professional of her.

“Name yer price,” Ian snarled.

“The page,” Nick said.

Ian laughed at him. “The page is worth hundreds of millions of dollars—to the right demon!” He gave Sam a cold look as if she'd betrayed him somehow, then whirled and slammed from the room.

Sam fought for control. It took a moment. “That went really well,” she said sarcastically. But what she wanted to do was to run after Ian and tell him that his secrets were mostly safe. He'd been desperate for just a copy of his file—he was desperate to know what everyone knew about him. And she felt for him. What was wrong with her?

Because he was probably going to make a point of selling the page of illusion to evil now.

Nick strode to his window, stared down at Hudson Street and cursed, a long string of mostly unrepeatable epithets.

Jan touched his arm. “I can break him, Nick. Without sleeping with him. He doesn't have one drop of evil in him. His father is a Master of Time. Let me try.”

Sam went still.

“Go after him,” Nick told Jan tersely. “Do what you think best.”

Sam shook with outrage. She took a deep breath and managed not to change her expression. Jan hurried out, but not before she looked at Sam and said, “This is business.”

“Right,” Sam said. She turned to Nick, trying not to explode.

“What are you, smitten?” he asked. “Maclean has scars that will never heal. And that makes him a renegade.”

Sam shook her head, too angry to speak, and she strode out of his office. Jan was with Ian as he waited for the elevator. He was still flushed. Tension rippled through his body.

Ian jerked away from her when he saw Sam. He strode toward her, his eyes ablaze. “Don't ever defend me again. I don't need yer help.”

“Okay,” she said, to placate him.

“I don't need yer pity, either. The past is the past,” he snarled. “I forgot it long ago.”

Like hell, she thought. “I don't pity you, Maclean. And I'm sorry I happen to think you shouldn't have gone through what you did, but then, I'm human. But hey, I will mind my own business from now on—except, of course, in regards to the page of illusion, because it's my fault that you have it and it's up to me to get it back.”

Behind them, the elevator door opened. He jerked his collar open, so hard that the fabric ripped. “Then we're enemies now,” he said.

G
ERARD OPENED THE FRONT
door and his brows lifted with surprise when he saw her.

Sam smiled at him. It was half past six and she was due at Hemmer's at seven, but she hadn't heard from Ian since he'd stormed out of Nick's office at HCU. She was pretty sure their date with Rupert Hemmer was off. She couldn't let that happen—and not just because of the DVD.

She was fairly certain he was with Jan, or making plans with her, because Jan sank her teeth into quarry like a terrier did a meaty bone. She wouldn't let Jan work him.

The afternoon's meeting at HCU had left her with an almost sick feeling. It was unease, she supposed. Damn it. She hated his involvement with Jan but even more, she hated his distress. Nick should let him have the damn file, even though she knew it wasn't rational of her to think so.

“Hey, Gerard, how are you today?” Sam was sorry she'd been so rude to Gerard when they'd met in Scotland. If he'd been with Maclean for years, as he claimed, he must have some attachment to his job and, possibly, to his boss. She knew Maclean had no friends—because she knew about his past—and she was glad he had his butler. It was better than nothing at all.

Of course, he had his father. But Ian had walked away from his family as well as everything else. Why?

Apparently, Ian belonged in the past, not in modern-day New York City or Scotland. That idea made Sam uneasy.

If that were true, it meant that if he came to his senses one day, he'd go back. His father would be there, as would be Brie, and even Tabby. Sam was aware of missing her sister as much as ever. She knew she had to get over it. Somehow, she'd go back to see her sooner, rather than later.

Sam sighed. Control seemed to have been banished from her dictionary recently, and she really liked control. But it didn't matter. Her current job was rescuing Maclean from Jan's clutches, getting him over to Hemmer's to play out what Hemmer had begun and going back into that vault. And getting the page out of Maclean's clutches remained at the top of her priority list. However, after his encounter with Nick, she wasn't sure how she was going to accomplish that.

Whatever was going to happen next, she was certain it would surprise her.

“His lordship did not mention that you were calling,” Gerard said, his brows still slightly elevated. He was clearly cool to her.

“His lordship probably forgot that we have a hot date with the dark side.”

Gerard's expression became peculiar. Sam wondered if it was her reference to evil that had disturbed him. Gerard definitely knew a lot more about life than your average mortal.

Of course, Gerard might be discomfited because Ian was entertaining Jan. He seemed classy enough to get bent out of shape over such a trivial detail. Her purse, containing the DVD, almost burned her hand. “Don't worry,” she told him, still smiling. “Old habits die hard. I'm a party crasher, remember? And trust me, when we're done with this evening, he won't mind the interruption, not one bit.” The DVD might become her weapon of choice. A gal never knew when a sex tape might become handy. It might
not matter if he'd already seen it, either. But she'd started to think that if he had, he'd have been the one to throw it in her face.

“Do come in, Ms. Rose,” he said tersely.

“Aw, c'mon, Gerard. Surely this isn't the first time Maclean has had a little party with more than one lady? You must be used to his bad-boy habits by now.” But her sarcasm felt forced. Guys who spent most of their lives as captives would not know how to have relationships. They'd only know the basics—like having sex—and that seemed to be Maclean.

“His lordship is not in his usual temper today,” Gerard said. “And unlike you, his other caller was expected. He did not mention he would be going out for the evening.”

Jan had worked him, and it rankled. She dismissed that. “Let me guess. His other caller is blond, buxom and that
new
forty? And her name is Jan ‘Barbie' Bentley?”

“A Ms. Bentley is present, Ms. Rose. You may wait in the green room,” he said. “I will tell his lordship you are here.”

Gerard left. Sam breathed hard, almost dismayed. She reminded herself that she didn't care if Maclean came on to Barbie, not to mention that Jan would never put out. But no one was going to cut her out of the evening or move in on her gig. To hell with Nick. She was going to be the batter with the big home run—she was going to bring home the page.

However, as much as Sam hated to admit it, underestimating Jan was a bad idea. This was not a high-school competition. This was a job. But it almost felt like some foolish rivalry.

For the first time in years, Sam felt her confidence waver. In a way, Jan was like Tabby. She was a naturally kind person. Sam could pretend that she wasn't, but it was a lie. And that was why men went ga-ga over her. The soft
smile and kind eyes were real. She was every man's dream and she wanted to be your dearest friend, too. It sucked, but that was the truth. Ian was probably drooling all over her right now. He would not be immune to the package of lush looks and an ultra-feminine, super kind heart.

Sam was proud of being a soldier. Her duty as a Slayer defined who she was, just as it defined her life. Plenty of women could be nurturing, few could do what she did. Still, she hated the idea of Ian falling under Jan's “I Am Woman” spell. It even worried her.

Sam shook off her sudden doubts. She'd take care of Jan, ASAP, one way or another. Sam glanced at herself in the gilded mirror on one wall. She was wearing a very tiny teal dress with spaghetti straps. It barely came to midthigh and it was jersey, so it clung to her breasts, torso, hips and thighs. The hefty gauze wrapping on her ribs had been replaced with a wide bandage. Not the doctor's orders, but to hell with that. She wore silver python stiletto sandals. Unlike Jan, she wore one coat of mascara and lip gloss—she did not need to mask her face to make it look better. She'd stopped traffic while hailing a cab earlier. Three Wall Street types had fought over the privilege of finding a cab for her during rush hour. A chubby married man had actually given her his cab, blushing like Santa Claus. But that might have been a surge in his blood pressure.

Her confidence back, she went down the hall after Gerard.

Gerard was in a large gold and white living room, not far from the pair of carved doors, announcing her. Sam walked past him.

Ian was standing there, at once Armani perfect and Hugo Boss sexy. He looked at her coldly.

Okay, he was still angry because she'd thrown him a pity party. Sam saw that Jan sat on an ivory brocade sofa, in an orange dress, legs crossed, her gaze watchful, an un
touched glass of white wine before her. “Hot date?” Sam mocked. “Because it sure looks rocking.”

Jan rolled her eyes. “Ian invited me over for a drink. I made it clear I would continue the earlier conversation.”

“Gee, which conversation was that? The I'm your go-to gal one, or the let's-screw-him-over one? I hope I'm not intruding.” She turned back to Ian and caught him looking at her legs. His expression hadn't eased.

Jan said, “I was trying to explain our position to him.”

Sam looked Ian in the eye and did not turn to Jan. “And what position is that? The missionary one?”

Jan sighed. It was too bad that orange was a great color on her. “We're in a dangerous war. Ian is not evil. Nick was too hard on him. I'm concerned. I want to help.”

“Of course you do.” Sam looked at Ian. “Please don't tell me you're falling for the good cop, bad cop routine?”

“Why would I mind talking with a beautiful woman?” He stared coldly at her.

“Because you don't like talking?”

“Ye talk all the time.”

“Yeah, and it pisses you off.” Sam turned to Jan. “Have you pissed him off yet, or do you have a free pass?”

“I am not abrasive, unlike some people. I happen to believe in talking. It's called making a deal, by the way—not foreplay.”

“I'll take the foreplay. And so will Ian, by the way. So good luck—you'll need it.” Sam said flatly. Then she turned her back on Jan. “Am I right, Maclean?”

Ian's face tightened. He looked down at her supershort dress again. “Ye still plan on going to Hemmer's? Or did ye dress fer me?”

“I'm going to Hemmer's. How could I refuse that invite?”

He darkened.

“What's wrong? Is my coworker boring you? I really
don't want to interrupt your rational, sex-free discussion. Maybe I should go. I didn't realize our little sex date was off,” she lied.

He grasped her arm. “Ye won't go to Hemmer's alone.”

“Why not? I can certainly provide enough entertainment without you. I'm sure he'll tape it. If you're nice to him, maybe he'll even make you a copy.” He was still angry, she thought. She couldn't believe it, but she wouldn't mind seeing his old arrogant, oversexed self again.

“Why do ye care so much about the evil in the vault? Why not just leave it be?”

“It's my nature, Maclean, like it's your nature to have Jan over for a drink. She won't make you happy tonight, Maclean.”

He suddenly pulled her close. “But ye will?”

Sam met his hard, intense gaze. His tense, muscular body quivered against hers in that way she really liked. “I've been thinking about it,” she said softly. “I've been thinking about two hundred million dollars' worth of sex.”

He slowly smiled. “Maybe I've let ye think about it fer too long.”

“A challenge,” she murmured. “I love challenges. Maybe you have.” She was hollow inside. His lust was all mixed up with the anger and the fear—she somehow knew it—and it was raging.

She knew where that rage could go.

Really, really deep inside.

“So come to Hemmer's with me so we can play,” she murmured.

“I'm in no mood to be teased tonight,” he warned.

She did not look away from him. “Then why is she on your sofa?”

“Challenges,” he shrugged. He whispered, “I'd never let ye go to Hemmer's alone.”

Her heart soared. Sam was acutely aware of his hard body against hers now, throbbing. “I didn't think so.”

For one moment, his gaze became searching. He released her. “Some fear would serve ye well, Sam. So would caution.”

Sam laughed softly. “From one reckless soul to another.” She grinned at Jan. “So have you two reached an
understanding?
Got the position all mapped out? I mean, all laid out?” She was aware of his hard hip, his hand still on her waist.

Jan stood, clearly annoyed. “In a way, we have. We're going to finish our drinks, Sam. Privately. He was much calmer and more reasonable until you showed up. Your evening at Hemmer's can be postponed.”

Like hell, Sam thought. She opened her purse. Ian watched her like a hawk as she handed him the DVD. “I think she's kicking me out.”

“What's that?” he asked warily, staring at the DVD before looking up at her.

She knew in that moment he hadn't seen it. She was triumphant. “Oh, something you might like—a lot. I'd check it before you go to bed. Hell, maybe you can watch it with her over that white wine. Meanwhile, I am really late. Why don't you come over when you're done with her?” She turned to leave.

But he caught her arm again, jerking her back against his stiff body. His gaze was narrow with speculation now. Behind them, Jan said, “What are you up to, Sam?”

“Oh, I'm pretty good at providing entertainment. Call it negotiating, call it foreplay, hey, call it sealing the deal, if you want.”

“What's on the DVD?” Jan asked carefully.

“It was a gift,” Sam said softly. She looked at Ian. Desire sizzled between them. “From our favorite bad guy.”

His eyes widened. Then he let her go and strode across the living room with the DVD in hand. Sam saw a laptop
sitting on an antique desk. Her body was humming and hot. The aching had begun some time ago, maybe way back when they'd first met in Oban. It was explosive now.

Jan followed Ian across the room, her expression distasteful. She gave Sam a dark look as she passed her, clearly not trusting her.

Sam tried not to laugh. “What are you, his shadow?”

“If I understood you, the DVD is from Hemmer,” Jan said. “Have you mentioned it to Nick?”

“Not really,” Sam murmured as Ian sat down at the desk.

Jan walked over to him and said, “You should be careful.” She glanced up at Sam. “Why do I have the feeling that this is a trap?”

“I was given the DVD, Jan. It wasn't my idea.”

Ian slid the DVD into the drive. “She can trap me any time.”

Jan said, “I hope your jealousy hasn't shredded the last of what used to be your good judgment.”

Sam couldn't help smiling. “Yeah, and pigs can fly like his taxicab did yesterday. I am so not jealous.” She wasn't exactly certain about how Jan would react to the tape, but she hoped she'd be embarrassed—no, mortified.