Page 3 of Dark Lover

Sam worked really hard to keep her facial muscles frozen.

“Give it up,” he said. “You want Lover Boy, and we both know it.”

NOT ONLY DIDN’T SHE want Maclean, she couldn’t stand him. Sam followed Nick down the hall and into his office, aware of a new tension riddling her body and the fact that her fists were clenched. Instantly she loosened them. The only thing she wanted in regards to Maclean was payback. Because he was a son of a bitch.

“Take off the dress.”

She seethed, standing with him in a fancy salon in his fancy Scottish mansion. “You are an unbelievable bastard.”

He laughed. “I’ve heard it a thousand times. What’s wrong? Are ye afraid of the bright lights?”

She didn’t have a drop of cellulite on her body. Sam lifted the spaghetti straps of her silk dress and let it pool at her feet. “Take a good, long look—because it’s your last one.”

Oh, had he looked.

Last December, she’d gone to Loch Awe to bargain with Ian Maclean. He was Aidan of Awe’s son, and as such, he had all kinds of extraordinary powers—including the power to leap through time. She had needed a way to find her sister, shortly after a Highlander had appeared in New York and taken Tabby back in time with him. But the moment she’d walked into Maclean’s ancient mansion, his every innuendo had been sexual. She had expected it.

The first time she’d met him, she’d been with Brie, who’d needed his help. She’d pegged him then as an arrogant, oversexed playboy. She hadn’t been wrong. He was wealthy, mouthwateringly sexy, and powerful—and he knew it. That day, they’d met for no more than five minutes, but he’d looked at her like he couldn’t wait to rip off her clothes and do just about everything sexual a man could do to a woman.

But he’d left her standing on the street corner, alone, taking Brie back in time without her. Sam did not like being left out of the real action, and she had been furious.

When Tabby had vanished into time with Guy Macleod, she’d been determined to go after her. So she had gone to Scotland prepared to offer Maclean a deal—but not her body. She wasn’t going to be one of a hundred women he used. She’d be the one to say yes or no. But he’d turned the encounter into another sexual contest. When she’d met his challenge and dropped the dress, he’d looked at every inch of her body with an arrogant certainty—as if he knew he’d win one day. As if he could wait. As if she couldn’t. And then he’d walked out on her.

He had walked out on her.

Not only that, he’d left her standing stark naked in his salon, the doors wide open, and all of his guests had seen her.

It was hard not to spit with rage, even now. Men did not walk out on her. Men drooled over her body, most of which was muscle. Men gaped when they saw her face, with her long-lashed blue eyes, her small straight nose, the high cheekbones and strong jaw. But Maclean had been mocking. Who did he think he was?

Sam believed in payback. She held her grudges for life.

This was war—even if he was one of the good guys—and she was going to win.

But although his power was huge and white, and he was Aidan of Awe’s son, his loyalties were not clear. Sam did know one thing. He was most definitely loyal to himself.

She was very doubtful that he was a part of the Brotherhood. He was too selfish.

“Why is he on Hemmer’s guest list?”

Nick shoved a fat file at her. “Happy reading.”

Sam started. “He’s on file.”

“You know Big Mama,” Nick said, referring to the agency’s supercomputer. “Maclean is on the ADR list.”

That was automatic data retrieval. When Big Mama flagged a person deemed corruptible, she automatically began to build a file, retrieving data from all possible sources at a set time every day. Because Ian was Aidan of Awe’s son, and Aidan had turned to evil for decades before being redeemed, he would have been flagged immediately. His status as corruptible could only be changed by an administrator.

“Are you going to admit you’re ready to pull that short, spiky mess out by its roots?” Nick was somewhat amused.

“I don’t pull hair and you know it. I’m thinking of using my Frisbee,” she said. That toy had teeth that could sever a man’s head from his body with a gentle toss, much less anything else she might want to sever.

“You’re not doing a good job of guarding your thoughts,” Nick commented, sitting down on the edge of his desk. “And I hate to tell you, kid, you put your hand between his legs and he isn’t going to quiver with fear.” Nick started laughing.

Sam tensed, hoping he hadn’t had a visual of her standing naked in Maclean’s fancy Highland salon. “If I ever put my hand there, he’s going to be really, really sorry,” Sam snapped.

Nick’s amusement vanished and he folded his arms across his chest. His biceps bulged beneath the sleeves of his dark T-shirt. “I have never seen you so pissed off.”

“Guess I’m mostly human,” she quipped.