Page 51 of Dark Lover

Sam wondered if a person rescued from the effects of such power would wind up frost-bitten and ice-burned. Nick didn’t know. Neither one of them wanted to find out.

It wasn’t hard to believe that such a power could exist. The question was, had the power survived the ages?

The Masters of Time believed in the Duisean, and she did, too. In fact, the Book of Roses had mentioned other great books, other dynasties and secret sects, all dedicated to the preservation of mankind in different parts of the world and other times, all with various magic and powers. The war between good and evil was as old as time. The Celtic gods had given the Duisean to the Masters centuries ago, well before Christ, when their godly powers had been strongest. In those early days, magic had abounded. The gods had frequently shown themselves to mankind.

In medieval times, not only were the Masters powerful, the gods were fairly active still, even if most of the medieval world didn’t know it. The page had surely had immense power then. But near-immortals like the Masters were becoming rarer and rarer, even as evil was exploding in population and power. There was less magic in the world now than there used to be. The question was, did the page of illusion still have the same power? She’d asked Nick.

“Who knows? Can we take the chance that it does not?”

Point made, she thought, walking down the hall. If the power of virtual control existed, the U.S. government had to obtain it and keep it out of the wrong hands. As she thought about that, the elevator opened. Before Maclean even stepped out, she felt his hot male energy and his otherworldly power. Their gazes locked as he paused in the hall. He slowly smiled at her.

He wore a black polo shirt, his gold watch and those almost tight jeans. He wore a hammered Celtic cross on a leather cord. He looked confident, L.A. casual, old-world wealthy and drop-dead sexy. She thought about the DVD, when he’d looked even sexier, and had been confident as all hell about what he was doing.

Last night, he’d been furious when he’d learned about the file. When he’d called her later, when he’d somehow been spying on her from across town with his mind, he’d been in a sexy, seductive mood. It took her half a second to know his mood was good now. Lazy, interested, and as always, hot…

She really wanted to show him that DVD. She couldn’t imagine his reaction. “Good as my word,” she murmured.

“I never doubted you’d set up the meeting,” he returned. “Did ye rest at all last night?”

“I was watching a movie,” she said with meaning.

His gaze sharpened.

Suddenly Sam realized he wasn’t in her mind. She just knew he was trying to figure out what she was thinking. “What’s wrong? Not running on all cylinders today?”

“I’m distracted,” he said, nodding at the supershort hem of her frayed skirt.

“You’re always distracted. It’s never stopped you before.” As she spoke, she realized he might be putting on a front. In another moment, he’d be going head to head with Nick over the file. And that file meant everything to him. He was hiding behind his sexuality, using it as a distraction.

“Nothing stops me when I’m after something I really want,” he murmured, pausing beside her. “Yer eye looks better.” He touched her cheekbone.

Sam simply looked at him. Her body was hot. Everything was racing. His finger felt amazing on her skin—and it was only on her cheek. Tonight they were going to Hemmer’s. She could use Hemmer’s sick invitation as an excuse to get what she really wanted—Maclean.

He had to know what she was thinking, because his eyes smoldered.

And then she heard high heels clicking. She tensed, the sound too familiar. Jan was approaching. Sam shifted to turn, and she saw Ian’s eyes widen. Then he smiled, pleased, looking her up and down.

“Ian Maclean?” Jan asked softly. “I’m Nick’s assistant, Jan Bentley.” She held out her hand. “If you have any dealings here at HCU, I’m your go-to gal.”

“How lucky fer me.”

Sam said tersely, “Yes, how lucky, you get to be another idiot panting in the long line below her pedestal, waiting to get invited into Saint Jan’s bed.”

He’d been looking at Jan’s long legs. He met Sam’s gaze, and seemed to be laughing at her. “I beg yer pardon?”

“Do line up,” Sam said in disgust. There’d been no mistaking his interest.

“Sometimes I think you’re thirteen, not just shy of thirty,” Jan said. “Is this high school?”

“It can’t be—you’re forty,” Sam snapped. “It’s your super lucky day, Maclean. She’s now my partner. We can do a threesome at Hemmer’s tonight.”

Ian choked, possibly in laughter.

Jan said sharply, “What are you talking about?”

“We’re going to a party. But you can bow out. Feel free.” Aware she shouldn’t be showing just how pissed she was, and also aware she shouldn’t be so livid, Sam stalked ahead of them to Nick’s office. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was jealous of Maclean’s typical male interest. But jealousy was another word that was not in her vocabulary. Then she halted and faced them. “Jan isn’t into parties, Maclean. She’s a good girl.”

Ian laughed out loud.