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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  512 Forest Lake Drive

  Warner Robins, Georgia 31093

  Thief of Hearts

  Copyright © 2007 by J.C. Wilder

  Cover by Anne Cain

  ISBN: 1-59998-490-3

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2007

  Thief of Hearts

  J.C. Wilder

  Dedication

  To Crissy and Jessica, two ladies of style, wit and infinite patience—love you!

  Chapter One

  Year 2024

  Death was too good for Dennis McRae.

  Harper landed on the stone balcony with a soft scrape of shoe leather and a gentle exhale. Her gloved fingers grasped the carabineer clip and she released her climbing harness from the nylon rope. She’d used the contraption to leap from one balcony to the next in the hopes of avoiding a painful landing on the gravel garden path two stories below. She glanced over the rail and her gut clenched. She hated heights, which, considering her profession was pretty amusing.

  She removed the harness and carefully tucked it behind a planter where it wouldn’t be found until she was long gone.

  The biggest problem with Dennis was that he was her stepbrother so killing him, while a pleasant thought, was out of the question. Not only would it really piss her father off, not that she considered his anger a serious consequence, but her stepmother loved her son. There were times Harper doubted the woman’s sanity. Her son was evil on two feet and her father was the meanest son of a bitch she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting.

  What had that poor woman done to deserve such men in her life?

  Crouching before the double doors, she was a slim shadow among the shadows. The night air was cool against her flushed face. Tonight was the perfect night for a second story job. Clouds obscured the fat moon and the weather was temperate. She grinned when she remembered her last job had been in the mountains of Colorado during a blizzard. It had taken her the better part of an hour to gain entry to the house and another twenty minutes to warm up enough so that her fingers could work the safe. By comparison, tonight’s assignment would be an easy job.

  She eyed the expensive electronic door lock and her lip curled. This mechanism, while pricey, wasn’t enough to keep a determined thief out of a cowshed let alone a multi-million dollar house such as this. She opened her miniscule evening purse and removed a slim leather wallet.

  Lock-pick tools were a well-dressed girl’s best friend.

  Extracting a wire pick, tension wrench and a credit card-sized frequency scrambler, she set to work on the lock. It was lucky for her that Ross “Blackie” Ryan, the homeowner, was hosting a party for his fourth wedding anniversary to the sour-faced Mrs. Ryan, the source of his current wealth. The lavish event coupled with an engraved invitation had enabled Harper to gain entry to the house and the grounds. Only the family wing and Blackie’s private offices were off limits to the partygoers. She smiled. Of course this was the one place she intended to infiltrate.

  Her research, which had included a fair number of sizeable bribes, had revealed that the extensive alarm system protecting both the house and grounds had been disabled for the duration of the party. This meant Blackie’s office safe and its contents were vulnerable to her clever fingers.

  The frequency scrambler disabled the electronic signal on the lock turning the tiny light on the card from red to green. With the aid of her lock pick and wrench, the well-oiled tumblers glided together then released with an almost female sigh of surrender. Harper enjoyed the surge of triumph when the door opened a few millimeters. Cracking a safe or opening a locked door was more satisfying than just about anything she’d ever experienced in her professional life. Both skills were hard-earned and she was quite proud of her prowess. In the burglary business, she’d been known as Houdini as there wasn’t a lock yet invented that could keep her out.

  She returned the tools to their case then tucked it into her purse. Rising, she slipped into the office before closing the door behind her. She took a moment to draw the heavy drapes so the illumination from her laser light wouldn’t be seen from the outside. She produced the slim light from her purse and turned it on.

  The office was definitely a man’s domain with rich, dark wood and walls painted burgundy. Floor to ceiling shelves covered the far wall though the leather-bound books looked as if they’d never been opened. Her lip curled. Buying books as a decoration was pretentious in her opinion. Books were the doorways to magical worlds and they should be read and savored, not used as an accessory to a tastefully decorated room. She was struck with the sudden urge to liberate them.

  A broad fireplace occupied the far end of the room and a neat stack of real logs was arranged in a brass bin. Her brow arched. Maybe Blackie was richer than she’d realized, as trees were in short supply thanks to rampant home building in the early years of the century. At one end of the room, arranged before the fireplace, was a comfortable grouping of leather chairs and a low-slung couch.

  Her nose wrinkled. Definitely old-fashioned.

  At the opposite end of the office was a broad desk. No doubt the imposing piece of furniture and Blackie’s overbearing presence had cowed many a subordinate as they sat in one of the two wing chairs situated before it. Was it in this very room that Dennis had learned his balls were in a noose?

  Probably. Blackie would enjoy destroying a man’s life all the while sitting in the lap of luxury surrounded by his security team, Cuban cigars and his imported, hand-carved desk. She walked toward it, sweeping the light around to survey the area.

  Now, if I were a gutless, spineless blackmailer, where would I keep the evidence?

  Sliding the slim light behind one ear, she began a methodic search of the desk drawers. Mentally damning both Dennis and Blackie, whom she called “The Prick” when in private, she focused on her task.

  In her opinion both men would get whatever they’d deserved without anyone having to lift a finger. Her stepbrother, the up-and-coming politician, for screwing around on his wife and Blackie for being the crooked, unscrupulous bastard he was. Harper had tried to warn Dennis when he’d made friends with the mobster more than a year ago but the lure of needed campaign funds had been too hard to resist.

  Her lips firmed. Dennis also had a bit of a gambling problem he was desperate to hide. The biggest mistake her stepbrother had made was to allow Blackie to unearth this little fact. It hadn’t helped that The Prick had his finger in the gambling pie as well as neo-synthetic drugs, prostitution and blackmail.

  She shut the center drawer then moved to the next one.

  Her stepmother didn’t know about her offspring’s potentially career-limiting shortcomings. If Blackie did as he’d threatened, not only would Marianna be shunned from the society life she adored, she’d be thoroughly humiliated. The woman might be shallow but she had a good heart, when she remembered she had one at all.

  She reached for the final drawer.

  Harper was pretty sure that Dennis didn’t have a clue as to her former occupation anymore than anyone else in the family, all he kne
w was that she knew people. She was a woman who could get things done, especially when the task in question involved the wrong side of the law. Her family overlooked that little tidbit as her connections could be handy in times of need. Dennis certainly had no clue that when he’d come to her with his perfidy, she’d be the one sneaking around Blackie’s office cleaning up the mess.

  She eased the drawer shut.

  Nada.

  Harper had come out of her self-imposed retirement to perform this one last job and steal back the evidence the mobster had against Dennis. After this, her stepbrother and the rest of her family were on their own.

  She rose from her crouched position, her gaze focused on a painting on the wall behind the desk. Most people didn’t realize how obvious it was to place a safe behind a painting. Not only was it portrayed in every movie on the planet, it simply wasn’t a viable option if one wished to keep its location a secret. It took space to hide a wall safe and the average thickness of a wall simply wouldn’t accommodate most safes. Alterations would have to be made and any accomplished thief would obtain the blueprints to a house before ever setting foot on the property.

  Needless to say she’d had the blueprints within six hours of making the decision to break into the house as she was a very proficient thief.

  Harper moved her fingers along the bottom of the ornate frame until she’d located a small metal piece. She pushed against it and the painting swung toward her.

  Bingo.

  Her chest grew tight with excitement when the safe was revealed. It was top of the line but it was an older model, probably came with the house. She smirked. It might have been one of the best in the late twentieth century but it didn’t stand a chance of keeping its secrets from her.

  There were very few things as dangerous as a resourceful, determined woman.

  Harper withdrew a small bundle from her cleavage. Her trusty listening device, much like a stethoscope, felt like an old friend in her hand. Unwrapping the wires, she slid the tiny earpiece in her ear then placed the other end against the safe directly over where the tumblers were located. Flexing her fingers, she leaned forward and began working the lock.

  With her whole being focused on her work, the only sounds that registered were her breathing and the soft clicks in her ear as she turned the dial. To her, cracking a safe was as familiar as putting on makeup or easing into a much-loved pair of blue jeans. She grimaced when she turned the dial too far and had to start over again. She was rusty and she knew it. Back in her prime she could’ve opened a safe such as this in just under two minutes. She glanced at her watch.

  Four minutes so far.

  She licked her lips, her gaze focused on the dial.

  Click, click, click, tick…

  Her heart stopped when the final tumbler clicked into place. Holding her breath, she opened the door with a soft snick. Inside were a neat stack of envelopes, several leather-bound ledgers and an impressive tower of velvet jewelry boxes. She bit her lip as her gaze danced over the collection of items. Knowing Blackie he probably had several million in jewels stashed in this one safe.

  It really was too bad she was retired.

  Chase couldn’t believe his eyes or his luck when he’d spied the figure on the second-story balcony. It had to be Harper as he’d recognize her mouthwatering ass anywhere. He dropped his slim cigar to the floor then ground it out with his heel. No other second-story pro would have the balls to break into a house while the owners, one hundred and fifty party guests and a legion of security guards were in residence. His gaze skimmed the shadowy figure. And to top it all off she was wearing a sexy evening dress guaranteed to slay a man with one glance at those neck-to-floor legs of hers.

  How well he remembered those legs.

  Chase held his breath when she opened the French doors and slipped into the office. It would appear that the beautiful thief was going to do all the hard work for him this evening.

  With the grace of a ballet dancer, he climbed onto the balcony rail of the guest suite and made the leap to the office balcony. His gloved hands connected with the railing and he pulled himself up with ease.

  He was pleased to see Harper still had the same, deft touch with locks that she’d been known for. Houdini had been a legend in second-story work though he’d heard she’d retired more than a year ago. He dropped to a crouch before the doors to peer inside through a narrow slit in the drapes. It would seem the stories of her retirement had been greatly exaggerated.

  His former lover stood over the desk with a laser light tucked behind her ear as she searched the drawers. Her movements were economical, swift yet efficient. She moved through each drawer, her search thorough, yet she took great care to not disturb the contents of the desk.

  What was she looking for?

  Her task completed, she rose and her gloved hands were empty. She stood for a moment, her gaze fixed on a painting behind the desk. She slid her fingers along the bottom of the frame, it swung to the side to reveal a safe.

  Now, that’s what I’m talking about.

  She was hard at work on the safe when Chase reached for the door handle. Rising, he held his breath as he slipped into the room, counting on the fact she’d be too immersed in opening the safe to notice his arrival.

  It wasn’t hard to detect the differences between the Harper he’d known and the woman standing before him. In the past she could’ve opened this safe in a matter of moments and that was with her eyes closed. Now, she labored over the task like a master painter would over his latest work.

  In their line of business, being slow increased the chances of getting caught and she’d definitely been caught this time.

  He slipped out from behind the curtains, his gaze still focused on the beautiful thief. Her posture was tense though she seemed to be completely unaware of his presence. In the past he’d never have managed to sneak up on her. It seemed Harper had been in retirement just long enough to lose her edge.

  Lucky him.

  If it were possible, she’d grown more beautiful in the past five years. Her black hair was contained in a complicated twist on the back of her head leaving the length of her slim neck exposed. He’d always loved that part of her anatomy. There was something undeniably erotic about the bare curve of a woman’s neck.

  She wore gloves and a long-sleeved black dress that clung to her tight, athletic frame. The skirt was short, ending several inches above her knees, but it was her legs that had his mouth watering. Long, shapely and clad in sheer black stockings, Harper had the most amazing legs and he well remembered the feel of them wrapped around his waist as he’d taken her beneath him. Bemoaning her mere five feet, five inches, she’d always worn stiletto heels and he was quite pleased to see she’d retained that particular habit. His woman hadn’t changed completely—

  His woman.

  His chest went curiously tight. Five years ago she’d thought she’d caught him in a compromising position. Without giving him a chance to explain, she’d packed her bag and walked out of his life. He rubbed his hand over his chest. If she hadn’t come home early that day, if Susan hadn’t come by in the midst of an emotional meltdown, if he hadn’t held her as she’d cried and been more on guard when she’d grabbed his face for a passionate kiss, would he and Harper still be together?

  The safe opened and she made a soft sound of satisfaction. He glanced down at his watch. Seven minutes. Definitely not as good as the old Harper had been, not by a long shot. He crossed his arms over his chest and adopted a careless stance.

  “It’s about time, Harper. My grandmother could’ve opened that safe faster than you and she’s been dead for ten years.”

  Chapter Two

  Chase.

  Harper froze when the familiar voice spoke behind her. Even though it had been years since they’d been in the same room, she’d never forget his deep voice. It had haunted her dreams since the day she’d walked away from him and their relationship.

  Mentally she cursed herself for getting caught on th
e job. It stung to know that for the first time she’d been seen, let alone getting nailed by him. She’d really lost her touch.

  Her heart stuttered and she turned, her gaze sliding over his familiar face. He hadn’t changed much in the past five years. If it was possible he’d grown more handsome. Then again with his Black Irish good looks and charisma, Chase could charm any woman into his bed within minutes of their meeting. It had certainly worked that way on her.

  “Do you mind? You’re blinding me.” His voice carried a slight tang of Ireland, the land of his birth.

  “Mind?” She presented him with her back when she began searching the contents of the safe. “I don’t mind one bit.”

  He chuckled and the sound sent shivers of awareness down her spine. Her nipples tightened and she scowled at a stack of envelopes she held. He’d always had that nerve-tingling effect on her. A few more minutes in his company and she’d be ready to shed her panties and mate with him like an animal.

  “What are you doing here?” She flicked through the envelopes, scanning the neatly printed names on the front.

  “I could ask you the same.”

  “Yeah, well, I asked first.” She made a mental note of the prominent names listed on each envelope. Two senators, a Hollywood actor, three local politicians and a few leading businessmen were among them. She stopped to open the envelope with the actor’s name. Pulling out several glossy photos, her eyes widened when she saw the famous face buried in another man’s crotch as he gave an award-winning performance of another sort.

  My my, Blackie has quite the little side business going on.

  She stuffed the photos into the envelope and continued flipping through the pile until she spied Dennis’s name.

  “It would appear we’re here on the same mission.”

  Chase’s sexy burr sounded close to her shoulder. She shivered and the lace of her bra chafed her sensitive nipples. Damn him for being so sexy and her for being so weak where he was concerned. Her body betrayed her every time and in the end he’d used that weakness to deceive her.