He caught my wrist before my fingers even touched the clasp.
I had spent six weeks planning this hit on the Venetian necklace, forty-two carats of flawless sapphire surrounded by brilliant diamonds worth eight million euros on the open market, and now the Ghost Thief himself had me pinned before I could finish the move.
The ballroom blurred into crystal light and masked faces, but everything snapped into sharp focus on his iron grip and the solid wall of his chest slamming me back against a cold marble pillar.
"Mine," he said. The single word scraped out low and rough, no accent I could pin down, just pure gravel that punched heat straight between my thighs.
I lifted my chin and gave him a slow, sharp smile. "Then take it."
The hostess floated past us on the arm of a minor prince, th
