Damien needed a thief. He even knew a thief, but had no idea where she was or how to find her. What he needed was a trap. The ethereal creature he'd met and blackmailed into a weekend of decadence eight years ago may have fled his life, but not his mind. She was nothing like his usual victims. She was unlike any woman he had ever known and just the thought of her made him burn.

Zarina read the news with a sense of amusement. She had no doubt she was being summoned. Damien Maxwell had taught her what it was to be a woman to a man and she was grateful for that. Oh, he was bitter and capable of hatred, but he was also capable of gentleness. Had time changed him at all? In truth, she hoped not. Whatever it was that existed between them was powerful and undeniable. He obviously needed her and she was willing to do what he needed. To a point.

Little had changed between them when it came to the physical, but that only increased Damien's confusion. Zarina was not a weak woman. She was not a submissive woman. She was a fascinating, complex bundle of contradictions. As she set about reclaiming the missing Maxwell swords, he came to realize that wasn't the only thing she was stealing. Bit by bit and piece by piece, she was stealing his heart.

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