“I doubt you care what anyone in any room thinks of you,” he countered.

“Don’t condescend, Mr. Wayne,” she replied. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“Well, Selina Kyle, I know you came here from your walk-up in Old Town. Modest place for a master jewel thief. Which means either you’re saving for retirement—or you’re in deep with the wrong people.”

It was the only plausible explanation for why such a high-end burglar—who had already scored big several times over—was slumming in Old Town. She had to be trying to stay off someone’s radar, even if this gala—and Mrs. Gladstone’s jewels—had lured her out of hiding.

She frowned at that.

“You don’t get to judge me because you were born in the master bedroom of Wayne Manor.”

“Actually, it was the Regency Room.”

“I started off doing what I had to do,” she said unapologetically. Then a hint of regret entered her voice. “But once you’ve done what you had to, they’ll never let you do what you want to.”

“Start fresh?” he guessed.

She laughed bitterly.

“There’s no fresh start in today’s world. Any twelve-year-old with a cell phone could find out what you did. Everything we do is collated and quantified. Everything sticks. We are the sum of our mistakes.”

“Or our achievements,” he argued.

“The mistakes stick better. Trust me.”

Bruce knew all about mistakes…and regrets. He eyed the pearls around her neck.

“You think that justifies stealing?”

“I take what I need from those who have more than enough,” she said, a tad defensively. “I don’t stand on the shoulders of people with less.”

“Robin Hood?” He couldn’t quite imagine her in forest green. Black suited her better.

“I’d do more to help someone than most of the people in this room,” she insisted. “Including you.”

“Maybe you’re assuming too much,” he said.

“Or maybe you’re being unrealistic about what’s really in your pants other than a fat wallet.”

“Ouch.”

Still gliding in his arms, she glanced around at the ostentatious display of wealth and extravagance.

“You think all this can last?” She shook her head dubiously. “There’s a storm coming, Mr. Wayne. You and your friends better batten down the hatches, because when it hits you’re all going to wonder how you ever thought you could live so large…and leave so little for the rest of us.”

“Sounds like you’re looking forward to it,” he said.

“I’m adaptable,” she promised.

But maybe not for much longer, Bruce thought. He recalled the damning accumulation of tips and clues filling her files. The net was closing in on her, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Small wonder she yearned for a fresh start.

“Those pearls look better on you than they did in my safe.” He rolled her into his shoulder and reached up to unclasp the necklace. “But I still can’t let you keep them.”

The pearls slid off her neck into his other hand. She glared at him again, then surprised him by lunging forward and kissing him hard. Breathless, he let her slip away into the crowd. By the time he recovered from the kiss, she already had a decent head start on him. He tried to limp after her, but his bad knee slowed him down.