“Tobias, I’m sorry my circumstances have led you to consider this.”
“I saw the photos of those children, Zara.” He brought his hands up and covered his face. “He’s a monster. I have to bring him down. I know I’m crossing the line here. I’m doing it for you and for those people. Give me this, Zara. Let me leave my mark as Icon in a good way. My Mona Lisa will live for a matter of days and then she’ll be gone from this world, and yet what she’ll leave behind will be remarkable.”
I drew in a sharp breath.
He stepped closer. “I would walk across the world for you if this is what it took to find you peace in your heart.”
I caressed my chest to soothe the uneasiness. “I’ve asked too much of you.”
Wilder’s mouth lingered an inch from mine. “I promised to get your paintings back. Our lives too—”
“I’m grateful for the thought you’ve put into this. I am.” I rested a hand on his chest to persuade him.
“No one will know of her existence. No one. Only Burell. He selfishly ferrets his paintings away. He won’t tell anyone about her.”
“How do you know he wants her?”
“Eli Burell has been on the hunt for the other Mona Lisa for his father. He wants to impress him. Look, the world knows there’s another painting of her out there. Maybe two. Burell’s psychotic over possessing her. She’s his weakness. She’s our in.”
I narrowed my gaze on him. “Have you ever done this before? Faked a painting?”
“No.” He looked offended. “You know me better than that.”
Did I really know this complex and mercurial man with a mind capable of unraveling puzzles and redefining what it was to think outside the box?
“Burell is still looking for us?” I said.
He gave a nod. “He’s not going to stop until the problem is resolved.”
“And we’re the problem.” A slither of fear shivered up my spine.
He shrugged. “So far I’ve managed to outsmart them.”
Silently I swore at him because if outsmarting them meant leaping off buildings his view of success was skewered.
“Are you in, Leighton?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Come up with a better plan, then. You have an hour.”
“What happens in an hour?”
“I begin.”
“I’ll think of something.”
“I look forward to hearing it, but if you fail to think of a realistic concept that will hook Burell without question, I will proceed as planned.”
I raised the cube. “Are you going to tell me what this does?”
“You’re always accusing me of using smoke and mirrors. Like a demo?”
I handed it to him and he placed it on the patio table. “At some point—” he rested the tip of his finger on the cube “—I’ll show you my other arsenal of tricks I have to pull off my plan. Full disclosure.”
“Let’s go to the FBI, please.”
“Are you prepared to lose your paintings forever?”
There had to be another way and I was determined to find it.
I glanced at the cube. “Impress me, then.”
“How about a little of that old Hampshire fog?” He emphasized the last word. “I know how much you love Emily Bronte’s moody atmospheres. This will fit your spirited charm.”
A stream of air hissed from the corner of the cube and I held in my breath at the shock of watching it form a blanket of thick white smoke. “Is it safe?”
He faded from view as a white cloud began to swallow him.
I tried to fathom how all this smokiness was coming out of that little box. Oh, no, I’d carried it into the drawing room near those paintings. Fog billowed around me and I could no longer see him. “Tobias?”
“Zara.” He was behind me.
A thrill spiraled up my spine when I felt his presence. “This shields your escape if you get caught?”
“Very good.”
The nape of my neck tingled. “And you have other gadgets like this?”
“I do.”
“Show me.”
“I’m tempted.” His tone turned husky. “Are you tempted to experience more, Leighton?” His heady cologne mingled with his scent and saturated my senses.
“Yes.” I sounded breathy as I recalled the way he’d seduced me in his bedroom last night and my hand trailed over my chest in expectation. If he touched me I’d be unable to resist him, because my body was on fire for this half-naked version of Tobias. If he held me firmly and spun me round for a kiss and ravaged my mouth like he did my sex last night my skin would liquefy. My entire being was tingling with anticipation of his caress that always morphed into domination. The delicious kind I resisted so I wouldn’t lose my way in him.
You’ve already lost your way in him.
Silence lingered...
My body yearned for his touch, my breasts swelling, nipples tightening, chest rising and falling and making me light-headed as I spun round and swept my hands through the mist, ready to persuade him to see his dark scheming was not going to happen.
He was gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
WITHIN HALF AN HOUR I’d found my way around the cozy kitchen and made toast and scrambled some eggs and brewed fresh coffee. All this fresh produce was proof Wilder had someone working for him. Their discretion and ability to hide from me was uncanny.
Though the kitchen had been modernized, it reflected the spirit of the rest of the house with its white walls, stainless steel appliances and an open-plan design with a couch and sofa in the far corner to add a splash of homeyness.
I placed two settings with the silver cutlery on the granite island for us and found coasters for our drinks. In between these quiet moments of normalcy I tried to think of another way to get Burell to reveal where my paintings were. Though finding them would be the easy part. Getting them would take the kind of skill only one man could pull off.
“Ah, coffee.” Tobias was dressed casually in ripped jeans and a J.Crew sweater and had a black jacket flung casually over his shoulder. He was carrying an iPad. He flung his blazer over the back of one of the armchairs and settled opposite at the central island.
He placed his phone beside his mug and peered at his plate. “This looks nice.” He beamed with happiness.
I loved seeing this side of him. “Is this enough?”
“More than enough. You’re spoiling me.”
“I like doing it.” Taking care of him made me happy and kept my mind busy.
“Did you find everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“I fixed the heating. It should be warmer now.”
“Great.”
“Have you discovered the sitting room? There’s a TV in there and music if you want to relax.”
“Yes, thank you. I didn’t know you like opera.”
“My taste ranges from rock to classic.”
“And of course you know all about mine.” I reached for my knife and fork.
He held my gaze. “You’re referring to your background search that I conducted?”
“I meant you confiscated my phone with all my music.”
“Ah.”
I blew on the surface of my coffee and the liquid rippled. “What I find baffling is you fingerprinted me unknowingly at your home.”
“You touched my door handle.”
“I was a guest.”
“I’d hired you as a consultant. I’m thorough.”
“You don’t let many people in, do you?”
“I practice caution.”
“Control?”
“Think of life as a game of chess. You move the pieces to your liking and if you’re smart you predict the other person’s moves...perhaps avert a disaster.”
“What about the
ir humanity?”
“A person’s true nature always reveals itself.” He sipped his coffee. “Though you’re an enigma.”
“In what way?”
He shook the salt cruet over his eggs. “You refuse to break the rules and yet you’re here with me.”
“I didn’t have much choice.”
He held my stare and his expression marred with confusion as he set the cruet down.
“What I meant was it all happened so fast. I flew off to Arizona and...”
He raised his hands to admit guilt. “I let you down. I have to live with my mistake that put you in harm’s way.”
“I take responsibility for my actions.”
“Which were influenced by mine.”
“You probably wish we’d never met.”
“On the contrary. When I first met you, I found you inspiring. I wanted to protect you.”
“And now?”
“I find myself thinking of you a lot of the time.” He lifted a slice of toast and bit into it and grinned at me. “You’re a living, breathing Titian.”
“Does that line usually work?”
“You know as well as I do Titian favored intelligent subjects whose eyes reflected awareness of their environment.”
“Oh, you’re referring to Titian’s rendition of Salome holding John the Baptist’s head after she betrayed him?” I smirked to show I was joking.
“All of Titian’s subjects reflect consciousness. I don’t believe you’ll betray me, no. If that’s what you’re hinting at.”
Betray him, no, I couldn’t imagine myself ever doing that.
“There are so many times you could have given me up to the authorities, Zara.”
“I suppose.”
“Jade,” Tobias piped up. “Play Requiem by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. In D minor, please. Play it loud.”
I laughed as the dramatic music played through hidden speakers fitting the mood. “Point made, Tobias.”
“Sorry?” he shouted, cupping his hand to hear better.
“Very funny,” I yelled. “Jade, take it down, please.”
Tobias raised his gaze as the music lowered and then focused back on me. “I like having breakfast with you. Usually it’s just me and Jade fighting over the salt.”
That made me smile. “Do you think you’ll ever settle down?”
He paused with his fork close to his mouth.
“That was a stupid question.”
He placed his fork down. “It was a good question. Yes, I want to be with someone who is willing to stand up to me. I’m told I’m intimidating.”
“Bossy.”
“Yes, I admit—”
“Controlling.”
“If I’m in command no one gets hurt.”
“You’re referring to Arizona?”
“I’m referring to anyone who steps inside my stratosphere. Look, all people who do business with me are prescreened. You were no exception so don’t take it personally. All paintings I procure are carefully authenticated. I profiled you carefully for this very purpose. Any plane I board undergoes a preflight check that includes the engine.”
My stare locked on his and he closed his eyes for a beat. I realized his confession revealed the reason for his dominating nature.
Of course; it was so obvious.
“Tobias?” I coaxed him softly.
His gaze roamed the kitchen. “Maybe we could cook in here together one night?”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.” He returned his focus to his iPad.
“Let me call Abby?”
“Not yet.” He kept his gaze on the screen.
“This is hard on me.”
“For that I’m sorry.”
“Perhaps if I was permitted to explain everything?”
He peered up at me. “You already did, Zara. Abby told you they’ve been asked to pull back from Burell. As far as they’re concerned it’s over. You and I have taken the fall. Do you want it to end like this?”
“No.”
“Same here.”
We finished our breakfast in silence with him sweeping across the latest news as he ate his toast and eggs. I poked at my breakfast while watching Mr. Mercurial slip once more into his impenetrable shell. I wanted to say it was the loss of my life that hurt the most, but somewhere among the wreckage also lay what could have been between us. Though if we truly spent time together tonight maybe we’d regain a little of the trust we’d lost.
A phone number lit up the screen of his cell and he took the call and asked questions in between sips of coffee. The subject was about his London office.
From where I sat there was a good view of his iPad set to a news article about Icon. I wondered what he must think to be in the public’s consciousness like this. He seemed indifferent and when his steely gaze rose to meet mine, he quickly swept away the evidence of what he’d been reading.
If my best friend, Clara, had any idea of what had happened to me she’d be worried sick. I needed to reassure her I was safe. I had to get a message to her.
Tobias hung up and set his phone down. “That was my lawyer.”
“Oh?”
He cupped his coffee in his hands. “He’s made a few calls on your behalf. Explained to Adley I hired you to track down a unique piece—”
“Perhaps I should call—”
“Not necessary. Not yet, anyway.” He slipped off the bar stool and came closer, bringing his coffee with him. “Reynard Linde has implemented a stay on a police search of all my properties.”
“Reynard?”
“My senior lawyer. He’s also prevented the police from searching your flat. I’m afraid we can’t stop them from searching your office.”
“They won’t find anything.”
“I’ll do everything I can to protect your privacy. I have a wall between me and whoever wants access to my business. My resources are at your disposal.”
“Aren’t we just holding off the inevitable?”
“Inevitable?”
“I failed to return to work.” I caressed my brow to ease the tension. “I fled the FBI back at The Wilder.”
“As far as I recall the officers walked away from you.”
Ran from me, actually. Right before they tried to bring me in for questioning when a hologram of an African lion appeared and chased them down the hallway of The Wilder Museum. I’d bolted in the opposite direction and right through the fire exit to the roof where I’d hopped into Tobias’s helicopter and been whisked away. My getaway wouldn’t exactly inspire confidence.
Tobias gave a reassuring smile. “Did you come up with a better plan?”
I reached out my hand for his phone. “I’m going to call the FBI.”
He slid his phone across the granite toward me.
I picked it up. “Will they be able to track the call?”
“Keep an eye on the front door. That’s a yes, if you’re wondering.”
I swiped my finger across his screen. “What you accessed on Burell’s computer can be given to them—”
“Hacking is illegal.”
I tapped the Google app to search for a number. “We can submit the information anonymously.”
“Which helps us how?”
“They can use what you found to obtain a search warrant for all his properties—”
“The FBI can’t touch him. They need more. Look, the moment he believes his art collection is under threat he’ll move them. Your paintings will be lost forever.”
My shoulders slumped in resignation. “What if we try to get our lives back? Forget all this ever happened?”
“Forget this ever happened?” He sounded incredulous.
“Yes, you go back to inventing gadgets and me to Huntly Pierre—”
“And Burell
keeps your paintings and continues slaughtering the innocent. He doesn’t need to steal, Zara, did you ever think of that? He enjoys decimating lives. He’s a high-functioning psychopath.”
I turned my thoughts to home. “I need to call Clara.”
“I’ll set you up with a call later.” He wagged his finger at me. “No calls for now. No emailing.”
Reluctantly I slid his phone back to him. “We just used your phone.”
“My activity pings away from this location.”
“So what are you doing today?”
“I’m visiting Theo.”
“Your friend at NYU?”
“Yes.” Tobias came closer. “Your plan sucks.”
“My father would want me to find another way.” I cringed with how ashamed he’d be if he knew I had anything to do with the creation of a fake.
“Your father would want you to have the paintings back.” Tobias reached up to my face and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You were both meant to die in that fire. Think about that.”
“Who got us these new clothes? The food?”
Tobias considered his answer. “Coops.”
“He’s here in New York?” I remembered Cooper fondly as his young driver who I’d met in Oxfordshire. A loyal American chauffeur who Tobias trusted. He’d been kind to me when he’d driven me back from Blandford Palace the night of my first adventure with Wilder.
Tobias straightened his back defensively. “I need him to lay low.”
“Where is he?”
“A five-star hotel. He’ll survive.”
“You trust him?”
“Coops is smart. Loyal. He’s worked for me for years.” Tobias headed toward the door.
“Can I come with you?”
He spun round. “Sure.”
“I’m going to persuade you against this idea.”
“Mona Lisa will come through for us. Give her a chance.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I burned the bridge behind us, Zara. We move forward. Our reputations will be secure. Our freedom returned. All I need from you is trust.”
“A fake painting in the twenty-first century doesn’t stand a chance. There are too many specialists with access to the best science. And if it does slip past a review, if you believe you’re that good—”
The Prize Page 6
