The Prize

by Vanessa Fewings

  Being here soothed my soul and I couldn’t wait to explore the gallery. I turned to look at Tobias, reminding myself not to let my guard down and to keep an eye on him.

  He neared me. “You go into withdrawal if you’re away from art for more than twenty-four hours.”

  “That’s true.” I did get jittery if too much time passed and I couldn’t bathe in the beauty of the old masters.

  “I got my science fix. This is for you.” He pushed me against a marble pillar, trapping me between the stone and his hard chest. “Give me permission.”

  I drew in a sharp breath. “What for?”

  “This.” He crushed his lips to mine, kissing me hard on the mouth, and passion surged through me as his tongue lashed feverishly, alighting every nerve. My body pulsed with pleasure as his cologne cloaked me in his seductive mastery and made me forget we were in a public place. He pulled away and grinned revealing that familiar warmth in his gaze. “I love seeing you come alive like this.”

  “We’re still in the foyer,” I chuckled.

  “You are home, Zara,” he growled into my ear. “In my opinion you’re the masterpiece.”

  We’d caught the attention of a crowd of tourists who were looking our way and they giggled at us.

  Don’t pull away...

  The pressure of his body lifted from mine and instinctively I grabbed his shoulders to hold him to me. With each passing day, I’d sensed him tuning into my needs and being here was proof of that. Breathing in the gallery air felt like normality had returned even if it was temporary.

  With my arm in his we strolled along the endless rooms of the Met, pausing here and there to savor a painting and swoon at the talent that had brought it to life. Within the heart of a top-floor exhibit, a French Renaissance display opened to us. I settled on the leather seat in the middle of this grandeur to admire the fantastic imagery of The Last Judgment by Hieronymus Bosch. A terrifying painting on three panels, the first of the Garden of Eden, the middle depicting God in heaven casting out his rebel angels and the right panel where Jesus judged the souls of the damned. The vision was hard to turn away from.

  “Current mood?” He sat beside me and gestured to the panels.

  “I’m a little scared, Tobias.”

  “Don’t worry about Burell—”

  “No, I mean you and I have loved art all our lives. What will this do to us?”

  “When you’re reunited with your paintings you will feel different about all of this. I will see to it that our creation has a brief existence. It will be as though she never existed.”

  “You’re asking a lot from me.” I wrapped my arm through his. “And I’m asking even more from you.”

  “I’d do anything for you, Zara.”

  I buried my face in my hands. “I want it over.”

  He caressed my back and we sat quietly and savored the peace of this quiet room and I tried to imagine how things would be between us after this.

  He turned to face me. “You didn’t say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “When I confessed how I feel about you.”

  I turned to look at him. “Are you talking about what you told me in the New York Ballet theatre?”

  “Yes.”

  Was he really referring to his words I sense how easy it would be to love you? “You were pretty vague.”

  He pulled me into him and crushed his lips to mine sparking an erotic aliveness within me, and I swooned as the tension in my shoulders that I’d been carrying for so long relaxed. These flashes of his affection were dangerously convincing.

  I nipped his lip. “Security is watching.”

  “All part of our ruse.”

  I felt a wave of vulnerability. “So that kiss meant nothing?”

  “It meant everything.” He leaned back a little to try and read me. “What I meant was I don’t care what the world thinks.”

  “You called it a ruse.”

  “There must be truth in every subterfuge for it to be believed. I refuse to hide. And I’m happy to be with you here.”

  I brought my hands up to cup his cheeks to convey how I felt about him, and he narrowed his gaze as though mulling over my confusion. We still had to face so much uncertainty and were holding on by a thread with everything just one snap away from falling apart.

  Tobias rose and walked away.

  I went to call after him and then realized from the friendliness of how he greeted her that he was heading toward someone he recognized. I assumed the pretty forty-something was Sarah Belle. Pushing myself to my feet I remained a little way back as he chatted with the woman who carried herself like a curator. She threw me a wave and I gave one back.

  Walking in the opposite direction I neared a closed door with the gold lettering above announcing beyond was the Edgar Degas exhibit. A memory hit me—aged seven years I’d pirouetted before a Degas trying to mirror the elegance of a ballerina. Oh, God, I’d believed that painting had been destroyed all these years. My memories felt tainted.

  “Wait for me,” Tobias called over.

  I wanted to be in that room, wanted to cleanse myself of this uneasiness and my feet kept walking until my hand was on the door.

  Why is it closed?

  Tobias cut me off. “It’s not ready.”

  I tried to pry my arm away from his hand that had stopped me, and doubt rose in my chest for why we were here.

  “Please, Zara, give us a few minutes before we go in.” He turned and waved goodbye to Sarah Belle.

  A wave of panic. “What is this?”

  He faced me again. “When I create a hologram or a three-dimensional world it’s only a reflection of the authenticity it strives to reflect. I was reminded of that when I saw your expression during the demonstration back at the house. You loved the art I’d captured with my virtual reality but nothing equals being at a gallery. Right?”

  “That’s just it, Tobias.” My gut twisted. “With you I’m never sure what I’m seeing. You have this facade that’s challenging to penetrate. I’ve seen a side of you I always believed was there, a good side, but then it’s gone.”

  “Don’t let Mona Lisa curse me for the rest of my life.”

  “Whatever incantation you’re casting to catch the Burells is rubbing off on me.” I pointed to the room. “More mysteries? More smoke and mirrors?”

  He hung his head in frustration.

  I twisted the door handle and gave it a shove—

  Hurrying in, I stopped in the center of the room when I saw the dinner table set up with a pristine white cloth and two plate settings. Soft lighting threw dramatic shadows around the romantically set room. Making my way in farther my breath caught in wonder at the art adorning the walls and all of them were dreamy renditions by Edgar Degas.

  I’d been away from my beloved art for too long.

  I exhaled a long breath of surprise for what Tobias had pulled off, and when I filled my lungs again it was with awe at the portraits surrounding me. Ahead of me, I spotted The Ballet Class. It was painted around 1874, revealing Degas’s privileged access to the backstage area of the opera house where he’d observed dancers rehearsing and had masterfully captured them in a moment of time.

  I absorbed the vision of Degas’s 1874 The Ballet Rehearsal on Stage, and admired his choice of colors, that gorgeous blue, the dancers immortalized midmovement, and allowed myself to be absorbed into the canvas and have these seconds selfishly dissolve.

  I’d discovered something else about Tobias, not only from being in this setting that he’d chosen specially, but from our easy access to watch a rehearsal at the New York Ballet, and that was he had a fondness for dancing. He truly was a Renaissance man.

  He gave a wary smile as though gauging what I thought of his surprise. I looked upon this complex man, a mosaic of many layers, and this was why I’d struggled to def
ine him. His gaze wandered from painting to painting and his expression was full of adoration. Yet when his eyes found mine again they turned fiercely protective. Staring into each other’s eyes, time stood still and at that moment I was seeing him.

  He’d been right, I had needed my art fix and no matter where I was in the world art would always be my anchor. That Tobias had known this touched me deeply. He felt like my safe harbor in the storm. Words failed me as I shrugged my apology for how I’d just spoken to him and he responded with a grin to convey all was forgiven.

  He held out his hand and escorted me to the table.

  A young waiter served ravioli pieces drizzled in lobster sauce as an appetizer. It would have been easy to forget we were in a gallery and not a fine restaurant. After pouring champagne into two flutes the young man laid a serviette on my lap.

  Tobias thanked him.

  He made a quiet exit and closed the door to the exhibit room behind him.

  I smoothed out my napkin. “This is lovely.”

  He glanced up toward the cameras. “They only have visual coverage so we can talk freely.”

  I gave him the look that deserved. “And you know that how?”

  “I Googled it.” He gave a wry smile.

  “I once Googled you.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “You know your public image.”

  “I’m interested in hearing how you perceived it.”

  “You have a beautiful woman on your arm in many of the photos.”

  “And?”

  I tilted my head to say the rest.

  He gestured with a wave to make his point. “I’ve experienced a dramatic shift off my axis after meeting you.” He raised his brows playfully. “You’ve affected me in unusual and somewhat existential ways.”

  “Somewhat?”

  “You’ve given me a reason to live, Zara.”

  My hand rested on my chest to soften the effect of his words.

  “Do I frighten you?”

  “I’ve given you the power to decimate my life, Tobias.”

  “What do you need to hear from me to know my affection for you is real?”

  “Tell me why you find it hard to love?”

  He set his knife and fork down. “You want to do this now?”

  “Yes.” I gestured to the paintings. “This is an incredible setting. I know you went to a lot of trouble to make it happen. Still, you are more important than any painting.”

  “It gave me a great deal of pleasure arranging this for you.” He raised his hand to insist. “I made the calls, not Coops, in case you’re wondering.”

  “It has your touch.”

  He cut into a square of ravioli and gestured for me to eat mine. It tasted delicious and the flavors tingled my taste buds with their creamy tomato sauce. I was hungrier than I realized and tucked into my food with gusto.

  “This is perfect.” Tobias set his cutlery down on his plate. “We should do this every night.”

  “It’s a date. The visitors will just have to walk around us.”

  “Maybe I’ll buy it.”

  “The Met?”

  He gave a shrug. “Maybe I’ll buy it for you.”

  “First, it belongs to the people, and second...”

  He peered over his flute and held my gaze. “Go on.”

  “If you and I are to work, Tobias, there must be no walls between us.” I sat back. “So let me in.”

  He blew out a sigh. “What do you want to know?”

  “What drives you?”

  “Bringing new concepts into the world. But you know that about me. More recently you inspire me, Zara. Your bravery. Us being here is my way of rewarding your courage.”

  “Because I went with you to Liberty Island?”

  “Because you’re giving me a chance to prove who I am.”

  “I know why you’re closed off,” I said softly. “Once you’re in survival mode—”

  He went to say something but changed his mind.

  “Do you trust me, Tobias?”

  “I find that I do.”

  “Why did you hold back so much from me when we first met?”

  “Other than the obvious?” He arched a brow to remind me who he was.

  “Something is holding you back from happiness.”

  He pushed his plate away. “Loving someone leads to pain. That was my experience. During the hours after my parents died I felt a shift and since that day I’ve been reluctant to open up.”

  “Tell me about that shift.”

  “After the plane came down I knew what had to be done. I searched for water and food on the plane. I tried the radio. It was broken. I made a fire. What kept me going was getting Annibale Carracci’s Madonna Enthroned with Saint Matthew to Sydney. I vowed to complete my parents’ mission.”

  “And you fulfilled your promise.”

  “And I hardened my heart against the agony. I felt guilty I’d made it and they hadn’t. I made the promise never to allow vulnerability near me again.”

  I swallowed past a lump of sadness.

  “I was nine when I made that pledge to myself. Nine when I lay beneath the stars in the Outback in the dead of night and promised never to get close to anyone.”

  “You love your uncle?”

  “My heart is impervious to a relationship.” He raised his gaze to meet mine. “I believed that right up until I met you. My feelings for you are complicated.”

  “Complicated?”

  “My heart tells me you’re The One.” He reached over and took my hand. “You’ve asked me to give up the only thing that made sense of all that happened to me. You’re asking me to suppress that part of me.” He looked around the display as though mulling over that thought. “I promise you I will. I’m ready for the next chapter in my life.”

  And I was ready to tell him how much I loved him, because he deserved to know. I’ve always loved him.

  He let go of my hand and gestured to let me know the waiter was behind me. The server removed our plates and set down two entrées of fish and chips.

  I’d missed my chance.

  Tobias smiled as he motioned to the paintings. “This was to soothe your homesickness for England—” He pointed to our meal. “This is mine.”

  I blushed a little, having been so close to saying that four-letter word that would have left me vulnerable.

  “Zara? Everything okay?”

  “Yes, of course. You miss London?”

  “I love my home in Oxfordshire. The countryside in England is like nowhere else. The quiet.”

  “Do you miss your foxes?”

  “Rascals that they are.”

  I popped a chip into my mouth and it tasted deliciously salty and made my mouth water. “Sometimes you are annoyingly perfect.”

  “I’m going to aim to impress you for the rest of your life.” He grinned. “As you can see I’m an open book when it comes to you.”

  “There is something else.”

  “Ask away.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “How old were you when you found out Elliot Burell sabotaged your parents’ plane?”

  “Nine.” Tobias’s gaze locked on mine. “I overheard my uncle Fabienne arguing with his lawyer. They were discussing the findings from the investigation surrounding the crash. I was meant to be asleep but I’d come down for a glass of water and I heard the tension in his voice. He was being advised to hide me away. I didn’t see my grandmother for five years after that.”

  I felt dreadful for him. “How did they find out the plane had been sabotaged?”

  “When they examined the wreckage, they found evidence the fuselage had been tampered with. They went back to check the hangar’s surveillance and it showed a man working on the plane who
wasn’t authorized to be in there. They matched his fingerprints. He was a hired mercenary who worked for Elliot Burell.”

  “Why didn’t your uncle prosecute?”

  “The man disappeared.” Tobias reached for his glass. “Burell’s lawyers threatened my uncle with a defamation lawsuit. We went to live in France.” Tobias drank the rest of his water as though trying to quench a thirst that would never relent.

  “When you became a public figure, weren’t you scared Burell would come for you?”

  He leaned forward. “I kept away from that family right up until I discovered they’d stolen a Titian. I admit to outbidding them for paintings in auctions from time to time to entertain my dark heart. Zara, that heist changed my life. Not only did I achieve my goal, but I also found a collection that belonged to the most enigmatic woman I’ve ever met. And here we are. Dining within the company of Degas.”

  I turned my gaze to a Degas in a golden frame. “Do you ever wish you could just slip inside one of these and stay there?”

  Tobias pushed his chair back as he stood. “I already have.”

  Staring up at him I tried to read his next move. I shoved a fry into my mouth nervously.

  “Stand up, Zara.”

  Slowly, I rose from my seat, wary of Wilder’s next move. I licked salt off my fingers, my heart thundering at the change in his tone. He walked around the table and neared me. “What would make the evening perfect?”

  “Chocolate pudding?”

  He lowered his chin. “Think grander.”

  “Tobias,” I said breathlessly as a jolt of fear ran down my spine for what Icon was about to do next.

  He leaned in and kissed my ear. “Trust me.”

  “I do.” My voice sounded shaky, uncertain.

  “Then why are you looking at me like I’m Icon?” His irises glistened under the soft light.

  “I trust you.” My lips pressed his tenderly.

  He smiled against my mouth. “I want to bring the room alive for you.” Tobias stepped back and gestured his thanks when the waiter cleared the table. Two more staff helped carry the table out.

  Bring the room alive?

  My heart soared when three ballerinas trotted in and all of them wearing blue leotards and lush tutus with fresh yellow flowers in their hair, gliding elegantly toward the center of the room. My palm flew to my mouth to suppress my gasp of joy. Tobias lit up at my reaction and took my hand and led me toward the far wall so we could watch them from there.