The Prize

by Vanessa Fewings

  Tobias’s hand slid down the center of my dress and felt for the wire. Stay away from The Rose Club, he warned.

  I intend to. I snapped his hand away from my chest. “It’s certainly been an interesting experience, Mr. Wilder.”

  He stepped back. “You’ve exceeded my expectations, Ms. Leighton.”

  I reached for his shoulders and shoved him downward to let him know I wanted him on his knees to punish his brashness.

  He went down until he was kneeling before me and tilted his head with intrigue as his green eyes sparkled with mischief. “There’s another asset I’m interested in. I may need your assistance on this precious find.” His hands slid up beneath my hem and trailed their way toward my panties.

  Only I wasn’t wearing any.

  “Let me know when you see something you like.” My voice provoked the danger.

  “Would you be interested in joining forces with me to explore this untamed piece I have my sights on?” Wilder shot me a look of approval that I was pantiless and buried his face between my thighs and his tongue swept along my clit.

  My body shivered with arousal. “I’d certainly love to hear more about your expectations.”

  He separated my folds with gentle fingers and kissed tenderly. “It’s a piece often worshiped from afar.”

  I suppressed a giggle. “How about close up?”

  “Ah, when explored close up—” his tongue lavished me with luxurious flicking “—it’s even more beautiful. It’s ethereal. One might even go so far as to say that when tasted it elicits a euphoria that is unrivaled.”

  “Could it be Venus?” I played with his locks and then gripped a scruff of hair.

  “She’s worshiped no less devoutly.” He was sucking now, sending me closer to the edge. “But no, she is more, so much more...” His mouth found me again and he lavished strokes furiously.

  “Worth keeping, then? Should you be so lucky to possess her?”

  His mouth took me savagely, his tongue tearing into me with a controlled violence that forced my orgasm to endlessly unfold, my shaky thighs weakening and my internal muscles yearning for him to fill me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I savored my pleasure and claimed this erotic scene as my own as I tightened my grip on Wilder’s scalp. Slipping out of time, my climax stole me away and wooed me into her blissful void, and I pressed my fingers to my lips to prevent a revealing moan.

  He continued his gentle kisses, and then pulled my gown down to cover me, resting his forehead against my abdomen as though needing this moment as much as I did to recover, needing this closeness. Time dissolved as we selfishly stole these moments.

  Tobias rose to his feet, tipped my chin and mouthed, I am in love with you, Ms. Leighton.

  Dragging my teeth over my bottom lip, I basked in his beauty, this affection and his words that meant so much.

  “When you need me again, Mr. Wilder, I’ll be here for you.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a room key and handed it to me with a smile. For later, he mouthed. Penthouse.

  I took it from him, hoping I’d be able to evade Abby. I tucked it into my purse.

  “Let’s celebrate our wonderful union—” he arched a brow “—art collector and authenticator working in symbiotic perfection.”

  I went to return to the ballroom.

  Tobias grabbed my wrist. Go back to your room.

  “I have to say goodbye to Abby.” I eased my arm away. “I have to let her know I’m leaving.” Is he here?

  Not yet. He flashed a reassuring smile and pulled me toward the dance floor, and when I tried to pry my hand out of his Tobias gripped tighter. I glanced around for Abby.

  Tobias rested his left hand on my lower spine and yanked me toward him with his right hand holding a firm grip of my hand. It was as though he didn’t want to let me go.

  Don’t dip me, I warned—

  He dipped me and my back arched dangerously close to the ground and my hair spilled behind me.

  “Wilder!” I burst out.

  “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” Yet even off balance with him I felt safe.

  “You know.”

  “It’s been the greatest pleasure working with you.”

  He lifted me upright and yanked me against him and I rested my cheek on his chest, aching for privacy, desperate to be alone and able to talk freely. I breathed him in, his heady cologne, his presence, his love, wishing I could stay in his arms forever.

  “Well, as you’re here,” he said, “at least let me have your last dance.”

  “Fine.”

  He gave me a knowing look. “I hope you had fun.”

  “This was a blast.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you feel?” He wasn’t referring to the ball.

  “Optimistic.” My palm cupped his cheek as I conveyed my concern for his safety.

  He responded with a devilish smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing how our beauty and the beast play out. Personally, I like the idea of having a front row seat.”

  I rolled my eyes to chastise him even if he was vague.

  “Zara,” he whispered into my ear, “if the meaning to life had a taste you would be it.”

  I reveled in this moment and clutched him, wishing this romantic dance wasn’t an illusion.

  He broke away. “Time for bed. Nightcap?”

  “Bombay martini, please.”

  “What have I done to you?” He beamed a smile and disappeared into the crowd.

  I felt the loss of him too easily and moved away from the other dancers. Exhaling, I let out a contented sigh that we always found our way back to each other. No matter what, we found each other in the storm and it comforted me knowing this would soon be over. Though my heart quickened when I remembered Eli would be entering The Rose Club soon.

  Moving closer, I admired Bay’s paintings with their extraordinary beauty, marveling at their realism. They were being adored by a large crowd who’d gathered around them. I closed the distance between me and the artwork, aware of the honor of being in the same room as a rare talent that rivaled some of the greatest in history. Brother Bay was a living, breathing master of our time.

  “Having fun?” Abby nudged me.

  I ignored her innuendo. “How’s Adley?”

  “He’s just found his East Coast buddies. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m okay. You?”

  “Having fun, actually. Where’s the man of the moment?”

  “He’s getting me a drink.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still talking to him after he tried to ditch you earlier.” She let out a long sigh. “Maybe I misjudged you.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Maybe you go after what you want too.”

  “Look, Abby, please don’t get the wrong idea about me. Yes, I come from a famous Russian family but I’m not a princess. Nor do I act like one.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. Lately you’ve been acting spoiled with no thought to anyone else. And you need to let this Burell obsession go.”

  “Can you blame me for wanting my paintings back? My family faced a great danger to get them out of Russia. My happiness is their happiness. My fate is their fate. This is about making their deaths mean something.”

  “That was a long time ago, Zara.”

  “No, I refuse to forget the past. I refuse to forget the names of those who gave their life so I could have a better one. Do you know the story of what happened to the royal Russian family?”

  “They were killed.”

  “In the dead of night, they were marched down into a small dark basement and reassured they’d soon be moved to a safer location. Minutes after Czar Nicholas, Czarina Alexandra and their five chi
ldren were imprisoned they were under siege by an execution squad and warned that their deaths were imminent. That’s right, their murderers were considerate enough to put the fear of God in them first. Seconds later, the entire family were shot, bayoneted and clubbed to death. The children took longer to die because they’d stashed a few of the family heirlooms beneath their clothes in case they needed to sell them later to buy food. The bayonets kept bouncing off the heirlooms and missing their flesh. Their bodies were then mutilated and buried in unmarked graves.” I swallowed the agony of knowing this had been the fate of my ancestors. “Their crime? They were born into royalty. A prejudice you hold against me, Abby.”

  Her expression softened, perhaps because she too imagined the screams of the children that night.

  My voice strained. “My family risked their lives to get those paintings to safety. They believed in something greater than themselves. These are the same paintings that belonged to my father and were stolen from us and to hide the fact our home was set on fire. Those paintings are more than canvas and paint and profound talent and a treasure trove of art. They are hope, and faith, and love that endures. So, don’t tell me I should forget them.”

  Abby swallowed hard and turned to face Bay’s paintings. In the aftermath of those passing seconds of my outburst I saw understanding in Abby’s eyes, sadness even. I turned to look upon the portraits, and it made me wonder if Bay had chosen these very subjects because all of them exuded a certain wisdom.

  “Apparently, it took Rembrandt years sometimes.” Abby’s voice was infused with respect. “I wonder how long each one of these took.”

  “They are beautiful.” My thoughts carried me all the way to mine, stashed somewhere so that no one could see them. My family had sacrificed their lives for them, and I was sacrificing my integrity to get them back.

  She gestured with her chin to the other side of the room. “Wasn’t that drink meant for you?”

  Tobias was talking with a pretty blonde and from their closeness they seemed to know each other. He gave her the drink he was carrying—my Bombay martini.

  Then I recalled where I’d seen her before—

  Wilder was talking with Elliot Burell’s granddaughter and though I’d only ever seen Paige Burell once, other than in Vogue while researching her family, it was that vision of her in a wedding gown whooshing along a hallway in that Arizona estate that had stayed with me.

  My gaze dragged around the room as I searched for Eli, and my attention snapped back toward Tobias. I watched him chatting politely with her.

  My gut warned me to tell Abby who Paige was, but I put this down to my ego not wanting to get bruised from her assuming Wilder was womanizing. I wondered if Eli had sent his niece instead. He and Paige were around the same age which had confused me at first, but Eli himself had explained he was Elliot’s son. His father had him late in life with a third wife, or so I vaguely remembered.

  Perhaps, I reasoned, Tobias was asking her if Eli was here, after all the fake auction was set for just after 10:00 p.m. I wondered how she’d gotten in past security. Tobias caught me staring and his eyes flittered to the ballroom exit in a subtle gesture to warn me to go to my room. My gut wrenched because that meant Eli was here.

  “Come on.” Abby grabbed my arm firmly and led me toward the bar. “You need a drink.”

  I assumed she thought I needed to drown my sorrows after we’d observed Tobias talking with a pretty blonde.

  Abby got the attention of the barman and ordered two glasses of Chardonnay. Tobias could handle the Burells, I was certain of it. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to flit the occasional glance his way to watch his back. Sitting on a bar stool I observed the barman pouring our drinks and at the same time I used the mirror to survey behind me. Paige whispered something into Tobias’s ear—he whispered something back and she smiled.

  Dread sent a cold chill through me as my gaze scanned the guests for her uncle.

  This was really going down.

  Vaguely, I noticed a glass of white wine being placed in front of me and a wave of nausea washed over me. I wasn’t sure my stomach could take much more. I slid off the bar stool. “I need to go to the loo. Will you be okay?”

  “Sure.” Abby squeezed my arm. “I’m here for you. I know I can come over as a bit of a bitch sometimes. You had us all scared.”

  “I’m sorry for all of that,” I admitted as my guilt burrowed deeper. “Hurting Adley hurts me too. It was never my intention.”

  “If you need a shoulder to cry on.” She shook her head. “What am I saying, you’re stronger than this.”

  “I am.”

  “At least you got to see him before you left.” She pointed toward Wilder.

  I headed out of the ballroom and glanced back toward the bar and saw Abby was distracted by the barman. Tobias was still deep in conversation with Paige.

  The hallway was empty.

  Strolling along the plush carpet I searched for the restroom. I quickly found it and made my way into a stall, admiring the posh-looking everything that was The Plaza’s loo and trying to think of anything other than this rising nausea.

  A pinch came from my chest and in a fit of annoyance I slipped my hand down my bodice to smooth the offending tape, though when it pinched again I ripped at the wire and kept tugging until I was holding it in my hand and staring at the thing. I tucked it into my purse and carried on as though I’d not just compromised Abby’s attempt to entrap me. I peed and headed out to wash my hands.

  Staring at my frazzled reflection, I took a moment to reapply my lipstick and fluff my hair in the mirror—

  A tall man loomed behind me.

  I turned to face him and almost fell backward when he grabbed my forearm and painfully pulled me out of the restroom.

  “Let go.” My throat constricted in terror.

  “Scream and you’re dead,” he snapped.

  Ahead was a door and he dragged me into a deserted hallway. My aggressor yanked open another door and shoved me in, and I staggered forward, dropping my purse and almost tripping—

  Across the room, Eli was dressed sharply in a black tuxedo with that arrogant fop of hair over his right eye, and beside him were four of his men and all of them were also camouflaged in black tuxedos to conceal their savagery.

  I drew in a terror-drenched breath—if he opened my purse and found that wire the event Tobias had carefully planned in The Rose Club wouldn’t happen.

  “Hello, Zara.” Eli strolled toward me. “I’m here for my painting.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ELI SHOVED ME against the wall.

  My heart pounded violently and I was terrified he’d find the wire, even if I needed Abby to hear this. Glancing around, I realized this was a conference suite and no one would have any need to come in here.

  “Zara, I’m glad I got to bump into you.” Eli towered over me. “As you work for Huntly Pierre, you work for my father—” his breath warmed my ear “—you work for me.” His fingers wrapped around my throat and he squeezed. “Wasn’t it your job to find our Titian?”

  “There are leads.” I trembled. “Your father is being updated.”

  “But you’re here? In New York? You’re not doing your job.” Eli gripped my face and pain shot into my jaw.

  I turned my head away when Eli’s hand ran along my collarbone and lowered to my chest.

  The door burst open and Tobias stormed in. “Get off her.”

  “Well, thank you for joining us, Mr. Wilder.” Eli stepped back.

  “Zara,” snapped Tobias. “Out, please.”

  Eli’s arrogance overflowed as he grabbed my shoulder. “She was enjoying our private party.”

  I suppressed my panic. “Let us go.”

  Eli sneered. “Or what? I won’t get my painting?”

  Tobias gestured left. “Your painting is waiting for you in The R
ose Club.”

  “I’m not interested in bidding on it.” Eli straightened his back.

  Tobias gave a nod. “I’m sure I can assist with what you need.”

  Eli waved his command and his men attacked Tobias.

  He broke free—throwing a punch at one of the burly men who staggered back. He fought well, but there were too many of them and they manhandled him into a violent restraint. One of the other men landed a fist on Wilder’s lip and split it open.

  His head fell forward; dazed.

  And then I saw the gun with the barrel pressed directly on Tobias’s temple.

  “Put the barrel in his mouth if he speaks.” Eli waved his order. “That should work.”

  I suppressed a sob and threw Tobias a reassuring glance that we were going to be okay, all we had to do was stay calm until Abby got here with backup. If I could just convey this to him.

  Tobias squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. “Don’t touch her.”

  “Unless you want to eat metal, shut the fuck up, Wilder.” Eli sauntered back toward me. “I have so many questions and something tells me you know the answers.”

  “Listen, Eli—” Tobias sucked his bleeding lip. “She has nothing to do with this. I hired her to help me with tonight’s event. Let her go.”

  The man holding the gun hit Tobias’s face with it and almost knocked him out.

  “Don’t,” I cried.

  “It’s time to track down my Titian.” Eli loomed over me.

  My back struck the wall as he neared and I felt that nausea returning. I tried to breathe against my dread of that gun. “I’ll find your Titian.” My voice cracked with emotion. “I promise.”

  Tobias struggled against his captors.

  “If he moves again, shoot him.” Eli turned back to me. “Don’t worry, it has a silencer. Tell me who owns this Mona Lisa?”

  “We went through his emissary.”

  “Name?”

  “I can put you in touch with his staff—”

  “Can you put me in touch with Icon?”

  “I...I think so.”

  “Well, we know he’s in New York. The FBI are looking for him here. Huntly Pierre are on his tail. He’s here. And there’s a rumor you’re in contact with him.”