by Jill Sanders
When she made her way down to meet Cole at the foot of the stairs, his eyes heated as they ran over her.
“My god,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful, no one is going to be looking at your art tonight.”
She laughed as her stomach did little leaps for joy.
“Where are you going to put your phone?” He handed her the device.
“I have a clutch purse.” She showed him. “But…” She slid the phone between her breasts and smiled when his mouth fell open. “I was thinking here would work too.”
“Yeah.” He reached out and ran a fingertip town the low V of the dress. “I can’t wait to peel this off you later.”
She took his hand as they walked outside.
“What’s this?” she asked out on the front porch, looking over at Cole.
“I thought that you deserved to show up in style.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Come.” He helped her down the front stairs and into the limo.
“Would you like a drink?” He held up a bottle of champagne as the car drove away from her house.
“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” She smiled as he popped the cork and poured the bubbly liquid.
His eyes met hers as he handed her a glass. “To new beginnings with the woman of my dreams.” He clicked his glass to hers and they drank.
“I’m so nervous,” she admitted, downing the champagne quickly. He took the bottle and poured her a little more.
“Don’t be. Everyone is going to love all of your pieces.” He brushed a hand over her hair.
She’d worn it up in a messy, curly bun. The silver V-neck dress she had purchased was a perfect fit and showcased what few assets she had. The matching silver shoes were a little too big, but Amber had assured her that was a good thing since she was going to be standing in them all evening.
“There is one more item we need to discuss before we arrive.” He shifted as he took her glass and set it down on the small bar area.
When he pulled out a small red box from his suit pocket, Ashley’s heart skipped.
“Ashley Scott, I think I’ve loved you from second grade, it might have been first, but…” He shrugged and smiled up at her. She held her breath as he opened the small case. “More than anything, I’ve wanted to marry you and start a new life with you. We’ve been working towards this all our lives.” He took the ring and slid it on her finger. “Tell me to go to hell, tell me I’m not good enough for you.”
“Never,” she interrupted, causing him to smile.
“Then tell me you’ll put me out of my misery and marry me.”
“Yes.” She smiled as he finished sliding the ring on her finger.
He pulled her to him and hugged her until she felt all the shaking and nerves disappear.
When the limo rolled to a stop, she felt that with Cole’s ring on her finger, she could conquer anything. He helped her out of the car, and she smiled when she saw her paintings in the windows of the gallery. There was a line of people outside, waiting to get in.
“Ready?” he asked her on the sidewalk.
She leaned up and gave him a kiss. “I am now.”
At first, Cole stuck to her side as she weaved in and out of people, answering questions about her pieces. But after Amber and Tom arrived with her parents, Cole relaxed a little more and stayed back with Tom.
She hadn’t had a chance to tell her family yet about their engagement, but there was plenty of time after the showing.
Of course, Amber had seen the ring and pulled her aside.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Her sister smiled at her.
“This?” She held out the ring. “He asked on the way over tonight.” They hugged for a while before someone pulled her across the room to talk about one of the pieces she’d done in Paris.
An hour later, her feet were turning numb and she’d drunk too much champagne. She’d tried to offset it by nibbling on the hors d’oeuvre, but still, she was a little wobbly on her silver heels.
“Miss Scott.” Luca Marcello approached her and took her arm. She’d met him for the first time yesterday when she and Cole had delivered most of the paintings. He was an older gentleman, she guessed in his late seventies, yet still very attractive with his jet-black hair peppered with silver. His Italian accent wasn’t as thick as she’d expected, but he’d explained that he’d lived in the States since he was ten years old and only visited his family in Italy every few years. “I hope you are enjoying your evening.”
“Very much so. I can’t thank you enough for all of this.” She glanced around at the almost-full gallery.
“I have a private collector that wishes to speak with you alone.” He started walking her towards the back of the gallery.
“Oh?” She set her drink down on a tray as they walked by.
“Yes, a Mr. Bernard. He claims he knows you already?” Ashley thought of the name and frowned. The only Mr. Bernard she knew was an art teacher in Paris. Just as they made it to the back hallway, one of the gallery’s staff stopped Luca and whispered something in his ear. “I’m sorry, there is a matter which needs my attention. Mr. Bernard is waiting for you in my office.” He motioned to the last door. “Please, I will join you when I can.”
She nodded and continued down the hallway. When she opened the door, she frowned at the man who was leaning against the desk, smiling back at her. When she turned to leave, her arm was grabbed by a larger man and yanked behind her back. She didn’t have time to scream before a white cloth was forced over her mouth and nose.
* * *
Cole’s tie was practically choking him. He desperately wanted out of the stiff suit and into nothing, with Ashley’s naked body pressed up against his.
His eyes kept scanning the crowded room for that sexy silver dress of hers. All night long, he’d found it harder and harder to concentrate on holding conversations. Even with Tom, whom he’d always gotten along with.
Her entire family had been there at some point that night. Aiden and Kristen had stopped by for half an hour before heading out when their babysitter called and told them their son Camden had thrown up.
Ashley’s parents had come and gone as well. Amber and Tom had stuck around, hinting that they wanted to grab some real food with them once the party was over.
He knew that Amber had heard about their engagement, since Tom mentioned it to him as they stood in the corner of the room, trying to blend into the walls.
“I guess parties like this are something we both have to get used to,” Tom said grabbing another glass of champagne. “Don’t get me wrong, champagne is great, but I’d kill for a beer right about now.”
“You and me both,” he said, tapping his glass to Tom’s.
“It’s kind of amazing to see how talented Ashley has gotten.” Tom nodded to the closest piece of hers, hanging on the wall beside them. It was the piece she’d done up at the cabin.
“Yeah.” He smiled, remembering how he’d watched her create it. “Still, my favorite piece is the one hanging over our fireplace. She painted it in Paris.”
“Oh?” Tom’s eyebrows rose. “I’ll have to see it next time we’re over there. Sounds like we’re going to be brothers-in-law soon,” Tom added.
“Yes.” Cole’s smile grew.
“Any idea when the big day will be?” Tom asked.
“That’s up to Ash,” he said, as his eyes scanned the room for her. When he didn’t immediately spot her, he frowned slightly. “Have you seen her?” he asked Tom.
“Hmm.” Tom glanced around the room. “Not in a while. I’m sure she’s around somewhere.” Tom grabbed a small cracker with shrimp and cheese on top as a waiter walked by. “Maybe Amber has seen her.” He motioned for his wife to come to them.
“Can you believe the turnout?” Amber said when she stopped in front of them.
“Have you seen Ashley?” he asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice. Amber’s eyebrows rose, giving him the clue that he hadn’t done a good enough jo
b.
“She might have gone to the bathroom,” Amber added, handing her glass to Tom. “I’ll go check.” Amber disappeared through the crowd and Cole counted the seconds as his eyes continued to scan the large gallery.
There were two floors and more than a thousand square feet broken up by the fake walls that held the paintings. Small benches had been removed for the showing, and lined up against a blank wall for guests who needed to sit down.
There were bathrooms both downstairs and upstairs, and they waited as Amber checked both.
“She’s not in either of those, but someone said that they saw her talking with Luca.” She motioned to where the gallery owner was deep in conversation with a younger couple. “Maybe he knows where she went.”
“I’ll go ask.” He made his way across the room with Tom and Amber in tow. Cole didn’t wait for a break in the conversation, instead, just barged in. “Have you seen Ashley?”
Luca’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, she’s in a private meeting with a Mr. Bernard in my office,” he said smoothly. “Regan will show you the way.” He motioned to a staff member standing beside him.
“No need, I remember where it is.” He quickly turned towards the back hallway where the older man had met them yesterday.
He wasn’t surprised when Tom and Amber continued to follow him.
When he opened the office door, his heart sank at the emptiness of the room.
“Where is she?” Amber asked, her voice going high.
Cole turned to Tom and pulled out his phone. “Dial RJ in my contacts,” he said as he passed them. “Tell him what’s going on.” He rushed down the hallway towards the back exit.
19
Ashley had tried to remember everything Cole had told her. She’d thankfully only barely inhaled the foul smell before holding her breath and going limp. She felt her body being lifted and carried outside. She assumed she’d been taken to the back alley since the smell of trash filled her nose.
She’d just been placed on a soft leather car seat when she chanced opening her eyes.
Seeing Niccolo Ricci in Luca’s office had been a shock. At first, she’d wondered why he’d given Luca the name of their teacher in Paris. When the cloth was slipped over her mouth, she realized he hadn’t wanted anyone to know his real name.
Whatever Niccolo’s intentions, Ashley was determined to escape him immediately. Just before the door was shut, she took her chance and kicked out. Hitting the car door with her feet, she felt one fragile heel snap. She kicked out again, this time sending the door into the man who’d grabbed her. He was a wall of a man, taller than Cole or Tom and as wide as any professional body builder she’d ever seen.
Still, she’d managed to catch him off guard and, when she’d kicked the door, had sent him tumbling onto the ground. Not wasting a second, she tossed off her shoes and sprinted towards the back door of the gallery.
Before reaching it, however, her arm was yanked behind her and she was pulled up tight against a hard body.
“Easy,” Niccolo hissed in her ear. “We’re just going to go for a quick drive,” he said, his accent changing from his normal Italian, growing thicker to where it almost sounded Russian. “You see my dear, I always get the things I want, and since first laying eyes on you, I’ve known what I’ve wanted.” He jerked her back towards the car as she fought him using several moves Cole had shown her. But Niccolo was too strong and pulled her arm further behind her back, causing pain to shoot up to her shoulder.
The giant man had gained his feet again and helped Niccolo shove her into the back of the dark car. He held her in place until Niccolo slid in next to her and locked the doors. She tried to think of a different way to escape, but so far, nothing was coming to mind. Then she remembered her cell phone tucked between her breasts. If she could get to it and call for help… all she had to do was stall Niccolo and play his game.
Taking several deep breaths, she tried to calm herself and get into character. She’d practiced enough roles with Amber that she was a half-decent actress herself. Hopefully, she was good enough to fool Niccolo.
Hoping the darkness of the car would hide her shaking, she crossed her legs, and glanced down at her bare feet.
“I really liked those shoes.” She pouted.
“I’ll buy you more,” he promised. This time, he didn’t even try to mask the thick Russian accent.
Her eyes turned to him and she forced a smile to form on her lips. “Is your name even Niccolo?” she asked softly.
“It was for a while,” he answered. “Max.” He knocked on the thick glass separating them from the driver. “Drive on.” The back of the car was much like a limo, minus the length. The soft leather spoke of wealth and even the suit Niccolo was wearing reeked of wealth. Whoever he was, it had always been clear that he had plenty of money to go around.
Niccolo opened a small compartment and pulled out two crystal glasses. “Champagne?” he asked her smoothly.
“I’ve had enough tonight,” she answered.
Still, he poured two glasses and handed her one. She thought for a moment of breaking it over his head, but then glanced forward and realized the massive man named Max was still in control of the vehicle, which was now speeding away from downtown Denver. How would she escape him?
She tucked the glass close to her instead. “Why kidnap me?” she asked.
“Such a terrible term, kidnap. I prefer acquire much better.” She felt her skin crawl. “My dear, you are going to join my collection.”
“You have a string of women you’ve… acquired?” she asked, causing him to chuckle.
“No, you are the first.” He sipped his drink, then nodded for her to do the same. Since he wasn’t going to give up, she put the glass to her lips and pretended to sip. He seemed satisfied and continued talking. “I have amassed an extensive collection of valuable things I desire—art, automobiles, homes, animals—each item valuable to me in its own way. Some unique, some invaluable, others…”—he ran a finger over her knee—“more desirable.” She felt her entire body shiver and crossed her legs away from him.
“And you think I’d just allow myself to be collected?” She tried to keep her tone natural, but panic was starting to surface.
“What makes you think you have any choice in the matter?” He smirked. “I may have toyed with you in Paris, but after seeing what you’re capable of… It’s now very clear where you belong. With me.”
“What I’m capable of?” She shook her head, not understanding.
“My dear, every piece in that gallery tonight was worth a hundred times your asking price. If one was able to control the flow of your works, one would be able to drive the market.”
“You think I’m going to paint for you?” She almost laughed, then remembered to stay in character. It was too light in the car for her to get to her cell phone, she just had to bide her time until she could get to it safely.
“You will paint for me,” he warned, his voice going deep. “In time you will see.” He sipped his drink. “We will make a wonderful team.”
“It was you,” she finally said as it dawned on her. “You hired those people to break into my house?”
He chuckled. “It was supposed to look like a burglary, but the fool Anton messed up and before he could gather the paintings, you returned.” His hand moved to her hair. “I regret that he hurt you.”
She tried to hold very still as he touched the spot where her stitches had been.
“When I hired Badumna and her team in Moscow, they assured me they could move my… collection safely and smoothly. Then she screwed up in Paris. They had no clue your man was the same one that had escaped her clutches in Paris. I didn’t know who he was or how close they were to finding me until after that night. It was sheer luck, actually, that I overheard one of my workers calling the FBI. Naturally, I went with Badumna when she took the snitch’s place to meet your man at Arc de Triomphe. Shooting him was like two birds with one stone—getting the FBI off my trail and clearing
a path for you. But then Paris was no longer safe, and I had to leave.” His sneer turned into a smirk quickly. “But Badumna was determined to mark your man off of her list and when she heard that he had returned to Colorado and you were here, well, it was too good of a chance to pass up.”
“Why?” she shook her head, not understanding fully.
“Art, my pretty.” His hand dropped to beside her knee. “Some of the pieces I have… collected over the years are very rare.” His eyebrows rose slightly.
“You mean, you’ve stolen them?” Suddenly, everything was clear. All the art Cole and his team had been searching for in Paris. “The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Rembrandt?”
“Yes,” he chuckled. “One of my favorites.”
“You’re the thief?” Realization dawned on her.
“Me?” He balked. “I would never get my hands dirty.” He shook his head in discouragement. “It is surprising how money can get you the things you want in life.”
“But… in Paris, you were an art student.”
“Yes.” He smiled. “Playing with the common people is a hobby of mine. It came as a great surprise to find such a rare gem in the fold.” His hand ran over her face again and she felt her stomach roll.
“Where is the art now?” she asked, her heart soaring at the thought of seeing the missing pieces.
Niccolo chuckled and laid his hand on her knee. “In time, my sweet, in time.”
Just then, the window between them and the driver slid down. “Boss, I think we have company,” the man said, just before the back of the car spun in an odd direction.
Ashley dropped her champagne glass and held onto the seat with both hands as the car spun in circles.
They were on the highway still and she watched in horror as lights flashed around them as the car spun uncontrollably on the dark pavement.
When the car came to a final stop, she was laying on the floor with shards of crystal digging into her hands and knees. Niccolo’s heavier body was pinning her down, keeping her from moving.
When the car door was yanked open, she cried out as Niccolo’s hand wrapped around her upper arm.
