The Prize

by Vanessa Fewings

  “I screamed at her to take me back to you.”

  “Well, she’s not going to stray from her objective, now is she?”

  I closed my eyes in frustration.

  “That’s going to hurt her feelings.”

  “Tobias.” I shoved him. “You will never kiss me again. Do you understand?” I sucked in a sharp breath and stormed away, climbing the grassy bank unsteadily on pointed heels.

  “Technically, you kissed me,” he called out and turned to the drone. “You’re good to go, Jade.”

  Jade’s door closed and she rose off the ground and headed into the park.

  It grew chilly as I waited for Tobias beside his bike. “I’m not getting on this thing.”

  “It’s a Harley. And yes, you are.” He came closer and grabbed the bottom of his jacket I was wearing and zipped it up to seal me inside.

  An annoying whiff of heady cologne wafted up from his jacket, and I stomped my foot in rebellion to the way it made my sex throb for him.

  Tobias lifted the bike’s backseat and brought out a red helmet and handed it to me. He fiddled with my collar to make sure I was snug. “Are you going to play nice?”

  I raised my chin. “I’ve never been on a bike before.”

  “I’m sure you’ve never flown over Manhattan before, either.” He shoved his own helmet over his head and slapped the back of the bike for me to climb on.

  I folded my arms across my chest, refusing.

  Tobias took the spare helmet back from me and eased it over my head and fastened my chin strap. He brought the visor down and curled his knuckles to tap on it playfully as though checking I was still in there.

  He raised his visor. “Move with me. Don’t try to get off when it’s moving. Those are the basics. Got it?”

  I turned my back on the bike.

  “Or you can walk.” He snapped his visor down and climbed on, looking ridiculously hot and masterful as he gripped the handlebars and revved the throttle, roaring the bike to life and hinting he was about to leave without me.

  I huffed my disapproval even though it was pointless and lifted the hem of my dress as I climbed on and snuggled up close to his warm body, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my chest to his back with my thighs squeezed against his. He flinched and reached for my hands to bring them up higher, reminding me of his fight on the rooftop, and it sent a pang of guilt through me for arguing after he’d fought for his life.

  And saved mine.

  Still, this entire spectacle was even more outrageous than the one we’d planned, and I felt let down he’d kept me in the dark. The shock of watching him fall lingered, and I hugged him tighter—as though needing convincing he was okay.

  Wilder kicked off the stand and we zoomed off to race across the park. I was grateful for the jacket. We were shielded by the beautiful trees on either side with their leaves scattered around them in a vision of autumn wonder, and I quietly cursed him for another exhilarating experience as we sped along.

  This was just it; the uncertainty of every moment was what terrified me. I’d dedicated my life to finding a certain safety within museums and galleries where all the danger, all the heartbreak, all the pain, was vicariously lived through the characters in those breathtaking paintings by masters long dead.

  I’d been destined to remain in a cozy office while perusing the contents of manila files to assess a painting’s provenance. Any doubt of its veracity could be settled by nestling in a serene corner of The Courtauld and conducting a series of scientific tests. There, issue solved. Matter dealt with and no safety net required. No “zooming around New York streets on the back of a crazy bike” was in my job description. My grip was so tight around Wilder’s waist I’d be amazed if he could still breathe, and my thighs clung to his.

  Tobias took a sharp turn and I squeezed my eyes shut as we weaved through heavy traffic where cars and cabs vied for space. Even with this helmet on I could hear the cacophony of the city’s buzz. The horns of frustrated drivers and their inevitable squealing breaks, the thrum of people, music and undefined sounds merging to beat as one.

  When we drove into the subterranean garage beneath the Manhattan mansion there came mixed feelings. I was glad to be getting off the bike but sad to break away from him. After removing my helmet and hugging it to my chest, I hurried toward the entry into the house and waited for him to unlock the door.

  I wasn’t ready to look at him.

  I’d sworn off any romance between us on the flight here on his private jet, and yet back in Central Park I’d kissed him passionately and my lips weren’t letting me forget it. They tingled with the lingering sensation of his fierce mouth on mine and his three-day scruff having deliciously scratched my cheeks until they’d flushed with happiness. He’d alighted my passion all over again, and I needed time to suppress these feelings.

  Or I could just surrender this one time and soothe this ache, this desperate need to be taken. All I had to do was make my way to his bedroom and snuggle beneath the covers and wait for him to join me. We’d be together again and gloriously forgetting the pain we’d brought each other.

  No, this wasn’t happening. The truth of who he was ruined me with the potency of an unending nightmare. Icon, the world’s most sophisticated art thief, had brilliantly shown off his impressive set of skills and terrified me—

  Tobias thrived on this exhilaration, I could see it in his eyes after that daredevil stunt he’d just pulled off. A woman like me who lived a careful life, one who savored the sanctity of galleries and museums, would never be enough for a man like him. Not after this overdose of terror had left me dizzy and disorientated.

  I placed my helmet on the foyer table and ripped off my blond wig and threw it next to it. My auburn locks tumbled over my shoulders as I made my way into the drawing room. Shaking from the cold, I neared the fireplace and held up my palms to draw the warmth from the fading fire. I made a mental note to chastise him later for having a hearth burning near these wonderful paintings.

  I pined for the life I’d lost, for the illusion of love that had been fleeting. I ached to return to London where I could do all those things I’d taken for granted.

  Staying in this house put off the inevitable. We were going to get caught and dragged into a humiliating ordeal in a courtroom where our private lives would become public knowledge.

  The door creaked open but I refused to even look his way.

  There was a blur of movement as it swung farther out. I sucked in a breath of surprise at the brown teddy bear with cute ears sticking up that was taking short steps toward me. I let out a burst of laughter at the creature’s sweetness. He was all pert ears, big brown eyes and cuddly belly; an adorable hologram convincingly real.

  Tobias had rigged this room to create this. I should be angry but I was too damn tired. Too shaken.

  Tobias came in and stared down at the bear. “There you are, Beasley.”

  I gave a thin smile and my heart ached that we couldn’t be this—him inventing cute critters and me enjoying them with no complications between us.

  Tobias came over. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I said even as I slid into a forced smile at the way Beasley had stopped at my feet and was staring up with those big soulful eyes. The illusion would be broken if I knelt and swept my hand to expose this holographic bear.

  “Want to talk?” Tobias glanced down at Beasley.

  “I’m...” I was feeling lost but didn’t want to let him see my vulnerability.

  “Listen, about tonight—”

  “You scared the hell out of me.”

  He let out a sigh of frustration. “I’ve been doing this a lot longer.”

  “I know.”

  “I shouldn’t have taken you with me.”

  “I’m trying to take back some control here, Tobias. It’s what I need.”

&
nbsp; “I respect you feel this way.” He mulled over it. “If anything happens to you—”

  “I want in to your world. No more secrets.”

  “We must agree on one principle.”

  “Which is?”

  “You don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

  My back stiffened. “Risks?”

  “You trust me completely.”

  “Give me full access to control Jade.” If he was going to ever utilize his drone or his artificial-intelligence system again, I wanted in on my ability to use her.

  “Zara, you’ve had access since you stepped inside this place.”

  I considered his willingness to open up and hoped it would last.

  “We got Burell’s fingerprints,” he added cheerfully. “Mission accomplished.”

  “It better be worth it.”

  “I’ll use them to hack his computer.”

  “Start talking.”

  “I believe your paintings are in New York.”

  “That’s why you had your jet bring us here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  He hesitated and his gaze swept over the portraits. “I don’t know yet.”

  A wave of frustration saturated my senses. “Burell knows we’re here now.”

  “We need to stay one step ahead of him—”

  “Did they see your parachute?”

  He shrugged. “They can’t track us but I can them.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “I have a mechanism that allows me to track their movements—”

  “Where is it?”

  Tobias gave a nod of reluctance. “Go on, Beasley. Lead the way.”

  Beasley’s little legs carried him over the Persian rug toward the far wall and he stared up at the life-size panel of Henry the III of France. An innocuous 1570 portrait of the young king by artist François Clouet. The artist captured the image of a young man with a black cap and feather curling to the right and a high ruffled collar, his majesty’s insightful expression fused with his suspicious gaze carrying the weight of retrospect.

  Beasley disappeared as he walked into the wall and my attention rose to the painting. Henry had been mistaken for his younger brother Francis of Alençon in the past—though on further inspection the inscription on the back of the paintings usually rectified this. I knew the positioning of such a canvas in here was no coincidence.

  “Welcome to my man cave.” Tobias strolled over and tapped the corner of King Henry’s frame and it popped away from the wall. His fingers folded around the edge and he pulled it the rest of the way to reveal a doorway. “No more secrets.”

  I walked forward and peered through at the dimly lit hallway; this secrecy reminded me of the last few weeks where our interactions had unfolded like a wild affair played out in an elaborate game. He was clearly analyzing my reaction to what he was showing me. With him there were always layers of truths and it made me wonder if I’d ever get to the center of his authentic self. Perhaps I was destined to peel away and never actually find him. The way his stare assessed mine reminded me of his analytical nature and his brilliant mind that was always one step ahead.

  A trap within a trap?

  Two enemies were fighting it out with me caught in the middle like a shuttlecock, because I was the true owner of one of the greatest collections of art. My worth was my provenance stashed away in London and there was a treasure trove of paperwork to prove the authentication of those priceless pieces. I’d placed those papers in a safety-deposit box before leaving for Los Angeles. When those papers were handed over to Tobias what would my worth be then?

  “If this is going to work—” his fingers curled around the frame “—there can be no more secrets between us.” He let the quiet settle. “We need to prove our allegiance to each other.”

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  “I feel you pulling away—”

  “What do you want?” My words were razor sharp.

  “Tell me they haven’t stolen you from me, as well?” He reached up to cup my face with his palm and I closed my eyes as a part of me craved for his touch to linger.

  He’d suffered terribly too and maybe he wasn’t showing me how all this was affecting him so he could be strong for me. Still, he was Icon and my greatest weakness. I couldn’t get those paintings back without him. He was the only one with the resources, the technology and the seeming death wish, willing to see through the maze between me and getting them back. These masterpieces deserved to be appreciated and adored and they belonged to the people.

  They belonged to my father’s memory.

  Yet the sacrifice to get them back was asking so very much of us.

  His thumb brushed over my bottom lip as though getting my attention back on him, and I let out a soft sigh of appeasement and his pupils dilated and his jaw tensed. I could see the fire alighting in his eyes as the rawest passion sparked between us. This danger stirred my intuition, warning that beyond this clandestine hallway lurked an endless array of Icon’s possessions I wasn’t ready to be shown.

  Pivoting away from him, moving swiftly across the room toward the door as this dread of the unknown took hold. His footfalls hurried behind me but I kept going, unsteady on high heels that were leading me toward the fresh air I needed even if the sting of the cold night was inevitable.

  Tobias intercepted me and I ran right into his chest. His back slammed against the front door he was guarding. He reached up and gripped my shoulders.

  “Let go.”

  He freed me and his arms rose in surrender. “You want into my world but you won’t even let me into your thoughts.” He narrowed his gaze. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “They’ll find you.”

  This was the cruelest truth of all because just weeks ago it would have been Tobias I’d have run to when my heart fractured into a thousand pieces, and yet there came the haunting sense he could be tricking me and his end game was still to be realized. Wisps of my naivety remained and yet I’d seen too much. The veil had lifted and I’d glimpsed a formidable facet of Wilder, the side of him that knowingly broke the law and yet did it for all the right reasons.

  Or had I merely believed what I’d wanted to see?

  Even as his lips brushed over my shoulder blade and followed the curve of my throat I yearned to feel how I once did when he’d soothed me with his affection.

  Fighting this, fighting me, I needed him to remember my insistence back in Central Park that he never kiss me again. If his mouth met mine he’d persuade me to stay. Once, back when my life was simpler, I’d believed in our dazzling passion and had fallen for the promise that being love-struck equaled being safe.

  “Zara, where are you?” Tobias’s gaze deepened as he tried to penetrate my thoughts.

  They were still mine, at least.

  There came a rush of exhilaration when he yanked me forward and lifted me into his arms and carried me up the staircase and along the hallway. He kicked a door open and carried me in and lay me on the large bed. Grabbing the heavy duvet beneath me, I rolled over and scrambled across it but his strong hands wrapped around my ankles and dragged me back toward him.

  I stilled and watched him because some part of me needed this intimacy to nudge out of the loneliness. Wilder kept his intense stare locked on me as he worked his way down his shirt, unbuttoning it and then peeling it off to reveal a ripped torso. There were a few emerging bruises on his rib cage, marking his fight on the skyscraper and relighting my sympathy. He kept his trousers and shoes on, maybe to reassure me he wasn’t going to do anything more.

  What I needed was to start over to the time before him and not allow myself to fall for this dazzling, dynamic man who stunned with his heart-stopping commanding presence. The bed dipped when he climbed on and he loomed over me and grabb
ed my wrists and raised them to pin them over my head and onto the mattress.

  “Tobias?” I whispered.

  “I won’t kiss you.” His gaze slid to my mouth in contradiction. “I promise.”

  Specs of gold glistened in his irises and I could see beyond the safeguard of his reckless beauty as I saw a flash of vulnerability that I’d never seen before. This was him letting me in and I clung to the hope this was real and something I could hold on to.

  He looked sincere. “Zara, I have to think one step ahead because you’re more important than any painting. This is me protecting you.”

  His kiss would be lethal if I let it happen and I turned my head away, grasping at these remnants of restraint not to fall.

  “Lift your dress.” He let go of my wrists.

  This wasn’t going to happen, no. I wasn’t going to scrunch my satin skirt like I was doing now and hitch it up over my hips as though his words alone could elicit a Svengali response. Yet my fingers hooked beneath my panties and eased them down my hips and then I raised them slightly until my underwear was down my thighs, and calves, and then off my body. I hugged my panties to my chest, too awed by his devastating presence to think straight.

  “Higher.”

  I dragged my teeth over my bottom lip, trying to anchor to this moment by distracting myself and not losing myself in him—my hands lifted my dress higher for him.

  Wilder positioned himself between my thighs and with his eyes locked on mine he said huskily, “You didn’t say anything about kissing you here.”

  The shake of my head in agreement was my consent and I reached for his left bicep and ran my hand over his ornate tattoo in admiration of its artistry—

  I eased my thighs apart.

  He dipped his head until his hair tickled my inner thighs and he moved my hands away and kissed my sex, and then his tongue ran along and he captured my clit with his mouth, thrumming me with the proficiency I’d become addicted to. My arousal intensified, rising higher, and my body writhed with the rhythm of his tongue, the shuddering revealing how spellbound I’d became as he possessed me with blinding pleasure. My moan echoed as he gripped my wrists and held them to my sides as he continued to ravage me, propelling me into the center of bliss until I forgot how to breathe.