The Prize

by Vanessa Fewings

  Everything that mattered was focused in my core like an erotic spell cast to destroy me.

  Yes, destroy me.

  “I want you inside me,” I pleaded.

  “If I fuck you, I’ll have to kiss you and that will mean I’ve broken my promise.” Tobias climbed off the bed and it dipped as he stepped away.

  I rolled onto my side and brought up my legs and hugged myself, too consumed with these emotions that ensnared me and left me starving for him. This wouldn’t do. This infatuation was going to destroy me.

  “Zara?” his voice beckoned.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, needing a moment to catch my breath.

  “Come with me downstairs and let me make you some food,” he offered as he pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  His fingers brushed strands of hair out of my eyes. “I can make you tea.”

  “It’s too late for caffeine.”

  “I want to show you the house. Give you the grand tour.”

  “There’s no need because I’m not staying.”

  “Zara,” he soothed as he played with a lock of my hair. “You don’t want to see my grandmother’s Bellini collection?”

  I peeked out from my palms covering my face and my chest prickled with intrigue. “Giovanni Bellini?”

  He gave a gentle smile. “Yes.”

  “Here?”

  “I want to show it to you.” He headed into the wardrobe and came back out with a chenille sweater. “This place gets cold at night.”

  I pushed myself up and dangled my legs over the bed and raised my arms and let him pull it over me. I shivered into the warmth of the softness that fit perfectly over my dress. “Whose is this?” I helped tug it down.

  “Yours. I had clothes sent here for both of us.”

  I swallowed past the uneasiness of this revelation. Still, he was luring me with the promise of Bellini and the thought of it made my body quiver. No, silly, I reasoned, it was the way he’d just kissed me—where he’d kissed me—that was tingling deliciously even now.

  He reached out and took my hand and led me along the hallway and around the corner, and I felt petite beside him and a little calmer from the way he’d lulled me.

  He paused before a beautifully carved oak door. “This was my grandma’s room.”

  “Were you close?”

  Tobias looked thoughtful. “I spent a few winters here. Edward, my second cousin, and I would play together.” He stared off. “So many memories.”

  “Good ones?”

  “Really good.” But he frowned as though something had disrupted his train of thought.

  “Where is your cousin now?”

  “Not sure. Probably off hiking in Kathmandu or scuba diving in Bali. Edward’s a marine biologist. He’s always off on one adventure or another.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  He mulled over this. “Ten years, I think.”

  “You must contact him. You need to see him again.”

  “Yes, I should. When all this is over perhaps.”

  “Why did you lose touch?”

  “It was my fault. I became obsessed with my work...”

  My heart ached for him as I realized his heroic deeds had distanced him from his family.

  I reached for the handle. “Can I go in?”

  He seemed to rise from a daydream as he opened the door for me. “Of course.”

  This beautiful bedroom had been respectfully preserved with a large four-poster bed in the center and hardwood floors over which a red Persian rug was strewn. To the left sat a white antique vanity with an oval mirror that had slightly faded and a high-backed chair positioned before it. My gaze swept the walls that were adorned with Italian Renaissance artist Giovanni Bellini’s paintings. There were so many of them and they all hung unevenly. Yet it gave the room an unpretentious feel and revealed the classic taste of a woman who’d once lived here.

  My gaze settled on a portrait of a young man in a simple frame, and the sitter’s long fair hair and his garb indicated he was most likely a senator who’d commissioned the portrait to add a touch of status to his profession. I continued to wander and admire Bellini’s exquisite paintings. Most of them were religious themed and reflected how he’d revolutionized Venetian painting with rich colors and sumptuous settings and a technique for realism that had even inspired Titian.

  I let out a sigh of happiness, as though Bellini himself had reached out and soothed me with his authenticity.

  “Feel better?” Tobias asked.

  “Yes, much. Thank you.”

  His kindness felt like a lifeline and I loved seeing his gentle side when he let down his guard. He looked around the room and breathed out a sigh of wonder, hinting he was tempering his emotions. I sensed he’d been close to his grandmother.

  “What a beautiful room.”

  “My casa is your casa.” He sat on the edge of the bed and watched me walk around. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “You own this house now?”

  “Yes, she left Edward a manor on Bodmin Moor.”

  “Cornwall? That’s wonderful. Though a little isolated.”

  “Yes, he should have gotten this place and me the manor. Still, who’s complaining, right?”

  “If you lived in Bodmin you’d be isolated.”

  He held my stare. “I know.”

  “You’d be lonely?”

  “I’m well acquainted with...” He waved off that thought. “The quiet helps me to think.”

  Which was something he probably told himself to bear the agony of it.

  I stepped forward and took his hands in mine and squeezed them, and he gave a nod to show his appreciation.

  “Your grandmother was very generous.”

  Tobias brought my hand to his lips and kissed my wrist. “She was everything that was good in this world. She would have loved you.”

  “Which side of the family?”

  “Mom’s.”

  “Was she religious?”

  He glanced at the artwork. “How did you guess?”

  “You were close?”

  “She was like a second mom to me.” He broke my gaze. “Grandma Rose used to take us to the Metropolitan Museum whenever I visited.”

  “How wonderful.”

  He swallowed hard. “After the plane crash my uncle decided to hide me away. He wanted to protect me and I suppose he was trying to protect other members of my family, as well.”

  “So you were separated from everyone? Even your grandmother?”

  “Fabienne thought it was best.”

  “You missed her?”

  “Every time I saw Edward I was reminded of her. Reminded of what was stolen from me...” Tobias’s eyelids flickered as though only now realizing this was why he’d willingly lost touch with him. “It was easier to pretend I had no family. For a long time that’s how it was for me.”

  “How do you feel about being back here?”

  “I wish she was here. There’s so much that was unsaid.”

  “Are you okay to stay?”

  “Yes, with you this place feels different.” He leaned toward me and his lips came close, and then he pulled away as he seemed to remember. “Want to see the library?”

  “I’d love to.”

  We made our way out and down the central staircase, through the foyer and along a hallway with remarkably well-preserved Art Deco wallpaper.

  “What’s down there?” I pointed.

  “The old staff quarters.” He followed my gaze. “I took those rooms because it’s quieter.”

  “I’m pretty quiet.”

  “I meant—”

  “More isolated?”

  “There’s a gym and I wanted you to feel comfortable
to have the rest of the house.”

  “What about your bedroom?”

  “I want you to have it.”

  Another wave of nervousness came over me as I took in this foreign place, wondering how I’d gotten here.

  He frowned. “Do you regret coming here with me?”

  “It was all very fast.” I mean, we’d lifted off the roof of The Wilder Museum in his helicopter and caught his jet right after. There’d been no time to discuss the plan or consider the fallout of leaving so abruptly. “You know the FBI suspects me too.”

  “They know you’re a wrong fit for the MO. You were studying at The Courtauld Institute of Art and a quick cross-reference would prove you were probably attending a lecture or some other event when those other heists went down. They scared you to get to Icon.”

  “It worked.”

  His back stiffened. “We’re one step ahead of them.”

  I turned to face him wary of what might come next because if there was one thing I knew it was some people kept their enemies close.

  “Hopefully you’ll be able to catch your breath here. Time can stand still in this place. Much of the decor is original. I want to keep it this way. Although I made a few adjustments to bring it into the twenty-first century.”

  Behind that door offered another glimpse into Tobias’s past.

  “Libraries have a way of beckoning,” he said. “Lead the way.”

  The room was curved and all four walls were stacked with books upon mahogany shelves and the lighting was too soft for reading because several bulbs had gone out. In the corner was a burgundy chaise lounge and I wondered if his grandmother had liked to sit there and read.

  “I’d bring my toys in here,” he admitted, and his face brightened as though remembering.

  “With your cousin?”

  He gave a nod and pulled down a small book from a shelf and handed it to me.

  “Winnie-the-Pooh?” I beamed at him. “You read this?”

  “Yes, but we had to be very careful because it’s signed by the author.”

  In amazement I read the inscription by A. A. Milne, who’d also been a playwright before writing his famous children’s books. “This is adorable.”

  “See, my childhood wasn’t all bad.”

  I smiled, appreciating him wanting to soften his past.

  “I’ll swap out the bulbs for you,” he said. “I don’t tend to come in here.”

  “Tobias, I have to call Abby.” I hadn’t mentioned her until now but we’d settled here a little and I hoped he’d let me call her. He had my phone somewhere, and so far I’d not come across a landline. I couldn’t bear to think of my colleagues back at Huntly Pierre believing I’d abandoned them with no thought of the consequences.

  He closed the book and slid it back. “Not yet.”

  “When, then?”

  “Do you want to see the rest of the house?”

  “Not right now.”

  “You’re right. It’s been a long day.” He headed for the door and opened it for me. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

  “How long will we be here?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I can find my own way back. I’d like to stay in here awhile.”

  He gave a nod and turned to go before hesitating in the doorway. “I’ve got this, Zara. I’ve got you.” He turned to face me as though needing to see I believed him.

  After managing a nod, I watched him leave.

  I felt like running away from LA was the worst mistake of my life. This dread of having let everyone down clung to my chest like deadwood. Returning my gaze to the row of children’s books I knew this house would reveal even more secrets of who Tobias was and maybe I’d get to discover them if I was brave enough to stay.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I HADN’T SEEN Tobias since he’d left me alone in the library.

  I’d dreamed all night long and woken up with the East Coast sun glaring between the blinds to jolt me back to the reality of the mess my life was in. This was not how I was meant to be starting a Thursday morning. No, I was meant to be getting ready for work and heading in for a job I loved.

  Barefoot and wearing one of Wilder’s T-shirts and nothing else, I padded downstairs to the front door and tried the handle. It wouldn’t give and there was no key. At the back of the house the door appeared impressively modern with no lock which meant there’d be no access to the large garden that I could see through the window.

  Trust had always been an issue for me.

  I’d told myself it was first broken when my boyfriend Zach ran off with Natalia Donate, but when I dared to peer back further the truth was more painful. It was probably that car crash that took my mom from me that planted a seed for a life of fear. Even though I was too young to remember being strapped in the car seat at the time of her careening off when a drunk driver hit her.

  Holding on, holding back, was the only way I knew how to survive.

  I made my way back upstairs.

  The hot shower warmed my bones and I reassured myself that this and a nice cup of tea would make me feel a little better. Heading out of the bathroom en suite, I stopped in the doorway to see the wardrobe was open. Inside I found a row of brand-new clothes hanging with their labels still on. In a corner were neatly staged female shoes of every kind from heels to sportswear. On the central aisle were more boxes and these were embossed on the top with Saks Fifth Avenue. When I explored them, I found new underwear. I was pleasantly surprised and a little unnerved to find everything was in my size. Either Tobias had gone out shopping or more likely he had someone working for him. I wondered if whoever they were knew we were here.

  I put on the pretty lace underwear and after a few minutes had dressed in the Levi’s jeans and Ralph Lauren sweater to tame the chill of this big house. I chose a pair of navy blue pumps that were comfy.

  A hunch told me Tobias was in his man cave. I headed downstairs for the drawing room with the Persian rug and the panel of King Henry the III of France. With a tap the corner frame snapped away from the wall and I eased it the rest of the way.

  There was a steel door at the end of the hallway and I remembered our conversation last night about him returning my access to his AI system.

  “Jade, open the door.” My command sounded calmer than I felt.

  The door behind me slammed shut.

  There came a hissing noise like pressure being released and the chrome door before me opened. I exhaled a shaky breath of wariness and peered down at a long metal ramp leading off into the dimness. The passionate voice of a tenor singing opera carried and I recognized Luciano Pavarotti’s powerful “Nessun Dorma.” This space went deep underground and from the street level I’d never have imagined this existed. I guessed that was the point for a secret man cave.

  And what a cave it was—

  At the end of the ramp I stared in awe at the enormous NASA-styled workshop packed with see-through monitors and high-concept technology devices like the glass screens with what looked like calculations written on them. Chrome benches were stacked with electronic gadgets, and strewn here and there were discarded fine tools hinting he was in the middle of making something or fixing it. This ultimate tech cave contradicted the old-world feel of the mansion above that was all classic decor and homey elegance.

  Over Pavarotti’s voice came a strange noise and I followed it, strolling in between the benches and glancing here and there to get a feel for what he was doing down here. This had to be where he spent his time inventing for his company TechRule. A wave of melancholy hit me when I imagined he might have to give it up if he ever got caught for his past sins.

  Halfway down a hallway I paused to peer in at a room with a central console positioned to face five large flat screens secured to the wall. They were flashing a series of maps taken from a satellite. I recognized the aerial vie
w of New York rotating through live images. I wondered if he had a similar one set up in LA.

  Continuing down I found Wilder.

  His face was covered by a long mask and he was directing a welding torch at the base of a large drone hanging five feet in the air, and it was the same one that had carried me off to Central Park last night.

  Fine sparks glittered at the point where his torch met the base. The drone was suspended midair with wires strategically wrapped to hang it from the ceiling, allowing access on all sides. Other than Tobias’s black jeans, he was bare chested and barefoot. His forearms were covered in long suede gloves smudged with grime and his well-toned torso was spotted in perspiration and ridiculously well-defined. His left shoulder tattoo shimmered beneath the soft yellow light and his pants were low enough to provide a glimpse of the inked Latin inscription trailing off beneath his belt. Those bruises on his torso were even more defined now.

  “Hey,” I called out.

  The torch shut off and Tobias raised his visor. “Music down, Jade.” He dragged his forearm along his brow to wipe the perspiration. “How’d you sleep?”

  “I’m locked in?”

  He set his torch on the table behind him.

  “You’ve rigged this place so I can’t get out.”

  “We have everything we need.” He pulled his gloves off and threw them aside.

  “Seriously?”

  Tobias pulled his mask all the way off and placed it next to the torch. “Our security is designed to keep people out. The kind we don’t want entering while we sleep. And while I’m down here I can’t watch over you.” He smiled to reassure me.

  “I can leave?”

  “Why would you?”

  When I showed uncertainty it triggered something protective in him and he got amorous. The last thing I needed was his mouth on me. Seeing him half-naked and annoyingly competent with his power tool was stirring an inconvenient arousal.

  I wanted to kiss him hard. “Let’s talk about boundaries.”

  “Sure.”

  I became aware of my erect nipples betraying me through the sweater and folded my arms across my chest. “It’s cold down here.” I threw in a shiver.