The Prize

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The Prize Page 8

by Vanessa Fewings


  “You’re aroused, Leighton.”

  “This is not arousal. This is something completely different.”

  “I’m intrigued.” He whispered something in French and it sounded dirty.

  With indignation, I bit down on his bottom lip to punish his arrogance and then plunged my tongue against his, savaging his mouth with the fiercest kiss, taking my power back and working my mouth into a frenzy over his. At the same time I was annoyed with his incorrigible unshaven brashness that cranked up his sexiness, his scruff scraping my cheeks and sending me over—

  He wasn’t kissing back.

  Oh, God, how embarrassing. I’d attacked him with full-on lust and my calf was still wrapped around his, holding him fixed against me. He’d revved me to the point of coming with merely his body crushed against mine. Letting my guard down was insanity with those perilous men in the same building. I hated Tobias for encouraging me to like any of this, and the loosening of my grip was accompanied by a proud expression of defiance as I nudged him away.

  “That was all you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across mine in a tease and stepped back. “Just so we’re clear.”

  I flicked a phantom stray hair out of my face. “We should leave.”

  “I agree. The cameras are due to come back on.” He tucked the envelope into his jacket and led me out the doorway leading to the foyer.

  We remained vigilant all the way back to the car parked across the street.

  Once inside, I pulled my seat belt across my chest, relieved when Tobias drove us away from the Silver Center. I glanced back to make sure we weren’t being followed. My body was still thrumming from my one-way kiss, and I tried to forget how incredible he felt when pressed against me, how firm and protective, how amazing we fit together. This self-imposed Wilder ban was the cruelest torture of all and my body was still yearning for him.

  Tobias glanced over at me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I peeked inside the beige envelope and saw nothing.

  He gave a nod. “A clue they’ll find during the authentication process of the canvas.”

  Squinting inside it I saw the tiny hair. “From a paintbrush?”

  Occasionally they were discovered between layers of paint on a canvas and were very often overlooked by the human eye. I was stupefied to be looking at a hair plucked from one of Leonardo da Vinci’s paintbrushes.

  “It had already fallen off the brush.” He glanced at me. “I promise.”

  “Still.”

  “I don’t doubt its sanctity.” Which was his way of saying this was hard on him too.

  “Why do you need it?” But I already knew Tobias would insert it into the wet paint upon the canvas he was planning on creating. This fine hair would add a dash of authenticity when Elliot’s specialists performed their analysis to his painting.

  If his idea advanced that far.

  “There’s no other way.” He glanced over at me. “Only a painting will be taken to his vault.”

  I focused beyond the window as we turned left on Washington Square, peering up at the skyscraper that made me feel insignificant when set against such a dramatic landscape. It made me wonder if someone like me could ever make a difference.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TOBIAS WAS REASONABLE at least, and this thought brought comfort as I entered his workshop carrying him a freshly brewed mug of hot tea and a plate of Hobnob biscuits as a peace offering.

  The Rolling Stones—“Start Me Up”—was playing loudly and the room was frigid, proving he’d cranked up the air-conditioning. He was probably using it to ward me off and not disrupt his shenanigans, because he knew how much I hated the cold.

  He sat on a bar stool at one of his workbenches and his gaze zeroed in on a large screen on the wall in front of him, where a program was cycling different paintings and sketches by Leonardo da Vinci.

  His gaze lowered to his smaller drone, Jade, positioned on the bench to his right. Between them lay a chessboard half-played. Tobias reached for one of the pieces and moved it over the black and white checkers. My jaw dropped when one of Jade’s metal arms reached out and lifted a knight from his end of the board up and over Tobias’s piece.

  “Hey, guys,” I said cheerfully. “I brought you tea.”

  Tobias spun round and beamed a big smile when he saw the biscuits. “I’m winning.”

  “Against Jade?”

  He flashed a dangerous smile. “Music down, Jade.”

  I handed him his mug and then pointed to the screen. “That’s going fast.”

  He reached for a biscuit. “I’m inputting data into Jade’s software.” He held the Hobnob between his teeth to free his hand so he could pat her.

  I placed the plate near him. “How are you?”

  “Good. Starving. You have perfect timing.”

  “Why is Jade processing that information?”

  He lifted his bishop and waved it in front of Jade. “Yeah, you better be scared. I was going easy on you before.”

  “How can you stand those images going so fast?”

  “It’s relaxing. It’s everything that exists related to Leonardo da Vinci.” He glanced at the screen. “Jade has a fast processor.”

  “Are you dragging her into your scheming?”

  “She’s going to mimic Leonardo’s technique.”

  “You mean his sfumato technique?”

  He smiled with appreciation. “Evaporated brushstrokes providing transitions imperceptible to the human eye and thus creating a living breathing woman upon a canvas.”

  I placed my hands on my hips. “You really believe you can create a painting as magnificent as Leonardo’s?”

  “He knew science and transferred that awareness into what he created. I’m relighting his consciousness in a way.”

  I drew in a breath of disbelief.

  Tobias focused back on me. “How else would we paint her?”

  “I’m not sure you’d get his blessing.”

  “Perhaps when the work is done...”

  I wasn’t in the mood for existential conversations. “I know you admire him.”

  “He inspired me to become an inventor.”

  “How old were you when you saw your first da Vinci?”

  “He seemed like he was always there.” Tobias sighed with wonder. “Great tea, Zara. How about you? When did you first see da Vinci’s work?” He reached for his jacket and stepped forward to wrap it around my shoulders.

  “Thank you.” I pulled it around me to ward off the chill. “The Virgin of the Rocks, my dad hung her in the drawing room.” I shook my head as I tried to fathom she was still out there somewhere.

  Tobias finished his biscuit and reached for another. “How long does it take for the auction houses to train its specialists in the old masters?”

  “About six years.”

  “Yet you’re the consummate expert.”

  “That’s very flattering.”

  “We both know you have an uncanny knack.”

  “I had a head start with my dad.”

  “You have a unique gift. You’re an endangered species, Zara. The collectors are turning away from the old masters and are focusing instead on contemporary art.”

  “They’re wrong to turn away from the true masters.”

  “I agree.” He gave a warm smile. “We had over 150 thousand visitors to The Wilder last year. Attendance remains at an all-time high with the public. The people see the value in our past. They get it. There’s no greed with them. No selfishness.” He stared past me. “Back at The Wilder, I like to walk among the guests and see their faces when they stroll through the museum. They have no idea who I am. And they don’t need to say anything at all because their expressions of wonder restore my faith in humanity.”

  Damn him and his romanticism that wooed me. I tried not
to get sucked into the version of Wilder I’d fallen for. “How will it work?” I pointed to the three-dimensional printer.

  “I’ll break down the components of a canvas—” He walked over to a microscope and stared down at the slide beneath. “Then I’ll create a blueprint that adds in what we’d expect to find in the aging process of a painting from the sixteenth century. Paint pigments change over time and they’re sensitive to ultraviolet. As you know.”

  “So you’ll factor in the scientists’ ability to break down a paint sample?”

  “Yes, I’m obviously aware there should be no modern colors.”

  “Where would we obtain the paints?”

  He gave a crooked smile.

  “You, I meant you.”

  “I have my sources.” He pointed to a tall chrome machine. “The data will be analyzed by the printer and then I’ll utilize this to create our masterpiece. Pretty simple, really.”

  It didn’t sound simple and I again wondered at the ease of which Tobias jumped from the science side of his brain to the arty side just like his hero Leonardo da Vinci.

  Tobias carried his mug over to the printer. “I’ve developed an improved system that integrates oxygen. It’s a fine balance. Oxygen can be an issue as it hardens the resin, so I have to keep it away from the chemicals.”

  I folded my arms in a stance I hoped would exude reluctance.

  He took another sip of tea. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m still not sure about any of this.”

  Tobias pushed off away from the table. “We must focus on the prize.” He held my stare for the longest time. “Retrieving your paintings as quickly as possible and transporting them to the National Gallery in London...” He went to say something else and changed his mind.

  “What?”

  “This afternoon I’m going to teach you a few tricks of the trade.”

  “What tricks?”

  “The skills to defend yourself. You demanded your way into my world. Well, here you are. Buckle up.”

  “What kind?”

  “Entry without observation. Camera interference. Running the fuck away from danger happens to be my all-time fave. If you still insist on being there when I extract your paintings.”

  “I should be there, right?”

  “I’m working on something that would mean you don’t have to be present when the retrieval of our paintings goes down.”

  “You mean involving other people in this?” Because there were so many paintings and one man couldn’t handle them all.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then how else would you get them out?”

  “I’ll be inventive. It’s what I do.”

  A stark memory crashed into my thoughts. “How long have you had this plan?”

  “What plan?”

  “When we were in the Burells’ house in Arizona we were caught in Eli’s mechanism and in there was a design inspired by da Vinci. The one that descended into their safe. Eli was using it to trap us further. What are you not telling me?”

  “Every self-respecting art collector has a thing for Leonardo.”

  “Tobias?”

  He broke my gaze.

  “Why do I have this feeling you’re not telling me something?”

  He let out a frustrated sigh. “I may have outbid his dad a few times at legit auctions when we both went after the same piece of art by Leonardo da Vinci.”

  “Have you been riling him up for years?”

  “There may have been some healthy teasing.”

  “After what he did to you?”

  “I was waiting for the grand finale.”

  “As Icon?” I stomped my foot. “How dare you suck me into this. Getting Burell’s fingerprints was one thing—”

  “Are you with me or against me, Leighton?”

  The moment of truth. Was I willing to go all the way with Icon and take the final leap? “Don’t lower to their standard.”

  “Everything I have ever done has been for the sake of humanity.” His voice remained steady. “I’ve never once stolen for my own gain. My personal collection was obtained legally.”

  Confliction washed over me again.

  If I stay I’ll be colluding with Icon.

  I leaned on the back of a swivel chair and gripped the edge.

  “Do you think this is easy for me?” He gestured his frustration. “Being trapped in this house with the woman who I was in a relationship with and now you won’t even let me touch you?”

  “We weren’t in a relationship.”

  “Really? Because that’s what it felt like to me.”

  Yes, we’d shared something special but I’d turned away from a love that I’d never recover from if I let it in. My body yearned for him and yet as I turned to look away I felt this familiar pull toward him.

  “So the silent treatment has returned?” He headed up the ramp. “Excuse me while I take a break.”

  “I won’t let you do this,” I called after him.

  He jolted to a stop. “It will help us get our lives back. There is no other way.”

  “It feels wrong. Even if no one will know.”

  He paused and kept his back to me. “I should have just gone ahead and dealt with this.”

  “Is this some kind of twisted revenge on me? Because if it wasn’t for my interference nothing would have changed for you. You’d still be anonymous. You’d still be the almighty Icon.”

  “You don’t believe that? Tell me you don’t. Not after I’ve sacrificed my life’s work to put your life right.”

  I sucked in a breath at his confession.

  Until now he’d played down the damage I’d inflicted on him. Had I not flown out to LA, had I let this go and let the experts tackle this, perhaps we’d both have some peace at least. My stubbornness to see this resolved had landed me in a strange city with a man who had only begun to open up. Perhaps I was only seeing what he wanted me to see.

  “Zara, what do I need to do to convince you how much I care about you?”

  “I see you doing this—” I snapped a hand to the screen “—and I’m filled with doubt.”

  “Doubt?” He stormed back down the ramp toward me. “What am I to you really? A means to an end? I know I’m the only way for you to get your paintings back but what about afterward, Leighton, what happens when this is over?”

  “In what way?”

  He looked devastated. “Us?”

  Us, the impossible dream that had never been a true possibility, an illusion of romance with the backdrop of our mutual adoration of art. Yet my body and soul told me we were meant for each other even if my mind doubted.

  I raised my chin high. “Don’t call me Leighton.”

  His expression softened as he slipped behind that familiar iciness. “It makes it easier.” He whispered it to himself as he turned and headed up the ramp for the door.

  With him out of sight, I slumped into a swivel chair and cupped my hands over my face as if it would help. I should have told him what he meant to me, should have shared my feelings, but I had to protect my heart. All I had to guide me was this quiet inner voice warning me to hold on and not burn up in his brightness.

  The world was hunting for Icon and it had been my job to stop him. Yet here I was bringing him mugs of tea and offering biscuits like an eccentric Brit.

  After fifteen minutes of staring at the screen, mesmerized by the complex drawings by da Vinci and amazed Tobias’s drone was absorbing the information, I felt that same annoying awe for Tobias. Maybe he was right, maybe he could pull this off, and maybe using Burell’s greed was the only way to finish this.

  I went in search of Tobias, hoping to find the words that would lift the tension. At the south end of the house I heard shoes hitting a treadmill at full speed. The sound led me into the tricked-out g
ym with its rowing machine, weights and the treadmill Tobias was running on at full pelt. In front of him was a mirror covering the entire wall. He’d changed into a T-shirt, track pants and snazzy-looking Nikes and he had earbuds in. He was all primal perfection as he ran on the belt.

  I waited for him to notice me.

  Tobias’s eyes met mine and then returned to his reflection in front of him. I deserved that, I suppose. My outburst had been infused with emotion born from my fear of everything imploding around us, and on top of all of this the thought of losing him. Only I’d not told him this or given him the chance to see how much I cared about him.

  This is more than that...

  He pressed a button on the panel and sprinted flat out and my heart skipped a beat at the vision of his well-toned athletic form and he didn’t even look out of breath. The only hint of exertion was a trail of perspiration soaking his shirt.

  Eventually, after ten minutes of pounding hard he punched the control panel again and slowed the machine to a walk, taking long strides with those lean legs as he cooled down from his run. I’d strolled around the gym, pretending to be interested in the weights and then the rowing machine and trying not to ogle the eye candy in the corner.

  Tobias stopped the treadmill and stepped off.

  “We need to talk.” I folded my arms across my chest so I’d be ready for him.

  “Sure. Anything for you. You know that.” His smile softened the moment.

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I’ll come find you.” He dragged a small towel around his shoulders and walked right past me and through a doorway as he eased out his earbuds. I followed him into a bathroom. It was decorated simply with an upscale elegance and at the far end displayed a gorgeously designed giant open-plan shower.

  Tobias placed his iPod down and then peeled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes and socks and paused when he came to his track bottoms. “You might want to step out for this part.”

  “It’s not like I’ve not seen you naked before.” I swept my hand like it was nothing, instantly regretting my nonchalance when he tugged down his trousers and then underwear and stepped out of them to stand to his full height, staring at me with his beautiful sculptured body shimmering in perspiration with his cock half-erect. Those bruises looked sore.

 

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