A wave of exhilaration.
His lips brushed close to mine. “It’s just in and out, Zara.”
The pressure of his cock now placed perfectly at my groin sent sparks of pleasure between my thighs.
We both froze as though equally stunned by the intensity of this position. Swirls of pleasure. A yearning for him to be inside me.
A soft sigh escaped my lips.
I shoved at his firm chest, trying to push him off before I weakened any further and begged for it. This man was pure muscle, pure alpha, and he’d captured me with the intensity of his stare.
My nipples nudged through my dress and there was no doubt he’d feel them through his shirt.
“Zara, I need you focused. Professional. I need you at your best.” He stepped back. The loss of his body left me bereft and I tried not to show it.
“I don’t have to do anything rude?” The question was my way of denying he’d affected me.
“No.”
“I need my X-ray machine.”
“It’ll stand out.” He waved his hand. “Just do what you did with the Pollock.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll get you in the room. Just tell me if it’s an original.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“I saw you do it.”
“No, I know the Pollock intimately. I sat at the National and stared at it for hours.” I broke his gaze. “I was trying to understand what Pollock was telling us.”
“What about your reputation? Your knack for fakes?”
“Art intuition? I suppose it runs in my family.”
Tobias blinked at me. “Do your best. That’s all I’m asking.”
I gave a reluctant nod. “Can I keep my dress on?”
“You’ll stand out.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“I just have to look at the painting and then we can leave?”
“I promise.”
“You’ll be with me the entire time?”
His eyes crinkled with kindness. “Won’t let you out of my sight.”
My breath stilted when I realized he was waiting for me to take off my dress.
He turned around.
How far was I willing to go for a painting? The question was glaring.
It’s like being at the beach, my nervous thoughts reassured me. This is no different to wearing your bikini.
I shimmied out of the gown and found a hanger to place it on. I left it at the end of the rung so it’d be easy to grab later.
Dressed merely in my underwear, or rather strips of silk barely covering me, my palms cupping my cheeks, I waited for him.
“Zara? Can I turn around?”
“Yes.” I assumed a confident pose, even though I didn’t feel it, and straightened my back and raised my chin.
Tobias blinked as he took me in. A flexing of his jaw muscles.
“Do I look okay?” I wanted to hear him say I looked beautiful to him.
The way his taut posture betrayed his secret desire for me spiked this dizzying rush of exhilaration.
My delight rose that he found this moment just as thrilling, never had I felt so desirable, so capable of this stark sensuality that had a man like Tobias Wilder looking so confounded.
“Don’t cover yourself.” He snapped back to unreadable and swept his hand through the air. “The women here are comfortable with their bodies.” His gaze swept over me and he gave a nod of approval. “Own your sexuality and you’ll do fine.”
Which I assumed was “Tobias” for act confident.
My left hand twitched to reach out and grab his hand to soothe this vulnerability.
This grand house kept too many secrets. I didn’t want to be in and out, I wanted to stroll along the hallways and drink in the art, saturate my soul with the work of the Old Masters.
This was not how I’d seen the evening going. Not even close.
“If anyone asks you a question, defer to me.”
“Did we just go back a hundred years?”
“We’re trying to maintain a low profile.”
I wanted to be ready for him, for them, but fear threatened to incapacitate me.
He took my hands. “You look beautiful. Do this and I’ll reward you well.”
“Like, with a bonus?”
He smirked. “Don’t push it. I’m already getting you a new phone, remember?”
I frowned, wondering how else he’d reward me, then.
He neared me and tipped my chin up. “I’ll make it up to you in more ways than you can ever imagine.”
My body trembled with this growing need of arousal and I bit my lip hoping I didn’t dampen my panties, my breaths short and sharp.
The pad of his thumb rested on my lower lip and he freed it from my bite. “Just do as I say.”
“I’ll try.”
As though lost in thought, his eyelids closed for a beat. “Mr. Wilder?”
He stepped away and walked over to his glass, and took a sip. “Let’s get this over with so we can get you home.”
His hand rested at the arch of my back as he led me out. Swooning at his touch and trying not to show it, I reminded myself I could leave at any time.
And, after all, I was wearing a mask.
Back within the vast foyer, the chill hit me again. Whoever had decided that women shouldn’t wear clothes needed a punch. It was bloody cold, and with a quick glance down I was horrified to see my areolae were not quite covered. Instinctively, I reached up to hide my breasts.
“Zara,” Tobias warned.
My arms flew to my sides as though I’d already stepped into the role of lover. “Next time I’m picking my own bra and panties.”
His lips quirked in a smile. “I’ve had the unusual pleasure of glimpsing a sample of your personal knicker collection back at The Otillie. Quite the experience. My new favorite color just so happens to be eggshell blue.”
I gave him a “you’re a cheeky bastard” glare. “Not that there’ll be a next time,” I clarified.
“Okay, then.”
We strolled down the dimly lit hallway.
Music carried along with laughter, clinking glasses, the revelry of a party.
Tobias spoke with two intimidating-looking bouncers guarding a large double door. He sounded fluent in the Italian words he shared with them, and I sensed it was a password.
They both reached for their respective doorknobs.
So many questions. How did he know about this place? Who was Ruby Ryan and what was his relationship with her?
A woman who was obviously into this—
Inside a fluorescent red room, topless burlesque dancers were performing, with one twirling on a