“Jacuzzi.”
“So you admit it?”
“If you want something bad enough.”
I pushed myself up and slapped his chest playfully.
He gave a smile. “Mission accomplished, Leighton, you got your man. I’m inside you again. Feel this? This is what you wanted. See how ingenious you are. Looks like you have something in common with Icon.”
“Not fair.”
“Is this fair?” He buried deeper.
My white-knuckled grip tightened on the bedsheet; I was close.
“Need convincing?” He lifted me with ease and I wrapped my legs around him and he carried me across the room. Tobias shoved me against the wall and proceeded banging me hard against it. “How about this?”
This was mind-blowing and the feel of his controlled pounding sent me into a trance; all I could do was rest my head on his shoulder and let him have me like this.
He carried me over to the armchair and threw me face-first over it so my bum was raised upon the arch of the high back and my hands were gripping the seat. This position left me completely powerless and totally exposed. When his mouth met my sex again, he made me scream through another orgasm.
“I can see you still need convincing.” Tobias lifted me up and carried me back to the bed and flung me onto it. “How about this?” He climbed on to join me and rose above my body and yanked my arms over my head and gripped them there, pinning them down. Sinking his cock inside me again, setting off into a startling rhythm and pummeling me into the mattress.
I knew this was Tobias’s way of asserting his authority after I’d played with him in his gym.
“I need you to come again.” His voice sounded punishing.
“I can’t.”
“You can and you will.” He moved his hips in a circle.
His masterful words sent me reeling and I tipped up my pelvis, my hair falling over my face as I shuddered through another climax. Tobias stilled and became rigid and his heat burst into me, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he rode out his pleasure with continuous leisurely glides.
He held himself up with strong arms either side of my head and looked down at me. “How was that for an apology?”
“Right on point,” I managed.
He slipped to my side and pulled me onto him.
With my head nuzzled into the cradle of his neck and my leg draped over his, sated and weak in his arms I fell asleep.
The sound of birdsong stirred me awake and I raised my head off the pillow, realizing I’d been here all night.
“Hi.” Tobias reached over and lifted a strand of auburn out of my eyes.
I hoped he’d not snuck out during the night to bloody well steal something. So much for being on guard. Still, he reflected innocence and his hair was its usual mess of perfection.
I stretched languidly. “It’s like being on holiday.”
And I’d just reminded him the real reason I was here.
He rested his head in his hands and stared up at the ceiling.
I reached out to touch him. “I didn’t mean...”
Tobias swept his hand across the room. “My casa is your casa.”
Scooting over to him, I planted a kiss on his bicep and he reciprocated my affection with his fingers trailing languidly through my hair, making my scalp tingle.
The uncomfortable silence lingered too long.
“What’s it like having homes all over the world?” I broke the quiet.
“Guarantees privacy.”
“You have a Rothko, Tobias. An authentic painting by the master himself?”
“Mark gave it to my dad.”
Which explained why it was here and not in a gallery. Though this went against Tobias’s philosophy of sharing art with the world.
“Did your dad know him?”
“Yes. He was a remarkable man.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“The blue reminds me of you.” His eyes crinkled into a smile.
“Do you ever get lonely?”
“I keep busy.”
I rested my head in my palm. “You avoided the question.”
“I love my work.”
“Which? Your business? Your gallery? Inventing? Or...”
“Zara, don’t go there.”
“What would happen if I did?”
“I told you before. Everything I have done is to protect you.”
“From you?”
His eyes held mine and he looked hurt.
“From who, then?”
“Push me at your peril, Leighton.”
“What are you hiding?”
“What are you hiding?” he mirrored back.
“Me? Nothing.”
“Can I ask you something,” he said softly.
I shrugged that I’d hear his question at least.
He turned to face me. “How did your dad choose the paintings? The night of the fire?”
“We grabbed what we could.”
A flash of fear; disorientation.
“You remember something?”
“It was a long time ago.” But I understood the question. It was like asking which child you would save first, because each painting held a precious place in my father’s heart.
“Zara?” Tobias whispered.
I loosened my grip from where I’d been digging my fingernails into his bicep. “Dad went back for his favorite.”
“You went with him?”
“I couldn’t leave him.”
He looked horrified. “That was so dangerous.”
“He’d removed Madame Rose Récamier from my bedroom and placed her in his office weeks before. The frame needed to be refurbished. Otherwise she’d have gone too.”
“The smoke could have gotten to you.” Tobias rested his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling as though working through a difficult thought. “That’s where he kept the Michelangelo. That’s where he kept all the paintings you saved.”
“There were so many. We tried.” A familiar guilt that I couldn’t manage the Degas.
This drawn-out silence allowed those haunting memories to sweep in. “I should be able to ask you things too.”
“Go on, then.”
“How do they contact you?”
“Who?”
“Your clients? The ones who hire you to steal their paintings back?”
“Zara, please.” His tone insinuated I’d ruin what we’d shared.
I yearned to reach him and now felt so right. I scooted closer and rested my head on his chest and my scalp tingled as he ran his fingers through my hair.
“The