Vanessa Fewings - The Game

With trembling hands I stepped forward and laid St. Joan faceup on the desk. Stepping back, I raised my hands in the air a little. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Yet it is.

Had there not been cameras, or guards, or any other state-of-the-art security, I’d have taken her away with me without looking back. From that guard’s expression he knew it too. With a wave of his hand he warned me to move farther away.

My back met the wall and I froze.

An ice-cold slither of fear spiraling down my spine.

The door opened farther and in stepped a delicate-framed Latino woman, forty or so, those laughter lines now taut with worry. “Ms. Leighton?” Her tone was infused with tension. “I’m Maria Perez.”

“We spoke on the phone?” I said.

The awkwardness forced a shameful silence.

She saw the painting and looked horrified.

“I’m so happy to meet you.” It sounded silly now, my politeness negated by my suspicious behavior.

“Take a seat,” said the guard. “LAPD are on their way.”

My feet refused to move. “Who?”

“We’ve called the police.” Maria’s gaze rose to the small camera set in the upper right-hand corner.

Its lens trained on me.

Panic-stricken, I stared down at St. Joan wondering if Tobias had set a trap. He’d known how beaten up I was about finding her again. He’d witnessed firsthand how incapacitated I’d been when she’d turned up at Christie’s. He’d been the one who had embraced me when my knees had buckled with the strain of realizing she’d not been destroyed.

Vulnerable, ice sliding down my spine.

Then he appeared like a suave apparition—

Tobias Wilder entered briskly and paused just inside the door, his expression unreadable. A flash of power in his dark green gaze as he glanced at his desk.

His glare rising to find me.

Igniting a tremble within as I exhaled a slow, nervous breath. God, I’d almost forgotten how gorgeous he was, how regal and breathtakingly dashing, the way his dark blond hair framed that handsome face, high cheekbones and that strong jawline. The way he moved demurely and yet with a masculine edge that emanated power. I’d swooned too many times at the way he liked to casually tuck his hands into his trouser pockets like he was doing now in that expensive bespoke suit, no tie, and his collar open to add an arrogant flair.

Few people would know that beneath all that formality his left upper arm was inked seductively with an Aborigine symbol and lower on his well-toned body, along the curve of his groin, were inscribed words in Latin. Both in a suit and out of one he’d once rocked my world. An annoying inconvenience remedied by remembering who I was dealing with—

Icon.

And that curve of his lips proved he was garnering pleasure from my reaction to seeing him again.

I’ve fallen into his trap.

Of course, I’d underestimated his brilliance, his foresight, his boldness to break all the rules and let the dust fall where it may.

My stare swept from him to Maria, and then sharply to the guard’s hand twitching on the gun.

“It’s all a big misunderstanding,” I pleaded with Tobias. “Can you tell them...she’s mine?”

“Mr. Byron,” Tobias said darkly. “What do we have here?”

The guard pointed to St. Joan. “Sir, she tried to steal that one.”

Tobias’s frown deepened. “I see.”

Drowning in the consequences of my actions, my mind swirling—that gun freaking me out.

Tobias stood there quietly, merely emanating his usual charisma.

I stepped forward. “Mr. Wilder, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

“Likewise, Ms. Leighton,” he said with a twinkle of mischief.

My tone turned serious. “Your security is top-notch. After a brief sweep of your gallery I’ve confirmed your cameras are well positioned—” I pointed to the guard “—your staff are alert and responsive, and your mechanisms are well concealed.”

Tobias looked amused.

My heart pounded against my rib cage as I steadied my nerves. “Mr. Wilder?” I arched a persuasive brow.

He walked toward the desk and reached for St. Joan and lifted her with ease. He carried the painting across the room and returned her to the wall.

Scraping my teeth across my bottom lip, I willed him to be fair at least, to see reason, to remember we’d shared a passionate love affair. We’d been a couple; once.

Seeing him again was destroying me.

When he turned to face me it was with a deliberate authority and I cursed his waft of heady cologne seeping into my senses.

“Mr. Wilder?” Maria asked for confirmation.

He gave a nod. “Maria, may I introduce Ms. Zara Leighton, art investigator extraordinaire.” He turned to the guard. “Well done, Anton, keep up the good work.”

The guard looked relieved. “So this was a drill, sir?”

Tobias folded his arms across his chest. “Ms. Leighton, how did you find our sensitized marble floor tiles?”

I narrowed my gaze on him. “Looks good to me.”

“Invisible lasers?” He smirked.

“Invisible.”

If Maria was finding any of this suspicious she had every right to.

“Ceiling entry points?” he asked.

“Next on my agenda.” I waved it off.

“Mr. Wilder.” Maria looked worried. “Doesn’t this painting belong to Christie’s?”

He considered her question. “It’s very good isn’t it. Very convincing.”

Her gaze shot to it. “It’s a fake?”

“We can’t have Ms. Leighton walking out with an original, now can we? Imagine what would happen if I had to tackle her to the ground.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “It’s either that or I’m Icon. What do you say, Maria?”

She chuckled. “Silly.”

Tobias gave a confident nod. “Thank you, Anton, Maria, I can take Ms. Leighton from here.”

A rush of relief came flooding in and I went from ice-cold to flushed at the thought of being left alone with him.

Tobias waited until the door shut behind them.

He turned to face me. “How’s the weather in London?”

Wrapping my arms around myself, I ignored his stupid question.

“How are you finding LA?” he added.

“I like the palm trees.”

He walked over to me until he was looming dangerously close. “Jade.”

Snapping me back to reality as I remembered he had an invisible artificial intelligence that followed him everywhere, his home, car and apparently here at The Wilder.

“Deactivate camera in this office,” he ordered.

Had I tipped my chin up I could have pressed my lips to his and felt his mouth upon mine.

“Jade, confirm please.” His breath was minty.

An automated sultry female voice perked up, “Camera off.”

His lips lightly brushed mine.

I stuttered a nervous breath. “She’s talking now?”

“An easy tweak.”

“That’s very clever.”

“I like to please.”

Oh, God.

Now was a bad time for my nipples to bead because he was pressing his chest against mine and he’d feel them.

It wasn’t merely his expression that had softened from moments ago, it was a familiar look of affection in those gorgeous green eyes I’d loved staring into back in London, when we’d shared an unmatched intimacy. Those memories came flooding back, making my body shiver against his as I recalled moving beyond the veil of friendship with this incredible lover. I marveled still at his strength that could control my body just so, fuck me into blissful oblivion from every angle and leave me quivering for more, manipulate me into endless positions of vulnerability, and all for my heightened pleasure. The way his mouth had once glided over my tender flesh as though worshiping every inch of my body, the way his kisses trailed lower still, bestowing an endless array of sensations with his tongue.