Vanessa Fewings - The Game

His grip tightened. “How’s the Sofitel?”

Adrenaline surged through me. “Lovely.”

He nuzzled close to my ear. “I’m glad you came.”

I leaned back to see him better. “Tell me how to get through to you?”

He tipped me backward and held me suspended in a scooped pose low in his arms as he leaned forward to whisper, “Tell me you want me.”

“Everyone’s watching.”

“Say it.”

“Let me up.”

“Say it first.”

“Tobias, I’m serious.”

“Not until you say it.” His mouth brushed mine.

I nipped his lower lip and he let out a moan of pleasure and flipped me up and yanked my body to his again, his hardness digging in to my lower stomach.

He arched an amused brow. “Now we’re going to have to dance until my dignity returns. I blame you.”

A rush of desire at being in his arms again flooded through me. I was fast becoming drunk with arousal from the way he was holding me so masterfully.

My words spilled out in a flurry. “Mr. Wilder, you misled me—”

“No, Zara.”

“If you care about me you’ll not taunt me like this.”

“Of course I care about you.”

“What is this?”

“I’m forgiving you.”

“What for?”

He looked surprised. “Your sneak attack on me tonight. I’m completely defenseless against you.”

“I have to get back to Gabe.”

“Can I take you out to dinner?”

“So you can send me out of the country again?”

“Technically, you never left.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I will have you again,” he said with an edge of danger. “I know you want that too.”

The room was spinning.

Tobias’s glare fixed on me fiercely as though he needed to see I wanted this. These were the words I’d craved to hear but I was past being led astray. I looked over his shoulder so I could access these remnants of strength that were evading me.

“Zara, you misjudged me. Let me prove it to you.”

No, and my anguished expression told him that. “Let me go.”

And let me go...

He stepped back. “Let’s talk at least.”

I raised my chin high, pretending he had no effect on me. He went to say something but instead he quickly broke my glare.

“I can find my own way.” I rushed from him, needing to put distance between us as my heart shattered. This chill reached my bones and my mind felt dazed from the confliction of seeing him again.

Gabe waved my way to get my attention. “Looks like you’ve swept one of America’s most wanted off his feet.”

“Most wanted?”

“Bachelors,” he said. “Look at him.”

Tobias was standing beneath an archway and he was staring right at me, his expression marred with confusion in a haunting reminder of what could never be.

I spun around to break the intensity of Wilder’s confident stance and faced one of Terrance’s paintings, focusing on the bright canvas while trying to find my center again and fight this wavering desire to believe there could be an us.

The plaque beside Terrance’s painting stated this one was called Unpredictable.

The young artist had seemingly channeled his emotions onto the large canvas. It spoke in ways I couldn’t define. There was freshness to it, a vibrancy and a seeming grasp of pain someone so young shouldn’t know.

Perhaps seeing Tobias tonight wasn’t a coincidence. No, surely he wouldn’t hit a gallery with me here? His words of affection had been used to distract me. He’d used his charm and done his worst to send me reeling. I’d almost fallen for him all over again.

I went in search of him, recalling Icon’s MO and remembering he always cut the power before a heist. He always zapped the security cameras and he always left no trace. With all these guests milling around, the guards were more easily distracted.

I hurried out of the showroom with my chest tight with tension, on through the expansiveness, scanning the many faces of the guests roaming freely as I weaved my way around them.

There he was—

Sitting alone on a wooden bench and people watching, his intelligent eyes taking everything in. He glanced at his watch and then pushed himself to his feet and strolled eastward down a long hallway.

After turning a corner, I saw him standing at the end, casually leaning against a wall and scrolling through his phone. I wondered if this was how he deactivated the security system, by using some gadget app he’d invented.

With a confident stride I headed toward him. He showed surprise when he saw me.

“What are you doing?” I said firmly.

He raised his phone. “You didn’t answer my text.”

“Didn’t bring it.” Because it’s stashed away in a library at UCLA, I mused proudly.

“You should always carry a charged phone.”

I folded my arms. “Are you going to hit this place?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Let me get you a drink.”

The room to his left was flooded in darkness and yet the rest of the gallery glared beneath fluorescent lights.

I narrowed my eyes. “What are you up to?”

He feigned innocence. “Enjoying the art.”

I stepped left to peer into the dark showroom.

His frown deepened. “You can’t see that one tonight.”

“Really?”

He gestured to the rope cordoning it off. “Out of order.”

“That’s convenient. I wonder who put that there.”

“The staff, I imagine. There’s a fault with the sensors.”

I moved toward the door and he grabbed my arm.

“Let go, please.”

His hand snapped away and his back straightened. “There’s a good reason it’s cordoned off.”

“I’m sure there is.” I threw him a look of triumph and climbed over the rope and headed in, pulling the strap of my purse across my chest and easing it behind me.

“Zara,” he called after me, “I was standing in front of the sign.”

I turned and forced a smile. “Am I ruining your plan?”

“You can’t be in here.”

Yes, buddy, I’ve caught you in the act.

Passing the first impressively large portrait on the left of a holographic tornado, I admired its realism. Though with merely digits and codes it wouldn’t be worth anything and was impossible to steal. Walking onward there was the footage of a hurricane at sea with rolling waves; a living, breathing masterpiece. Next, an image of the sun shining brightly and I shielded my eyes trying to figure out what would be so appealing in any of these.

My heel caught in the ground and I peered down at the tiny holes in the floor tiles.

Fuck.

“Hurry!” Tobias was inside the rope and frantically gesturing. “This is the rain room!”

I gawped toward the sound of rushing air.

A deluge of rain—drenching me.

When I opened my eyes, I blinked through the blur of water at a horror-stricken Tobias. The rain ceased, though a few droplets still hit my head as my hair squished to my scalp. My dress clung horribly. I’d become the exhibit.

Careful with his footing on the slippery floor, Tobias hurried over and shrugged out of his jacket.

Breathing through these waves of panic... Oh, no, I’d ruined this lovely dress. Wiping water out of my eyes, I looked up at him. “It’s Escada.”

“I love it.” He gave a sympathetic smile. “Both versions.” He wrapped his jacket around my shoulders.

I welcomed the warmth with a sigh. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Tobias cupped my cheeks and leaned in and kissed me, his lips soft and comforting against mine, my mouth tingling, my need for him relighted as I almost forgot this was forbidden.

He broke away and gave a reassuring tug on his jacket to bring it further around my shoulders. “You have a funny way of trying to save me, Zara Leighton.”