Alex glanced in the mirror and didn’t like what she saw. The minuscule length of the black skirt left her feeling skanky, the pewter blouse opened too much, revealing her lack of a bra, and the four-inch heels would cripple her by noon. On the other hand, it should be hard to recognize the real Alex without her brown hair and the conservative clothes she’d always worn with Luc.
In the lobby, she shimmied her way from the elevator to the restaurant. After a deep breath, she wandered in. Simon sat with his back to the wall, facing her. He’d exchanged his typical jeans and tight T-shirt for an Armani suit and an open-collar shirt. The transformation took him from bouncer to billionaire.
Henry sat next to him. He wore black from head to toe, and he rocked it. Maybe it was the slicked-back hair with natural blond highlights that contrasted with the midnight shades. Whatever it was, her split personality not only ached for the nerdy guy in the castle surrounded by a gang of children, but the delicious bad boy who looked decadent in designer clothes and kissed her senseless.
A heavyset dark-haired man sat with them. She couldn’t make out his face from the way he was positioned in his seat. The men spoke in low voices regarding something she probably knew more about than all three of them combined.
Simon, Henry, and the other man stood when she approached.
Alex tried to keep her accent generic American. Not too difficult after being gone for so long. “Baby, there you are. I was getting nervous in the suite all by myself.” She ran her hands over Simon’s shoulders and nuzzled his neck. She refused to glance at Henry, because the guilt would show in her eyes, her attraction would change her body language, and they wouldn’t stand a chance at convincing this guy she was with Simon.
Simon’s arm curved possessively around her waist. “Belinda. You met Colin Fisher last night. This is Roman Ledovskoy. He’s hosting the party tonight.” Simon called the waiter over and ordered her some coffee and a fruit plate.
She ignored Henry and observed Roman. His age fell somewhere between forty and fifty. Expensive clothes, platinum Rolex with a mother-of-pearl face. She put out her hand, and he grasped it, not releasing her until she lowered her eyes in deference to him.
“Nice to meet you.”
Roman scanned her body, perhaps considering her as potential conquest. “Simon, you have impeccable taste in women.”
In a breathy whisper, she replied, “You’re too sweet. Will there be dancing tonight? I love dancing.”
“Regrettably, no.” He zoned in on her legs. “It is more of a cocktail party. A time to view some beautiful art.”
Alex sighed. “I’m sure it will be fun anyway.”
The waiter returned with her coffee. She added cream and three packets of sugar, and then took a tentative sip. Disgusting, but Alex was known to drink only black coffee. “It’s never sweet enough.” She reached for more sugar.
Simon placed his hand on her knee and squeezed hard to shut her up. She’d have a bruise there if he did it again. Remaining silent, she retracted her hand from the sugar bowl and took another sip of the coffee. Tilting her body slightly toward Simon’s gave her a better view of Roman. He was not one to be trifled with. A lot like Luc in attitude, but not even a close second to him in appearance.
Roman turned his attention to Henry. “As I was saying, the drawings will be the highlight, but I’m sure you’ll be satisfied with many of the oils.”
Henry acted bored and spoke as though this meeting was a waste of time. “I’m interested in romanticism and neoclassicism portraits and still lifes. There are few drawings in which my clients have ever shown an interest.”
“I am fairly certain we will have several pieces to your liking. If not, there will be similar exhibitions of new pieces in some other cities this year.” Roman stood. “It was nice meeting all of you.” He lifted Alex’s hand and kissed it. “Until tonight.”
After Roman disappeared, Henry called for the check. “I need to go back to the room and review my notes.”
Simon nodded to him. “You did great. If Belinda curbs her sweet tooth, we might pull this off.”
They all stood.
Alex leaned on Simon’s shoulder. “Honey, if you had ordered me room service, I wouldn’t be suffering from hypoglycemia.”
“You can order something when we get upstairs. Simon’s buying. He loves to spoil his girlfriends,” Henry said before walking away.
“My employer’s an earl. He pays extremely well.” Simon laughed and placed his arm around Alex’s shoulders to escort her up to the suite.
When they arrived, he locked himself in his bedroom. She still didn’t trust him entirely, but like Henry, he gave out a confusing amount of good vibes to offset his cloud of secrets.
Alex called room service and ordered four fried eggs, a pile of bacon, three slices of toast, and two pots of coffee, no cream. “Do you want anything, Henry?”
“I don’t think they’ll have anything left after your order.”
She spoke into the phone. “Nothing else. Thank you.”
Henry paced in front of a large window overlooking Edinburgh Castle as though preparing for a dissertation in art. She could picture him lecturing to a class full of college women enamored with the hunky professor.
Ambling up behind him, Alex tapped his arm to grab his attention. “Do you need help, Colin? I know something about drawings. Are they charcoal, drafts, shaded?”
“All of the above. I think they carry an amalgamation of any type of art they can sell for a boatload of money without it being traced back to them.”
Simon walked in. “You need to buy something tonight, Henry. I’ve narrowed it to one of two pieces, if Lady Elizabeth isn’t present.”