“I can’t afford my own painting. How am I going to buy one that’s not mine?” Henry ran his fingers through his hair and then made a face indicating he’d forgotten about the hair gel.
“Stolen art at these events is heavily discounted. Besides, I’ll give you the cash. It’s a show of good faith. You need to pay to stay in this game.”
Simon seemed to know the game too well.
…
Henry and Simon, both dressed in black tuxedos, waited for Gabe to finish getting ready in the bedroom. It was nine o’clock, and Simon needed to escort her to the event. Henry would take a taxi and arrive a half hour later.
“Make sure you don’t leer at Gabe,” Simon advised. “People think I know and respect you. They also know I’d kill you if you took my girlfriend, or even attempted to.”
“I’m not tempted.” He was certainly tempted, but he’d curb his desires for the good of the mission.
Simon snorted. “In addition, don’t get ticked off if others place their hands on her. She’s tough and will handle it fine. I need to be her protector tonight. Not you.”
“I think you’re overestimating my attraction to her.”
The door to the bedroom opened, and Henry’s face froze. She was magnificent. Wearing a red silk gown that floated over her skin from the top of her breasts into a pool of fabric on the floor, Gabe drifted toward them. Her expression remained aloof. Her golden hair draped over one eye. Full round lips, covered in red, begged to be kissed. Simple pearls decorated her neck and ears. She stood sensual and seductive, yet submissive. His image of her shattered. She was indefinable. A marked contrast with the woman he had met only a week ago.
“The expression you’re wearing right now is the one you can’t wear for the rest of the evening.” Simon punched his shoulder and then walked up to Gabe. “Belinda, you look ravishing.”
“Thanks,” she whispered as though his compliment caught her off guard.
“I only see one problem with your outfit.” Simon handed her a blue velvet box. “I cannot have a woman of mine wearing such common jewelry.”
Henry watched as she lifted out two teardrop diamond earrings and a heavy gold chain with a large teardrop diamond pendant. She gazed up at Simon and thanked him.
“They’re on loan, so be careful.”
“I will.” The gratitude in her eyes beamed toward Simon and provided Henry a stiff punch in the gut. He wanted her to look at him with those brandy-colored eyes.
Simon went back to his room for his car keys.
After she secured the earrings, she handed the necklace to Henry. “Do you mind helping me with this?” Her voice was halting. Was she nervous?
He placed the necklace around her neck, his face a mere breath away from hers. The scent of her expensive perfume intoxicated him. Forgetting all of Simon’s instructions, he moved his mouth to the base of her throat and kissed her. She let out a sharp breath of air and clutched his arms. He continued kissing her neck and bit her ear with enough force to cause her to gasp, but her grip pulled him closer.
“Enjoy the next few hours with Simon,” he said and then took one more bite. “When we return to this room, you’re mine.”
Her hands clung to his arms, her breath heavy. She stood silent and still, staring at his eyes until she released him and stepped back. She appeared to struggle to regain her composure. Thank God he didn’t have to ride with them. He needed a drink.
Simon returned to the room, took Gabe’s arm, and escorted her to the door. After they departed, the bar beckoned to Henry.
He’d composed himself by the time he arrived at the estate several miles from the city. A huge stone manor house illuminated by hundreds of twinkling lights and doormen dressed in full Scottish regalia reminded him of Ripon Manor.
Handing the doorman his invitation, he entered the main foyer and admired the beautiful tartan accents draped over the windows and the wool tapestries covering the walls. What had Gabe thought of the decor?
After procuring some eighteen-year McClelland’s, a better-than-decent scotch, he wandered around looking over the forty or so people in the main room until Roman approached him. “Mr. Fisher. Welcome to my home. Once you are comfortable, I can show you the gallery.”
“Lead on.”
They climbed a flight of stairs, and Henry followed Roman down a long hall into a modern section of the house and a large room sectioned off like a museum. The configuration of the walls allowed each piece of art to stand on its own.
Henry glanced around the room for Lady Elizabeth. So far, he saw no sign of her. As they turned a corner, he caught sight of Gabe speaking to several men. Simon stood behind her focused on another group of men. From where he stood, she appeared shy and reticent, holding back her vibrant personality so no one recognized her.
He continued strolling through the gallery looking for his painting. As he made his way into the final exhibition area, Simon approached him carrying his trademark vodka.
“Find it?” Simon asked.
“No.” He held his frustration back.
“There are other locations.”
“I understand. How’s Belinda?” Henry tried to sound nonchalant.
“None of your business.” Simon’s voice told him to shut up about her.
Henry pulled himself back into his role as art buyer and shifted his eyes from the people in the room to the walls and the millions of dollars displayed. “I’d like to find a painting, but I’m unsure which. Any suggestions?”
“Let’s take a stroll, and I’ll point out my favorites.” Simon led him back through the maze and suggested several charcoal drawings and sketches that Henry could purchase for his fictitious clients. “This one is part of a sketchbook stolen a few years back.”
They studied the drawing. It seemed familiar.
“Who’s the artist?”
“Picasso.”
“My budget is fifty thousand.”