Page 116 of The Chase
A few feet from the lift.
His expression predictably serene. The “too dashing for his own bloody good” TobiasfuckingWilder. That usual pose of his hands casually tucked inside his trouser pockets and his chin arrogantly raised.
Yes, buddy, I found you!
I pointed back to the lift and screamed at him, “Who was the mad, fuck-wit bastard who invented that piece of crap?”
Tobias’s left brow arched inquisitively. “We can always rely on Miss Leighton to make a memorable entry.”
21
Wriggling free from Tobias’s ironclad grip was impossible.
We hurried past the stunned faces of his staff and continued along a hallway, speeding by a lengthy window to a conference room—
I sucked in a gasp when I saw my Michelangelo secure on an easel. Beside it rested my Vermeer and the da Vinci. The contents of several folders were strewn on the long dark wooden table.
Logan was in there talking with a balding man who had his back to me. I could only assume he was some private dealer ready to part with some serious cash. Logan gave me the stink-eye as we flew along the hall and I reciprocated with a scowl.
Tobias called off his guards and demanded one of his slew of pretty receptionists bring him a towel.
“You’re a lying, cheating bastard,” I said.
“Let’s save the compliments until we’re out of earshot, okay.” We flew through a door.
I broke away from him and took a few steps back.
“Come here.” He opened his arms for me to fall into. “I had no idea you were so scared of elevators? Or is it heights?”
I ignored him and snapped my head around at the posh-looking everything. The room so big it could only be his office. An enormous desk with a sleek computer facing that enormous TV hanging midair. A lounge with chairs and a leather sofa at the other end. The view of the city was spectacular with the River Thames winding off toward the horizon, and my legs wobbled as I remembered how high we were.
In the distance rose the fluorescent blue of the London Eye.
A young brunette came in and handed Tobias a towel. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“No, thank you,” he said. “No interruptions. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” She shrank out of the room and closed the door behind her.
“Unsurprisingly, you have quite the collection of tarts working for you,” I said.
“I have an HR department.” He threw the towel over my head and rubbed away.
Making me feel like a silly schoolgirl who’d stepped in from the rain.
“Where’s your umbrella?” he said. “Didn’t you wear a coat? We need to get you out of those clothes.”
“Isn’t that convenient!”
He went to speak and thought better of it.
I pointed at him. “Bet you’re surprised how I found you.”
“We’re standing in one of the tallest buildings in London. Maybe the tower sticking up above all the others helped?”
“How could you?”
“What are you talking about, Zara?”
