Page 146 of The Prize
“I’m okay, what was the painting?”
“A West.”
“Which one?” Though my brain was asking what size this masterpiece was before it disappeared.
“It was taken from the State room.Queen Charlotteby Benjamin West—”
“That’s a nice painting.”
The size would match the very one Coops had just dropped off.
I feigned not to be shaken to my core. “And the provenance?” Though she knew I was really asking if there’d been a suspicious break in ownership. A history that might make it a target for Icon.
“It was painted for King George III and Queen Charlotte.” She sounded solemn.
“No break in provenance? Doesn’t sound like Icon.”
“There’s always a first.”
My throat tightened and my gut wrenched at her insinuation. “Not sure how I can help?” I pined for that glass of ice tea waiting for me by my lounger.
“This one was against the queen.” She widened her eyes suggestively. “This one hits at the center of everything we hold dear.”
“I get that.” I gave my best apologetic smile.
“Do what you can at that end.”
What she was asking of me cut to my core.
“Are you up for it, Zara? Are you willing to do what is right?”
“Always.” Though my heart ripped into pieces at the thought of it.
Doing what was right was searching this house for that painting and then calling off my wedding. Then setting the authorities on the man I loved. The only person who got me. The only one who’d broken down my walls and shown me how to live.
“I’ll be in touch.” I snapped closed the laptop.
Pushing to my feet, I stared out the glass door at Tobias. He looked like he could be asleep behind those shades, seemingly guilt free because he believed what he did to be right.
“You promised me,” I whispered into the ether.
Looking around, I soaked in the glamor and the coziness. I’d let my guard down here, finally trusted and allowed myself to believe I deserved to be happy.
I jolted—
Tobias stood before the glass window staring at me and he looked like he was trying to read me from there, and even though he still wore sunglasses I could see he was concerned.
He stepped forward and slid the glass door open. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
He pulled off his glasses and set them on the kitchen island. “Sure?”
“Absolutely.”
His gaze drifted to my laptop. “Who was it?”
“Abby.”
