Page 17 of The Prize
At the end of the ramp I stared in awe at the enormous NASA-styled workshop packed with see-through monitors and high-concept technology devices like the glass screens with what looked like calculations written on them. Chrome benches were stacked with electronic gadgets, and strewn here and there were discarded fine tools hinting he was in the middle of making something or fixing it. This ultimate tech cave contradicted the old-world feel of the mansion above that was all classic decor and homey elegance.
Over Pavarotti’s voice came a strange noise and I followed it, strolling in between the benches and glancing here and there to get a feel for what he was doing down here. This had to be where he spent his time inventing for his company TechRule. A wave of melancholy hit me when I imagined he might have to give it up if he ever got caught for his past sins.
Halfway down a hallway I paused to peer in at a room with a central console positioned to face five large flat screens secured to the wall. They were flashing a series of maps taken from a satellite. I recognized the aerial view of New York rotating through live images. I wondered if he had a similar one set up in LA.
Continuing down I found Wilder.
His face was covered by a long mask and he was directing a welding torch at the base of a large drone hanging five feet in the air, and it was the same one that had carried me off to Central Park last night.
Fine sparks glittered at the point where his torch met the base. The drone was suspended midair with wires strategically wrapped to hang it from the ceiling, allowing access on all sides. Other than Tobias’s black jeans, he was bare chested and barefoot. His forearms were covered in long suede gloves smudged with grime and his well-toned torso was spotted in perspiration and ridiculously well-defined. His left shoulder tattoo shimmered beneath the soft yellow light and his pants were low enough to provide a glimpse of the inked Latin inscription trailing off beneath his belt. Those bruises on his torso were even more defined now.
“Hey,” I called out.
The torch shut off and Tobias raised his visor. “Music down, Jade.” He dragged his forearm along his brow to wipe the perspiration. “How’d you sleep?”
“I’m locked in?”
He set his torch on the table behind him.
“You’ve rigged this place so I can’t get out.”
“We have everything we need.” He pulled his gloves off and threw them aside.
“Seriously?”
Tobias pulled his mask all the way off and placed it next to the torch. “Our security is designed to keep people out. The kind we don’t want entering while we sleep. And while I’m down here I can’t watch over you.” He smiled to reassure me.
“I can leave?”
“Why would you?”
When I showed uncertainty it triggered something protective in him and he got amorous. The last thing I needed was his mouth on me. Seeing him half-naked and annoyingly competent with his power tool was stirring an inconvenient arousal.
I wanted to kiss him hard. “Let’s talk about boundaries.”
“Sure.”
I became aware of my erect nipples betraying me through the sweater and folded my arms across my chest. “It’s cold down here.” I threw in a shiver.
His gaze slid to my shoes. “How does everything fit?”
“They’ll do.”
His frown deepened. “Boundaries?”
“Yes.”
“You have full access to this place. You have full access to me.” He followed that by a seductive arch of his brow.
“Tell me last night wasn’t a waste of time.”
“In what respect?”
“Have you had time to use Burell’s fingerprints to hack his computer?” My voice strained as I added, “Did you find out where my paintings are?”
“Yeson the hacking andnoto finding your paintings. I’m sorry. We have time.”
I exhaled slowly. “So this is where you create your things?”
