Page 25 of The Prize
“Very good.”
The nape of my neck tingled. “And you have other gadgets like this?”
“I do.”
“Show me.”
“I’m tempted.” His tone turned husky. “Are you tempted to experience more, Leighton?” His heady cologne mingled with his scent and saturated my senses.
“Yes.” I sounded breathy as I recalled the way he’d seduced me in his bedroom last night and my hand trailed over my chest in expectation. If he touched me I’d be unable to resist him, because my body was on fire for this half-naked version of Tobias. If he held me firmly and spun me round for a kiss and ravaged my mouth like he did my sex last night my skin would liquefy. My entire being was tingling with anticipation of his caress that always morphed into domination. The delicious kind I resisted so I wouldn’t lose my way in him.
You’ve already lost your way in him.
Silence lingered...
My body yearned for his touch, my breasts swelling, nipples tightening, chest rising and falling and making me light-headed as I spun round and swept my hands through the mist, ready to persuade him to see his dark scheming was not going to happen.
He was gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
WITHINHALFANHOURI’d found my way around the cozy kitchen and made toast and scrambled some eggs and brewed fresh coffee. All this fresh produce was proof Wilder had someone working for him. Their discretion and ability to hide from me was uncanny.
Though the kitchen had been modernized, it reflected the spirit of the rest of the house with its white walls, stainless steel appliances and an open-plan design with a couch and sofa in the far corner to add a splash of homeyness.
I placed two settings with the silver cutlery on the granite island for us and found coasters for our drinks. In between these quiet moments of normalcy I tried to think of another way to get Burell to reveal where my paintings were. Though finding them would be the easy part. Getting them would take the kind of skill only one man could pull off.
“Ah, coffee.” Tobias was dressed casually in ripped jeans and a J.Crew sweater and had a black jacket flung casually over his shoulder. He was carrying an iPad. He flung his blazer over the back of one of the armchairs and settled opposite at the central island.
He placed his phone beside his mug and peered at his plate. “This looks nice.” He beamed with happiness.
I loved seeing this side of him. “Is this enough?”
“More than enough. You’re spoiling me.”
“I like doing it.” Taking care of him made me happy and kept my mind busy.
“Did you find everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“I fixed the heating. It should be warmer now.”
“Great.”
“Have you discovered the sitting room? There’s a TV in there and music if you want to relax.”
“Yes, thank you. I didn’t know you like opera.”
“My taste ranges from rock to classic.”
“And of course you know all about mine.” I reached for my knife and fork.
He held my gaze. “You’re referring to your background search that I conducted?”
“I meant you confiscated my phone with all my music.”
“Ah.”
