Page 9 of The Prize
I raised my chin. “I’ve never been on a bike before.”
“I’m sure you’ve never flown over Manhattan before, either.” He shoved his own helmet over his head and slapped the back of the bike for me to climb on.
I folded my arms across my chest, refusing.
Tobias took the spare helmet back from me and eased it over my head and fastened my chin strap. He brought the visor down and curled his knuckles to tap on it playfully as though checking I was still in there.
He raised his visor. “Move with me. Don’t try to get off when it’s moving. Those are the basics. Got it?”
I turned my back on the bike.
“Or you can walk.” He snapped his visor down and climbed on, looking ridiculously hot and masterful as he gripped the handlebars and revved the throttle, roaring the bike to life and hinting he was about to leave without me.
I huffed my disapproval even though it was pointless and lifted the hem of my dress as I climbed on and snuggled up close to his warm body, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my chest to his back with my thighs squeezed against his. He flinched and reached for my hands to bring them up higher, reminding me of his fight on the rooftop, and it sent a pang of guilt through me for arguing after he’d fought for his life.
And saved mine.
Still, this entire spectacle was even more outrageous than the one we’d planned, and I felt let down he’d kept me in the dark. The shock of watching him fall lingered, and I hugged him tighter—as though needing convincing he was okay.
Wilder kicked off the stand and we zoomed off to race across the park. I was grateful for the jacket. We were shielded by the beautiful trees on either side with their leaves scattered around them in a vision of autumn wonder, and I quietly cursed him for another exhilarating experience as we sped along.
This was just it; the uncertainty of every moment was what terrified me. I’d dedicated my life to finding a certain safety within museums and galleries where all the danger, all the heartbreak, all the pain, was vicariously lived through the characters in those breathtaking paintings by masters long dead.
I’d been destined to remain in a cozy office while perusing the contents of manila files to assess a painting’s provenance. Any doubt of its veracity could be settled by nestling in a serene corner of The Courtauld and conducting a series of scientific tests. There, issue solved. Matter dealt with and no safety net required. No “zooming around New York streets on the back of a crazy bike” was in my job description. My grip was so tight around Wilder’s waist I’d be amazed if he could still breathe, and my thighs clung to his.
Tobias took a sharp turn and I squeezed my eyes shut as we weaved through heavy traffic where cars and cabs vied for space. Even with this helmet on I could hear the cacophony of the city’s buzz. The horns of frustrated drivers and their inevitable squealing breaks, the thrum of people, music and undefined sounds merging to beat as one.
When we drove into the subterranean garage beneath the Manhattan mansion there came mixed feelings. I was glad to be getting off the bike but sad to break away from him. After removing my helmet and hugging it to my chest, I hurried toward the entry into the house and waited for him to unlock the door.
I wasn’t ready to look at him.
I’d sworn off any romance between us on the flight here on his private jet, and yet back in Central Park I’d kissed him passionately and my lips weren’t letting me forget it. They tingled with the lingering sensation of his fierce mouth on mine and his three-day scruff having deliciously scratched my cheeks until they’d flushed with happiness. He’d alighted my passion all over again, and I needed time to suppress these feelings.
Or I could just surrender this one time and soothe this ache, this desperate need to be taken. All I had to do was make my way to his bedroom and snuggle beneath the covers and wait for him to join me. We’d be together again and gloriously forgetting the pain we’d brought each other.
No, this wasn’t happening. The truth of who he was ruined me with the potency of an unending nightmare. Icon, the world’s most sophisticated art thief, had brilliantly shown off his impressive set of skills and terrified me—
Tobias thrived on this exhilaration, I could see it in his eyes after that daredevil stunt he’d just pulled off. A woman like me who lived a careful life, one who savored the sanctity of galleries and museums, would never be enough for a man like him. Not after this overdose of terror had left me dizzy and disorientated.
I placed my helmet on the foyer table and ripped off my blond wig and threw it next to it. My auburn locks tumbled over my shoulders as I made my way into the drawing room. Shaking from the cold, I neared the fireplace and held up my palms to draw the warmth from the fading fire. I made a mental note to chastise him later for having a hearth burning near these wonderful paintings.
I pined for the life I’d lost, for the illusion of love that had been fleeting. I ached to return to London where I could do all those things I’d taken for granted.
Staying in this house put off the inevitable. We were going to get caught and dragged into a humiliating ordeal in a courtroom where our private lives would become public knowledge.
The door creaked open but I refused to even look his way.
There was a blur of movement as it swung farther out. I sucked in a breath of surprise at the brown teddy bear with cute ears sticking up that was taking short steps toward me. I let out a burst of laughter at the creature’s sweetness. He was all pert ears, big brown eyes and cuddly belly; an adorable hologram convincingly real.
Tobias had rigged this room to create this. I should be angry but I was too damn tired. Too shaken.
Tobias came in and stared down at the bear. “There you are, Beasley.”
I gave a thin smile and my heart ached that we couldn’t be this—him inventing cute critters and me enjoying them with no complications between us.
Tobias came over. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I said even as I slid into a forced smile at the way Beasley had stopped at my feet and was staring up with those big soulful eyes. The illusion would be broken if I knelt and swept my hand to expose this holographic bear.
