Page 28 of The Chase
“Put this on.” He gestured for me to turn my head so he could help me secure the ribbon behind, his fingertips moving against my hair and making my scalp tingle.
I couldn’t wait to share my adventures back at the office. Elena was going to freak out when I told her about what kind of mission Adley had unwittingly sent me on.
After repositioning my mask to fit perfectly, I pulled down the rearview mirror. My reflection was that of a mysterious sultry siren.
Tobias of course looked gorgeous in his and when he caught me staring at him flashed a grin. “Ready?”
“Yes, I’m excited.”
“You look beautiful.”
I was grateful he’d already gotten out of the car and hadn’t caught my reaction to his compliment. Tobias Wilder had a kind side. And as we were about to spend the evening together at a party, discovering this about him would make tonight easier.
I wondered if it was a Rembrandt we were going to see, and my toes curled with the thrill of seeing the kind of priceless masterpiece reserved for stately homes like this.
Thanking Tobias for holding my door open, I appreciated his strong hand taking mine to help me out of the car.
We strolled up to the front door, which loomed grandly above. Taking those stone steps beneath the elaborate archway highlighting the Roman-themed grandeur.
I straightened my dress. “Why do we have to be out by midnight?”
“Not we, you.” His lips curled into a smile. “I need to protect your innocence.”
I flashed a smile back. “Oh, it’s that old-fashioned tradition where the men retreat to the smoking room in some kind of archaic sexist ritual.”
He wrapped his fingers around my left upper arm. “No, Zara, it’s because that’s when the fucking starts.”
6
The front door opened—
And I’d given up breathing.
Tobias ignored my death glare and gave a nod of greeting to the butler, and said, “Vis-v-vis.”
He removed a cream envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to him.
The door opened wider.
Tobias’s ironclad grip led me in and past the stocky young butler who probably doubled as a bouncer.
A young waitress stepped forward too. She extended a silver tray with crystal flutes of champagne. I tried to keep my gaze on the bubbly and not stare at her nakedness. She wore a black thong, and that was it, unless you counted the nipple clamps. She was petite, and her pretty eyes narrowed with intrigue from behind her mask.
Tobias thanked her for the drinks and lifted them off the tray. He handed one to me. I resisted gulping it down and turned to face him.
“Ms. Ruby Ryan?” The butler looked up from the invite he’d peeled open and held my gaze.
Tobias gave a nod. “Which way?”
“Welcome.” The butler nodded left.
Tobias’s grip tightened on my arm and he led us off in that direction.
“Black tie, sir,” shouted the butler after us.
Tobias threw me a look of apology and removed his jacket from my shoulders. He shrugged back into it, rounding out his dashing, moneyed appearance.
My thoughts raced with confusion for what Tobias was getting us into, and I almost tripped when we hurried by Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s painting ofLes Grandes Baigneuses, depicting nude women bathing. The impressionist painter had a gift for capturing the dreaminess of his subjects.
