Page 50 of The Prize
“Jade’s helping me.” He gave a sweet smile. “Don’t underestimate Jade’s talents.”
“I’ll be right back,” I lied and headed away from him and off to goodness knows where, though walking out the front door seemed reasonable. Instead, my crazy side went for the lounge.
I needed to put some space between us so I could think straight.
This was a gorgeous room with its wall-to-wall rosewood paneling and artwork providing an old-world feel. A plush green carpet and low hanging chandelier hinted it had hosted parties once and probably with influential guests. This Art Nouveau theme made me feel like I’d been transported to a simpler time.
Tobias burst through the door. “Why are you mad at me?”
“Where do you keep the Bombay thingies?”
“Zara, it’s only 3:00 p.m.”
“I deserve a treat.”
“Why did you walk away?” He read my angry glare. “Okay, step aside. The mixologist is in the house.”
I folded my arms and stubbornly stuck to my spot behind the bar and let him work around me, quietly seething at him for the insanity he’d unleashed on me. I considered how to best deliver what was going to sound like uncensored screaming.
Tobias filled two glasses with ice, poured a dash of vermouth into each one, grabbed a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin and poured that in too. He stirred it and then tipped it through a sieve into two fresh cocktail glasses, leaving the ice behind. His fingers deftly squeezed lemon into each one. “Olive?”
“I’m freaking out here.”
“I can see that.” He handed me the glass, then rested his hand on the bar looking suavely confident.
“What was that really?” I pointed toward his workshop.
“In what way?”
I took a gulp of my cocktail and it burned my throat but it was a good burn, the kind that took my mind off my terror for all of five seconds.
He gestured to my glass. “Slow down.”
I set my drink down. “You think you’re training your protégé. Is that it?”
“This is what protection looks like.” He sounded stern. “This is me looking out for you. You demanded into my world. There’s a caveat.”
I lifted my glass and swigged several more gulps and was pleasantly struck with the way my body flushed with warmth, and it went straight to my head.
Tobias’s brow arched as he watched me take another sip and he lifted his own glass to his lips. “Damn, that’s good.”
“What’s next? Weapons?”
“Okay, Annie Get Your Gun, take a breath. I’ve never used a weapon. I’ve never hurt anyone.”
“Why does everything you do feel wrong?”
“I thought you liked my crazy golf.” He held out his hands. “Come here.”
“No.”
“Don’t you think I’d rather be taking you to a museum—” he waved his hand through the air “—strolling through Central Park with you—”
“You mean instead of forging a painting?”
“We’re against the clock, Zara.” Tobias caressed his brow. “This is happening with or without you.”
My sharp intake of breath revealed my horror.
