The Chase. Vanessa Fewings

the modest room there was merely a central island. A couple of boxes resting on top of it.

      One wall was a mirror from carpet to ceiling. There, in the corner, hanging on an ornate tall cupboard, was an elegant black satin gown, the kind you see worn on the runways of Paris. Tobias strolled over to the island and lifted the box sitting in the center. He opened the lid to reveal the strappy silver shoes inside.

      I caught my breath. “Those are pretty.”

      He was showing me his girlfriend’s things, and I feigned this wasn’t awkward at all. I looked around for the painting. There wasn’t one.

      “You’ll need this.” He gestured to the box beside the shoes.

      My frown deepened as I stepped forward, lifted the lid and rifled through the soft tissue paper, looking for the handheld X-ray scanner.

      I pulled out a strip of black silk material and realized I was looking at Coco de Mer lingerie.

      My breath left me in a rush as the bra slipped from my fingers back into the box. He came closer, his expression intense, his green irises fierce under the light.

      “Tobias?” My gaze dragged from his and fell back onto the tag on that thin strip of material that was meant to serve as a bra and it was my cup size. My cheeks blazed like fire. “What’s this for?”

      He glanced at the dress. “Please, put on the Alexander McQueen.”

      “Why?”

      “You can’t go dressed like that.”

      “Go where?”

      “To see the painting.” He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear.

      It felt as though I’d been struck by lightning and the echo of his touch lingered where his fingers had brushed my cheek; my eyelids fluttered. “We’re not staying here?”

      “No, Zara.”

      “We’re going out?”

      He gave the kindest smile. “Yes.”

      My stare returned to the sexy underwear and then moved from the strappy shoes and hovered over the dress. “That’s for me?”

      He gave an assured nod. “Meet me in the foyer.”

      Tobias left and his heady cologne lingered behind him, its effect just as powerful.

      I leaned on the central island and clutched the edge, knuckles white, fighting this wave of light-headedness.

      As though rising from a dream, the situation became glaringly clear. I’d stepped inside the world of the truly wealthy and just proven I was out of my depth. Yes, I’d come from money, but it had all been tied up in property and paintings and never had I experienced moments of decadence that took my breath away—

      Until now.

       5

      Reason caught up with my arousal and nudged it out of the way, helping me see clearly without the distraction of that sex god clouding my view.

      You don’t invite a professional woman over to your home, which is in the middle of nowhere, show her some erotic lingerie and tell her to put it on, and then force her to wear a gown from one of the world’s top designers. No matter how much it must have cost or how gorgeous those strappy straps looked with that risqué off-the-shoulder design and elegant ruching, and the way it fell to flatter a woman’s curves just so.

      Even if you do go around flaunting you’re the sexiest man alive and a hero to wildlife, with the ease of someone who pretends he has no effect on those around him.

      “No, you bloody well don’t.” I stomped down the hallway, through the foyer and out into the cold night air.

      And headed for my Range Rover.

      From what I’d seen, everyone back at Huntly Pierre seemed reasonable. I’d merely relay my concerns about our client’s eccentricities and be off the hook—

      A burst of noise above.

      A blinding fluorescent white lit up the house.

      I forced my lips shut against the tornado of dust and leaves swirling around me and brought my hands up to protect my face from the scattering debris, crouching against the metal monster looming above, the force of wind shoving me back and blasting my clothes.

      Whirling blades came into view—

      The sleek helicopter turned a 180 and landed smoothly before me. Heart pounded, blood roared in my ears, my legs weakened.

      The chopping lessened as the blades stilled. The air now quiet.

      I blinked against the bright blur of headlights directed at me. Out climbed Tobias.

      He walked toward me with that casual swagger of confidence, wearing a bow tie now to round out his intimidation, looking even more formal than before, even more handsome, with that familiar earthiness and a splash of bad-boy billionaire.

      He stopped short of where I stood and locked his gaze on me.

      Brushing off a few leaves that were stuck to my trousers and dragging my fingers through my hair to remove a few more to make my point, I raised myself to my full height, trying to regain some decorum.

      That’s right, buddy, I’m not wearing it.

      I stared him down.

      Tobias stepped toward me, closing the gap between us.

      And closer still until he towered over me, his expression calm.

      Slowly, my chin rose as though daring him to kiss me and earn himself a slap. I knew better than to let this man in despite my thoughts scattering like those wayward leaves still finding their way around my feet.

      I hardly knew anything about Tobias and yet he was seducing me with the ease of a man who always got what he wanted.

      That was twice he’d scared the hell out of me. I was damned if I was going to give him the chance to do it again. He still hadn’t touched me, his hands tucked inside his trouser pockets in that seductive pose.

      I flashed a glare. “It appears we have a misunderstanding, Mr. Wilder.”

      “Yet I see the situation clearly.”

      “Really?”

      “Zara.” His breath felt warm on my mouth.

      “Yes.”

      He tilted his head slightly and his left cheek hovered near mine, his mouth close to my ear as he whispered, “It’s just a painting.”

      I tried to remember the last time I’d been this daring and nothing came close to being whisked away by a gorgeous man in a helicopter to view a secret masterpiece. My universe was all about respectful whispers around century-old paintings housed in well-lit galleries in carefully controlled settings.

      Was I going to let this adventure slip through my fingers?

      “I promise to keep you safe.” He looked sincere. “Aren’t you even a little intrigued?”

      “A little.”

      “I want you to want to come,” he said without a hint of sarcasm.

      My gaze moved over to that flashy helicopter.

      “Say yes,” he whispered.

      Whoever that girl was who’d stormed out of his house was nowhere to be seen now.

      Instead, with my hand firmly in his grip I followed him back in and we walked through the foyer and down the hallway and back into the room with the dress.

      He guided me into the center.

      “I’ll put it on.” My gaze swept over the