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31
Zeke needed a drink.A real drink. Not this fruity red stuff mellowing in a stiletto-style glass, but a stout tumbler full of amber liquid that burned a path all the way to a man’s gut.
Five would do the trick. Enough to give him a good buzz, but not enough to take away his capacity for logical thought or ability to enunciate his words. He would need both in order to achieve tonight’s mission.
Rather than succumbing to Phin’s obvious charms, Nicola St. Martin had taken a fancy to Zeke. It didn’t seem to matter that he was here with Liv. If anything, the fact appeared to incite the socialite’s competitive instincts.
Nicola was a master at verbal swordplay. She’d spent the last thirty years sharpening her weapon on some of the brightest minds in North Carolina. According to Liv, the socialite had influenced the outcome of many local elections with her wit and financial generosity.
Six. Maybe he could eke out a sixth bourbon and still deliver an Oscar-winning performance.
When Nicola leaned toward him for the dozenth time, her full breast brushing his arm, he wondered if she’d marked him as her next acquisition. Zeke swallowed, feeling an invisible snare tighten around his nuts.
“Do you like art?” Nicola asked.
His pulse ratcheted up at this first sign that their plan was working. He looked across the table at Liv, who appeared to be engrossed in cutting her salad into tiny, even squares, rather than following the unfolding drama.
At least she’d been spared the other St. Martin’s attentions. Hugh, another space invader, had set his predatory sights on Kayla, who seemed extraordinarily amused by the situation.
Another breast brush against his arm brought his attention back to his dinner partner. Producing a slow smile, he said, “I do.”
Play the part, Blackwell. Play the damn part.
He forced his eyes to roam over her features. Still a beautiful woman in her mid-fifties, Nicola St. Martin must have been a stunner in her unblemished youth. Not as beautiful as Liv, but she would have turned many a masculine head. “The older, the better.”
She chuckled, low and melodic. “I’m hosting a fundraiser tomorrow night for the Asheville Art Museum at my home. Donors will be treated to a viewing of a few pieces from my private collection.”
“Private collection?” he teased. “Like a cabinet of curiosities?”
Another soft laugh, followed by an admonishing squeeze of his forearm. Her hand didn’t move away.
In a louder voice, she said, “My collection is much too big for a cabinet.”
“Turned my entire basement into a museum for her treasures,” Hugh interjected, sitting opposite his wife and between Liv and Kayla.
Nicola stiffened beside him, but her lighthearted expression never wavered.
“It must be difficult to keep such a large collection secure,” he said.
She turned a provocative smile on him. “Nothing is difficult to achieve with the right amount of money.”
Any thought of coaxing intelligence from her about the museum’s security system vaporized. She was too savvy and too protective.
But was she also possessive? If she was, his Plan B would sink in the water as well.
“Having a museum of artifacts in one’s home is so intriguing,” Zeke said. “I can’t imagine anything more stimulating than strolling down aisles of history whenever the whim struck me.”
Nicola’s fingers slid from his arm to his thigh for a moment. “If only my husband shared your enthusiasm.”
“Any time you would like an appreciative observer, I’m only a phone call away.”
When she didn’t take the bait, he nodded toward her other dinner partner. “My brother Phin is also an appreciator of the arts and will ooh and ahh at all the right moments.”
“I’m a brilliant ooh-er,” Phin said immediately, as if he’d been waiting for an opportunity to get into the game.
Nicola lifted her wineglass to her lips, directing her next comment to Zeke. “You are becoming more interesting by the minute, Mr. Blackwell.”
Every cell in Zeke’s body screamed for him to bring up the fundraiser again, to secure his invitation, and to end this painful charade. But Liv had cautioned them that Nicola loved the chase as much as the capture.
