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“Are you kidding?” she said. “Your friends have their heads so far up their pampered asses, I could have been topless and they wouldn’t have recounted a single detail about me the next day. I’ll get a haircut and highlights before the party. I’ll wear a very different dress and a completely different make-up look, and some glasses. If any of your friends from the gallery somehow happen to be there, I’ll avoid them. They’re not going to remember one five-minute meeting that happened months before.”
Lachlan seemed satisfied. “And how will you get the fakeintothe house?”
“Okay, well there’s more to the plan.”
Lachlan leaned forward as if hanging on her every word, but she was sure it was more to get a better view of her cleavage.
Her chair made a grating sound on the hardwood as she scooted out of his reach. She stood, crossing to the French doors just to get away from him and his fierce gaze.
He swiveled his chair to face her. “Well? I’m breathless here.”
“Okay, so I thought about trying to get a job with the catering company and getting into the party that way, but I already had the invite from Eric, and getting hired on for the party would be more difficult than it seems. They’d have way too much personal information about me, and those places are intense with background checks. Plus, it’s not as if I can work at the party and be a guest at the same time.”
“Does this side trail have a point?”
“I’m getting there. So... my friend Beth works at the company that makes their uniforms. I’m sure she can get me one to match. I thought I’d smuggle the forgery onto the catering truck and slip in a few hours before the party dressed as one of the employees. It would allow me to get the fake in for the switch later that night.”
“And how is the real painting gettingout? Surely not on the catering truck.”
“I thought I could drop it out the window.”
Lachlan stood at that. The force of the movement sent his chair rolling back several feet. “You want to drop a Joseph Quill nude out a third story window?”
“Relax. Jesus. It’ll be properly protected and inserted into a tube. If someone is down there to catch it, it won’t be a problem.”
“And who’s going to catch it? I can’t be seen anywhere near the Raine Estate. They already know how much I covet that painting. I can’t be lurking around outside like a cat burglar. That’s why I have you.”
And if he could be there, her scam wouldn’t work. She knew he couldn’t be there. He’d simply have to trust her, and implying she needed him on site as part of the plan would lower his guard that much more.
“Beth can—”
“Absolutely not.” Lachlan moved closer, indifferent to how he might be intimidating her. His eyes narrowed. “Does she know why she’s getting you the uniform?”
“No... I haven’t even said anything about it yet, but...”
“No. Get the uniform well ahead of the event so she won’t make any connections, but otherwise do not involve her. What’s your alternate plan?”
“Well, I mean... I’ve seen the estate. I went to Eric’s house and...” Off Lachlan’s renewed lascivious interest she said, “Not that! I didn’t sleep with him. I’m not a whore.”
“Of course not, Miss Roth. I never suggested such a thing. You seem awfully sensitive about it, though.”
But he had suggested it with the way he kept inching closer, and the way his gaze scanned her body as if with enough concentration he’d be able to see through the fabric entirely. Or perhaps the material might shift just the slightest amount to show him the expanse of skin he wanted to ogle.
Saskia sidestepped him and moved behind his desk. She knew it looked like she was running. She didn’t care.
He chuckled in response.
“There’s a giant rhododendron on the south side of the house. It’s not under the guest room, but a few doors down from it. I could drop it out that window, let the foliage catch it, and pick it up on my way out.”
Lachlan cringed as if he could see each of the million ways that could go wrong. And if she were doing the heist for real, she’d feel pretty anxious about it as well. As it was, she planned to dance and sip some champagne with Eric and wait until she had to meet Lachlan for the hand off.
He moved swiftly behind her before she could make another maneuver to get around the heavy oak desk. Saskia tensed when he touched her back. He pressed her forward until her cheek rested against the smooth wood surface. She was intently aware of how the skirt she’d chosen exposed her to his gaze.
Inches from her face—at eye level now—was what appeared to be a heavy, long, yellow glass paperweight. But it wasn’t a paperweight even though itwasholding down stray papers. She realized this close to it, that it was a dildo. Dear God. Really? Did he intend to...?
Lachlan leaned forward, his fine linen suit pressing against her mid-priced, on-sale skirt “If you get caught... if anything goes wrong...” he hissed against her ear, “... you will not implicate me. Do you understand?” His hand slipped under the skirt and between her thighs.
“S-stop.”
