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“Do. You. Understand?”
“Y-yes, sir.” Where hadthatcome from?
“Sir. I like that.” He eased off her, pulled the skirt back into place, and patted her ass.
Saskia straightened and stumbled away to put some distance between them. She looked out the window, unable to meet his gaze. She just wanted him out of her life. She’d never felt less guilty about the plan than she did right now. She only wished she could find a way to steal more from him.
Lachlan didn’t pursue her across the room. Instead, he sat at the desk. “Do you have the account number for the transfer?”
“Y-yes.” Saskia retrieved a folded piece of paper from the pocket in her skirt and inched toward him, holding it out.
When she was close enough, he snatched it from her hand. Lachlan unfolded the paper and smoothed it out in front of him. He pointedly lifted the glass sex toy from the desk and slid the paper underneath it, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I’ll wire twenty-five thousand to your account tomorrow to last you the next six months. The forgery will be returned to you for the switch after Eli analyzes it. You may go now. It would be best if we didn’t see each other again until after the party. You’ll meet me here at one o’clock in the morning as soon as you’ve completed the job.”
Saskia nodded, still trembling from the way he’d touched her only moments before. She practically ran from his house. Not having to see him again for months was the best thing he could have suggested.
3
Saskia checked her hair and makeup in a bathroom on the second floor of the Raine Estate. She straightened the strap on her plum-colored evening gown for the third time of the night, wishing she had the kind of shoulders that didn’t inspire clothing mutiny.
With weeks of radio silence from Eric, Saskia had thought she might not even be able to get into the party. Maybe he’d forgotten her altogether. But when she’d arrived, the alias she’d given him was on the list.
In the grand scheme, it wouldn’t have mattered if she couldn’t get in. She didn’t need to be there at all. She’d just wanted one good night before she had to steel herself to see Lachlan again and deal with whatever smarmy bullshit he’d try with her during their next—and hopefully last—encounter.
Saskia didn’t have a friend named Beth. She couldn’t get a uniform to match those worn by the caterers—partly because she had no idea where the uniforms came from. Nothing had been smuggled on a truck. And she sure as shit wasn’t about to switch out the authentic Joseph Quill for her fake—convincing though it was.
When she left the bathroom she went up to the third floor to sneak a look at the original painting. She’d itched to see it in person, knowing it would be her only chance. As she slipped down the quiet hallway, she was grateful she wasn’t really stealing anything. She felt like a loosely connected bundle of nerves just being alone on this floor. What would she say if someone found her snooping around up here?
The door she sought creaked when she pushed it open. A spotlight shone on the painting, taking all the attention in the cavernous room. It called to her, luring her closer. Her breath caught in her throat being this close to the real thing. She had to stop herself from reaching out to touch it. It was clearly earlier work. But it was breathtaking and haunting like all the other Quill nudes she’d studied. And Lachlan didn’t deserve to have it hanging in his parlor.
She took one last lingering look, then moved quietly back down the stairs. At the end of the second floor hallway, she looked down over the balcony into the sea of party guests mingling in the grand foyer. She spotted Eric at the foot of the stairs gazing up at her. Waiting.
He was a tan, blond Adonis with cheerful eyes the color of blue topaz. He raised a glass of champagne, a question in his gaze. She nodded and carefully descended the staircase and took the glass ofdemi-secfrom him. It was tart and sweet, the lush flavor blooming over her tongue in sharp bursts. The only thing that would make it better was a strawberry—the strawberry that seemed to have just mysteriously appeared in Eric’s gorgeous hand. He held the sweet fruit to her lips, and she bit into it, a trickle of juice running down her chin. He caught it with his finger and sucked the juice off.
Saskia watched him, transfixed.
There was nothing she’d like more than to stay until the festivities died down and wake in Eric’s bed in the morning, but the clock ticked toward the dreaded meeting. Lachlan was the last human she ever wanted to see again—andhumanwas being generous. True to his word, he’d stayed away from her the full six months, with only a brief, cryptic phone call the day before asking if everything was in place for the switch.
Not seeing him for so long had only heightened her fear of the inevitable meeting. She almost wished shewasstealing the Quill piece. What if Lachlan suspected? She’d worked extra hard on the new forgery, taking a full three months reviewing all of Quill’s work even more obsessively than she had before. She’d studied the bad photograph of the piece as well as the slightly inferior forgery she’d done at the start for comparison.
It was the best work Saskia had ever done because she was pretty sure her life depended on it in more ways than one. She was certain even the artist himself could have been fooled by it, but it didn’t stop her jangled nerves over the scam and the man she was pulling it on. Still, her odds of getting away with this were way better than an actual heist during the middle of a birthday party. So there was that.
Eric flashed her a warm smile. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy the past few months, Alice. Please don’t think it was anything personal. My father is in poor health. He’s been grooming me to take over his company. It’s a lot to take in. And a lot to deal with.”
Saskia winced at the alias. She couldn’t even tell him her real name.
He was kind enough that his existence alone almost forced her to rewrite all her nasty assumptions about the wealthy. He didn’t seem spoiled or entitled, or as if he didn’t care about anyone else. Despite the ostentatious nature of the party, Eric Raine didn’t appear to be trying to impress anyone or rub their faces in anything.
He was so nice looking—not just handsome, but like anice, caring guy. And funny and charming. And he didn’t scare her like Lachlan did. Of course there was no future with Eric, even if he’d found a momentary interest in her. He could have anyone he wanted, and she was nine years older than him. If he wasn’t aware of that now, he’d pick up on it in a few years when she stopped passing for twenty-four.
Eric navigated her through the crowd in the entryway, underneath the stairs, and into the ballroom. He swept her onto the dance floor as a love song that still topped the charts played. It wasn’t canned music pumped in through a sound system. It was live. She couldn’t begin to imagine how much it had cost to get a chart topping band to a private party.
As they moved across the dance floor, Saskia felt the panic beginning to bubble inside her. She could pretend it was the jealous looks from women who had their sights set on Eric, but it wasn’t that. It was this whole situation.
Couldn’t she find some way to get out of meeting with Lachlan? He’d want the money he’d already given her returned—money she had no way of getting, aside from throwing herself on Eric’s mercy. Which would only make her look like a gold digger. As if he’d rescue her anyway. She wasn’t still young and naïve enough to believe in fairy tales.
She couldn’t explain to Eric why she owed this money. Even if he somehow understood her circumstances, Lachlan had been clear about not being implicated in anything. She couldn’t imagine she’d ever be safe from the man she feared if she opened her mouth now with anything approaching the truth.
