in the same space with him addled my thoughts, and I had to force myself to pull back on my imagination, which was teasing how wonderful his gorgeous body would feel against mine. A fantasy that felt impossible.
“Thank you for driving all the way out here,” he said.
“It’s my pleasure. I’m glad to be of help. Do you rent the property when you’re in town?”
“I own it.”
Of course he did, and it felt like such a silly question now.
He peered out the long window. “I’m not too popular amongst the neighbors. Whoever submitted the schematics for the height of the fences got their metric system muddled with the foot units and measured it all wrong.”
I had noted how tall the gates were as I’d driven through his property.
“Turns out,” Tobias continued, “fox hunters can’t jump the gates during a hunt.” He uncorked the bottle of champagne. “And their hounds are too big to fit through. So those foxes use my land as a sort of sanctuary. Naughty foxes.”
I caught his cheeky grin.
“Well, that’s quite wonderful,” I said.
“In the winter I like to stand right where you are now and look out and watch them play in the snow.”
With a tilt of champagne and a dash of orange juice he’d prepared two mimosas. My gaze roamed over him in awe.
He caught me staring and straightened his back. “Perhaps now is a good time for us to go over my expectations.”
I stepped forward, eager to hear. “Of course.”
“Now that you work for me—”
“Technically I work for Huntly Pierre.”
“Who have officially loaned you to me.” He caught me with his glare. “Let’s toast to a successful evening.” He raised a glass and offered it to me.
I took it. “Cheers.”
“We were discussing the ground rules.”
“I’d be happy to hear your expectations.”
He took a sip. “I expect confidentiality—”
“That goes without saying.”
“Unquestioning loyalty—”
“Of course.”
“I expect you not to interrupt when I’m speaking—”
“I was merely—”
He arched a brow.
His overly confident manner sent my equilibrium reeling and I had to stare out of that long glass window to regain my composure.
“Let’s discuss tonight,” he said.
He wasn’t just into controlling holographic geishas apparently. I looked around. “Sir, perhaps I could see the painting?”
“Tobias.”
I gave a thin smile. “Tobias, I’d love to see it. The painting, I mean.”
He raised his glass and took several sips, his stare holding mine.
Mirroring him, I took a sip, enjoying the delicious tang of orange and expensive champagne, and ran over what I knew about him. He was a self-made billionaire but so far he’d not acted spoiled. Though from what I’d seen he could be considered bossy.
He was the kind of challenge I usually rose to but I was here to please him. The client, my addled brain corrected my erotic musing.
Wilder might as well have had heartbreak central stamped on his forehead. And I’d had more than my fair share of that. Those internal alarms were there for a reason.
“Are you going out? Am I making you late?”
“Follow me.”
“May I get my equipment from the car?”
“No need.”
Behind his back, I took a gulp of bubbly.
I set the glass on the bar and followed a few steps behind him, relieved to be getting to the reason why I’d driven all this way. Strolling down the well-lit hallway and vigilant for any more geisha-like surprises.
“Perhaps I could see more of your inventions?” I said softly. He threw me a doubtful smile.
“Perhaps a warning next time? Before you show it to me.” I wondered what other stuff he was working on. “What kind of application does the hologram have?”
“Security, mainly. I’m currently working on a touchable hologram. One that reacts to movement.”
“That sounds incredible.” I secretly ogled his bum.
Tobias had the kind of height and confident stride most women would swoon at. We’d not gotten to the place where I could pry about his personal life. I wondered if we ever would. My lips pressed together when my brain nudged me to ask the meaning of his Latin tattoo.
“No 3-D glasses, Zara, did you catch that?” He smiled my way. “Don’t tell anyone what you saw.”
“Of course.” I breathed out in a rush of giddy excitement, realizing I’d witnessed something special.
The fact Tobias had trusted me made me beam with happiness. Being here was fricking amazing. “So the seller lent you the painting so you could have it appraised?”
He pushed open a door.
Inside 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?”
