“How could you know that?” she asked with a frown.
“It’s his type. He doesn’t like me, and he hates that I have something that used to be his.”
“I was never—”
“I know,” he interjected. “But he doesn’t. It’s the way he thinks. He sees himself as a winner. Someone above the rules and the laws. You said he warned you away from me last night? Well, he’s going to come on stronger today.”
Grace rubbed the back of her neck. “Geesh. I guess I’m a trophy girlfriend now?”
“Take it as a compliment,” he said.
She raised a brow. “The thief of an investment banker and the consultant I’m only pretending to be with are fake fighting over me. What a nice thought.”
“It doesn’t have to be fake.” Her face went pale and he wished he could take the words back. Damn it, this wasn’t the time or place to be pushing things. But he wanted her to know it wasn’t all an act. Sure, it was convenient, but she was smart and beautiful. There was no reason they shouldn’t take things further.
“I’m going to grab a drink,” she said, fake smile firmly in place. “Did you want another?” She motioned to his empty glass.
He looked over to where the waiter poured glasses of wine. “I’m going to find something a bit stronger,” he muttered.
Grace left him, and Simon watched her leave before switching his attention to study the other guests. DuFord’s barbeque was a joke. The man wasn’t cooking a damn thing. The entire event was being handled by caterers, waiters, and servers. But if DuFord got just one new client out of all this, it would more than cover the expense.
Simon recognized most of the people there as guests at the Summer Blowout. So if DuFord had already buttered some poor sap up, this barbeque would be the perfect follow through. Let the mark think they’ve had the illusion of time, but reinforce all the benefits of working with him.
If Simon didn’t utterly despise DuFord so much, he might actually respect him. He continued his surveillance as he circled the patio and made his way closer to the bar.
Just as the bartender handed Simon his whiskey on the rocks, Grace was by his side again.
“You’re a man of simple tastes, aren’t you?” She eyed his drink.
He took a sip as he eyed her. “I don’t know about that.” With a hand on her arm, he led her to a less crowded section of the patio, closer to the house and overlooking the bulk of the party. “What can you tell me about the guy in the blue shirt and pink tie?”
Grace looked over Simon’s shoulder and he could tell the exact moment her eyes locked on the guest in question. “Daton Gable,” she murmured. “He’s a banker. Like, works at an actual bank, not just a money-moving company. He and Mark are good friends.” She squinted at something. “The girl is new, though.”
Simon casually turned, and his focus caught on the young woman next to Daton. She was definitely pretty, but she didn’t have the same poise and polish as the rest of the partygoers. Even he could tell that her dress was probably off the clearance rack at a discount store, and her eyes darted between guests.
“She’s definitely here with Daton,” muttered Grace. “Why were you asking about him?”
“He’s one of the few people here who wasn’t at the Summer Blowout last night. I’m just trying to figure out the players here.” The girl moved in closer to Daton, and Simon frowned. “I don’t think they’re sleeping together,” he muttered.
Grace swatted him on the arm. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Sex has to do with everything.”
She stared up at him. “Okay, I’ll give you that. Well, Daton is totally into her. She just wants to get the hell out of here.”
He snorted. “What makes you say that?”
“Look at his face when she gets close.” She leaned in closer to Simon. “It’s not just happiness to have her close. He’s smug about it.”
“I can’t believe you could tell that just by looking at them for twenty seconds,” he muttered.
She let out a laugh. “Seriously? You do this kind of stuff all the time.”
“I’m not used to other people doing it, though.”
Grace’s grin managed to get even wider. “Well, Mr. West. It appears you’ve met your match.”
He smiled back at her, and wasn’t sure whether he should be excited or terrified at the prospect of a female him running around. A hot female him. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sun, and for the life of him, all he could think about was kissing her.
“I’m so glad you two could make it,” said DuFord.
Simon clenched his jaw and turned to greet the host. “Thank you so much for inviting us,” he said as cordially as possible.
Grace did a better job of hiding her surprise, and Simon wanted to kick himself. The woman was brilliant, but she threw him off his game way too much.
“Mark! This place looks amazing!” She moved a few inches away from Simon.
DuFord wore a light blue silk shirt and black slacks. Simon wasn’t the type to be scared off by pastels, but they only managed to make DuFord paler and pastier than he already was.
“Do you like the changes? I’ve had a few decorators come in, but I’m never quite happy with it.”
And there it was. Simon bit back a grin. DuFord would use this as an excuse to pull Grace away and he could slip into his private rooms.
“I noticed the colors were different when we walked in. What else have you had done?”
“You need to see the basement. I have better liquor than any bar out here, and all the wood in the floors and bar were flown in from Belize. You should come take a look. I know you’ll appreciate it more than anyone else in here.”
Grace pressed her lips together as she looked between Simon and DuFord. “I don’t know,” she said, even as she took a step closer to DuFord.
That a girl
. She didn’t want to seem too eager, but all her body language said she wanted to go. She would’ve made a fantastic con artist. “You two go on. I’m heading to the restroom and then I might catch up with a few people I met last night.”
She nodded. “Thanks, hon.” She leaned forward to place a quick kiss against his lips. Every muscle in his body tightened as he held himself back from pulling her into his arms.
“No problem,” he muttered as they moved away from him. DuFord not so subtly raked his gaze over Grace as they moved away, and a low growl escaped Simon’s throat. He’d damn well better find something he could use against DuFord in his search. Or else he was throwing Grace to the wolves for nothing.
~~~~~
Grace didn’t have to fake the look of ecstasy that came over her face as she ran her fingers along the sanded and polished wood of Mark’s bar. “Good Lord…this is amazing, Mark.” She could seriously throw a blanket over the thing and call it a bed, it felt so nice against her skin.
Mark gave her an appraising look. “I thought you’d like it.”
“Like? Like is an understatement. Love, maybe. Adore. Worship, even. But definitely not like.”
A cocky grin filled his face and Grace remembered her initiative. She was supposed to keep him busy until…well, she wasn’t sure how long. Damn it. She should’ve asked Simon. He’d probably come find her when he was done, but she wasn’t sure.
She could ask for a tour of the rest of the house, but that might lead them back upstairs. “You said you had a good collection of liquor? What counts as good?”
His face lit up and she knew she had him. Everyone had certain passions that would open them up and get them talking for hours. For most people, it was their kids. For Grace, it was Princess.
Mark moved past her to the ornate fridge in the corner of the room. “Check this out.” He opened the door.
Grace’s jaw dropped as the walk-in cooler was revealed. “You had this all added in?”
“It keeps the wines at the perfect temperature and humidity. The stuff you get here is better than anything you’ll ever get served in a restaurant.”
She ran her fingers over the bottles and wished she knew more about wine. “What’s the oldest bottle in here?” There. That was a decent question.
“Well, when I was in France last year—” His gaze shot to a spot over her shoulder and Grace turned around. Her heart sunk when she realized it wasn’t Simon who stood behind her.
“Mark,” said Daton. “I didn’t realize you had company down here. Do you have a second?”
Shit.
“Hello, Daton,” she said in her most charming voice. “Mark was just showing me some of his collection. Did you want a drink?” She almost cringed at her own behavior. Offering someone else’s prized liquor. But a job was a job, and she was tasked with distracting Mark.
“Sorry, Grace,” he said with a decidedly unapologetic expression. “Can you give us a moment?”
She tried to think of any possible excuse to stay, but came up blank. Anything she said would sound desperate and raise red flags. Her best chance was to get out and warn Simon while Mark and Daton were still talking over their super-secret business.
“Okay then. I should really find Simon anyway.” She shot Mark a quick look over her shoulder. She added a bit extra sway to her hips as she moved past Daton, hoping Mark was cursing himself for ever letting her go.
As soon as she was out of sight, she upped her pace to make her way up the stairs and through the house until she reached Mark’s work wing. She was sure someone saw where she was going, but she didn’t have time to waste sneaking in. She ducked into the study, and came to an abrupt halt the second she saw the hideous portrait on the wall.
“Awful, isn’t it?” asked Simon as he took in Grace’s disgust.
She looked between him and the artwork. “It’s just…It’s unique.”
Nearest he could tell, the painting was a self-portrait of DuFord, but everything was a bit off: the nose wasn’t quite right, and the colors were a bit off and didn’t seem to blend.
“Bet you a girl did it,” he said from behind her.
Her eyes widened as she turned to look at him. “What?”
“Can you think of any good reason for a man obsessed enough with his house to hire multiple interior decorators to hang that monstrosity up?”
Grace frowned. “You’re right. Probably a woman.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Daton pulled Mark away. You need to get out before he comes over here.”
Damn it. “Do you know how long I have?” He strode back to DuFord’s desk and double-checked to make sure everything was exactly as he’d found it. Or at least looked exactly the same. He folded an envelope and a piece of paper before he tucked them in his pocket.
“What did you take? I didn’t realize we were taking things!” said Grace in a panicked whisper as she crossed over to the other side of the desk.
“Nothing major,” he muttered as he took one last look. “A bank statement and some notes. He probably won’t even realize they’re missing.”
“Probably?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Fantastic.”
Just as he was about to tell her not to worry, the distinct sound of footsteps filtered in from the hallway. Grace’s eyes widened. “Simon, we need to go.”
He tightened his lips. “They’ll see us leave,” he whispered as he moved around the desk and grabbed her arm.
She looked over her shoulder as he pulled her deeper into the room. “Is there a closet or something we can hide in?”
“I have an idea.” He pushed open a door on the side of the study and slid inside.
She shook her head when she saw the bed behind him. “No. No, no, no, no.”
His mind raced with possible reassurances he could give that it was only an act. That anything they did was solely to make DuFord believe they weren’t up to anything. But he knew it was a lie.
So he did the only thing he could think of and gave in to the urge he’d fought all day. He pressed his lips to hers roughly and waited for any sign of protest or anger.
A second passed and she neither pushed him away nor pulled him closer. Encouraged that she didn’t punch him outright, he worked his fingers over the buttons of his shirt. As soon as they were all undone, he pulled it off his shoulders and let the fabric fall to the floor, all the while moving his lips over Grace’s. Coaxing and teasing. Encouraging her to be as tempted as he was.
He gripped her face in his hands and tilted his head for better access; he wished she was half as desperate for this as he was. When she remained still beneath him, he pulled back. “Do you still want to find a closet?”
More footsteps sounded, closer this time. Grace looked to the door and back to Simon, and then rolled her eyes. But she didn’t say anything. She grabbed his neck and pulled him down to her, finally kissing him back.
He groaned at the sensation of her lips against his and didn’t waste a second. His hands moved to her back, located the zipper of her dress and slid it down. Just the sound made him want to groan again, but he held it back, trying his best not to draw unnecessary attention.
As soon as her back was bared, he ran his hands over her smooth and creamy skin. He let himself believe the lie for a few brief seconds. But this wasn’t real. His job was to convince anyone walking by that they’d been going at it for a while.
So he forced himself to pull his hands away from her and quickly undid his belt buckle.
“Simon,” she whispered, her unease clear.
“It’s not real. I promise.” He gripped her waist and lifted her until she was at exactly the right height for their hips to meet. Grace took his cue, and wrapped her legs around him. Simon tilted forward to let the wall take their weight and pressed his erection against her hot core. The heat easily penetrated the flimsy layers of her panties and his boxers. He clenched his teeth as he reminded himself that he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of sinking deep into that wet heat any time soon.
“Are you sure you can do this?” Grace’s fingers played with his hair.
Before he could answer, voices came from the other side of the wall. Without hesitating, Simon kissed her again.
This time, she moaned, and he reveled in his tiny victory. At least he wasn’t the only one spinning out of control.
He ran his hand up her thigh, higher and higher until he reached her ass, and closed his eyes as he finally touched the smooth skin.