“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.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“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.”