SIMON WATCHED AS ADAM and Marcelina started their slow trek toward what he assumed was the bar for a drink. Glancing back, he also noted that Delia and Sophie had vanished from Tolliver’s immediate circle and had disappeared somewhere. He started making a circuitous route toward the bar himself, hoping that Sophie spied him and steered clear. For safety’s sake—hers more than his—he didn’t need anyone at the event to put the two of them together. As much as he wanted to meet Sophie’s friend, this was not the time or place for introductions.
He was still impressed with how well and quickly Sophie had managed to get her job done. She’d gotten into Tolliver’s circle quite easily. He’d been a little worried that she might be out of her league and not fully realize who she was dealing with, but she seemed to have held her own. He’d recognized her friend Delia and Adam Wingate immediately—hard not to when the two lovebirds were being splashed across every local paper and magazine—and had worried that their sudden appearance might cause problems. But moments later, Marcelina had been successfully cut from the pack, allowing him the kind of unmonitored access he could have only dreamed of.
As he moved closer, he scanned the crowd around the groom-to-be and the supermodel, but didn’t see any obvious hired muscle. Which was just as well. The level of security covering the gala was already at an all-time high for what would be typical of events of this caliber. He didn’t know if that was Tolliver’s doing, so he didn’t have to have hulks shadowing his and Marcelina’s every move during the gala itself, but he would certainly bet on it.
He worked his way closer, keeping an eye behind him as well, but Tolliver was still ensconced in his throng of admirers and hadn’t so much as looked Marcelina’s way, as far as he could tell. He was a paranoid man where it came to security, but Simon also knew he was rather smug about his power and control. Once safely inside the confines of the Institute, surrounded by security, and relishing his place as the star of the gala, he was certain Tolliver was quite happy reveling in the attention he—and his collection—were receiving. The more coverage he could gain out of it, the better. And having Marcelina and the emerald being escorted around the room on the arm of the other feted star of the night—Adam Wingate—was like double-teaming the event.
“Well,” Simon muttered, “we’ll see what we can do to ruin that for you.” He thought of Guinn, reading all the press coverage and knowing that not only had Tolliver found a way to snatch his heritage from him, but now his pride and dignity as well, by wrongfully claiming Guinn’s birthright as his own for all the world to see. He might not be able to do anything about what was in the cases, but it was the Shay that Guinn wanted more than anything else, and what Simon had personally kept him from having. One way or the other, it was going back to London, back to Guinn.
He gave a quick scan of the room, but still no sight of Sophie or Delia. He prayed she wouldn’t suddenly turn up, and was trusting that he had it under control, but wished there had been some way to keep in contact during the event. Phones, cameras and all other recording devices had been banned from the gala floor and were being held in the security office for those who couldn’t leave them at home.
Adam had just handed Marcelina a drink as Simon started to close in. She wouldn’t recognize him, and he hoped he might be able to distract the model long enough to entice her to a more private place before she headed back to Tolliver’s side. As for the higher profile Adam, he figured he could find a way to shame the man into going back to his bride-to-be, leaving Marcelina in his care. At least, that was the plan.
But it was immediately thwarted when Adam didn’t lead Marcelina back into the throng, but took the opportunity himself for a more private conversation. Simon wanted to clap Adam on the back for inadvertently doing the hard work for him, but wasn’t as certain of his plan to dismiss the blond Adonis if there were no crowds around to help ensure the guy’s good behavior.
He saw them duck into a display and had to do some nimble dodging to wind his way into the same area while not losing sight of them. Most of the guests were in the larger, more open rooms, but there were a number of couples wandering the outer exhibits as well. Many looked more interested in each other than the artwork on display, but that could work to Simon’s advantage. Later, when the emerald went missing, if people were questioned, hopefully no one would remember him.
He finally turned the last corner…only to discover no one there. There was no way out of this particular area without backtracking, so he wasn’t sure where they could have gone. Then he heard the giggling. And it sounded remarkably like what Sophie had described after bearing witness to the shower scene in Tolliver’s suite.
He casually used his body to block the entrance to the small display area, keeping other wandering couples from entering…and giving the wandering hands of the couple he had now targeted as being behind one of the display panels a chance to get further involved with one another.
The giggles diminished, replaced by a short groan or two…. Simon waited a bit longer, until he heard a bit of a scuffle, saw the panel vibrate, and one of the movable walls wobble a bit as body parts bumped, and more giggles were finally stifled by a series of soft moans.
Checking to make sure no one was in the general vicinity of the area, Simon moved closer to the shaky panel, until he could hear the unmistakable sounds of two people climbing quite rapidly toward…completion.
Perfect time then, to poke his head around the corner. “Hullo, there. I wasn’t aware this was an interactive exhibit. Well done.” He stepped around the partition and clapped his hands slowly.
There was a short, stifled scream as Marcelina clung to Adam, who had his tux pants around his ankles and Marcelina’s legs wrapped around his hips. “Get the hell out of here,” Adam barked.
Not, Simon noted, doing the least bit to help preserve the modesty, much less the reputation, of his famous partner-in-amore. “Why, I’d be more than happy to. Just as soon as I relieve your partner there of another piece of attire.”
Marcelina swiveled as best she could to get away from Simon’s reaching hands, but as her back was closest to him, there was little either of them could do without risking getting tangled up in the pool of Adam’s trousers, falling over and knocking the partition over in a sprawling display, revealing their furtive activities.
Thankful for her upswept hairstyle, Simon unclipped the emeralds and slid them from Marcelina’s neck before she could do anything to stop him.
“Wait,” she screeched. “Thief! You can’t just take them! Tolly will kill me! “
“Oh, but I can. And they aren’t Tolliver’s to begin with. Ask him about it. Tell him Guinn sends his regards. And I don’t think you’ll want to shout for the guards. At least not until you’ve gotten your pants up there, mate,” he added, nodding to Adam.
“You’ll pay for this! I’ll have half of Chicago after you,” Adam threatened, trying to disentangle himself from Marcelina, whose bunched-up gown was caught on his tux jacket.
“And here it will take only two people to bring you down,” Simon said as he slipped the emeralds into a specially prepared pocket inside his tuxedo. “I imagine your fiancée won’t take the news kindly. Or worse—” he smiled “—your mother.”
Adam blanched, but quickly regrouped. “Tell a single soul and I’ll have you hunted down,” he called out as Simon waited for a gap in guests and quickly slipped out of the display area.
“You do that,” he murmured. “And we’ll just see who pays the bigger price.”
He felt the weight of the emeralds thumping against his chest, keeping time with the pounding of his heart as he made his way through the exhibit, plotting just how he was going to make his escape. With the heightened security, it was going to be quite the challenge, but given he was carrying the only piece on display tonight not wired to an alarm system, other than the mouth of the woman who’d been wearing them, he had about a sixty-second window to find an exit and get himself on the other side of it, before all hell broke loose.
Quite likely, as soon as Marcelina told someone the emeralds were missing, the building would be put on lockdown, and each of the guests, as well as the premises, would be thoroughly searched. He couldn’t let that happen while he was still in it. Not only would it forever keep the Shay from Guinn’s hands, but it would put his freedom in jeopardy, and, most importantly, Sophie’s, as her connection to him would surely come out. Probably by her own volition.
She was determined and strong, but too softhearted for this kind of thing. He should have known better, should have known— “Ooph.”
He’d rounded a corner…and run directly into Sophie’s arms. “No,” he said, sounding as frantic as he felt. “No, no, no. You can’t be here. Not now.”
“Simon,” she said, trying to regroup from their collision. “What—where did Adam and—”
“Behind me.”
She glanced down at where his hand was over his heart, holding his jacket tight to his body. “You did it!”
“I have to get out of here.”
“Oh, right! Okay! What can I do?”
“Not be seen with me. By anyone. Sophie, I should have never—”
“Shh,” she said. “I love you, Simon. What can I do to buy you more time?”
He lifted his head. “What did you just say?”
“Go!” she said, shoving at him. “I’ll buy you more time.”
“Sophie, no—don’t go back—”
But she’d already headed back into the exhibits, and it was too late to go after her. All he could do was exactly what she’d told him to do.
Run.
And pray like hell she knew what she was doing.
“I love you, too, Sophie Maplethorpe,” he said under his breath as he made his way closer to the crowds, trying like hell to calm himself down and look like he hadn’t just stolen a priceless gemstone. “And, as God is my witness, if we get through this without doing hard labor for twenty-to-life, I’m going to marry you and never let either one of us break the law, ever again.”
He took a deep breath as he entered the main area, forced himself to slow down, then lifted a glass of champagne from a passing tray, downing the entire contents in one gulp. He put the glass down on another passing tray, then straightened his shoulders and did his best impression of a man casually enjoying the evening’s festivities, smiling and nodding as he passed this group or that, but winding his way toward the exit with purpose. He could feel the clock ticking down like a giant bomb about to go off.
He had the exit door in sight when he heard a woman’s voice raise quite distinctly above the murmur of conversation and shout, “Adam! How could you! And with Marcelina?”
He smiled and ducked his head as conversations fell silent and folks started to shift toward the back of the exhibit hall, where it appeared some kind of drama was unfolding. All he heard as he moved quickly in the other direction was people murmuring things like, “Do you think it’s Adam Wingate?” and, “I saw him with Marcelina earlier.” “Men, all of them, cheating bastards,” muttered another aging socialite. “Don’t I know it,” said another. “And his fiancée, she seemed so sweet. Beautiful girl.”
Simon had no idea how long he had before the part about the emeralds going missing was added to the evening’s entertainment, but he planned to be long gone by then. As he came close to the entrance, and the guard planted there, the mayhem behind him was rolling into a full-scale “incident.” The guard was on his radio, trying to get a report.
Simon caught his eye and, despite feeling like he was going to have a heart attack, he grinned. “Can you believe it? Bloke is rich as Croesus and engaged to the most gorgeous blonde you’ve ever seen. Caught with his pants down behind some display in the back. I hear it was with one of your supermodels. Some guys get all the luck, ay, mate?”
The guard smiled and chuckled. “Hey, you take what you can get, when you can get it, you know?”
“Yes,” Simon said, nodding as the guard held the door open for him, his attention once more diverted as someone squawked to him on his radio. “I do, indeed.”