The Chase

This man was bloody insane.

And I was in the middle of the country and quite possibly alone with him.

Trying to pull back on my startled expression, I said, “You have a beautiful home, Mr. Wilder?” It came out as a question. “Long driveway.”

“Please, call me Tobias.”

My gaze darted around to see if anyone else was here.

“Would you like a drink?” He gestured to the left.

I knelt to retrieve my handbag and cringed when I saw the shattered glass on my iPhone’s screen.

He stood above me in that devilishly handsome pose, his face calm as though he’d not just scared the crap out of me and smashed my phone. I peered up to see his intense stare locked on mine, and a rush of ill-timed excitement flooded my veins.

He’d frozen me there with his stare.

“I’ll get you a new one,” he said firmly. “You’re three models behind, Zara. This will not do.”

My gaze swept over my phone.

He held out his hand, and I felt his firm grip as he assisted me up. I stared at him. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I think you’ll find contradicting me is unwise.” He winked.

God, I’d forgotten how gorgeous he was. How his striking green eyes crinkled so seductively when he smiled.

“I insist.” He waved it off.

My cheeks scorched with embarrassment as I followed him out of the foyer. This was my first day out in the field, and I intended on getting my act together and impressing both Tobias and my boss when he reported back to him.

For now, I’d have to tuck my cheeky retorts away.

His cologne wafted around me and I subtly sniffed him in. The scent of a fresh forest in the morning, and something spicy, something forbidden. A poorly timed vision of his naked, toned torso flashed through my thoughts.

I wondered if Tobias’s messy-yet-artful, post-fucked hairstyle was on purpose. His flawless bespoke tux showed off his tall frame and broad shoulders and his onyx-and-silver cuff links shone as they caught the light. He had the kind of walk that proved his unwavering confidence as he went about intimidating those who dared to enter his stratosphere.

He’d either come from a posh dinner or was heading out to one. Probably with some übersexy vixen who made me look like the girl next door. Might as well have worn that parka, it wasn’t like he was going to be admiring my curves anytime soon.

“This shouldn’t take long,” I reassured him.

He turned and flashed a heart-stopping smile. “I’ve already had the pleasure of a demonstration of your skills, Zara.”

“The Jackson Pollock?”

“Quite a gift.” He gave a ghost of a smile and his American aura oozed approachable and yet those stunning good looks were unnerving.

We made our way into a large sitting room, sparse like the foyer, a leather couch facing the long sweeping window from floor to ceiling. Beyond the view lay miles of lush green grass that eventually met with a forest that stretched out for miles.

All that lovely nature extended in here too with those tall thriving plants that gave the place an earthy feel. To the left there was a clear wall of glass with falling water echoing like rain along the full length of the room.

The beauty of it took my breath away.

“The house is run by solar,” he said when he caught me staring at it.

“Why the hologram?” I asked. “Is it part of your security system?”

“I tinker.”

“With holograms?”

“Inventions.”

Of course, I’d read that about him but hadn’t expected to see one so soon, and certainly not such a brilliant demonstration of what he was capable of.

Tobias made his way over to a chrome bar. From behind there he opened a fridge door and brought out an impressive bottle of Krug champagne and a carafe of orange juice and set about making us drinks. “You made a fine test subject.”

“You observed my reaction?”

“Software failed. The experiment was compromised.”

“What else do you invent?”

He arched a brow. “The nature of an invention is to create that which does not exist.”

“Obviously.”

Tobias paused as though I’d offended him.

“I’m sure it’s all top secret.” I softened the moment.

“Failure is common.”

“Didn’t Edison say something about being so close and not giving up? That you’re usually right there when you give up.”

“And how would one test such a theory?”

My teeth scraped over my lower lip as I ran through that logic.

He turned around and reached up to the glass cabinet behind him and brought down two champagne flutes.

“I’m driving,” I said. “Water would be nice.”

“Not tonight.”

“I meant when I leave later.”

He spilled a trickle of orange juice onto his hand and licked the tip of his finger; a curl of his sensual mouth, a flash of tongue.