Lucy’s breath caught in her chest. As if in slow-mo, she handed him the contract.
“Just open it to the signature page for me.” Alec pointed at the white tablecloth. “I have butter on my fingers.”
No. She needed him to touch the plastic cover. “Don’t you want to read it?” Her voice sounded tight. He had to read the thing to mark it with his print.
“What is your time frame and fee?”
“Four weeks. Twenty-five now, twenty-five when I’m done.” It was fair. The same contract she had given collectors all over the world. She’d considered raising the price, but remembered, pigs got fat, but hogs got slaughtered.
There was enough pork in this deal already with Gino.
“Sounds good.”
“You should read it.”
“I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t trust me.” The words slipped out. Lucy rushed to cover them with generalities. “I mean, you shouldn’t trust anyone. You’re one of the richest men in the world. I might be taking advantage of you.”
“I can only hope.” Alec lifted his brows and smiled. “Pen?”
The contract lay on the table between them unopened. Lucy scrambled in her briefcase and handed him a pen. Alec wiped his hands clean with a napkin and carefully opened the contract to the last page. Lucy watched his thumb brush the top and flip open the pages.
Was it enough of thumbprint? After the whole knife-in-Joey’s-hand episode, she wanted to get it right this time. She did not want to have to come back. She regarded the opened plastic cover with dawning dismay. This would never work. It was a ridiculous plan.
Alec signed with sharp strokes, unaware of her turmoil. Anger swelled up in Lucy. Of course he would sign his name that way, all sharp, forward slanting, no loops, no tilt—just hard-driving letters—and no thumbprint in sight.
“You won’t be able to start your appraisal today.”
“What?” His words jarred her eyes away from the page.
She hadn’t planned on doing the appraisal at all. The contract he didn’t read allowed her to cancel without notice. She had planned on making the print drop and coaxing Joey into a nice relaxing trip to Rio de Janeiro. She already had the tickets in her car, 2 p.m., one-way through Miami. She would ply him with the promise of business class, unlimited Jack and Coke, and topless ladies in thongs on the Copacabana beach.
“You won’t be able to start today,” Alec repeated. “Someone stole my keycard last night.” He lifted his dark blue gaze to her and held her eyes until she looked away. “All the security codes are being reconfigured. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to start.”
“Tomorrow…” Tomorrow seemed a lifetime away. Panic clawed at her stomach. She would have to go home, to Joey and Bruno and Gino. Joey would be upset that she hadn’t gotten a good print. No way would he leave with her. Gino would be angry, very angry.
“Maybe I could do some preliminary work here?” And stalk his thumb around the casino like a fingerprinting bloodhound.
“The whole exhibit is sealed.”
“I’m sure I can find something to do.”
Alec leaned toward her. “What would it take for you to relax, not think about work for a day?”
“Relax?” Lucy crossed her arms, beyond annoyed at his patronizing tone.
“You know, your muscles are loose and your mind floats? Kind of like sleeping, but you’re awake.” Alec tilted his chair back. His stomach muscles contracted under the damp shirt, and she got a faint whiff of just-exercised man. She inhaled deeply, holding the scent in her lungs until she had to let it go.
“Must be nice to have no worries.” Her words were harsh, even to her ears.
Alec thumped the front of the chair down on the carpet. “Oh, I have worries. I just know how to put them aside for a while. Enjoy the pleasures of life.”
“We’re back to sex, aren’t we? The cure-all for what ails you.”
“Absolutely.” Alec smiled, picked up her hand, and ran his thumb up the pads of her index and middle fingers. A shiver danced in her belly at his touch. A gypsy had once told her that because her love line stretched to her index finger, she would have a passionate love life. She always figured it was nonsense. This man made her wonder.
“I bet if I had my assistant book us at the spa for the day that you wouldn’t go along with it.” Alec released her palm and sat back with his fingers steepled on the table.
Lucy cradled her hand to her chest. “You’re right.” She’d never even had a pedicure before. She didn’t have time for a bunch of frou-frou nonsense. Inside her briefcase, her phone rang, a nice old fashioned ring-ring. She looked at the phone face before silencing it and setting it on the table. It was Joey. Dammit. She’d told them to give her some time.
“What do you want more than anything else in the world?” Alec asked.
Lucy tried to follow his absurd conversation. “Lode Berken’s custom jewel loupe and cutting set.” It was true, she did want the set, never mind that it was secured behind three-inch thick bulletproof glass in a Tel Aviv museum.
“Lode Berken?”
“The creator of the diamond polishing wheel. It’s in the international jewel museum in Israel.”
“Ahhh.” Alec smiled. “So it’s one of a kind.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll bet you a replica of Berken’s set that even if you spend the day with me at the spa, you’ll still not be able to relax.”
Seriously? Lucy’s mouth gaped open. He was still on the spa? He might as well have suggested she bake a cake and have a birthday party, with freakin’ candles and balloons and party hats.
“You can’t deliver a set like his. Berken spent his lifetime collecting the jewels on it.”
“What if I could?”
What if he could? Lucy zeroed in on his face, noting his navy-blue eyes were leveled on hers. He seemed undaunted, a man who had pushed a pawn into her territory for her to sidestep or trounce. Her choice.
“Let me get this straight. All I have to do is go to the spa with you—and relax—to win a replica of a priceless national heirloom.”
“Yep.”
“And what would I lose if I can’t relax?”
“Dinner.” Alec smiled. “After the spa, of course.”
“That seems like a very uneven bet.”
“All the best ones are.”
Her phone rang again, vibrating on the table. It was Gino this time. Lucy jabbed the silence button. Damn. Damn. Damn. Why wouldn’t they leave her alone?
Fury, anger, hopelessness built in her chest until she felt like she would explode in an irrational tirade of Italian profanity. She took a deep breath, swallowed the words, and chewed on her lip.
Alec took another sip of his juice, all relaxed and at ease, the smug king of his freakin’ kingdom. Lucy swallowed a shuddering exhale and took another breath. She held it and focused on his too handsome face. He deserved to pay up. It would be nothing to him.
Why not?
Why not go to the freakin’ spa with a man with more money than she could imagine and fewer worries than Zeus? Maybe she could nab his thumbprint while he was getting a facial. At the very least, she could hide out from Gino and Joey.
Lucy stood up from the table and extended her hand to shake. “I’ll take your bet.”
“Oh no, this kind of agreement requires a different binder.” Alec pushed himself to his feet and stepped around the table.
Lucy stepped back. He was going to kiss her again.
Her lips tingled and her gut tightened in anticipation. That kiss yesterday had been one of the best of her life, pulling her body into sharp awareness. She should stop him, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to feel her nerves come alive, one last time.