“You’re trying to distract me, Wes. Don’t. I want to know what you’re planning to do about the thief. I didn’t press you when we were in Paris, but you owe me an explanation.”

She was right. He didn’t want to admit it but she was.

“I am going to put my Monet on display at the club. Jaxon Barrington, the owner, will host another party. We’ve got a week to give the thief time to forge the painting that he’ll attempt to replace the original with.”

“You’re not taking the real one to the club, are you? That’s too risky.”

“We have to,” he said.

“Not if I paint a forgery, too.” She spun in his arms and curled her hands around his neck. “Think about it. You can take the forgery to the club and he won’t see the difference.”

Wes was shocked he hadn’t thought of that first. Callie was exceptional at that. The question was whether the thief would fall for it.

“Do you think you could create a forgery in a few days? We’d need to put it in the club soon.”

Smiling, Callie nodded. “Yes, I can. I’ll start first thing tomorrow.” She nearly bounced like an excited puppy and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“You ready for tonight?” he asked.

Like a soldier ready for a battle, she squared her shoulders and nodded curtly.

“Callie, darling, relax. It’s a gala, not the inquisition.” He crooked one elbow and offered her his arm.

She flashed him a mock scowl. “There had better be champagne. I’m going to need a drink.” She took his offered arm and he helped her from the room. He knew she might not like the party, but she would certainly like what he planned to do later. After the gala it would be time to take her to his black room. He wanted no secrets between them, not anymore.

Chapter 20

Hang in there, you’re doing great,” Hayden whispered into Callie’s ear. Callie exhaled in relief and put a hand to her stomach. The little fleet of butterflies were starting to settle down. Finally.

“Little devils,” she muttered.

“What’s that?” Hayden asked before she took a sip of her champagne.

“Oh, nothing,” Callie covered quickly.

Both she and Hayden were clinging to the outskirts of the party. The large gilded ballroom was full of people, all dressed exquisitely. A jazz band played at the back of the ballroom, but no one was dancing. Everyone was mingling and talking. Callie’s feet hurt and she was hungry. If she ate more than a few finger sandwiches she’d bust out of the dress, which would not be a good thing.

Across the room, Wes was engaged in conversation with a few men who appeared to be in their thirties, or perhaps forties. He leaned in, whispered something, and one man nodded eagerly and shook Wes’s hand. Callie wondered if he was spreading word of the painting. As though he sensed her gaze, he looked in her direction. Those cobalt blue eyes cut deep into her and she felt raw, exposed. How could he do that all the way from across the room? Make her feel naked and vulnerable? Her skin tingled with awareness.

“Callie, you’re blushing.” Hayden’s gentle cautionary tone reminded her she wasn’t alone.

“Sorry.” She tore her focus away from Wes and tried to look at Hayden. “So how’s the wedding planning going? We didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday before your parents and that awful woman showed up.” Callie grimaced at the mere memory of Wes’s parents and Corrine. Three of the most unpleasant people she’d ever met.

“You mean Corrine? Yeah.” Hayden brushed a lock of her red hair over her shoulder. “Total bitch. And I don’t use that word except in rare circumstances. She’s been panting after Wes for years but he doesn’t like her.”

“He doesn’t?” For some stupid reason, she really needed to hear Hayden say Wes didn’t like Corrine. She picked up on the fact that Corrine and Wes had a past, but she didn’t know how serious it was.

“Corrine wants the Thorne name, and the family money, but not really him. He knows that. I think he let her join the Gilded Cuff as a joke. I hate to say it but he used her.”

“Used?” The idea that Wes used Corrine left a bad taste in her mouth.

Hayden snorted. “No one ever said Wes was a saint.” Then she sobered. “You can’t let him use you either.” She set the champagne down on a passing tray and clasped Callie’s hand in hers. “I know my brother. He’s not the kind of man you settle down with.”

A little stab of pain shot through her chest but she forced a smile. “I never thought Fenn would settle down, but you’re marrying him.” Callie didn’t mean for her comment to come out like a barb, but Hayden winced.

“I guess men can surprise us. I know Wes likes you. I just want you to be careful. Promise you won’t let him break your heart.”

Callie shrugged, trying to hide the rapid fire of emotions that tore through her. She was in love with Wes, and it was up to him not to break her heart. He did own her. The weight of the chain necklace felt permanent, like a branding iron had been pressed to her skin and Wes’s ownership was irrevocable. Her heart was his, her soul was his, and her body longed for his. She couldn’t just go back to being the woman she was. Too much had changed. The life she’d always longed for, one of beauty and art, was so close to being hers, and at its center was the man who’d made her dreams come true.

His eyes were focused on her again and she grinned at him, unable to stop herself. A faint smile flirted with his lips and he raised his glass of champagne in a silent toast from where he stood. His red hair had been combed back and his elegant suit made him the most attractive man in the room. He was the only man in the room. When he looked at her, everything else faded away.

A masculine voice interrupted her thoughts. “Excuse me.”

Blinking, Callie recovered herself and found that Hayden had wandered off while she’d been day dreaming. In her place, an attractive man with raven black hair and light toffee-brown eyes was watching her. His lips curved in an apologetic smile as he held out a hand.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. We haven’t met. I’m Stephen Vain. I’m a friend of Wes’s.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Vain. I’m Callie Taylor.” She released his hand and her gaze darted around the crowd again. Wes was gone, probably somewhere spreading the painting news.

“I hate these parties,” Vain said and chuckled. “I saw you hiding out here in this spot and had to see if I could join you for a few minutes.”

Callie laughed, knowing exactly how he felt. It would be nice to have someone to talk to while she hid in an alcove for a little while longer.

“So you and Wes are friends?” she asked.

Vain nodded, leaning one shoulder against the wall, his back to the room as he faced her.

“I’ve known him since we were ten years old. Did the whole prep school thing together.”

“What do you do? If you don’t mind me asking.” Callie wasn’t one for small talk, but Vain was friendly and his smile genuine.

“I work at the Long Island Art Museum as the curator.”

“Really?” She couldn’t believe it. An actual curator! It would have been a dream job for her.

“I heard from Hayden you are quite the artist. I’d love to see some of your work.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver engraved card case and handed her a crisp white business card.

“Thank you.” She slipped the card into her small black clutch purse.

“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” Vain prompted, his eyes darkening with a slight seriousness.

“Uh…sure, I guess.” Callie wasn’t really sure what someone like him would want to know about her.

“Are you and Wes together?” His gaze dropped to somewhere below her chin and she realized he must be looking at her collar with the clearly visible pendant with Wes’s family crest.

“Well, sort of. I don’t know,” she confessed, her cheeks heating.

Vain took pity on her and smiled. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to pry. I’m a member of the Gilded Cuff. I’m sure Wes has mentioned it.”