is a shame that you’ve used up your questions for today and therefore I can’t confirm or deny.’
His gaze locked on hers, as if both questioning and insisting. Sia nodded slowly.
She could walk away now. She might not have proof, she might not have even seen the painting, but she’d been wrong when she’d told him in Victoriana that she didn’t care why he’d stolen the painting. Because suddenly the why had become the most important thing about this whole mess. Neither Bonnaire’s nor Abrani deserved to have the real painting returned, so the only person to lose out would be her.
Or she could take Sebastian up on his offer. Remain in the game for at least another twenty-four hours, this strange bubble of hypotheticals that felt incredibly far removed from real life—real life with a horrible job she might no longer have, living in a miserable flat she’d never liked, hiding from a passion she had refused to acknowledge and a desire to do something...more than valuing paintings for other people.
She turned to Sebastian, away from the questions, away from the world outside. She wanted to feel his touch, feel the truth of it, because it was so much easier than working out the lies that had been told to her and that she had told to herself.
‘Take me to bed?’ she asked.
‘Your wish is my command,’ he said, taking her hand and kissing her palm. ‘For as long as you will it.’
CHAPTER NINE
INTERVIEWER ONE: Okay...so snorkelling—tick—sunbathing—tick—swimming—tick. Gorgeous food, stunning sunsets and walks on the beach—we get it. But we know you didn’t stay in the Caribbean for the whole time.
MS KEATING: Really?
INTERVIEWER TWO: We are investigators.
MS KEATING: [silence]
INTERVIEWER ONE: When did you get to Italy?
SIA HAD BEEN reluctant to leave the Caribbean but the prospect of going to Italy had her practically skipping down the steps of the private jet that had whisked them to an airfield just outside Siena.
‘I can’t believe you haven’t been to Italy,’ Sebastian said as if disgusted. ‘It is a crime.’
‘Your definition of crime might need to be looked at,’ she replied around a smile.
‘Anywhere you would like to go?’ he asked, guiding her towards a beautiful grey convertible at the end of the tarmac. It was sleek and old-fashioned, the kind of car that made Sia want to run her hand across the bonnet to see if it was as silky as it looked, gleaming in the Tuscan sun.
‘Is this yours?’ she demanded, momentarily forgetting his question.
‘Yes.’
‘Can I drive?’ she asked.
‘Absolutely not.’
‘But you flew the plane,’ she said, knowing full well that she sounded like a stroppy child.
‘Really? That’s how you’re going to play this?’ Sebastian demanded, peering over the top of his sunglasses.
‘Fine.’ She relented long enough to return to his earlier question. ‘I want to go to the Uffizi and the Galleria dell’Accademia in Florence. Definitely have to see the medieval frescoes in the Basilica di San Francesco in Assisi, and Michelangelo’s Pieta in St Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City—’
‘Okay, okay, I get it,’ Sebastian interrupted, putting the car into gear and pulling out of the airfield onto the road towards his estate just outside of Siena. ‘You want to see everything.’
‘If we can,’ she said, a hint of reticence in her voice for the first time in days.
‘We’ve got time,’ Sebastian said, as if trying to convince himself as he shifted up to the highest gear and hit the accelerator.
The glide of the steering wheel beneath his hands as they took the familiar corners and bends in the road to his estate was strangely satisfying to Sebastian. It hadn’t been that long since he’d been here, but for the first time it felt as if he were coming home. For so many years, on the move between his hotels all around the world, working every hour he could, it had been a place more for Maria than him. But, bringing Sia here, it felt as if he were revealing part of himself to her.
But only a part.
He could afford her this small glimpse into his life because she was going to leave it. They only had ten days left now and it was because he felt that time was running out for them that he’d decided to surprise her that evening.
He smiled, the prospect of it exciting him as much as he hoped it would delight her. He looked across to where she sat beside him. Having tied a scarf around her hair to stop it whipping about her