Maybe the man was still mad at him for outbidding him in the past.
She covered her mouth. “Crap.”
“Let’s get ready. And find Viola before he does.”
Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Lorenzo…you’re going to tell her?”
He ran his hand down his hair and nodded. “That’s the only way. I’ll tell her I lied about the engagement because I didn’t want the incident at the pool to give her the wrong idea of me.”
“Right,” she said in a low voice. Without as much eagerness as he, she recomposed and adjusted her dress, smoothing her hands over the fabric. Did he say something wrong? Alice reapplied her cherry-colored lipstick, eyes focused on the task, watching the result in the mirror. Her usual facial expression, soft and warm like she was about to smile at any time, was gone.
Maybe she’s just worried. Worried he would back out from their deal, despite the outcome. “I will still give you your money, Alice. No matter what,” he heard himself saying.
She tossed him a glance over her shoulder. “Of course. Thanks.”
Maybe he was imagining things. Shaking his head, he decided he didn’t have time to worry about it. He dashed to the walk-in closet, retrieved the tuxedo, and put it on as fast as he could. When he finished slipping on his fine leather shoes, she stood at the door, somehow even more alluring than before.
A small smile played at her mouth. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
Truth was, he wasn’t ready. How could he be? There was a big chance Viola would simply write him off after discovering he lied to her. And that Alice was the nanny he banged. Oh great. What if Viola got even madder at him, and not only refused to sell to him but gave his story to Paul? He bet the bastard would like that—and the possibility of exposure would become more real than ever.
Omission had been a part of his existence for too long. It was time to come clean, at least to one person.
By the time they reached the gardens decorated in much different fashion than the French-inspired Marie Antoinette party, his heart was thumping like crazy. No sign of Viola yet. He’d spotted dozens of locals who had come, all of them dressed mostly in red. Even some men had on scarlet-colored jackets and ties. A few of them had gone all out, and in the mix, he spotted Paul Smythe. The dark red shiny suit was as ridiculous as the man wearing it.
“I don’t see her,” Alice pointed out. “Do you?”
Viola always enjoyed a grand entrance, and he doubted this time would be different.
“Maybe she’s still inside the house,” he said and turned around. Alice followed him, her stride almost as fast as his. But other than a number of waitresses and staff members sauntering to and from the kitchen, he didn’t see her. Going up her room to plea for a chance to talk was far too desperate, even for him.
They checked in the library, since she had used the room for one-on-ones with guests over the weekend. Maybe he could catch her and pull her to the side. A lump thickened in his throat, and he tried to swallow a couple of times to push it down.
“Looking for someone?” Paul’s voice sounded behind him.
Shaking his head, stung by annoyance rather than apprehension, he assessed his opponent. The man he would enjoy crushing.
“Sending your wife to harass Alice was a low blow, Smythe. Even for you.”
“Yeah. Besides, where did you find this get-up? Did you raid the set from an Austin Powers movie?” Alice asked, hands perched at her waist.
Unfazed, Paul walked inside the library with a stupid grin on his face. “This is vintage Versace. Although I’m sure the concept would be lost on someone as modest as yourself. A nanny?”
Lorenzo curled his fists. “Leave her out of this, Smythe.”
“I was thinking, Lorenzo. For some reason I haven’t figured out, you want those bloody paintings more than you wish to save your reputation.”
If he only knew…
“Which brings me to the point. Why can’t you have both? If you pay me what the paintings are worth—will be worth when I get my hands on them—I won’t tell Viola about your dirty little secret with the sexy nanny.” Paul pointed at Alice.
Lorenzo narrowed his eyes. “You will withdraw from the race?”
Paul grinned. “If you make me a good offer, yes.”
Damn it. He hated being vulnerable. Kristin had threatened to expose him so many times, whenever he threw the word divorce