Liv thought back to the Thornton dinner party, to Nicola’s hand on Zeke, to her generous breasts nearly dripping into his lap, and decided she definitely had the capacity for jealousy.
She nodded in Zeke’s direction, amusement lacing her words. “Fighting his way through the adoring horde.”
“Shall we go save him?”
“Two more women vying for his attention might blow his big head through the roof.”
Nicola chuckled.
“Here comes Zorro now.”
“Good evening, Nicola.” As he did at the dinner party, Zeke kept his eyes on the socialite as he kissed the back of her hand.
“Black suits you.”
Zeke moved to Liv’s side and slid an arm around her waist. “So I’ve been told.”
A rotund man with a head full of thick, wavy hair and a large camera strapped around his neck paused before them to snap a picture.
“How about a group shot?” The photographer waved a hand. “Mrs. St. Martin, please join the other two.”
“Fabulous idea, Glenn.” Rather than move to either Liv’s or Zeke’s side, the socialite wedged her svelte body between them.
Glenn counted off, “Three, two, one. Smile.” He took a series of pictures, adjusting his lens and orientation in between each snap of the shutter. “Thank you.”
As the photographer ambled away, Nicola snatched a flute of champagne from a passing server and began walking away. Over her shoulder, she said, “Come along, you two. I have something old to show you.”
The museum?
Liv looked at Zeke, who gave her a triumphant smile before twining his fingers with hers and following the socialite through the ballroom.
When they neared Phin and Kayla’s location, Zeke nodded. It wasn’t much in the way of communication, but Phin seemed to understand that their plan just got hijacked. Again.
By a horny hostess, of all things. Liv kept her expectant expression in place while her mind raced through scenario after scenario like a hummingbird flitting from one flower to the next.
On one hand, Nicola might provide additional intel that her less art-interested husband wouldn’t know. However, they had targeted Hugh St. Martin because he would be easier to manipulate and distract.
Although Nicola obviously enjoyed a bit of flirting, she would watch them like an eagle as they strode amongst her treasures.
Which meant Liv would have to do her least favorite thing in the world.
Wing it.
Many, many moons ago, she had loved winging it. Enjoyed the thrill of the unknown, the adventure of balancing life on a razor’s edge. That now-dormant part of her was one of the reasons she’d been drawn to the Bureau.
However, the birth of her son had blunted her wild gene and the death of her husband had killed it all together.
“My queen,” Hugh St. Martin called in a kingly voice, with Phin and Kayla on his heels. “Where are you off to with these scoundrels?”
Unlike his wife, who preferred modern royalty, Hugh was rigged out in full, gaudy Henry VIII regalia, with his slash-sleeved doublet and striped hose. A bejeweled crown sat atop his head at a jaunty angle.
Liv had no idea how he kept the heavy thing from sliding off.
Nicola halted near a roped-off tiered glass table at the base of where two curved staircases ended. Pin lights from high above shone down on twelve black-velvet-draped figures, all unique in shape and size.
The art pieces for the fundraiser. Could she be inches away from the Kämmer and Reinhardt doll?
With the exhibit pieces already in place, the lack of security surprised Liv, until she spotted an eagle-eyed man in a suit on the other side of the table and the cameras attached to the long balcony running between the twin staircases and directly above the display table.