Stiffening, Lucia feared she might snap when something gave. Instead of breaking, she tumbled off the cliff, shuddering as a hard climax tore through her.
Penelope continued, softer and slower, and Lucia groaned, shaking when her body moved along, willing to rise once more, to climb again.
“Shit.” Lucia grunted, pressing her hips harder, deeper against Penelope’s face.
Penelope understood and increased the speed and pressure of her fingers and tongue.
The dam broke in what seemed like seconds, and before Lucia knew it, her body locked again. This time, with a hoarse shout, she fell into a second climax that rattled her bones.
“God, stop, please.”
Penelope halted immediately and rushed back up. “Are you OK? Did I hurt you?”
“I’m good. No worries.” Lucia smiled and cupped Penelope’s cheek. “I just… I need a moment.”
“Hmm.” Penelope pressed a lingering kiss against Lucia’s lips. “You taste delicious.”
Lucia pulled Penelope close, basking in her warmth and nearness as the indolent afterglow swamped her with contentedness.
She wished time could stop here before reality caught up with them.
~ ~ ~
Two days later, the softness of Penelope’s touch still clung to her skin. The memory felt absurd against the marble chill and glittering spectacle as Lucia stood once more where she least wanted to be: back in the spotlight, at the center of Atlanta’s most ostentatious celebration—the Luminary Ball, the Meridian Museum of Art’s grand gala in Buckhead.
The museum had spared no expense for the opening ofLost & Found: The Art of Recovered Masterpieces—a celebration of justice and restoration. They had turned their Grand Atrium into a wonderland of lights and sleek lines.
She’d spotted Skye earlier near the entrance, posing as one of the event photographers. A planned distraction if needed, and backup if things went south.
Lucia’s gaze trailed over towering ivory floral arrangements, along marble sculptures, and up to the overhead skylight showcasing glimmering stars trying to break the cluster of clouds.
The human stars assembled in the room, adorned in high fashion, their outfits shimmering under the museum’s soft lights, had no such issue—basking in the exclusive atmosphere and congratulating each other on their importance.
A man in a slate-gray tux near the Bellini installation caught her eye—not because he stood out, but precisely because he didn’t. Nondescript face, perfect grooming, no drink in hand. He wasn’t speaking to anyone, just drifting, watching.
Their eyes met briefly. He offered a polite nod before turning away.
Lucia shook it off. Probably security. But the way his attention lingered on her… It needled.
She didn’t have time for paranoia.
Not tonight.
Lucia, dressed in an iridescent floor-length evening gown, looked the part, and she donned her most charming smile, accepting a champagne flute from one of the bustling waitstaff, appearing to be deep in conversation with a woman whose sharp jawline made you fear it might cut you.
Meanwhile, Lucia was scouting her surroundings, waiting for the best moment to steal away and head toward the Conservation Lab, where Jules’s high humidity alert had forced the museum to take down theMadonnatwo days prior, much like they’d hoped.
Earlier, a sync error between sensor backups had flagged a phantom alert, but Jules had diagnosed it and cleared it. Lucia trusted her call. They were good to go.
She stiffened, her thoughts stalling at the sight of ink-black hair and eyes dark as twin coals. In a forest-green satin gown,her glossy hair swept into an elegant twist, Penelope gave her a smile that lit up her eyes, making her seem almost ethereal.
Visions of their night together froze Lucia in place. Her heart thumped in her chest, and her grip tightened around the stem of her glass.
She averted her gaze. She couldn’t afford any distraction. It was bad enough Lucia had to endure giving the “Mr. Deveraux sends his regards and is ever so pleased to see the Bellini featured so prominently, but he had a family emergency he needed to attend to”spiel. So much harder to disappear into the crowd again.
Unlike now.
“The corridor to the storage room and the Conservation Lab is clear. They’re switching guards, so head there now,” Jules’s voice rang through Lucia’s earpiece.
