Real fucking bad.
twelve
As expected,Stavros had extended the invitation to the wine tasting last night at dinner, and Vivi accepted on behalf of both herself and Dom without so much as a pause. Of course she did. It gave them their first credible shot at the corridor and, hopefully, the access point they’d mapped in the blueprints.
She put on the white silk dress she’d found in the suitcase Raines had packed for her, the one with a plunging neckline and a back that barely existed. It annoyed her that not only was it one of her designs from last summer’s line, but it also fit as if it were tailored for her.
She took her time with the makeup, more than she usually would, then stepped into a pair of heels that made her legs look endless. When she checked the mirror, her hair fell in loose, summery waves, the highlights catching the low gold of the late afternoon sun. She looked like the successful fashion designer she was: expensive, unbothered, and like she’d never in her life crawled through a duct to bypass a biometric lock.
Dom whistled when she walked out of the bedroom. “Jesus, Viv. You trying to kill someone, or just me?”
She let her mouth curl at the corner. “They said dress for the occasion. You should try it.”
“I did,” he said, tugging the collar of his navy linen shirt. It was open at the throat, sleeves rolled. The fit drew the eye to his powerful shoulders. The pants were just as tailored, a soft cream that made him look like a man who played tennis for fun, which was laughable. But, at least for the next however many days, they had to sell this particular lie.
She didn’t want to notice how good he looked. Didn’t want to notice that he’d shaved, or that his hair was just messy enough to look unstudied, or that the injury at his temple had faded to a shadow she almost had to squint to see. She didn’t want to notice any of it, and so of course she noticed all of it, as she picked up her clutch. It was small, white, and contained nothing useful to anyone except the ceramic pick she’d slipped into the lining that morning. “Don’t flirt with the sommelier.”
“I never flirt with sommeliers.”
“You did in Lyon.”
“That was different. She started it.” He held open the door for her. “Also, she gave us a very good bottle of Puligny-Montrachet, so I’d argue the flirting was strategically sound.”
The tasting was already underway when they arrived, a dozen guests arranged in loose clusters around a long table dressed in white linen, the evening light coming in gold and slanted through the ground-floor loggia doors. Stavros stood at the far end, talking to two older women. He caught Vivi’s eye when they entered and lifted his glass slightly in her direction.
Dom took two glasses from the tray near the door and pressed one into her hand without asking. His fingers brushed hers and sent a spark of warmth up her arm. Her nipples tightened at the contact, poking through the silk of her jumpsuit.
Dammit, why did her body react to him like this? She’d never experienced it with any other man—and she’d tried after theyended things. Lord, had she tried. But those other men weren’t Dominic, and her body knew it.
She turned away from him and took a slow sip, letting the crisp white wine coat her tongue. Something light, slightly acidic.
“Showtime,” Dom murmured close to her ear, his breath warm against her neck. “Make the rounds, establish our cover, then we slip away when Stavros is distracted.”
She nodded, then plastered on her most charming smile as a middle-aged man in a linen suit approached. Over the next twenty minutes, she worked the room like she was born to it, laughing at bland jokes, making small talk about island weather, and discussing fashion design business with a hotel heiress from Nice, which wasn’t a hardship since fashion was her second love after stealing.
She drifted toward the table, let herself be absorbed into a conversation with a Belgian couple who wanted to talk about the volcanic soil, and kept Dom in her peripheral vision as he worked the opposite end of the room.
He was good at this. She’d forgotten how good. He had the ability to make whoever he was talking to feel like the most interesting person in any given space, and he deployed it with the same easy recklessness he brought to everything in his life. Eventually, he rejoined her just as Stavros approached.
“When you mentioned a wine tasting at dinner last night, I had no idea we’d be treated to such expertise,” she said, tilting her head with a smile that had convinced far more suspicious men than Stavros to look the other way while she worked. “You’re quite the Renaissance man.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear. Though I suspect you already know that.” Stavros chuckled and touched her elbow lightly. “I simply know what I love, and wine has been a passion for nearly four decades.”
Vivi leaned in conspiratorially. “I heard your cellar rivals some of the finest in Europe.”
“Rumors of my collection have been greatly exaggerated.” His eyes twinkled. “Though perhaps not by much. Would you and your companion care for a more... intimate tour? The truly exceptional vintages never make it to these gatherings.”
Perfect.
“That sounds wonderful,” she said.
“I’d be delighted to show you both.” Stavros offered his arm to Vivi. “The cellar has been in continuous use since the villa was built. Some say it’s older than the property itself.”
Vivi took his arm, feeling Dom fall into step behind them as Stavros led them away from the gathering. She kept her expression pleasantly interested, asking appropriate questions about vintages and storage conditions as they moved through the main hall toward the back of the villa. The corridor narrowed as they descended a short flight of stone steps, the temperature dropping noticeably with each step.
“The natural cooling from the cliff face maintains an ideal temperature year-round,” Stavros explained, gesturing to the rough-hewn stone walls. “No need for artificial climate control.”
The cellar opened before them, an expansive space filled with rack after rack of bottles, all meticulously labeled and arranged. The lighting was soft, amber-toned, casting long shadows across the floor. Vivi’s eyes adjusted quickly, scanning the perimeter while appearing to admire the collection.
