Read Online Eye of the Beholder by Jayne Ann Krentz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
Tags: english eBooks
Ads: Link
this to me, you little twerp?" She hiked her long, narrow black skirt up above her knees and rushed the entire remaining length of the west wing.
She came to a halt in the alcove and glared at Dancing Satyr.
"I'll strangle him," she told the beast. "I swear, I will."
She glanced around and saw what looked like the door of a closet or utility room. Perfect. She could hide the fake Icarus Ives sculpture inside until the reception ended.
Flinging her tiny black handbag onto the nearest chair, she seized the tail end of the figure with both hands and started to drag it across the carpet.
Despite her best efforts, the bronze shifted only a scant few inches in the direction of the closet.
She had forgotten how heavy it was. She could only be grateful that Edward had not had it bolted to the floor for security purposes as he had done with most of the other freestanding pieces.
She tightened her grip on the Satyr's tail and leaned into her task. There were some side benefits to working in the art and antiques field. One of them was that one developed muscles when one spent one's days handling hefty pieces of early-twentieth-century furniture.
She had not gone soft during the past year at Elegant Relic, she discovered. Evidently unpacking and arranging countless stone gargoyles and a few life-sized suits of sixteenth-century armor kept one fit, too.
She managed to get Dancing Satyr as far as the closet door before an all-too-familiar voice sent a chill up her spine.
"I'm not real fond of it, either," Trask said. "But I apparently paid more for it than I did for my Jeep, so I'm afraid I can't let you just cart it off, Ms. Chambers."
Alexa saw the vision of her reconstructed future flash before her eyes.
"Oh, damn." Very slowly she released her grip on Dancing Satyr.
She straightened and turned around to face Trask .
He stood on the thick carpet that had swallowed the sound of his approaching footsteps. He looked very large and very solid in the expensively cut tuxedo. The muted glow of the hall lamps gleamed on his dark hair and glinted on the icy shards at his temples. There was no expression at all in his eyes.
She sighed. "Nice party."
He glanced meaningfully at the statue. "I'm surprised to hear you say that. I assumed that since you're up here rearranging the furniture, you must be bored."
She followed his gaze to Dancing Satyr. "It's a long story."
"Why don't you give me the short version?"
Damned if she would allow him to intimidate her, she thought. "I wasn't trying to steal it, you know."
"Could have fooled me."
"I only wanted to get it out of sight before anyone sees it." She waved a hand at the closet door. "I was going to stash it in there until later."
He gave that a moment of what appeared to be thoughtful consideration.
"Why?" he asked eventually.
She hesitated. This was the tricky part, but the entire project had been a calculated risk from the start. Now she had no option but to fight for her future.
"There's been a mistake. Dancing Satyr should never have been installed. It's not a genuine Icarus Ives piece."
"Are you telling me that I paid big bucks for a fake statue?"
"It's just a little mix-up," she said smoothly.
"I don't like mix-ups that cost me money."
"I'm sure everything will be straightened out very quickly after the reception. But in the meantime, I don't want it in my, uh, I mean, in the hotel's collection. At least not tonight when there are so many people from the art world here."
" You don't want it in the collection?" Trask eyed her with grave interest. "Why do you care what the art crowd thinks about my collection, Ms. Chambers?"
"Because I assembled it." The fat was in the fire. There was no point playing any more games. "I was Edward Vale's special Deco consultant on the project. I did not approve Dancing Satyr. Obviously there was a failure of communication somewhere along the line."
"The same sort of communication failure that took place at the McClelland Gallery two
She came to a halt in the alcove and glared at Dancing Satyr.
"I'll strangle him," she told the beast. "I swear, I will."
She glanced around and saw what looked like the door of a closet or utility room. Perfect. She could hide the fake Icarus Ives sculpture inside until the reception ended.
Flinging her tiny black handbag onto the nearest chair, she seized the tail end of the figure with both hands and started to drag it across the carpet.
Despite her best efforts, the bronze shifted only a scant few inches in the direction of the closet.
She had forgotten how heavy it was. She could only be grateful that Edward had not had it bolted to the floor for security purposes as he had done with most of the other freestanding pieces.
She tightened her grip on the Satyr's tail and leaned into her task. There were some side benefits to working in the art and antiques field. One of them was that one developed muscles when one spent one's days handling hefty pieces of early-twentieth-century furniture.
She had not gone soft during the past year at Elegant Relic, she discovered. Evidently unpacking and arranging countless stone gargoyles and a few life-sized suits of sixteenth-century armor kept one fit, too.
She managed to get Dancing Satyr as far as the closet door before an all-too-familiar voice sent a chill up her spine.
"I'm not real fond of it, either," Trask said. "But I apparently paid more for it than I did for my Jeep, so I'm afraid I can't let you just cart it off, Ms. Chambers."
Alexa saw the vision of her reconstructed future flash before her eyes.
"Oh, damn." Very slowly she released her grip on Dancing Satyr.
She straightened and turned around to face Trask .
He stood on the thick carpet that had swallowed the sound of his approaching footsteps. He looked very large and very solid in the expensively cut tuxedo. The muted glow of the hall lamps gleamed on his dark hair and glinted on the icy shards at his temples. There was no expression at all in his eyes.
She sighed. "Nice party."
He glanced meaningfully at the statue. "I'm surprised to hear you say that. I assumed that since you're up here rearranging the furniture, you must be bored."
She followed his gaze to Dancing Satyr. "It's a long story."
"Why don't you give me the short version?"
Damned if she would allow him to intimidate her, she thought. "I wasn't trying to steal it, you know."
"Could have fooled me."
"I only wanted to get it out of sight before anyone sees it." She waved a hand at the closet door. "I was going to stash it in there until later."
He gave that a moment of what appeared to be thoughtful consideration.
"Why?" he asked eventually.
She hesitated. This was the tricky part, but the entire project had been a calculated risk from the start. Now she had no option but to fight for her future.
"There's been a mistake. Dancing Satyr should never have been installed. It's not a genuine Icarus Ives piece."
"Are you telling me that I paid big bucks for a fake statue?"
"It's just a little mix-up," she said smoothly.
"I don't like mix-ups that cost me money."
"I'm sure everything will be straightened out very quickly after the reception. But in the meantime, I don't want it in my, uh, I mean, in the hotel's collection. At least not tonight when there are so many people from the art world here."
" You don't want it in the collection?" Trask eyed her with grave interest. "Why do you care what the art crowd thinks about my collection, Ms. Chambers?"
"Because I assembled it." The fat was in the fire. There was no point playing any more games. "I was Edward Vale's special Deco consultant on the project. I did not approve Dancing Satyr. Obviously there was a failure of communication somewhere along the line."
"The same sort of communication failure that took place at the McClelland Gallery two
Similar Books
