Read Online Priceless by Olivia Darling - Free Book Online Page A

make a killing, being one of the few international dealers who truly understood Russian art at that time. His older brother, who had remained in Moscow and become a successful nightclub owner, sent many customers in Yasha’s direction.
    When he’d opened his space in Mayfair with an exhibition of Russian art that had drawn praise from the most grudging of critics, Yasha had felt that he had finally made it. Now he had a client list that read like the Forbes rich list. For that reason alone, Lizzy Duffy knew she should be more attentive to him.
    “Seen anything interesting?” Lizzy asked.
    “A couple of things,” he said.
    “So you’ll be at the sale?”
    “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it. Your boss always turns these things into quite the party.”
    A cloud passed over Lizzy’s face as she thought about Nat and his plans for the evening again. She couldn’t help feeling jealous. She tried to tell herself that Nat was just schmoozing. He might be taking Carrie Barclay to dinner, but it wasn’t a date. He was thinking about Ludbrook’s bottom line. Really, he was.
    Yasha Suscenko noticed Lizzy’s frown. “You look much prettier when you smile,” he said with a wink as he left.

CHAPTER 10

    N at had a feeling that his club would not especially impress Carrie Barclay. Her Manhattan-style elegance would be out of place among the crusty old codgers who seemed to live in the leather chairs. He decided that schmoozing Carrie Barclay required something altogether more chic.
    “I’ve got us a table at Gordon Ramsay at Claridge’s,” Nat announced as he caught up with Carrie in the lobby.
    “You’re kidding?” She was impressed. “I’m staying there, and they couldn’t find me a slot.”
    Nat tapped the side of his nose. He could get a table just about anywhere. Keeping concierges sweet was all part of his job. “Let’s get there before they give it away.”
    He hailed a taxi and helped her inside.
    Carrie had slipped into the role of rich young divorcée quite easily, giving in to all her most princesslike tendencies. She resisted the urge to open her taxi door forherself as they pulled up outside the hotel. She happily accepted Nat’s help with her chair in the restaurant itself, and when the menu arrived, she simply handed it over to him.
    “You choose for me,” she said.
    “Well,” said Nat, “that’s a tricky one. I hardly know you. Would you say you’re a red-blooded kind of girl?”
    “Oh yes,” she said, holding his gaze.
    “In that case, you’re having the venison. It’s very good.”
    “Lovely,” she said with something approaching a growl.
    The venison was terrific, and Nat did not skimp on the wine to accompany it. Though Carrie knew that he would doubtless expense this particular outing—she was a potential client, after all—she was still impressed at his extravagance.
    After a while, Carrie took off her jacket. The satin shift dress beneath showed her body at its very best. Her slender arms were one of her favorite features. She wore her Cartier watch and tennis bracelet slightly loose to enhance the delicacy of her wrists. She could sense Nat’s eyes traveling over her body, lingering on her bare shoulders, her well-turned biceps. She knew that he was extrapolating from what he could see, wondering if her stomach muscles and buttocks were just as well toned. Carrie gave a small secret smile. And then she returned the favor, letting her own eyes drift down the front of Nat’s crisp white shirt to where his belt encircled an impressively slim waist for an Englishman of his age.
    Despite his trim figure, Nat insisted that they eat dessert. He suggested that they might share, but Carrie shook her head and ordered her own tiramisu, though she knew she would eat less than half of it. When sheoffered Nat a bite, he leaned forward, as though expecting her to spoon-feed him. She made it clear that he should take the spoon himself. But her little gesture of distance only made Nat try