Suspicious (On the Run) Read Online Free Page B

up.”
    “Well, that is true. I’ll give you that point, but think about it. All those statues and paintings we’ve been looking at, how many freckles did you see? None. Freckles aren’t attractive.”
    “Yes, they are.” Jack studied her face then said, “I can see I need to demonstrate. Perhaps kiss each one?”
    “Then we’ll be so late, the opening will be over.”
    “Later, then?” Jack raised an eyebrow.
    “Definitely.”
    Gray clouds slid across the sky as they emerged from the hotel, and Zoe hoped it wasn’t about to rain. If it did, the increased humidity would erase the smooth lines she’d flat-ironed into her hair and tease out her natural curls, giving her more of a Little Orphan Annie look. At least her hair was up. She’d spent half an hour twisting her hair into a soft chignon, using several strategically placed hairpins decorated with tiny navy blue beads. If the humidity did descend, at least the frizz wouldn’t be quite so noticeable.
    They took a taxi to the museum, which was located a few blocks off the Piazza del Popolo in the northwest of the city. The first raindrops spattered down as they hurried up the steps to the palazzo that had been converted to a museum. They gave their invitation to a young woman at the door with flyaway brown hair and an elfin face who was juggling a phone and a clipboard while she kept reaching up to adjust an earpiece that continually slipped out of her ear. “Oh, Mr. Throckmorton is waiting for you. This way, please.” She guided them through the grand entrance hall to a gallery that ran around a central courtyard. Weathered statues, most of them missing limbs, and often their heads as well, lined the interior wall.
    “See—zero freckles,” Zoe said softly.
    Jack raised an eyebrow languidly. “Their loss.”
    Their escort said, “This is the end of the exhibit, the last room, but Mr. Throckmorton said to bring you directly here.” They entered the spacious room with mosaics on the floor and a heavy wood-beamed ceiling. Partial frescoes of rural scenes decorated the walls and more statues ranged around the edges of the room, but it was the jewels displayed in the center of the room that had everyone’s attention.
    Zoe could see why they would save these pieces for last. The gems glittered and sparkled. The contrast of their modern craftsmanship—relatively speaking—against the ancient art of the statues, frescoes, and mosaics only emphasized their sophisticated beauty.
    Harrington saw them and moved across the room. He was also looking distinguished in a tuxedo. “Thank you, Amy,” he said to the young woman and she left, hastily grabbing her earpiece as it slipped again.
    “My new assistant.” He winced as Amy narrowly avoided a collision with a waiter holding a tray of appetizers. He turned to them and shook hands with Jack. “Good to see you. And you look lovely.” He kissed Zoe’s cheek, and she almost made a quip about not being too sweaty for a kiss, but stopped herself. They weren’t supposed to have met for a year. She thanked him instead.
    A handsome man in his thirties with black hair threaded with silver at the temples, black eyes, and a roguish smile joined their group, his gaze fixed on Zoe. “Harrington, is this the lovely creature who rescued your piece that had gone missing?”
    “Yes, we are indebted to Mrs. Andrews. Carlo Goccetto, head of Millbank and Proust’s European region,” Harrington said as he introduced them, and Zoe didn’t miss the significant glance that passed between Jack and Harrington while Carlo kissed the back of her hand.
    Zoe disengaged her hand from his slightly damp palm. “And this is my husband, Jack.”
    Carlo flicked a glance at Jack. “Delighted.”
    “Both Mr. and Mrs. Andrews played a vital role in the return,” Harrington said, giving the titles a slight emphasis, which Carlo either completely missed or ignored.
    “Have you seen the exhibit, yet?” Carlo asked Zoe.
    “No. We just