Take My Breath Away…

For a moment, he said nothing. There were too many feelings running through him. He couldn’t have even named all of them. She was only giving voice to the growing certainty he’d had ever since the first robbery. But having her say the words, knowing that she believed them, filled a space inside of him that he hadn’t even been aware of. “A few hours ago you were entertaining the idea I was the mastermind behind the robberies.”

She whirled back to face him. “I was wrong about that. But not wrong about the fact that you hold the key. And you may be at the center of it all.”

“The center?”

She moved back to the pew. “What if the thefts aren’t about the art? What if they’re about destroying you?”

He considered it. If she was right, that did shift the perspective a bit. Opened up new possibilities. But… “Why?”

“That’s the question we should be asking.”

“The art has to figure in some way.”

She nodded. “Sure. We’ve got a good forger in partnership with someone who knows his way around systems. But why are they using your father’s M.O.—except to get at you?” She sat down and took his hands in hers. “I know I’m right. That’s why I was so focused on you.”

For a moment, Gabe couldn’t speak because he was so focused on her. The instant she’d touched him, it was just as if someone had thrown a switch. Now he felt nothing but the torrent of liquid heat she alone had the power to set off in him. And nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed but her.

It was happening to her, too. Her eyes had darkened until her irises were only a shade darker than her pupils. And he felt each one of her fingers tighten on his hand. He could hear each one of the breaths she drew in and expelled.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her lips were parted, waiting. All he had to do was move a few inches and he could taste her again. If he did…

For a moment, he let himself imagine stripping her out of that robe and making love to her right there. He could picture her as she would look in the flickering light of the candles. He could touch her the way he hadn’t been able to before.

There was a sound outside, not unlike the noise the blizzard had made at its peak. “I think that’s our ride, looking for a spot to land,” Gabe said.

“Clothes,” Nicola muttered.

She led the way back to the radiator in the choir room. How she’d gotten to her feet or how she managed to walk on legs she couldn’t feel was a mystery she couldn’t fathom. If the helicopter hadn’t been landing, they would have made love again—right there.

And that was not what she should be thinking about. Ruthlessly, she made a mental list. First, clothes. Then the thefts.

While she pulled on damp slacks, Nicola kept trying to put the pieces together like a puzzle in her mind. The robberies, the forgeries, and the holidays and Gabe Wilder. There had to be a way to make them all fit. If she focused on that, she wouldn’t be tempted to look at Gabe. But when she heard his robe drop to the floor, she wasn’t able to prevent herself from stealing one quick peek. And for an instant the puzzle pieces scattered.

His back was turned to her, and for a moment, she couldn’t drag her gaze away from those broad shoulders, the skin stretched smooth over well defined muscles. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart began to pound and her palms itched to touch him again. She knew what that skin felt like beneath her hands—the warm, almost velvet texture of it in contrast to the hard muscles beneath. She hadn’t had nearly enough time to touch him, to explore him.

And she wanted to have that time. ASAP.

What in the world had happened to the focused, driven Nicola who’d driven through a storm with the sole purpose of catching a thief? Namely, Gabe Wilder.

She felt a lot like someone had caught her. And she wasn’t doing nearly enough to break free. A sliver of panic helped her to drag her gaze away and she moved to the pile of robes still lying on the floor. But just looking at them had her blood heating all over again. And suddenly she could feel him looking at her. Every nerve in her body tingled, and she simply couldn’t prevent herself from turning to meet his gaze.

And then she wanted to run to him—just as she had that day in the office. The longing was so intense that she could hardly bear it.

The sound of the helicopter came again, this time closer.

“What are we going to do about this? We can’t—”

The reckless gleam in his eyes told her that they could.

Trying desperately to ignore the thrill that moved through her, she said, “They’re landing. We have to clean this place up.”

When he simply nodded and bent down to gather some of the robes, she let out the rest of the breath she’d been holding. Quickly, she began hanging what he handed her in the closet and ruthlessly shifted her thoughts to what she should be thinking about. Maybe if she could keep her hands and mind busy…

“Your father has to play a part in it, too,” she said. “But this thief or group of thieves is doing two things differently. They send warning notes and strike only on holidays. Why?”

“Warning notes are ego related. A look-at-how-smart-I-am kind of thing. Holidays make the thefts more of a challenge. More fun.” Gabe located a broom and began to sweep up the broken glass and flowers. “Makes more of a splash in the press.”

“And you said your father always visited you and your mom on holidays. That’s another connection to you and your dad.” She turned to him from the closet and met his eyes. “Who hates you that much? And how did they get hold of the statue your father made?”

“I don’t know. For that matter, I don’t know who hates my father enough to rake all this up. Whoever it is had access to a specific statue that was in my mother’s art studio the day my father was arrested. There should be a way to trace what happened to it. And I’m pretty sure the person I fought with tonight was a woman.”

Nicola’s eyes widened. “A woman?”

“Yeah. I fell on top of her at one point.”

She was thinking again. Gabe could tell by the little furrow that had appeared on her forehead. He could almost hear the wheels turning. It wasn’t just fresh eyes she was bringing to the case; it was a sharp mind and good instincts.

He didn’t like to make mistakes, but he was pretty sure he’d made one by avoiding her for the past three months. He not only wanted her, he wanted to work with her on catching the thieves. Plan A was shot to hell and it was time for Plan B.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Any chance this woman is working at G. W.?”

He picked up the last robe, then joined her at the closet door to hang it up. “My second in command at G. W. is a woman—Debra Bancroft. She’s been with me since shortly after I started the business. Earlier this evening she was doing a walk-through of the security we’ve installed for the annual Valentine’s Day Charity Ball at your family’s home. Your father will be able to vouch for her.” He’d arranged for Debra to handle the meeting with Nick and Marcia Guthrie because he’d been sure that Nicola would be there.

“Mary Thomas, my father’s administrative assistant, would know all the details of the case,” Nicola said. “She’s been with him for over ten years, and she knows everything my dad knows. And Mark Adams has worked right at my dad’s side from the get-go on this case.”

Surprised, Gabe tilted her chin up so that she had to meet his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to mention anyone in the FBI office. “I’m going to take issue with something you said before.”

“What?”

“You said you didn’t think you could be objective. I think you can.”

She raised a brow. “If we’re being totally objective, how can you be so sure that I’m not the one who cleaned your clock and then had my partner steal your car while I came back in here to play nurse Nancy?”

“Oh, I can be sure of that,” he said with a grin. “The person I wrestled with is taller and had a good twenty pounds on you.”

This time the sound of the helicopter was closer and louder.

“Our ride is landing.” Then Gabe did what he’d been aching to do. He leaned in quickly to steal a short kiss. At least that was his intention, but it changed when her lips softened beneath his and her hands gripped his shoulders. He sank into her then, absorbing her flavors—that honeyed sweetness with a surprising bite that lingered and lured. He changed the angle, nipping lightly.

She trembled, but she didn’t pull away. Neither did he. As the moment stretched, he was no longer sure he could.

Nicola told herself that she had to put a stop to the kiss. But it was so different from the others they’d shared. There was no shock, no blast of heat. Just a warmth that was even more seductive. And she had to figure this out. She had to understand how he could do this to her. How could he make everything else fade to the background until there was only him?

No one had ever done that to her before. No one had ever been able to make her want this way. To need this way. And as he deepened the kiss slowly, persuasively, the soft, drowsy warmth slipped seamlessly into an ache that built and built until it penetrated, not merely her body, but her mind and soul as well. She felt parts of herself slipping away.