Take My Breath Away…

“Just as an extra precaution.”

“I was surprised when I saw it.”

“It’s a prototype I’m trying out. I figured this was a good time to pull out all the stops.”

There was a beat of silence before Debra continued, her tone noticeably cooler, “Should we consider making any other modifications to what we’ve set up for tomorrow night?”

Gabe gave her an easy smile. “I’ll be working upstairs in my apartment reviewing that very question. If there are any changes, I’ll let you know.”

Again Debra’s eyes flickered as Gabe turned away. This time Nicola thought it was definitely annoyance. She waited until they were back in the elevator before she said, “She didn’t like the fact that you didn’t fill her in on the prototype.”

“I’m having that problem everywhere. Your father didn’t much like it either.”

Nicola couldn’t prevent the smile at his slightly aggrieved tone. “You didn’t tell her about the forged statue.”

“I told her everything that she needs to know.”

And everything Debra Bancroft could have discovered from other sources. If she was involved in the thefts. “So there are only three of us who know about the second statue of St. Francis.”

“Outside of the thieves. I want them to wonder about it.”

Right, Nicola thought, and then she was distracted by the space she stepped into. It was a large open area with skylights overhead and a wall of glass that afforded the same view of the city she’d glimpsed on the lower floor. The inside wall sported floor to ceiling bookshelves except for the space that held a theatre-size flat screen TV.

Her gaze skimmed over an L-shaped leather sofa and matching chairs. Beyond that she caught the gleam of a black granite counter framing a kitchen that her stepmother’s chef might envy. To the left of the elevator, a wrought-iron staircase spiraled to a loft with more skylights overhead.

She shifted her attention to the work space to her right as Gabe moved toward it. The desk faced the windows, and if the rest of the apartment spoke of luxury and indulgence, Gabe’s office was a testament to high-tech efficiency. But it was the floor to ceiling whiteboard behind it that surprised her. It looked like the “murder boards” she’d seen on TV shows.

Moving closer, she studied the series of photos pinned to it. From left to right were newspaper pictures of the art pieces that had been stolen so far. And the last one was a photo of the statue of St. Francis that had been in last Sunday’s paper.

She glanced at Gabe to see that he’d already lifted the prints off the plastic glasses.

“Can you modify that sketch you drew? Take away the bandages and add blond hair?”

“Sure.” Fishing her notebook out, she did what he’d asked and then handed it to him.

“I’ll upload it into my computer along with the fingerprints and start a scan.”

“What else can I do?”

“Take a good look at the whiteboard and tell me what you see. I need a fresh perspective.” He didn’t bother to glance up from what he was doing.

He was all business again, and Nicola, for the first time, was eager to follow his lead. The board intrigued her.

“Tell me your thoughts as you go along,” Gabe suggested. “I’m at the point where I’m seeing the same things, thinking the same scenarios.”

“I know just what you mean.” She stepped closer to the board and studied the photo of the first piece of art.

Then she skimmed through the newspaper report. “The Monet was taken while the Langfords were having Thanksgiving dinner with friends, specifically my parents and me. Their house showed no signs of forced entry. Since the painting was still on the wall, they thought the note from the thief was a practical joke. Until they called my dad.”

“Your thoughts?” Gabe asked.

“The thief either had the security code or possessed the skill to disarm the alarm system. The house was empty.” She turned to face him. “Someone skilled at disabling alarms or someone who had access to the codes could have pulled this off alone. No inside man needed.”

Gabe looked at the board and nodded. “I agree. They would have had to know that the Langfords had art worth the trouble and that they would be out of the house on Thanksgiving Day. But that’s Research 101 for a good thief, and this one is very good. What about the next robbery?”

She turned her attention to the board. The photo was of a lovely color print of a Degas that had been stolen from the Glastons. The newspaper headline read: Christmas Day Robbery in the Suburbs.

“The whole Glaston clan, twenty-four in all, was there eating dinner. The chef had hired in a catering service. At some point, the note was dropped through a mail slot in the front door. The painting was kept in a glass case with its own separate security system.” She turned to Gabe, intending to ask about the alarm, but once she met his eyes the question faded away.

He was closer than she’d realized. So close that their bodies had nearly brushed when she’d turned. If either of them made the slightest movement, they would come into contact. And she could read the awareness of that in his eyes. What she should do was take a step away and put some distance between them, but when an ache in her belly blossomed, all she could think of was that if she stepped a little closer…or if he did…

His gaze lowered to her mouth and lingered for one long moment. The ache in her belly stretched into longing, and her heart began to beat so loud that the sound of it seemed to fill the room. Still, she didn’t move. Neither did he.

“I really like your mouth,” he said.

She was so close to him that his scent filled the air—soap and something so male, so right, that it made her mouth water. The temptation to step forward grew.

Still, she fought it. Making love again was not what they’d come here for. “You’re interfering with my ability to think again.”

“It’s mutual, Curls.”

The nickname had her frowning. “I don’t have them any more. And you wanted my thoughts on the case.”

“True.”

They were in agreement, so why couldn’t she make herself turn back to the board? Or why didn’t he? She had to get a grip on this.

“Maybe we both need a little something to tide us over.” He leaned in quick and did what he’d been wanting to do, what he’d been aching to do since he’d left her the night before. He kissed her. Just a quick one, he promised himself. But the instant he covered her mouth with his, her response was so generous, her flavor so…necessary…that he was lost.

Sensations hammered at him, through him, until he was sure his blood began to sizzle. Her mouth burned on his like a brand, and the need inside of him built until it was so sharp, so jagged, it sliced right through to his soul.

He could feel parts of himself slipping away and fear slid up his spine. No woman had ever been able to do this to him.

Only this one.

It was that thought that gave him the will to set her away from him and step back. He drew in a deep gulp of air, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get his breath back again. And looking at her with her lips swollen, her eyes dazed, had desire cutting through him again. He clamped down on the urge to just grab her and finish what he’d started. “Well,” was all he managed to say.

“Well,” she echoed. She felt as if she’d been knocked flat and come close to being out for the count. He’d kissed her before. Shouldn’t she have been more prepared? But once his mouth had touched hers, there’d been nothing else but him. Nothing.

No one had ever had that kind of power over her. Only this man. And she needed to think about that. Once her brain cells clicked on again. And she needed to think about something besides jumping him.

“The case.”

They said the words together, and Gabe smiled at her. “Nice to know that our minds are as in tune as our bodies.”

“It’s our minds that we came up here to use.” It gave Nicola some satisfaction that she was the first to break eye contact and turn back to the photo of the Degas. But it took her a moment to bring the picture into focus. “Because the family was at home, this job presented more of a challenge.”

“But it still could have been a one-man job. My father could have pulled it off quite easily, I imagine.”

“But your dad would have created his own forgeries. You don’t think that’s the case here.”

“No. As I said, someone with my father’s talent is rare.”

“So, hypothetically, one person on the team is good at breaking through security, making the switch and then getting away. She may very well be the one who’s lying in that hospital room. Another one is talented at French Impressionist painting. But is it a two-man team or are there more?”

“That brings us to theft number three,” Gabe said.

Nicola turned her attention to it. The headline read: Third Holiday Robbery.

“The Baileys were celebrating New Year’s Eve with three hundred friends, and they’d locked the Pissaro in a floor safe. The note was delivered to the front door shortly after midnight and the butler handed it personally to Mr. Bailey.”

“I personally installed the safe and set up the security code a few days before the robbery. The Baileys wanted extra precautions taken. I also installed two cameras with out telling the Baileys. The thief or thieves disabled them.”