pulling a job and was after the Renoir. I followed you both and waited until he went in.” Alex gasped and grabbed Cole’s hand. “Do you have to do that?”
“I have to clean this damn wound properly.” He ripped open the packaging for a clean dressing. “Why did you wait? Why didn’t you warn me?”
“And tell you what? That I thought there was a cat about to steal your painting? You would have laughed at me.”
“Sit still,” he grumbled and leaned forward to apply the dressing. Her blouse was unbuttoned and she wore a pink satin bra underneath—something Cole was trying very hard not to focus on.
“I needed to be certain. When he came back, I followed him in—”
“Why? Why not call the police and let them handle it?”
Alex sighed. “Cole, men like him don’t play nice. The slightest smell of a threat to his hit and he wouldn’t hesitate to pull his gun—and he did, didn’t he? There was no time to call the police.” She slapped his hand away from her waist. “If I hadn’t gone in when I did, you’d be the one with a damn bullet wound, not me. I knew something was going down. I might not have thought it through, but I was acting on my instincts and trying to save your ungrateful ass.”
Point taken. Cole sat back in his chair and studied her in silence. His gaze shifted from her flushed face down to her pink bra and settled on the patch on her hip. A range of emotions went through him and he lifted his head to meet her brooding stare.
“You saved my life and you got hurt doing it,” he murmured, his voice clouded with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. “Thank you.”
The mood shifted between them and they looked at each other in silence.
“Thank you,” Alex said softly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
“What was that for?” Cole asked, trying to hide his surprise.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
Cole had the sudden urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t break into my house to steal a painting and then see me the following day to discuss security.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Just a couple of things you let slip but I only pieced it together when I caught a smell of your hair in the library.”
“My hair?”
He smiled. “It smells like vanilla shampoo and I recognized it from the other night.”
“I really had nothing to do with the robbery.”
“I know. I just wish you’d told me what had happened.”
“I had to be sure you’d believe me. I can’t afford to have the cops all over me.” She tugged her blouse closed. “There’s something else you should know though.”
“I get the feeling I’m not going to like this.”
“You’re not.”
Leaning back in his chair, Cole locked his fingers behind his head and looked at her. “Okay, hit me.”
Alex took a deep breath. “Your cat burglar knew where the painting would be and he knew exactly where to find the library.”
“But how could he know where the library is?” Cole pushed back his chair and paced the room. “Are you sure he didn’t just get lucky?”
“No. He knew. I was right behind him and there was no hesitation.”
“And the alarm?”
Alex buttoned her blouse. “They have equipment and methods that most people would find astounding. Either he has blueprints of your house or he’s been in the house before. His plan was simple. He knew you’re a billionaire with an art fetish—”
“I’d hardly call it a fetish.”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out you’d bid on the Renoir. He cased you out, gathered his information, maybe snuck into your house before the heist.”
“But why not take any of my other paintings then?”
Alex paused, running it over in her mind. “Is the Renoir the most valuable painting you own?”
“No.”
Alex paced a few steps and then stopped. “He wanted the Renoir which means he has a buyer who’s interested in it.”
Cole cursed and dragged in a deep breath to steady
“I have to clean this damn wound properly.” He ripped open the packaging for a clean dressing. “Why did you wait? Why didn’t you warn me?”
“And tell you what? That I thought there was a cat about to steal your painting? You would have laughed at me.”
“Sit still,” he grumbled and leaned forward to apply the dressing. Her blouse was unbuttoned and she wore a pink satin bra underneath—something Cole was trying very hard not to focus on.
“I needed to be certain. When he came back, I followed him in—”
“Why? Why not call the police and let them handle it?”
Alex sighed. “Cole, men like him don’t play nice. The slightest smell of a threat to his hit and he wouldn’t hesitate to pull his gun—and he did, didn’t he? There was no time to call the police.” She slapped his hand away from her waist. “If I hadn’t gone in when I did, you’d be the one with a damn bullet wound, not me. I knew something was going down. I might not have thought it through, but I was acting on my instincts and trying to save your ungrateful ass.”
Point taken. Cole sat back in his chair and studied her in silence. His gaze shifted from her flushed face down to her pink bra and settled on the patch on her hip. A range of emotions went through him and he lifted his head to meet her brooding stare.
“You saved my life and you got hurt doing it,” he murmured, his voice clouded with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. “Thank you.”
The mood shifted between them and they looked at each other in silence.
“Thank you,” Alex said softly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
“What was that for?” Cole asked, trying to hide his surprise.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
Cole had the sudden urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t break into my house to steal a painting and then see me the following day to discuss security.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Just a couple of things you let slip but I only pieced it together when I caught a smell of your hair in the library.”
“My hair?”
He smiled. “It smells like vanilla shampoo and I recognized it from the other night.”
“I really had nothing to do with the robbery.”
“I know. I just wish you’d told me what had happened.”
“I had to be sure you’d believe me. I can’t afford to have the cops all over me.” She tugged her blouse closed. “There’s something else you should know though.”
“I get the feeling I’m not going to like this.”
“You’re not.”
Leaning back in his chair, Cole locked his fingers behind his head and looked at her. “Okay, hit me.”
Alex took a deep breath. “Your cat burglar knew where the painting would be and he knew exactly where to find the library.”
“But how could he know where the library is?” Cole pushed back his chair and paced the room. “Are you sure he didn’t just get lucky?”
“No. He knew. I was right behind him and there was no hesitation.”
“And the alarm?”
Alex buttoned her blouse. “They have equipment and methods that most people would find astounding. Either he has blueprints of your house or he’s been in the house before. His plan was simple. He knew you’re a billionaire with an art fetish—”
“I’d hardly call it a fetish.”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out you’d bid on the Renoir. He cased you out, gathered his information, maybe snuck into your house before the heist.”
“But why not take any of my other paintings then?”
Alex paused, running it over in her mind. “Is the Renoir the most valuable painting you own?”
“No.”
Alex paced a few steps and then stopped. “He wanted the Renoir which means he has a buyer who’s interested in it.”
Cole cursed and dragged in a deep breath to steady
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