December Frost (A Southern Romance Monthly) (9 page)

"So…you're like Superman or Batman? You right the wrongs and find them?"

He held out his left hand and wiggled it. "Eh…so-so? I mean, I took a few of expensive finds. They were easy. It's alway easy to catch a thief if you used to think like one. And you put my brains together with the Professor's and it didn't take much. And they paid a lot of money."
 

"That's how you bought your mom's house." Cecelia glanced in the rear view mirror. She saw a single pair of headlights some distance behind them, and in the far right lane.
 

He touched his nose. "While I was working, this other thief started making a name for himself. And a few of the items I returned were stolen by him. After I found the third item and returned it to its owner, he left me a message in my hotel."

"Seriously?" She glanced at the rear view mirror again. The headlights were gone.
 

"Yeah. Freaked me the hell out. That's when I started calling him Phantom 'cause that's how he signed the message. I flew back home and had state of the art security systems installed in every one of my houses. Then I called a friend of mine in the FBI and gave him a complete report on this guy and he told me about interpol's search for him as well."
 

"So…" she frowned. "Were you at the High working for the Professor?"

"Yes and no. My FBI contact had already told me they had intel that the Phantom was going to try and steal something out of the High, but they weren't sure what. There wasn't any kind of major show going on there during the time frame given. Then the Professor called—well his daughter Blair called—and told me the Professor'd been contacted about this particular statue at the High that a client wanted him to steal it back."
 

"Steal back?"
 

"That little girl with the dog?
La petite fille de fleur.
I found out it was created by a French artist named Ribeaux. His mother was African American, his father French. Ribeaux made six statues in his life, all of them of a little girl in a different pose. The collection disappeared after his death in 1974, reportedly stolen from the family home, or so it was reported for insurance purposes. Suddenly the one with the dog and flowers shows up for auction five years ago and someone in Atlanta bought it and then donated it to the High."

"And you think the one who put up for auction had it stolen from the original thief."
 

"Or, from whom ever hired the thief to steal it. Or the person that bought it from the thief. And my hunch is that the thief who originally stole the single piece is the Phantom, and the one who holds the rest of the collection wants it back."
 

The headlights showed up again, much closer this time. Was the driver turning them off and on? And why would they do that in a snow storm? "Well…yeah. But why would the Phantom come and steal it again?"

Thomas shook his head. "I haven't puzzled that much out yet. I'm still trying to figure out how the Phantom knows so much about me to the point of setting me up in the High. And why?"

"And you called the Professor?"

"Yeah. He never called me back. I need to call my friend at the FBI as well. His name's Frank Clark."
 

She laughed. "Frank Clark? What kind of name is that?"

"Yeah I thought that was funny. But he's been a good friend and he's always been able to help me before."
 

The lights behind them were closer.
 

"Why do you keep looking in the mirror?"

"Because there's a car behind us that's come out of nowhere and the lights keep disappearing and reappearing."
 

Thomas looked out the back window which was inches from his face. "I see it. You think they're following us?"
 

"I dunno. The exit's three up. I'm going to take the next exit instead and then see if they exit too."
 

"And if they don't, and they are following us, then they'll see you come back on the ramp."
 

"No…I know the back way to the cabin. It's not actually in Red Top. That's a state park. It's a mile outside and I can get there." She didn't signal for the exit nor did she speed. Cecelia eased the truck to the right and took the ramp up to the stop light, which to her delight, was still working.
 

Thomas kept an eye on the lights. "They kept going."
 

"Might be nothing. Might just be me being paranoid."
 

"It's not being paranoid if someone's really after you." Thomas turned back around and made a hissing sound.
 

"You okay?"

"Yeah…I'm going to need to take one of that little guy's pills soon."
 

"Not till after dinner. There's a jacuzzi on the back deck and I grabbed a bottle of wine out of Lex's fridge."
 

Thomas arched a brow at her. "You going to join me in the jacuzzi?"
 

Cecelia didn't answer as she turned right down the lone road toward the cabin.
 

She was still trying to make up her mind.
 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The cabin was a bit more than Thomas would have called a cabin. For one thing, when they drove up, he thought for a second he was delirious and had just jumped into a post card. The thing was huge with a wrap-around porch, lattice work base, and a screened in porch in the back. Not only was it complete with a stone chimney on the right side, a separate two car garage sat a few yards away.
 

"You're not like…rich or something, are you?" He leaned into the windshield to look at the cabin through the falling snow.
 

"Not rich." Cecelia reached under her seat and grabbed her gun. "Stay here."
 

"You don't—"
 

She put her finger on his lips. Thomas felt the touch in all the right places at just the wrong time. He also had to fight his urge to take that finger into his mouth, as well as pull her to him. Their current situation hadn't escaped him. He was about to spend the night, if not more pending the weather, in a cabin in the woods, with the most beautiful and intelligent woman he'd ever met.
 

Cecelia removed her finger, got out of the truck and carefully ascended the five steps to the porch. Thomas watched as she pressed a panel to the right of the door, put a key in the knob, then went inside. The only sound was his breathing. Snow was silent—that's what made it so scary sometimes.
 

Lights came on from the inside, then the porch light, then floodlights.
 

Thomas released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and opened the passenger door as Cecelia bounded out of the house and came around to help him out. "I'm not hurt that bad."
 

"You haven't see you in the mirror, Mr. Carr." She once again pushed her shoulder under his un-injured shoulder and helped him to the door. He had no idea why he was so shaky or weak feeling. The idea of soaking in a hot jacuzzi was a great idea—but was he going to be able to even get in without falling on his face?
 

The stairs weren't iced over so going up them was easy. The interior was as impressive as the exterior. The main room was open, with a full kitchen, breakfast bar, stools and oak table for six to the left. On the right was a two sofa living room with an oak coffee table and large, stone fireplace. Down the center was a hallway with several doors.
 

She walked him to the sofas and helped him sit down on the one facing the front of the cabin. "There…I'll go get the supplies."
 

"Mind if I start a fire?"
 

Cecelia arched her brow. "Can you?"
 

"I can."
 

Once she left he stood and grabbed the matches on the wooden hearth. To the right was a stack of wood, a smaller stack of kindling, and a stack of old newspapers. Lex knew how to do a fire right.
 

By the time Cecelia had the supplies out of the back of the truck and piled onto the kitchen bar and table, he had a roaring fire going. It wasn't until after that he noticed a flatscreen TV mounted to the wall facing the front windows.
I love this place already.
He found the remotes on the coffee table and turned the set on.
 

Cecelia appeared beside him as he sat on the sofa. She held out a pill and a glass of water. "Take these."
 

He eyed the pill. "Pain killer?"
 

"You need sleep, and I need to get us settled, do a bit of a perimeter check and get dinner going." She pushed the water and pill at him. "Take it."
 

He did.
 

Thomas Carr barely made it through the six o'clock news about the snow storm before he closed his eyes.
 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cecelia stood outside behind the cabin, listening. She had her gun loaded, ready and held down at her side. Other than the light tapping of the falling snow against the now sagging branches of the trees, there was no other sound. A part of her was sure they were safe at the cabin. The other part of her believed being cautious and having a contingency plan was better.
 

She grabbed a fallen branch and brushed her tracks away where ever she walked. Once she was sure they were alone, she parked the truck in the garage, locked it, and got back in the cabin.
 

Thomas was sound asleep. No snoring. Just a soft, peaceful breathing. She shrugged her jacket off, removed her scarf, boots and gloves, and reset the alarm. The floodlights went off but would shut back on if the sensors detected motion within three feet of the house.
 

She checked all the locks on the windows, the back door, and then just in case, turned the heater on in the jacuzzi. She hadn't given him a pain killer, just the antibiotic. But giving him the suggestion she had gave him enough push to go to sleep. So when she woke him for dinner, he wouldn't be groggy.
 

After making sure the cabin was secure she checked on Thomas again and sat down on the coffee table, facing him. He was just as beautiful asleep as he was awake, maybe even more so. The worry line between his brow smoothed away when he slept. She followed the profile of his chin to his neck and then down his chest to his crotch where it lingered for a while. She thought again about the vision in his bedroom. Him nude and with Mister Happy
very
happy.
 

Her hand tingled when she thought of touching him in the car. Firm, hard, and ready. Cecelia wasn't that surprised when she found her own need ready and moist. She hadn't stopped thinking about the jacuzzi since mentioning it in the truck. And she'd never given him an answer.
 

Lex had said upon leaving, "There's a box of condoms in the left nightstand."
 

Of course, she'd smacked him and then promptly checked that nightstand to make sure he was right. Yep.
 

Though she was tired and wanted to rest on the other sofa, Cecelia listened to the Atlanta news and put away the groceries. Lex had warned her about the coming storm and told her to pack enough for a few days. The cabin had a good supply of the basics.
 

After the groceries were put away and a large pot of water sat on the stove to boil, Cecelia carried the two duffle bags to the back rooms. There were two bedrooms and one full bath. One bedroom was the Master with a king sized bed and a door connected to the bathroom and one to the back porch and the jacuzzi.
 

The other bedroom had two singles in it. She decided she'd take the single and give him the king size. After changing into some clean clothes—things she had stored over at Lex's place—she went back to preparing dinner and listening to the news. All the while, she continued to check on Thomas.
 

Once the linguini was done, she strained it and then dumped it into the skillet with the clam juice, clams, butter, broth and parsley and spices. After mixing it together, she pulled the garlic bread from the oven and set the table. She found a single white taper candle and holder under the sink and set it on the table between the plates, bread, pot of clam linguini and salad.
 

If she wasn't so hungry herself, and she knew Thomas needed to eat as well, she might have let him sleep longer. As it was, he'd been out close to four hours.
 

Cecelia sat down on the edge of the coffee table again and muted the TV with the remote. Her knees brushed his elbow as she leaned over and put her hand on his chest. "Thomas?"
 

He didn't make a sound.
 

She gently shook him. "Thomas, are you hungry? Dinner's ready."
 

This time he moved and turned his head. He faced her and slowly opened his eyes to focus on her. God…he was so gorgeous half asleep. But then, Cecelia was starting to wonder if there was a position this man could get in that wouldn't be sexy or gorgeous.
 

"I dreamed about you."

That wasn't exactly the greeting she expected. "Thomas? Do you know who I am or where you are?"

"Yep. But I still dreamed about you. We were—" he stopped and sniffed. And then sniffed again. When he tried to sit up she helped him and he didn't stop until he was on his feet. He looked at the table and smiled. "That smells…oh man that smells good."
 

Cecelia laughed and moved away from him. "I take it you're hungry?"

"Oh, you have no idea." He followed her to the table, saw the unlit candle, then retrieved a box of matches from the fireplace. He sat down and lit the candle. "There. Now this is a dinner." He smiled at her across the table. "Is it still snowing?"
 

"Oh…you could say that." She grabbed the remote she'd had in her hand and pointed it at the TV to un-mute it. "Take a look at all the blackouts down town and further north."