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There was a winding path that led from the headlands down to the beach itself. There was plenty of evidence that he worked his horses down on the beach. She loved seeing the small hoofprints which had to be from foals running alongside their mothers. Claire began walking up the path, noting the place he had planted native flora. The overall effect was lovely, and she inhaled the sea air deeply. Living on the Thames was wonderful, but it didn’t compare to living at the beach.
As she reached the top of the path, she got her first good look at Fletch’s home, which was impressive, made of stone and had a commanding view of both the beach and his pastures. He’d opted for rustic stone and natural wood fencing. The pastures all had lovely lean-tos that seemed to fit in with the feel of the place. The horses looked well-cared for and happy. She followed the path up to the back of the house, where she found a brick patio and a door leading into what she suspected was the kitchen. So not only was it pretty, but it was also practical. In many ways, it reminded her of the man himself.
The good thing about being a jewel thief was that early on you learned how to spot and get around alarm systems. She approached his back door, put on a pair of gloves before disengaging the alarm and letting herself in, resetting the alarm after she did so.
Turning around, she tried to orient herself in the house. The house had been extensively remodeled. The kitchen was enormous and boasted open upper shelves with live edges, sage green cabinets below, an island and beautiful stone countertops that complemented the colors within the house which reflected its beachy vibe.
Perhaps there would be a time in the future she could actually take a tour of the house with Fletch and discuss it. It seemed to capture all of its old-world charm with a lot of modern comforts. But exploring those would have to wait, as well.
Claire crossed the room to a niche where Fletch had situated an elegant vintage desk. Most of the electronics were hidden and she began to probe to see what she could find. He had an external hard drive, which she downloaded onto the thumb drive Mia had given her. As she was copying the information, she rifled through the papers on his desk, being careful to put them in the same precise spot. She also looked through his files, finding one labeled ‘Grenadine’ and one ‘Master Thief.’ It seemed Fletch had been tracking the pattern of her and Poppi’s thefts long before now. Using her cell phone, she took pictures of each piece of paper in the two files and then a picture of the files all in a row in each of the drawers.
Once the download was complete, Claire began to move around the main room, which looked out over the pastures and barn. She delicately poked and prodded pieces of the decorative trim surrounding the mantel, looking for some kind of fingerhold, trigger or button that when activated would reveal a safe, hidey hole, or something that might lead to some kind of secret stash. She felt like a bit of a snoop, but if whoever it was that had threatened them wasn’t bluffing, they could spend a good portion of the rest of their lives in prison.
Methodically, she began to move around the room. Two bookcases flanked the fireplace, but had been skillfully designed to hold books, various knick-knacks and framed pictures. The overall look was esthetically pleasing but it would take hours to fully search them.
She trotted up the steps to the upper level, noting a definite creak in the third step from the top. To the right were two bedrooms with a jack and jill bath between them. To the left, toward the beach side was the primary bedroom and bath. There was a large walk-in closet as well as a stacked laundry. The fact that they were navy blue as opposed to white, black or stainless steel for some reason pleased her more than it should. She was willing to bet there was a commercial grade laundry out in the barn for horse blankets, towels, and the like.
Once again, she moved around the walk-in closet, using her fingers to probe the shelving units to find any spaces that might be hidden. She grinned as she felt a kind of latch tucked beneath the molding on one of the shelves. Pressing it, she was gratified to feel a click as the shelf swiveled on some sort of hidden axis to open. She was just about to access the area when she heard the creak of the third step from the top.
Shit! Someone was here and about to find her. Claire thought about hiding in whatever was behind the shelf, but there was no way to know how deep it was. She could remain in the closet, but if it was Fletch, the closet and bath were probably the first place he would head. She ran out, grateful Poppi had taught her to move quickly and quietly, to slide under the bed, but realized there was no bed skirt to conceal her presence.
The footsteps in the hall were coming closer. There really was no place to hide. That wasn’t necessarily true. The enormous bed was flanked on either side by French doors which led out onto the balcony. If she could get out onto it, she could most likely climb down. After all it was a house made of stone, which meant natural hand and foot holds.
The footsteps were getting louder. Not enough time to get out on the balcony and hide. There were heavy damask curtains that could be pulled across the French doors in order to block out the sunlight. Trite and cliché it might be, but it would have to do.
Heart thumping, she dove behind the curtains.
CHAPTER14
CLAIRE
The footsteps hesitated just outside the door. She’d been careful to return the slightly ajar door to its original position. Had she miscalculated? Had he noticed? The door was pushed in, allowing whoever it was to enter just as she ducked behind the drapes, hoping like hell her black boots weren’t peeking out from underneath the curtains.
She heard a familiar groan; one she’d heard a number of nights before. Claire could feel her body come alive in response to his proximity—her nipples became stiff, and her pussy clenched and then softened, readying itself for his use and pleasure.Good lord; I’m as pathetic as a teenage girl after her first orgasm.
She peeked out from behind the curtains and watched as he moved around the room, tossing his shirt into a hamper in the closet and allowing her a glimpse of his muscular physique. There were tattoos and scars all over his body that she wanted the time to explore with her fingers and tongue. He really was the most gloriously made man she’d ever seen.
Sitting on the edge of the opposite side of the bed from her, Fletch set his phone, wallet, and keys on the nightside table, pulling off his boots before removing his jeans and briefs. Fletch looked really hot in clothes. Claire had noticed the admiring glances from other restaurant patrons the night before. But if he was hot when clothed, he was smoking hot when he was naked. His back and ass were magnificent pieces of work and had felt splendid under her fingers last night as he’d plowed into her over and over again.
Fletch tossed the rest of his clothes in the hamper and put his boots on the shoe rack before moving into the primary bath. The shower started up and she heard him step in. She ran around to the other side of the bed and initiated the app to install the electronic tracker in his phone.
Pleased with herself and her plan to go out the set of French doors on this side and escape down the roof, she had to bite her lip to keep from shrieking when his cell rang and vibrated in her hand. She glanced at the door to the bath, relieved to see he wasn’t one of those people who were so afraid of missing out on something that they answered every phone call, message, or text. She glanced at the caller ID: Emil Franklin. Who the hell was Emil Franklin and why was his name so familiar?
Emil Franklin. Emil Franklin. Emil Franklin, she repeated, trying to get it ingrained in her mind. Why did that name ring a bell? Maybe she’d seen it downstairs in the paperwork she’d photographed. She’d need to check as soon as she was safely away.
The sound of the shower being cut off caught her attention. Quickly, she set the phone back in its place and slipped out the French doors, moving toward the edge of the balcony furthest away from the bath, keeping herself concealed as she looked for a way down.
She saw him glance at his phone before tossing it back down and moving away from the bed, back to the bathroom. Once he was safely back in the bath, Claire peered over the side of the railing, happy to see that she had been correct in her assessment of the house’s scalability. Swinging a leg over the side of the railing, she found a good path of hand and footholds and swung out onto the side of the wall. The trick to climbing down a wall or cliff made of stone was to move slowly and steadily. Moving hand over hand and foot by foot, she gradually made her way to the ground. It might have been quicker to go straight down, but she moved diagonally so that she ended up being at ground level on the side of the building. That would give her good cover as she ran back down to the beach and made her way back to her vehicle. She would be exposed but less so than if she tried to cross his pastures or just walked up the road.
After leaving his beach without being spotted and making her way back to her Range Rover, she called Mia.
“Are you okay? He didn’t see you?” asked Mia in a frightened voice.
“I’m fine. I am a master jewel thief, after all. Breaking into his house wasn’t all that hard. You’d have thought a guy with his own security team would have, well, better security. I managed to download his external hard drive and took a lot of photos of two files. Do we know anyone named Emil Franklin?”
“The name doesn’t sound familiar, but I’ll start tracking him down. Shit! Where are you?”
“A little bit north and east of his place, why?”
