Since my teenage years I’ve secretly dreamed of being a thief, a cat burglar specifically. Semi regularly I’ll get this image of myself dressed all in black (maybe with a black woollen hat if it’s cold) and climbing through a darkened window into an extravagantly lush room. Or perhaps I’d scale up a romantic, ivy covered trellis, up a stone wall.
Regardless, I’d end up somewhere I’m not supposed to be. Somewhere lush, rich and opulent.
And I’d not steal anything hinky either. No laptops, tvs or electronics for me. Only jewels, my dear. Or I’d crack the safe (old school, of course!) and open it with bated breath to find secret documents (for Eyes Only, definitely!) and a stash of thick, bound notes. Maybe not just in pounds sterling either, maybe some Euros and rare coins to boot.
Ah, the possibilities are endless.
Rob and El are Agents, working on a case where a painting has been stolen from the National Gallery. Only problem is, neither of them really know where to look for the thieves. One of El’s ex-boyfriends (the one who stole her heart, naturally) is the only person she can think of to turn to for help in this. But things didn’t end well between El and James, and she’s reluctant to open old wounds.
But she can’t deny that James still holds her heart, and El has never been one to shy away from trouble.