French Connection Vol. 3 (4 page)

“Three years ago, when she was sixteen, my daughter became angry because I wouldn’t let her go out with an older boy she liked. She ran away to Cannes with him, and it turned out he was a recruiter for one of Alizee's clubs.” He looked down at the table, and then back up at me. “It took me a year but I finally tracked her here. I was too late. What I found was that she had been turned out, forced into prostitution and several months before I arrived in Cannes, her body was found in an alley. The police ruled it a suicide.”

Damn. I didn't know what to say. I knew if my daughter had disappeared, been hurt, been murdered... I shook away the thought, unable to imagine it. Skylar was my world, the only person I cared about more than Carrie.

“I know Alizee was responsible for her death. Even if not directly, then indirectly. The police did not care, no matter how much pressure I put on them.” Vincent's normally jovial voice was laced with anger and pain worse than anything I'd ever felt. “I have been trying to gather evidence, proof of what she’s done.”

“I'm truly sorry for your loss,” I said. “But I don't understand what that has to do with Alizee hitting on me or why you're working with her.”

“Because you turned her down, I know I can trust you,” he said. “And I needed a partner I could trust to take Alizee down. You are that partner.”

What he'd been telling me finally sunk in. Alizee wasn't just a flirt or a blackmailer. She was dangerous. A trafficker. Possibly a murderer. A murderer who was pissed at me.

Carrie.

Shit.

Alizee could go after Carrie because of what I'd done.

I pulled out my phone and hit her contact number.

Voicemail.

I left a message and then dialed again.

Dammit Carrie. My heart pounded. Pick up.

Chapter 6

Carrie

I was standing on the balcony, looking out at the ocean and trying to figure out how to handle this thing with Gavin when he called the first time. I let it go to voicemail. I didn't want to have this conversation over the phone. Hell, I didn't want to have it at all, but it needed to be done. The phone dinged to say he'd left a message and I sighed. It was probably just a 'call me, we need to talk' or 'where are you' message. I should've been the one asked where he was. I'd reluctantly come back to the room after Pierre left the restaurant, knowing I couldn't leave things with Gavin the way they'd been, but he'd been gone. No note, no indication of where he'd gone or when he'd be back. Of course, my thoughts had automatically gone a negative route.

My phone rang again. Gavin's ringtone. I frowned. He must've called back right after leaving the voicemail. That didn't seem like the kind of thing he'd do unless something was wrong. I wasn't quite sure I was ready to talk to him, but I did go to my voicemail.

“Babe, please call me.”

I could hear the worry in Gavin's voice and immediately tensed.

“I'm with Vincent right now at La Femme en Bleu and I need you to call me. Please, Carrie.”

I frowned at the phone. I was pretty sure the place Gavin mentioned was a strip club, but the fact that he'd told me his location spoke volumes. I wasn't stupid enough to think Gavin never took a business meeting at a strip club, but he also didn't generally offer the information.

I sent a quick text saying I was coming to him and waited for his response. If he said just to call him, I'd know it wasn't as urgent as he'd made it sound. Instead, I got a message that simply said, “Hurry.”

It didn't matter how angry I'd been or where things had been left between us. I went. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to him.

The cab driver didn't even blink when I gave him the name of the club and I tried desperate to keep my mind off of all the possibilities that swirled in my head. By the time we reached the club, my nerves were frayed and I barely even glanced at the bills I gave to the driver.

The man at the door opened it for me and gave a polite nod as I walked by. The place was half-full of people I assumed were mostly tourists and half-naked waitresses who were barely wearing more than the women on stage. I found it strange that a country with topless beaches still had strip clubs that thrived. I supposed it was the difference between women just walking around and seeing them dance and grind.

I caught movement toward the back and looked up. Gavin was coming toward me, an expression of pure relief on his face. I started his way, now even more worried about what was going on. It couldn't have been just because I'd gone to see Pierre. That would've been a bit of an overreaction.

He pulled me into his arms without saying a word and, for a moment, I relaxed into his embrace. I let myself pretend everything was okay and then pulled back. Gavin didn't let me go far though. He slid his arm around my shoulders and led me back to the booth next to where Vincent was standing.

“Carrie.” Vincent nodded.

“Vincent.”

He glanced at Gavin and a silent message seemed to pass between the two of them. “I think I will leave you two alone to talk. You can speak freely here.”

“Thanks, Vincent,” Gavin said. He waited until Vincent started toward the front of the club before motioning for me to sit.

Now that it was just the two of us in a secluded booth I assumed was meant for private dances, all of the day's previous emotions came flooding back. I stayed on the opposite side of the table, my hands clenched on my lap, and waited for him to explain himself.

He raked his hand through his hair and I saw that it was still damp. “I'm not sure where to start.”

I tried not to scowl as I leaned in so that I was sitting closer to him. The music was too loud for us to have an entire conversation sitting across from each other without leaning in. Probably why Vincent had said we were free to talk here.

“Just say it, Gavin,” I said.

A flash of something crossed his face and then vanished. I recognized that look, the guarded expression, and I hated it.

“There are some things about Vincent and Alizee that you need to know.”

I wasn't going to sit here and let him treat me like I was too stupid or naïve to know what was going on. “I know.”

His eyes widened. “What do you mean you know? How?”

“I was there.”

Now he looked confused. “I just found out what was going on not more than twenty minutes ago. I don't understand.”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” I snapped. “I was at the docks this morning and saw you on your little 'business trip.' You know, the one supposedly with Vincent. The one with your lips wrapped around Alizee on her yacht. Yeah. That one.”

All the color drained from Gavin's face and I saw him putting pieces together.

“You – you were there?”

“Yes, Gavin, I was there. And I got quite the eyeful.” I crossed my arms, digging my nails into my upper arms to keep myself from crying. I needed to channel my anger, not my hurt.

“Carrie, babe, that's not... I mean, it isn't...” He slammed his hand down on the table. “Dammit!” His eyes flashed. “Why didn't you just say something?”

“What was I supposed to say?” I avoided the question. “You lied to me about where you were going and who you were going to be with. Unless, of course, you didn't know you'd be hanging out on Alizee's yacht with her.” I raised an eyebrow as he flushed. “That's what I thought.”

He started to reach across the table as if he expected me to hold his hands, then he stopped and pulled back. “It's not what you think.”

“Really? Because I think you didn't want me to know you were meeting her and not Vincent. And I think that's because...” I let my voice trail off as tears started to form in my eyes. I wasn't going to cry, not here. “It doesn't matter the reason. You lied and you kissed her.”

“You must've missed the finale then,” he snapped. “Where she made me swim back to shore because I refused to fuck her, even though she threatened to kill the deal.”

My eyes went wide. That certainly explained why he'd been soaked when he'd gotten back to the hotel.

“And you're one to talk.” He leaned toward me, his eyes flashing now. “I saw you with Pierre.”

I frowned. “That's not the same thing. I told you I was going to meet him. And I sure as hell didn't kiss him!”

“You two looked awfully cozy.”

“You followed me?” What was happening to us?

“And how did you see me with Alizee if you hadn't been following me?”

“I apparently had a reason to,” I countered. “You lied about where you were going.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I wasn't entirely honest about where I was going because I didn't want you to worry. I got the impression you didn't like Alizee very much.”

I gave a snort of laughter. “How very observant of you. That's an understatement.”

“I shouldn't have lied,” he said. “Okay? It was a mistake. I should've just been honest and even invited you to come along.” He started to say something else and then stopped.

“Spill it,” I said. “We might as well get everything out in the open.”

“Is what you saw... is that why you said those things earlier?”

There was a cautious hope in his eyes that reminded me of the pain I'd seen on his face back at the hotel.

“Because if what happened last night freaked you out or scared you,” he continued. “And that's why you went to Pierre, we don't have to do any of that–”

“Wait,” I cut him off. “You think I'm cheating on you with Pierre because of what we did last night?” The expression on his face said it all. “I'm not interested in Pierre. Not that way.” I sighed and slid over so that we were side-by-side. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't love every moment of last night. I loved you sharing that part of yourself with me.” I reached up and brushed his hair back, letting my fingers linger on his cheek.

“Why did you say it then? Payback for what you thought was going on between Alizee and me?” He caught my hand in his and pressed his lips against the tips of my fingers.

I sighed and said a silent apology to Pierre. “It's complicated because I wasn't at the docks alone.”

Gavin's eyes narrowed. “You were there with the journalist.”

I nodded. “He's investigating Alizee and that's what we were doing when I saw you. Pierre said I couldn't talk to you about it because if Alizee knew he was looking into her, she'd bolt.”

“And he wouldn't be able to expose her illegal activities,” Gavin finished my thought.

I looked up at him, surprised.

“You know how I said I had to tell you some things about Vincent and Alizee?” he asked. “Well, that's part of it.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, the flood of relief going through me leaving me trembling. He put his arms around me and pulled me close. “I'm so sorry,” I repeated. “I should've trusted you, and not just about the meeting, but also that you'd believe me when I said she was up to no good.”

He kissed the top of my head. “And I'm sorry I lied to you about where I was going this morning and for following you to meet Pierre. I should've trusted you, too. Hearing you say those things about me spanking you...” His voice trailed off for a moment before he continued, “That's what I've been scared of, Carrie. This past year, a part of me has always been waiting for this. For you to realize you could do so much better than me. I thought that showing you what I really wanted was the last straw.”

I laughed and felt him stiffen. I tilted my head back so I could look at him. “And here I've been worrying that you wanted Alizee because I didn't respond the way you wanted me to, that you'd finally realized you were way out of my league.”

He looked startled for a moment and then cupped the side of my face. “Carrie, I don't want anyone except you.” He ran his thumb along my bottom lip. “I don't know what I did to deserve you.”

I slid my hand behind his neck and pulled his head down until his mouth met mine. I kept the kiss brief and chaste, aware that we were in public, but even that small contact was enough to send heat blazing through me. I closed my eyes, love for Gavin washing over me, chasing away all the negative.

“There are still things I need to tell you,” he said, his voice low. “But I'm thinking they can wait a bit longer.” He released me and stood, holding out his hand to me. “We come first.”

I nodded and slid my hand into his. We would stop Alizee, and Vincent if he was involved. We would help Pierre write his story or whatever else we needed to do. But after. Saving the world could wait a little longer.

Chapter 7

Carrie

We took a cab back to the hotel, keeping our hands linked the entire way. In the backseat, I snuggled under his arm, my fingers tracing patterns across his flat stomach. Absently, I wondered what it must've been like to watch him walk out of the ocean, his clothes clinging to every dip and curve of his body.

My stomach tightened with desire.

He kissed the top of my head, then moved down to my temple. The brush of his lips against skin made me shiver.

“I love you,” he breathed. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

I looked up at him. “About as much as I love you.”

His mouth lightly touched mine. “There are so many things I'm looking forward to doing to you.”

His eyes shone with desire, twisting things deep inside me. “And I can't wait to let you do them.”

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more. “Fuck, Carrie. I'm not going to be able to walk into that hotel without embarrassing myself.”

I gave him a wicked grin and slid my hand down to the growing bulge at the front of his pants. He stifled a moan as I cupped his cock. “You've got nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He lowered his head so that his mouth was against my ear. “Keep that up and I'm not going to care that we're in the back of a cab. I'm going to fuck you right here.”

I took a shuddering breath at the image his words created. It wasn't something I'd actually want him to do, but I couldn't deny the thought wasn't arousing. I was really glad they hadn't chosen somewhere further from the hotel. A longer ride, and I wasn't entirely certain I wouldn't have told him to go for it anyway.

When the cab pulled up to the curb, Gavin shoved a wad of bills at the driver and practically dragged me out of the car. We went straight for the elevators, ignoring the surprised looks we received. I wasn't sure if it was because we were rushing or that Gavin looked a bit bedraggled now that his clothes had dried. It also might've been that his pants weren't doing anything to disguise his partial erection.