Read I'd Rather Be In Paris Online
Authors: Misty Evans
I'd Rather Be In Paris (26 page)
Annette forced herself to stare down Alexandrov Dmitri, her heart pounding erratically. It was one thing to talk to a terrorist on a phone, quite another in person. Sweat trickled down her spine. “They're at Villa Bernier. Now our deal is complete. I want my sister."
Dmitri wagged a finger at her. “You must deliver Zara Morgan to me. Alive."
Again the bastard changed the rules. She wasn't surprised, only more determined. “That wasn't the deal. I held up my end and kept you informed about Zara's activities and about the CIA's mission to track you down. I dropped your coordinates in her and Lawson's lap. I expect you to hold up your end and get Biaggio to turn my sister loose."
He moved like lightning, his hands going around her throat before she could blink. Her own hands pulled at his wrists, trying to break their steel clamp as he forced her down to her knees.
"You forget, Special Agent Newton,” he ground out between his teeth even as he dug his fingers into her neck. “You have no power over me. If you want your sister to leave the Family's clutches, you'll bring Zara Morgan to me. Tonight. My lieutenant will follow you and ensure your cooperation."
His thumbs pushed further into her throat, cutting off her air. “And for your insolence, you'll deliver Vaughn to me as well. Understand?"
She nodded yes, what else could she do? He released her, and she fell to the floor, clutching her bruised neck. She swallowed several times, coughed. Her voice came out hoarse. “Zara's one thing. Vaughn is another. I doubt I can bring him in alive."
Dmitri hauled her to her feet. He brushed at her shirt, patted her arm and pushed her toward the door. A snap of his finger and the man standing to his right immediately fell into step beside her. “Then bring him in dead. I really don't care. Just do it, or your sister stays exactly where she is."
With Dmitri's lieutenant on her heels, Annette stumbled out the door and past the security goons, rubbing her neck again as she fought back tears. What was she going to do now?
Lawson released the clip in his Heckler and Koch and checked it for the third time. Satisfied it was fully loaded, he clicked it back in and slid the gun into the waistband of his jeans. As he sat on the bed, he shoved his feet into his combat boots and began lacing up the right one.
The room was a disaster, owing its current state of disrepair to his and Zara's last round of sex. One sheet was knotted around a bed pole on the headboard. The comforter and pillows were lying in a pile near the flagstone fireplace. One of the potted palm trees sat crookedly in its pot, having been tipped over and then hastily righted. Lawson smiled. It had been a day he wouldn't forget anytime soon. He could still feel the imprint of Zara's teeth on his left shoulder.
It wasn't like him to lose control, to become so careless, but he'd done just that earlier in the dance studio. He'd taken her right there against the mirror, where anyone, including Christian or one of his staff, could have walked in on them. When she'd looked up at him with those big blue eyes, happiness and desire burning in them, he'd been too far gone to stop himself. He'd wanted to bury himself deep inside her and make her even happier.
He was being completely unprofessional. While the majority of people who worked for the CIA were used to pushing the boundaries of protocol, Lawson wasn't. But this kind of craziness with Zara wasn't just a break from protocol, this was something else entirely. This was ... this was...
Hell, he didn't know what it was, but he did know he was having the most intense, best sex of his life.
Finishing with the first boot, Lawson went to work tying the second. The smell of Zara and sex wafted around him as the sound of the shower running in the adjacent bathroom filled his ears. He thought about her standing under the running water and damn if heat didn't shoot straight to his groin like a lightning bolt. He shook his head and slammed his booted foot back down on the floor. It had to stop. After the first lovemaking session, and in between lunch and a long nap with Zara tucked securely in his arms, he'd jumped her beautiful bones again. His obsession was going to kill him if he didn't get control. And soon.
Because, even though he didn't want to admit it, she wasn't just a beautiful woman he loved having sex with. She wasn't his fuck buddy any more than she was his girlfriend. She meant something to him, but she was his partner. His
work
partner. Their relationship was only going to get more complicated.
When the mission was over and they returned to America, the alternate reality they were caught in now—working a dangerous mission in a foreign country—would be over. They'd both go back to real life. Zara would stop looking at him with her heart in her eyes. She'd stop wanting him the way he wanted her. She'd return to her life and he'd return to his. Even if she stayed at Langley, he'd probably be lucky to spend more than a minute or two talking to her in the halls. She wasn't the kind of woman who would settle for a man like him.
He heard the shower shut off in the bathroom and pushed off the bed.
For now he had a job to do. Detaching his emotions, he grabbed his leather jacket, slipped it on and began loading the inside pockets with extra clips of ammo, a Swiss Army knife, a pair of high-powered night vision goggles and a small Maglite flashlight.
His clothes and personal effects were already packed. He stuck his digitally encrypted cell phone on his belt buckle and packed his notebook computer and satellite hookup in his travel bag.
Zara emerged from the bathroom dressed in a black sweater and black jeans. As she came to stand next to him, she raked her fingers through her towel-dried hair. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were shiny with lip gloss, but Lawson noticed her stiff, clipped movements as she kept her distance from him and grabbed the doorknob. “How soon do we leave?"
"Ten minutes."
"Did you talk to Flynn?"
"I left him a message."
Her gaze lingered on him a moment, her eyes hard and edgy. “You understand you're risking your career tonight."
He grinned at her, trying to lessen her concern. “You'll put in a good word for me with Flynn before he stands me up in front of the firing squad, right?"
His attempt at humor didn't work. She reached into her jean pocket, pulled out a key. “You'll need this."
He snagged the motorcycle key out of the air, held it up, looked it over, feeling the sting of betrayal. “You were going to take off without me?"
Her tone was unapologetic. “I considered it. Decided I should play by the rules this once."
"Flynn would be proud of you."
She shrugged as if she no longer cared about Flynn's approval. “I need to say goodbye to Christian. I'll meet you at the barn."
Twenty minutes later, Zara passed by the statue of Poseidon and shivered. The days were pleasantly warm, but the nights in Switzerland were cold. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees since sunset. She'd already had a taste of the night temps on the Ducati when she and Lawson had ridden through the French and Swiss countrysides. She'd literally frozen her naked butt off, but at least then, she'd had her own personal furnace to snuggle up to.
There would be no snuggling tonight. Her partner always became all business the minute he strapped on his gun. That Lawson was different from the one who stole her breath with the simplest of looks and worshipped every curve and indention of her body like a sculptor worshipped his model.
Glancing back at the house, she followed the footpath through the orchard and paused near a statue of Artemis, the Grecian warrior Goddess. She was all professionalism now too, even though her nerves were getting to her right along with the cold. She was about to do surveillance on Dmitri. She was about to sever the carotid artery of her career and possibly Lawson's.
Looking up at the Goddess's powerful face, she said a prayer.
Watch over me, Artemis.
Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she was surprised to see Annette walking toward her from the house, instead of Lawson. As she cleared a line of apple trees, Annette lifted a hand in greeting and another chill spread through Zara's body.
"What are you doing here?” Zara asked. “I thought you went back to Paris with Flynn. He doesn't trust me to come in on my own, does he?"
Annette stopped, her gaze sliding over the garden before circling the back edge of the orchard that was lined with evergreens. Her attention landed on Zara, but darted off again to the side. “I need to take you out of here for your own safety."
Zara's nerves crackled under her skin. “I'll take my chances with the French police and FI. I can't—won't—quit this mission yet."
The FBI agent glanced over her shoulder at Christian's villa. Soft light from the upper-story stained-glass windows filtered into the courtyard. “Dmitri knows you're here. He's coming for you. Tonight."
Her heart jumped. She instinctively scanned the area all around the gardens, taking a step toward the house. “How did he find out I was here?"
Annette ignored her question and gripped her arm, steering her away from the villa. “Where's Lawson?"
"Answer my question, Annette.” Zara tried to remove her arm from her friend's grip, but couldn't without hurting her. “What's going on?"
Annette continued to propel her across the grass away from Artemis and the orchard. “Where's Lawson? We don't have much time."
Zara jerked her arm out of Annette's hand. Something was off. Very off. “Did you tell Christian about Dmitri when he let you in? He could be in danger."
Annette took a step forward. “You're the only one in danger right now."
The measured tone of her voice triggered an uncomfortable feeling in Zara's stomach. A feeling that had nothing to do with Alexandrov Dmitri. “You're not telling me everything. Do you know how Dmitri found out I was here?"
Annette sighed audibly and Zara saw her hand move to the gun on her hip. She slipped it out of its holster and pointed it at Zara. “Because I told him, and now I have to deliver you to him and save my sister. So do us both a favor. Tell me where Lawson is."
The sight of the gun made adrenaline rush to her nerve endings. “I don't know,” she lied.
Annette raised the gun so it pointed at her face. “Perhaps you'd like to reconsider that answer."
Delude, deceive, distract.
“What happened to your sister?"
"Not your concern. I'm taking you and Lawson to Dmitri. I'm sorry, but I don't have any choice."
Zara nodded as though she understood, and then she kicked her right foot up and caught Annette's gun with the heel of her sneaker.
The partially cloudy night didn't offer much light and the dark woods loomed to her right. Zara smelled the bed of slippery pine needles under her feet as she ran along the tree line. She couldn't see more than ten feet ahead of her, but even if the moon had been fully out, she knew she wouldn't be able to see Annette because of the grade of the hill. She ran on.
She should have stayed and fought her, but for all Zara's training, her stubborn psyche had resisted. Her fight-or-flight instinct had ordered flight.
She's my friend. How could I fight her?
Catching her breath, she slid her hand across the rough bark of a pine tree and slipped farther into the shadows, trying to keep her bearings as she moved in the direction of the barn. Trying to get her bearings as Annette's betrayal sank into her bones.
She froze at a noise in the woods behind her. Her hand shook as she reached under her jacket and pulled the Glock from her waistband. She held her breath, gauging where the noise had come from and listening for it to repeat itself. Her eyes fought to bring the nearby trees into focus, but in the dark, everything blended together.
A minute passed and she heard nothing outside of the breeze rustling the tops of the pines towering above her head. Slowly inching forward, she forced herself to breathe. A deer or some other nocturnal creature deep in the woods had probably stepped on a twig and snapped it.
Only a rookie would believe that.
Or a stupid, pampered rich girl.
Moving forward again, her foot fell on a hard, slippery surface and slid out from under her. She broke the fall with her hands, dropping the Glock on the ground. Swearing under her breath, she patted the bed of pine needles searching for the cool metal.
Her hand stilled as she heard the noise again, closer this time. She lifted her head, looking over her shoulder and sensed something moving toward her. The way it moved told her it was not a four-legged creature, but it was too sizable to be Annette. Dmitri? Too bulky for him.
She jumped to her feet and started to run, dodging trees as best she could. The back of the barn had to be close.
As she cleared the tree line, Zara saw the monstrous two-story horse barn ahead of her. She ran hard, jumping over a water trough and praying the moonlight wouldn't be strong enough to give Annette or her hulk of a friend a clear shot.
Before she'd gotten more than ten feet, she heard a faint whoosh and felt a sharp sting in her right butt cheek. Opening her mouth to scream for Lawson, she took two more running steps before the ground rushed up to meet her.