Promises (24 page)

“Who’s Henri?”

“He’s a painter.
 
I’ve known him a couple of years.
 
You don’t need to worry.
 
I introduced him to Jason last year before he went undercover.
 
He came along on one of my buying trips for a vacation.
 
He told me shortly before he disappeared he’d hidden the disk at Henri’s house during a return visit.”

Her words stirred his simmering anger.
 
Jase should never have involved her or this unsuspecting artist.

They rounded one of the many turns then stopped in front of a house with a perfect view of the sea.
 
The whitewash walls surrounding it provided some privacy from the road.
 
Very aesthetic.
 
He could see why a painter would choose to live here.

He followed her through the iron gate, passed an herb garden, and up to the front door.
 
She lifted the large brass knocker and clanked it loudly against the plate.
 
Seconds later, the door flew open and a man who looked like he could star in Italy’s latest skin flick as the lead stud stood in the doorway.

“
Chérie
!”
 
He snatched Bobbi up off her feet and laid kisses, too many kisses, on each side of her face.

“Henri, it’s so good to see you.”
 
She laughed, throwing her arms around his neck.

Travis cringed.
 
She hadn’t sounded that happy in days.
 
Maybe he needed to change his strategy.
 
Perhaps he should tell her how he felt before he lost her to someone else.

Her
friend
finally put her down, but continued to hold her hand.
 
The hand wearing his ring.
 

“
Entres
,
entres
,” the man said.

Travis followed, silently brooding, as Henri led them into a living room turned studio.
 
Evidence of the man’s trade surrounded them.

“Sit and tell me what you’ve been doing, mon couer, other than this fantastic change of color,” he said, motioning to her blonde hair.

She giggled softly as they sat on a small sofa while Henri sat on the coffee table in front of them still holding her hand.

Travis cleared his throat noisily.

“Oh.
 
Um, Henri Dumont, this is a friend of mine.
 
George Claymore.”

Good girl.
 
He couldn’t hide the pride in his eyes.
 
Bobbi was a fast learner.
 

She smiled back at him.
 

That was encouraging.
 
Pulling his gaze from hers, he offered his hand to Henri.
 
“Nice to meet you.”

“Any friend of Bobbi’s is welcome in my home.”
 
Her friend blinded Travis with a two thousand kilowatt smile.
 
It was enough to make him want to punch the guy’s lights out.
 
And he would have too, if he didn’t think Bobbi would hate him for it.
 

At what point on this crazy ride did I lose control
?
 

He looked back at the woman sitting beside him and knew the answer.
 
The moment I gazed into those beautiful, bright eyes.

“Tell me, what brings you to the Cote
d’Azur
?”

“Can’t a girl take a vacation?”
 
She put on a good show, but Travis could hear the nervousness in her voice.
 

How well did these two know each other?
 
Would this Henri character pick up on her anxiety?

“Of course,
mon
c
oeur
!
 
Tell me all that has happened since you were last here.
 
How is your
frère, Jason
?
 
I haven’t seen him in months.”

Travis waited.
 
How would she deal with the question?
 
Had she accepted the truth about Jase or was she still pretending he was alive?

“He’s fine.
 
Working too hard as usual.”
 
Although her voice quivered a bit, she held her smile.
 

Travis sighed quietly.
 
She was still grappling with the fact he was gone, and yet she covered for them by not bringing up Jase’s death.

“Bon.”
 
The Frenchman stood, pulling her up with him.
 
“Come.
 
I was about to prepare something to eat.
 
Why do we not go into the kitchen and talk there?”

Travis was left to follow again while the love of his life continued to hold hands with a man from her past.
 
His stomach clenched and twisted with every step.
 
Food did not sound like a good idea at the moment.
 

They reached the large kitchen, and he was surprised to find it built to serve a serious chef.
 

Henri brought Bobbi’s hands to his lips, lingered there entirely too long then released them and pulled out a barstool for her.
 

Travis suppressed a growl as he sat on the adjacent stool.
 

“Tell me what you have been doing.”
 
The annoying Frenchman moved around the counter and began preparing a large salad.

Still smiling, she told him about her carving projects, making it sound as if she had taken an extended leave from her regular job as an art dealer to pursue her craft.
 
Henri listened with rapt attention.
 
As their discussion wound down, she excused herself to go freshen up.

“Are you and Bobbi lovers?” Henri asked, the moment she was out of earshot.

Taken back by the question, Travis replied testily, “I don’t see where that’s any of your business.”

“Ah, but love is every Frenchman’s business, m
on
a
mi
.
 
But if you are not her lover, than perhaps you will not mind if I am.
 
She was involved with someone
—
Roger, I believe when last she was here.”

“The lady’s spoken for, pal.
 
Let’s just leave it at that.”
 
He didn’t bother hiding his irritation.

Henri smiled his super bright smile once again.
 
“You are in love with her.
 
All is clear, now.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“But does she love you?”

Travis’ jaw clenched and his stomach turned.
 
Did she love him?

Pushed too far, Travis rose up from his seat, fully prepared to rearrange pretty boy’s face when Bobbi came back into the kitchen.
 

He immediately pulled back his anger.
 
She really wouldn’t appreciate it if he tried to permanently remove the stupid smile from Henri’s mouth, but his question hovered in Travis’ brain like a dark cloud.

“Did I miss something?” she asked, looking back and forth between them.

“You are just in time,” the grinning Frenchman said, then asked them to move to a small table with a large picture window looking out at the sea.
 

While he and Bobbi talked about art, Travis silently ate what was surprisingly a superb salad.
 
His mind was temporarily lost to the conversation around him as he tried to identify the many herbs and flavors bathing his palate.

“Can we?” Bobbi asked.

He eyed Henri then looked back to her expectant face.
 
This was not the time or place to be thinking about food.
 
He could kick himself for getting lost in his favorite pastime.
 
If it wasn’t one distraction it was another.
 
He really needed to get out of law enforcement before he got someone killed.
 
Again.

“Can we what?” he asked, not having a clue to what they’d been talking about.

“Can we go to Henri’s opening?
 
His sponsor is showcasing his work in Monte Carlo tonight.”

“We still have things we need to do, Bobbi.”
 
They still needed the disk, and then there were Steele’s men.
 
Although they hadn’t seen any sign of them, there was always the chance they’d been followed.

“No.
 
I’m sure we finished up all our business this morning,” she said, her eyes overly bright.

She must have retrieved the disk during her trip to the bathroom.
 
Very resourceful, but now that they had what they came for, they should hightail it back to the States.
 

“Bobbi, I
—
” the pleading look on her face made the words stick in his throat.
 
She deserved to have some fun after all she’d been through.
 
He’d just have to make sure to keep her safe.
 
“Sure.
 
Why not?”

“Thank you,” she said softly.
 

He wanted to kiss her right then, but decided she might not react the way he hoped, which would be a point for Henri.

“Bon.
 
It is a black tie affair, mon coeur
,
” Henri said.
 
“I look forward to seeing you in something
très
chic.”

The intriguing image of Bobbi in a formal gown, floated into his thoughts.
 
He could hardly wait.

They resumed their discussion about some of the local artisans Bobbi knew, leaving Travis to search the undercurrents between the two friends.
 
Thankfully he found nothing to lead him to believe she was interested in Henri, but the Frenchman was smooth and oozed charm.
 
He was everything Travis wasn’t.
 
Cultured, very in-the-know regarding her career, and not a FBI agent.
 

His stomach lurched.

“Thank you for lunch, Henri, but I’m afraid we have to go.
 
We have some serious shopping to do.”
 
She laid down her fork and started to rise.

“You are very welcome.”
 
Henri saw them to the door and rattled off a list of stores in Nice that would have what they needed to attend his opening.
 

Once they started back up the path to Eze, Travis brought up the reason for their visit.
 
“Did you have any problems retrieving the disk?”

“No.”

“Care to let me see it?”
 
He wanted it in his possession, as far away from her as possible.

She stopped and stared at him a moment then pulled the computer disk from the hip-pack she’d bought at the Paris airpot and placed it into his hand.
 
He calmly slipped it inside the camera bag.
 
It was hard to believe the case was almost closed.

She started back up the hill with a determined stride.
 
He trotted to catch up and took her hand.

“The game is over.
 
You don’t have to pretend anymore,” she said.

Who said I was pretending
?
 

The words almost slipped out.
 
They weren’t out of danger yet, and he was determined to start their relationship fresh.
 
He decided to remain silent, as though he hadn’t heard her.
 
After all, she hadn’t pulled her hand away.
 
She seemed content to keep her fingers interlaced with his, which could be a very good sign.
 

More than an hour later, he stood and waited while she chatted with a saleswoman in French.
 
His fingers were growing numb beneath the hanger holding his new tuxedo.
 
A tux he didn’t need.
 
A tux that cost him a mint, but Bobbi seemed happier and more excited than he had seen her in days.

He shifted the hanger to his other shoulder.
 
Attending Henri’s opening was a bad idea.
 
He could feel it in his gut.
 
Or was it really because of the annoying artist?
 

No matter how hard he tried to sort out his thoughts, he constantly got his instincts and his feelings confused.
 
If anything happened to Bobbi, he’d die inside.
 
She was his other half.
 
The best half.

He scanned the store again for anything unusual.
 

Nothing.
 
Maybe he was just uptight about having what Steele wanted, but he’d still rather get out of there, out of the open and back to their room.
 
He’d given up on trying to understand any of what Bobbi and the saleswoman were saying, but he did love listening to her voice and the way her lips formed certain words.
 
She looked as though she were begging to be kissed.
 
It wasn’t any wonder French was said to be the language of love.

She made a motion with her hands describing the sort of dress she was looking for, succeeding in driving him slightly crazy.
 
Her hands continued to draw his eyes to each crest and curve of her body, something he’d been trying to put out of his mind, if for only a little while.
 
Until they were safe.
 

The saleslady disappeared behind a curtain leaving them alone for a moment.

“How long is this going to take?” he asked.

“Don’t be such a spoil sport.
 
You got what you came for.”

“And them some,” he grumbled, shifting his tuxedo to the other shoulder.

“Oh, be quiet.
 
You’re ruining the ultimate shopping experience.
 
We are on the French Riviera, for pity sakes.”
 
She smiled brightly.

God, he loved that smile, but wasn’t too sure if he was the one who’d caused it.
 
Was it possible she was excited about seeing Henri again?
 
Her mood had changed the minute they’d stepped inside his house.
 
Had his lovesick brain managed to convince him she felt nothing but friendship for Henri?
 
Was the truth really staring him in the face?

The saleswoman poked her head out from between the curtains and motioned for Bobbi to follow her.

“Sit tight.
 
I’ll be right back.”
 
She gave him an affectionate pat on the arm.

Maybe he was the one who was just a good friend.
 
He forced his thoughts back to their safety as she slipped behind the curtain.
 
He didn’t like her being out of sight, but he couldn’t very well follow her into the ladies dressing room.

Travis winced.
 

He definitely shouldn’t have thought about that.
 
He would be undressing her in his mind for the rest of the day.
 
Hell, the rest of his life.

Several minutes later the saleswoman came out with a small stack of gowns, and then disappeared behind the curtain again with a new batch.
 
Any one of which would look fantastic on Bobbi’s sweet little body.

With a pathetic groan, he sank down into a chair and laid his tuxedo across his lap.
 
The heat was building steadily below his belt and his unnecessary purchase played a vital role in concealing his discomfort.
 

As the minutes stretched on and on, thoughts of holding her, of loving her, pounded against his brain until he couldn’t bear it any longer.
 
Memories of their one night together tormented him.
 
Would it be their only night together?
 
The thought chilled him, putting an end to his need to hold his suit in his lap.
 

What had he been thinking?
 
He couldn’t risk losing her to Henri or to anyone else.
 
Waiting to start off fresh without Steele on their backs was a joke.
 
Every reason, every excuse not to tell her how he felt was as lame as the one before.
 
For being a top-notch agent he certainly behaved like a top-notch idiot.
 

Tonight.
 
Tonight I tell her
.

She emerged from the dressing room, her new gown wrapped in opaque plastic, cradled gently in her arms.
 

He stood and slung his tux over his shoulder as a great weight lifted from his heart.
 
She was still safe, and he had made a monumental decision.
 

“All done,” she announced.

He smiled down at her shining face.
 
“You mean I don’t even get to see you model it after waiting out here forever?”

She giggled.
 
“You’ll see it soon enough, and so will everyone else.”
 
She waggled her delicate eyebrows.

Definitely tonight
.

Bobbi felt a thousand times better now that they had the disk.
 
The nightmare she found herself in was finally coming to an end.
 
The bad guys would go to jail and hopefully, once they got home, Jason would show himself and prove to Travis she was right.
 
He was alive.
 
He had to be.
 

Fearing she was wrong threatened to ruin her light mood, but she refused to give in to it.
 
Too many good things had happened during the last few hours.
 
Seeing Henri again was one of them.
 
Talking with him about art and the latest goings on made her feel normal again.
 
But then her life hadn’t exactly been boring since the day she found a certain tall, dark, wet male lying on her cabin floor.
   

A grin teased the corner of her mouth as she recalled their meeting with Henri.
 
She thoroughly enjoyed the slight shade of green on Travis’ face when she introduced them.
 
Little did he know that her old friend doted over all women that way.
 
He was a rake and a rogue who adored the opposite sex, but she and Henri didn’t have that kind of history together.
 
He wasn’t her type.

Bobbi smiled.

There was no such thing as a type of man for her.
 
There was only one man.
 
A man she was beginning to think felt a lot more for her than he cared to admit.
 

She caressed the ring on her finger, tracing the dainty swirls.
 
Even if all they would ever have were these few days together, she knew Travis saw her as more than his best friend’s sister or his responsibility.
 
It was their situation, their totally different lifestyles, and his job that made a relationship between them impossible.
 
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy every minute they had left together.

“Bobbi, if you aren’t out of there within the next ten seconds, I’m ditching this monkey suit and sending out for dinner,” he said through the bathroom door.

A grin teased the corners of her lips.
 
She was more than a little tempted to stay in tonight too, but she hadn’t tried on a zillion dresses in search of the perfect one only to let it sit on a hanger.

“Almost ready,” she called.
 

Turning, she examined herself in the mirror one last time.
 
The silvery blue sparkles of her new gown fit her body like a sheath.
 
At least the parts it covered.
 
The choker collar, bare shoulders, super high split up the side, and the deep cut back made her look sexy and dangerous.
 

“But will he think your sexy?” she asked her reflection.
 
And was it wise to want him to?

The little flame of hope ignited by his jealousy and the lovely ring he gave her was warm and enticing, but should she latch on to it with all her might?
 
Should she put everything she had into creating a blazing bonfire?
 
He was still a FBI agent.
 
Their lives couldn’t be more different.
 
And there was Sylvia.

That little flame sputtered.

“No, I can’t let it go out yet.”
 
She decided to table her anxieties before she chewed off all of her lipstick.
 

After a final twist at a stray curl, she took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom.