Untrue Colors (Entangled Select Suspense) (14 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Simon hated the idea of French cafés. A quiet English pub had more privacy and better beer. He tucked himself into the farthest corner of the place and ordered a Coke. Only two other tables had patrons at them, located on the other side of the room. Simon kept his distance. He didn’t trust anyone, the waitstaff included. He caught up on emails for almost an hour, then the energy around him shifted. She made it. Nicola strutted between the empty tables and chairs wearing a tight black skirt cut to reveal the maximum amount of leg and a loose white blouse without a bra. She radiated sexual satisfaction. Someone was getting some, and it wasn’t him.

Glances of lust followed her from a table of men by the door. They’d better put their eyes back in their heads and focus on their own pathetic lives, because Simon required privacy for this conversation. The information Henry had given him about Gabe’s fake passport linked her to Luc Perrault. That placed his brother in the middle of something deadly.

“Darling, nice to see you.” Nicola kissed him on each cheek when he stood to greet her. Her face held zero emotion.

“Sit.” He pulled out the chair next to him. “How’s your holiday?”

They sat close enough to carry on a conversation safely. After Nicola ordered a café au lait, she leaned back in her seat away from Simon. They couldn’t jeopardize her cover by appearing to like each other. Her new French lover had a jealous streak the width of the Pacific Ocean.

She rolled her eyes and appeared bored. “Luc told me that Danielle, his sister, is traveling around Thailand and won’t be returning for several months. Seems odd when her passport is traveling to the States this afternoon.”

Simon took a sip of his drink, slammed the glass down, and then clenched his fists. “I’ve contacted Interpol. They’ll be monitoring Gabe’s movements with Danielle’s passport in and out of the US. I’ll have them contact the Thai government to track down Ms. Perrault and her companion Travis Poole, some Yank from San Francisco.”

“You’re on the ball, as usual. As to the other name, Luc never mentioned an Alex, and I’m hesitant to ask. I did overhear him speaking about an ex-girlfriend who disappeared about two months ago. She’s some sort of linguistic genius, knows around twenty languages.” She shook her head and stood.

Simon grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. His eyes flashed to emulate the anger of an ex-suitor. “This girlfriend could be Gabe. We need more information. If he’s the one she’s running from, and he finds her, she doesn’t stand much of a chance. Luc doesn’t mess around when he wants someone dead. Three of his associates have ended up in the morgue so far this year.”

“You’re not even positive she’s the girlfriend,” she purred in his ear.

“I’m not positive about anything with Gabe. Although she did mumble in French when she first appeared in Henry’s house, I’ve never seen her act as though she understood anyone speaking a foreign language. She does, however, have Luc’s sister’s passport. To be safe, we should keep them apart. Stay close to Luc for the time being. If you sense things going south, get the hell out of there.” He released her, and she stepped back.

“I know how to do my job. I’ll stick to him like glue once he returns.” She strode across the cafe.

Simon threw down a few euros and followed. “Returns?”

“He’ll be back in two days. Don’t worry.” She sauntered toward the door, but he caught her arm again.

When they stepped outside, Nicola pulled away. She had to appear as though he wanted her back, but she preferred staying with Luc. Simon braced himself. She’d always staged these scenes with more emotion than necessary.

“Go to hell.” She slapped his face hard. Pain shot through his jaw, and his eyes watered. She’d held nothing back, the pain in the ass. By the time he blinked away the stinging, she’d fled across the street.

“Already there.” He turned and walked in the opposite direction.

…

Alex didn’t feel safe in the United States until she and Henry were sitting in the rented red Mustang convertible and driving away from the airport. During the entire journey, she’d spoken fluent French and broken English. Aside from an uncomfortable double take by a Homeland Security agent, she breezed through airport security using Danielle’s identity. Sneaking into her home country while posing as a foreign national caused conflicted feelings. She hadn’t been home in eight years. If Luc wasn’t pursuing her, she’d consider winding her way up the East Coast to her home in Concord. A year ago, she would have returned a success in her field. Her father would have been proud. Not so much now. Now she was a fugitive with no job and no future.

Henry pulled up to the valet at the W hotel in the middle of Atlanta and handed over the luggage, except for a computer bag containing the cash to purchase the portrait. A tour bus load of people crowded around the sleek registration desk. Harried employees dressed in black tried to ease everyone’s nerves by offering free drinks in the bar. Alex took a coupon and kissed Henry on the cheek.

“I’ll hang out in the bar while you check us in.”

A moment’s hesitation told her he didn’t want her to leave. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He clasped her hand as though she’d run if he let her out of his sight.

“I’m thirsty. I’ll be right back. I made a promise to help you, and unless the dreaded zombie apocalypse occurs, I’ll be by your side until you have the painting back in your possession. I have a gut feeling we’ll be celebrating tomorrow night.”

He kissed her, and an honest-to-God warm fuzzy feeling filled her insides. She’d never been cherished, not by her parents, her friends, or Luc. With Henry, however, she could imagine someone wanting a happily ever after with her, even if the “ever after” lasted for only three weeks.

“I’ll meet you in a few minutes. Don’t get into trouble.”

“
Moi?
I’m the queen of coolheaded and rational decision making.”

He frowned. “I’ll try to speed things up.”

Alex found her way to the crowded bar. No one had turned down the free drink, especially the people on the bus tour. She located a table in a quiet corner and ordered a Diet Coke.

A manicured guy in a well-made business suit came up to her table. His grin made him appear like a politician scoping out a new personal assistant. A very personal assistant. “Hey, beautiful. Mind if I sit down?”

She shook her head. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

He frowned, and moved to another single woman sitting at the bar. Alex watched him in action. Within three minutes, he had his hand on the woman’s knee. And she wasn’t complaining. An older, heavier-set guy at the far end of the bar glanced over at Alex. He rose and stepped toward her. Great.

This was not the easy free drink she’d anticipated. She rose to leave before he could annoy her and noticed a badass stud in faded jeans and a brown leather jacket at the entrance. A scowling badass. There wasn’t an ounce of English anthropology professor in that guy. And as much as Alex adored the Earl of Ripon, she totally crushed on his alter ego.

He nodded his head toward the door, and Alex followed him out. How could she resist when he was acting all possessive and protective? It was a major turn-on. He led her out of the room and up the elevator. At the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her, her heart steadied from a heavy staccato rhythm to something pretty damn close to love.

Henry leaned against the wall of the elevator. The muscles in his shoulders lowered from pissed to more relaxed. “You were the center of attention.”

She couldn’t help but smile at her adorable champion. “I think they wanted to buy me a drink with their free drink coupon.”

“This hotel is the closest one to the gallery. Did you notice anyone who will be at the gallery tomorrow?” He lifted his eyebrows and waited for her answer.

“They don’t exactly announce their intentions to random strangers.”

His took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Exactly. And yet you placed yourself in a situation where someone might recognize you. Since I don’t know who’s after you, I have to assume everyone wants you.”

His worry now made sense.

When they closed the door of their hotel room, Henry turned toward her. “I don’t know whether you attract trouble or trouble attracts you. How long did I leave you alone? Five minutes?”

“Trouble tends to locate me wherever I am.” She snuggled into the smell of Henry and new leather. “Why would I look for trouble? I landed a bona fide earl, complete with a castle, and a reproduction of a portrait of a woman I’ve never heard of. Do you take me for a fool, Colin?”

“I’m Henry tonight. I wish I knew your real name. I don’t tend to sleep with women until after I have their names.”

“You can call me Gabe, Belinda, Danielle, or even Sunshine. I’ll even let you call me Baby for this night only.”

“Come closer, Baby.” His devilish smirk told her where they were headed for the next few hours. When she shimmied up next to him, he kissed her.

She pushed his jacket off and removed his shirt. A dramatic swing of her arm sent the clothes soaring to a nearby chair. A sexy, bare-chested Henry reached behind her and unzipped her orange dress. He peeled the dress from her shoulders and pulled it down her body to the floor. Alex stood before Henry in a hot-pink bra, matching thong, and uncomfortable strappy sandals.

“Nice.” He tugged her closer and removed the top half of her lingerie.

A knock on the door interrupted his hand’s journey across her bare stomach.

“Ignore it. They’ll go away,” Alex said, licking his lips. He tasted of the peppermint he’d had in the car. She pressed her lips into his until he kissed back with a carnal intensity that urged her into actions she’d never craved before.

Another knock. He retreated and left her panting and frustrated.

“Hold that thought.” He threw her his shirt to cover up. She slipped it on and scooted behind the door an instant before he opened it.

“A package for you, sir.”

“A package?”

“It says it’s from your brother, no name is given.”

Henry took the box from the bellhop and handed him a decent tip. Alex could hear the kid mumbling a thank-you as Henry shut the door behind him.

“A present from Simon?” she asked.

“Apparently.” He ripped off the tape and opened the package. Inside, a handgun, complete with a box of ammunition, rested between large pieces of Styrofoam.

He pulled out the gun, checked the chambers, and sighted it toward the window. Wearing the same smile as a little boy on Christmas morning, he tilted it back and forth, feeling the weight of it in his hand, and then opened the smaller box, took out several rounds, and loaded his new weapon. Guns and Henry didn’t seem a likely partnership, except for the shotguns displayed at the manor for killing innocent ducks and pheasants. Yet he handled his present as though he and handguns were old friends.

Something seemed strange about the entire package. “How did Simon ship a weapon and bullets from the UK to the US?”

“I assume he used a source in the States. Quite thoughtful.” He placed the gun in the bag with the money and unpacked his tuxedo for the auction.

She watched him move around the room. Those muscles should not be gracing the torso of a dorky anthropology professor, but she appreciated them all the same.

“Henry, what is that tattoo on your shoulder?” A two-inch high sword with two wavy lines behind it decorated his right shoulder. She didn’t recognize the symbols.

“From my days in the service.”

“The mess hall or the medic division?”

“Special Boat Service.” He continued unpacking and never looked toward her.

Her lack of knowledge about British military operations irked her. She hated not having information at her fingertips. “Boat maintenance?”

“Something like that.” He smirked, and Lord help her, she wanted to bite that smirk right off those amazing lips.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you? Give me access to your computer, just for a minute.”

Holding his shaving kit in his hand, he stopped unpacking and stared at her. “Sorry,
Baby
. I’ll let you use my laptop and tell you more about me when you spill a little more about yourself.” He lifted her wrist up. “What’s your coat of arms? An acorn?”

“No.” She pulled her wrist out of his hand. “From my recollection, the Chilton coat of arms has a single red chevron across it. No dragons or crossed swords for you?”

“Nice deflection. Are you a student of heraldry?”

“I’ve memorized a lot of family crests. It comes in handy when evaluating paintings, but I learned yours because it sits over the fireplace in the great hall at the castle.”

Henry placed his shaving kit in the bathroom. When he returned, he took hold of her wrist and kissed her tattoo. “And the acorn?”

She laughed. “An acorn is a baby oak. It’s not my family’s coat of arms, but should be. Instead, the family crest is green and white and isn’t much more interesting than yours.”

He kissed his way up her arm, stopping at her neck. “Does yours include a dragon?” he asked before returning to his seduction.

“No.” She tried not to moan, but he was nipping at the edge of her ear, and she could hardly speak.

“A skull and crossbones?” He blew his warm breath over the damp body parts as he finished nibbling them.

A shiver ran down her back. She curved her body into his arms. “Fun, but no.”

Henry yanked his shirt over her head. He tossed it onto the chair again.

“I’ll wait for you to disclose your secrets at your pace, but I’m growing impatient.” He stepped back, leaving her feeling very naked with only her thong covering a minimal amount of skin.

“Can I give you anything besides background information?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and those damn biceps flexed. “No. I have a Mustang convertible, a castle, and a gun. What more could a man want?”

“Come here and I’ll show you.” Alex dragged Henry by his belt loop toward the bed.

She undressed him, stopping with his zipper down and his jeans hanging off his hips.

“Are you going to finish?” he asked, choking out the words.