imagine this time with Chas as more than just the sex she’d come to seek—could this be something real? Or was this simply another casual affair that would bring a moment’s peace and nothing else? If she had her head on straight she’d view this as only a job perk, a bonus in the midst of working a case. As she fell asleep, she ignored the voice inside that longed for something more.
‡‡‡
SHE WOKE A BIT later to the ringing of her cell phone. Chas was nowhere in sight. She let the call go to voice mail, then noticed the rose on the pillow next to her and the note beneath it:
Legs. I had a beautiful time. Sorry to run. Business calls. Thank you for such an enchanting evening. Hope we get to do it again. Make yourself comfortable, and stay as long as you like. Tex
“Dammit,” she said as her cell starting ringing again. “Lost him.” Turning to the phone, she saw it was the Boss calling, and she picked it up on the third ring.
“Bossman?”
“Well, it’s about goddamn time. Have a nice night?”
“It was okay. But now he’s gone for the day, I think.”
“Legs, it’s more than that,” said the Boss, with frustration in his voice. “Looks like he’s on his way out of the country. We put Jackson outside his brownstone in the middle of the night just to have backup in case you called an SOS. Jackson then followed him to JFK and found him getting on a plane to Paris.”
“Paris?” she exclaimed, sitting straight up in bed. “What the—”
“No time for niceties, babe. This is our one chance to catch him. And you’re our only hope.”
She caught her breath. “Meaning?”
“Put on some clothes, Legs. You’re on the next flight to Paris.”
‡‡‡
CHAS STEPPED INTO his regular suite at the Hotel George V in Paris. Personally, he preferred something less ostentatious, but he always stayed at five-star hotels to impress his clients, and these gentlemen were no exception. If one stooped to call them gentlemen, that is. He bristled at the thought of meeting with Pierre and his cronies. The only reason he associated with them was that he knew with each step he came closer to figuring out the story behind his father’s murder, the cover-up that followed it, and the people involved. He knew Pierre was integral to the plot, but he didn’t quite know how. All he knew was that he was getting closer. He felt it in his gut.
He also knew Susannah would track him. He had left a trail of breadcrumbs as big as sofa cushions for her colleagues and knew she’d be onto him. That’s how he wanted it. He was enjoying this game very much, but there was something more. He was enjoying her , every single aspect of her. Her wit, her strength, her heart, her body. And there was something else: her soul. He was enjoying how natural it was to connect with her on this level. He wanted to impress her, and dammit , he wanted to woo her like the lady she was on the inside and on the outside. He wanted to taste her on top of satin sheets while looking out at the Eiffel Tower. He wanted to share fine champagne while he licked French chocolate off her sumptuous nipples. He wanted her lips on every part of him as he ran his fingers through her silken red hair, fanning it all over his . . .
Whoa. What was happening to him? Time to cool down. He had a job to do, and it required all his concentration, effort, and grit to do it. Chas put his suitcase down and picked up the manila folder that was waiting for him on the coffee table. As usual, it was addressed in the same beautiful cursive he’d come to find revolting.
Dear Mr. Palmer,
We are so glad you have joined us for another tour. All the information you’ll need is in this file. We’ll see you at the usual spot for drinks and conversation. Once you meet everyone, we’ll get right down to business. Happy to have you with us. And remember, leave your weapons at the door.
Warmly,
G
Chas gritted his teeth. He didn’t know who “G” was, and he didn’t
‡‡‡
SHE WOKE A BIT later to the ringing of her cell phone. Chas was nowhere in sight. She let the call go to voice mail, then noticed the rose on the pillow next to her and the note beneath it:
Legs. I had a beautiful time. Sorry to run. Business calls. Thank you for such an enchanting evening. Hope we get to do it again. Make yourself comfortable, and stay as long as you like. Tex
“Dammit,” she said as her cell starting ringing again. “Lost him.” Turning to the phone, she saw it was the Boss calling, and she picked it up on the third ring.
“Bossman?”
“Well, it’s about goddamn time. Have a nice night?”
“It was okay. But now he’s gone for the day, I think.”
“Legs, it’s more than that,” said the Boss, with frustration in his voice. “Looks like he’s on his way out of the country. We put Jackson outside his brownstone in the middle of the night just to have backup in case you called an SOS. Jackson then followed him to JFK and found him getting on a plane to Paris.”
“Paris?” she exclaimed, sitting straight up in bed. “What the—”
“No time for niceties, babe. This is our one chance to catch him. And you’re our only hope.”
She caught her breath. “Meaning?”
“Put on some clothes, Legs. You’re on the next flight to Paris.”
‡‡‡
CHAS STEPPED INTO his regular suite at the Hotel George V in Paris. Personally, he preferred something less ostentatious, but he always stayed at five-star hotels to impress his clients, and these gentlemen were no exception. If one stooped to call them gentlemen, that is. He bristled at the thought of meeting with Pierre and his cronies. The only reason he associated with them was that he knew with each step he came closer to figuring out the story behind his father’s murder, the cover-up that followed it, and the people involved. He knew Pierre was integral to the plot, but he didn’t quite know how. All he knew was that he was getting closer. He felt it in his gut.
He also knew Susannah would track him. He had left a trail of breadcrumbs as big as sofa cushions for her colleagues and knew she’d be onto him. That’s how he wanted it. He was enjoying this game very much, but there was something more. He was enjoying her , every single aspect of her. Her wit, her strength, her heart, her body. And there was something else: her soul. He was enjoying how natural it was to connect with her on this level. He wanted to impress her, and dammit , he wanted to woo her like the lady she was on the inside and on the outside. He wanted to taste her on top of satin sheets while looking out at the Eiffel Tower. He wanted to share fine champagne while he licked French chocolate off her sumptuous nipples. He wanted her lips on every part of him as he ran his fingers through her silken red hair, fanning it all over his . . .
Whoa. What was happening to him? Time to cool down. He had a job to do, and it required all his concentration, effort, and grit to do it. Chas put his suitcase down and picked up the manila folder that was waiting for him on the coffee table. As usual, it was addressed in the same beautiful cursive he’d come to find revolting.
Dear Mr. Palmer,
We are so glad you have joined us for another tour. All the information you’ll need is in this file. We’ll see you at the usual spot for drinks and conversation. Once you meet everyone, we’ll get right down to business. Happy to have you with us. And remember, leave your weapons at the door.
Warmly,
G
Chas gritted his teeth. He didn’t know who “G” was, and he didn’t
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