slightly annoyed brown eyes. “I already told you, it’s being handled.”
It was difficult to hide his frustration. “He should have been eliminated the moment we uncovered his true identity. That was months ago, Walther—” When his employer’s eyes flashed, Nik quickly corrected himself. “Maurice.”
“These matters can’t be rushed,” Dietrich answered. “We’ve taken great pains to secure our new position. If this leads back to me, it will destroy everything we’ve worked so hard for.”
Nik knew the other man was right, but it was hard to see reason when his thirst for vengeance still burned strong. Seventeen years of hatred and bitterness had left him weary, but now that weariness had transformed into eagerness. James Hathaway—no, James
Morgan
—was finally within his reach. All Nik had to do was reach out and grab him. Eliminate his enemy once and for all.
“If she finds out where he is, she’ll want to see him,” Nik said, a lump of anger rising in his throat.
“She won’t find out. How could she? She doesn’t even know his real name.” Dietrich took another sip of his drink. “You’re worrying yourself for nothing, Nikolaus. Girard did careful research before choosing the assassin—this woman will get the job done immediately.”
He bristled, but forced himself to bite his tongue. It was pointless to rehash his feelings on the subject. From the start, he’d maintained the argument that killing James Morgan was
his
right, but Dietrich had strictly forbidden it. Nik was an integral cog in the running of Dietrich’s empire, and his boss insisted that Nik needed to concentrate on taking care of business rather than chasing old ghosts.
Nik had agreed to stand down out of loyalty and respect for the man, but if it were up to him,
he’d
be the one putting that bullet in James Morgan’s head.
“She’d better get it done,” he muttered. “Morgan can’t go unpunished for what he did, Wal—Maurice.”
Dietrich polished off his whiskey and slammed the glass on the walnut bar counter. “He won’t, my boy. He won’t. Now...” An indulgent smile crossed the older man’s face. “Tell Bertrand to bring the car around. I’d like to go and visit my daughter.”
Chapter 5
“Why are you still here?”
Morgan tensed at the sound of Noelle’s voice, but didn’t glance up from his laptop screen. Her question didn’t surprise him—it was one he’d asked himself countless times today, while he’d been holed up in the living room of Noelle’s elegant town house. There was nothing stopping him from checking into a hotel, yet instead of doing that, he’d parked his ass on her white leather couch and had been digging up intel on Gilles Girard ever since they’d arrived in Paris.
Slowly, he lifted his head, but no words left his mouth when he laid eyes on her.
She was dressed for seduction.
From head to fuckin’ toe.
A skimpy red dress clung to her curvy body, hugging her full, braless breasts and barely covering her firm thighs. Silver stilettos added four inches to her petite frame, and her blond hair was artfully twisted atop her head, pulled back to emphasize her high cheekbones and timeless features. She rarely wore her hair up, and it annoyed him to realize that he preferred it down.
Goddamn it. He shouldn’t have a fucking preference.
Swallowing his irritation, he pasted on an indifferent look. “Aw, baby, is that all for me?”
“Absolutely not,” she said cheerfully.
“Hot date?”
She ignored him. “I want you out of my house. Your gear is already in the car, and my driver will drop you off at a hotel on our way.”
“On your way where?”
Again he didn’t get a response, just the sharp clap of her hands. “Get off your ass. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Smirking, Morgan leaned back against the couch cushions and got comfortable.
“I mean it, Jim. It’s time for you to go.”
When he still didn’t budge, she reached for the hem of her dress and
It was difficult to hide his frustration. “He should have been eliminated the moment we uncovered his true identity. That was months ago, Walther—” When his employer’s eyes flashed, Nik quickly corrected himself. “Maurice.”
“These matters can’t be rushed,” Dietrich answered. “We’ve taken great pains to secure our new position. If this leads back to me, it will destroy everything we’ve worked so hard for.”
Nik knew the other man was right, but it was hard to see reason when his thirst for vengeance still burned strong. Seventeen years of hatred and bitterness had left him weary, but now that weariness had transformed into eagerness. James Hathaway—no, James
Morgan
—was finally within his reach. All Nik had to do was reach out and grab him. Eliminate his enemy once and for all.
“If she finds out where he is, she’ll want to see him,” Nik said, a lump of anger rising in his throat.
“She won’t find out. How could she? She doesn’t even know his real name.” Dietrich took another sip of his drink. “You’re worrying yourself for nothing, Nikolaus. Girard did careful research before choosing the assassin—this woman will get the job done immediately.”
He bristled, but forced himself to bite his tongue. It was pointless to rehash his feelings on the subject. From the start, he’d maintained the argument that killing James Morgan was
his
right, but Dietrich had strictly forbidden it. Nik was an integral cog in the running of Dietrich’s empire, and his boss insisted that Nik needed to concentrate on taking care of business rather than chasing old ghosts.
Nik had agreed to stand down out of loyalty and respect for the man, but if it were up to him,
he’d
be the one putting that bullet in James Morgan’s head.
“She’d better get it done,” he muttered. “Morgan can’t go unpunished for what he did, Wal—Maurice.”
Dietrich polished off his whiskey and slammed the glass on the walnut bar counter. “He won’t, my boy. He won’t. Now...” An indulgent smile crossed the older man’s face. “Tell Bertrand to bring the car around. I’d like to go and visit my daughter.”
Chapter 5
“Why are you still here?”
Morgan tensed at the sound of Noelle’s voice, but didn’t glance up from his laptop screen. Her question didn’t surprise him—it was one he’d asked himself countless times today, while he’d been holed up in the living room of Noelle’s elegant town house. There was nothing stopping him from checking into a hotel, yet instead of doing that, he’d parked his ass on her white leather couch and had been digging up intel on Gilles Girard ever since they’d arrived in Paris.
Slowly, he lifted his head, but no words left his mouth when he laid eyes on her.
She was dressed for seduction.
From head to fuckin’ toe.
A skimpy red dress clung to her curvy body, hugging her full, braless breasts and barely covering her firm thighs. Silver stilettos added four inches to her petite frame, and her blond hair was artfully twisted atop her head, pulled back to emphasize her high cheekbones and timeless features. She rarely wore her hair up, and it annoyed him to realize that he preferred it down.
Goddamn it. He shouldn’t have a fucking preference.
Swallowing his irritation, he pasted on an indifferent look. “Aw, baby, is that all for me?”
“Absolutely not,” she said cheerfully.
“Hot date?”
She ignored him. “I want you out of my house. Your gear is already in the car, and my driver will drop you off at a hotel on our way.”
“On your way where?”
Again he didn’t get a response, just the sharp clap of her hands. “Get off your ass. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
Smirking, Morgan leaned back against the couch cushions and got comfortable.
“I mean it, Jim. It’s time for you to go.”
When he still didn’t budge, she reached for the hem of her dress and
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