Chapter Seven

He was angry; that much was evident. In fact, Niko Reynard, his bottom lip split and his cheek bruised and swollen, fairly pulsated with irritation. Alyson couldn’t believe the way he spoke to her. What happened tonight was not her fault.

She was minding her own business, looking at books and deciding what to buy. Then two men came into the little book-lined alcove. Because they were well dressed, she wasn’t alarmed. A tremor shivered its way through her as she relived the shock of their confrontation and the menacing way in which they grabbed her. She was learning terrorists came in all sizes, shapes and manner of dress.

“Your gent’s quite pissed, ain’t he?” Eddie, the clerk from the bookstore, bumped his shoulder against Alyson’s.

“You noticed?” She bit out a harsh laugh. “By the way, he’s not my gent. He’s my protector. Nothing more.

Eddie put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulders. “Oh, girlfriend, if he looked at me the way he just looked at you—hot and smoldering with anger and passion—I’d be in satin-pink-thonged heaven.”

She looked at him for a beat. “You should meet my ex-husband.”

“A gay bloke, was he? Oh, sweet pea, don’t tell me you were his ‘beard.’ That’s just so cruel. Better to come out of the closet than to use someone like that.” He squeezed her shoulders again.

“Chaz didn’t have the balls to be honest about his sexuality. He never gave a second thought to using me to hide behind.”

“Bugger hurt you bad, didn’t he?” Darkness and shadows created by the shop and restaurant lights played an illuminating dance on the small courtyard. Blinking lights from the ambulance added additional gyrating shimmers as dusk gentled into night. Even so she could see the kindness in his eyes.

Alyson exhaled a long sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.” She reached out and flicked his dangling cross earring. “I like you, Eddie from Australia. I wish we had the time to become friends.”

He patted her shoulder. “Oh, sweet pea, we are friends. With some people, it’s an instant connection, you know?”

Her gaze swept over Niko’s straight back and broad shoulders. One of the sleeves of his suit coat was ripped and he was dusty from rolling around on the cobblestones. There was a definite connection to Niko, too, and she’d yet to define it in that orderly way she preferred. “Yes, my friend. I know.”

Odd she was emotionally connecting quickly, first with Niko and now Eddie. She usually moved with caution when making new friends. Part of her reserved nature, she supposed. Yet, here in Paris, she felt unencumbered by past habits. She was changing; Paris was changing her. Frankly, she was unnerved by them.

Earlier, inside Shakespeare and Company, for the first time, she used moves she learned in karate class. Even as she executed the kicks, the action seemed surreal, dreamlike.

On the other hand, Niko was obviously accustomed to violence the way he punched and shot with cold precision. What kind of man was he, really?

Niko was domineering, yet caring. Possessing self-assurance in that arrogant French way, he still displayed kindness by encouraging her about her art. That one act endeared him to her. No one had ever discovered or shown immediate respect for her secret desires until this man. Even with all the terrors this day had thrown at her, she felt safe in his presence.

Ambulance attendants wheeled the gurney past them bearing the man with the injured eye. He turned his bandaged head toward Alyson and outstretched his hand and pointed his finger. The hate in his eyes speared her, the force of it almost causing her to back up.

Niko turned and leaned over the injured man. Suddenly a knife was in her protector’s hand and brandished in front of the man’s mouth. The man nodded. Niko snapped the knife shut, slipping it back into his pocket.

“Oh, a switchblade! Girlfriend, that just blows the air up my skirts. I do love a dangerous bloke.” Eddie bumped his shoulder against hers again. “He’s all passion and edgy as hell with it. I see how you look at him. Honey, you better jump his finely muscled frame. He’s as fit as a mallee bull.”

“Nonsense. We’ve only met today. I’ll be leaving for home soon.”

“Darlin’ if you leave, it’ll be the biggest mistake you ever made.” Eddie leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “That’s destiny standing right there. Your destiny. Now, I better get back inside and tend to the store. Come see me again. Promise?”

“I’ll try. My life is so chaotic right now. I have no clue what’s going to happen from one minute to the next.”

Eddie ran a finger down her cheek. “Yes, but don’t you feel alive with it? Pulsate with the energy of the unknown? Alive, like a daisy blowin’ in the wind?”

She had to admit he was right. “Yes.” Eddie turned to step back into Shakespeare and Company. She turned and found herself eyeball to eyeball with Niko and his fury.

“You want to tell me why you walked out of my sight? Didn’t I tell you back at the hotel you needed to be with me at all times to be safe?” He grabbed her arms and hauled her against him, fierceness in his dark eyes. “What part of that didn’t your sweet mind understand?”

No way would she back down from him. “Didn’t I tell you before not to touch me?”

His eyes widened for a second before he drew her chest to chest, thigh to thigh with him. “So it’s okay for that bookstore clerk to put his hands on you, to touch that smooth skin of yours, to whisper in your ear, but not me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting like a jealous fool. Did that man beat whatever common sense is in your brains into idiotic mush?” He was acting irrational, almost proprietary—and heaven help her, she was turned on by it. Frankly, she didn’t know which disturbed her most.

He glared at her, his breathing rapid with anger. His gaze dropped to her parted lips and he groaned. She wasn’t the only one turned on, if the evidence of his arousal was any indication. And it was a very nice indication, too.

“You drive me crazy, you clueless American.” He released her and turned away, hands on his hips, as if to regain a measure of calm.

She tapped his shoulder.

“What?”

She jumped at his snarl and smiled. Driving him crazy was rather enjoyable. “What did you say to the guy with one eye? I saw you hold a switchblade to his throat.”

“I told him if he ever tried to harm you, I’d cut his tongue out.” He turned and glared at her in an intimidating way. “If you don’t start obeying me, I’ll cut your tongue out, too.”

Gwen would have said, “You enjoy my tongue too much when we kiss to do that.” But she wasn’t Gwen. She was never quick with the comebacks the way her sister was. Instead, she looked him in the eye. “The day will never come when I obey you or any man.”

His hand snaked behind her waist and drew her to him. “Don’t push me. Not now. Not when I’m so damned mad at you I could…” His dark head tilted and his lips captured hers. Passion pooled in her system and dripped—no, surged—into her groin. She wrapped an arm around his neck, seeking to prolong the sweet assault of his lips and tongue. He groaned, deepening the kiss.

When his phone chirped, he released her and reached in his jacket pocket for it. “Bonjour. Oui, Henri.”

A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped.

“Just me, sweet pea. Here’s your man’s purchase. No doubt he’s forgotten all about it.” Eddie held out a bag. Its contents were wrapped in green and yellow striped paper. “I saw how he kissed you. Don’t kid yourself into thinking he’s not attracted. Girlfriend, you could curl him around your little finger. Well, back to the slave mines.” The clerk rolled his eyes and blew her a kiss.

Alyson’s attention was drawn to Niko when he began shouting into the phone. The tension and irritation were evident not only in his body language but in the way he spoke. Although she couldn’t catch all of the French, she was getting the gist of Niko’s frustration with the situation. He kept asking the same question: how did the terrorists always know where they were?

He wasn’t the only one upset. She was the one being pursued, the one whose life was in danger and the one who was damned tired of all the intrigue and drama.

She tapped on his shoulder and he turned, a dark eyebrow arched in question. “I want to go home. Get me back to America now. Tonight.”

“You have no passport. You know that.” Exasperation all but dripped from his voice.

“I also know governments work together in emergencies. I’ve got an emergency here. I’m in danger. I want to go home.” She knew she sounded petulant, but she was tired, her feet hurt and she wanted to soak in a tub.

“Pardon, sil vous plait.” Niko held the phone to his side. His eyes softened as if he read her mind and his hand with skinned knuckles cupped her cheek. “I’ll have you at the safe house soon. You can rest and take a hot bath. I’ll massage your feet for you. We’ll talk.” He wrapped his arm around her and drew her against him, holding her there as he finished his call to Henri.

Meanwhile, her fatigued mind snagged on something he said. Would he really massage her feet? The corners of her mouth curved in feline pleasure. She’d probably fall asleep purring. No, that wouldn’t be good. How could a woman walk away from a man who massaged her feet?

Saying good-bye to magnetic Niko Reynard would be hard enough. Her heart constricted at that thought. How had this man become so important to her in so short a time? It made no sense. This attraction had to be the emotional result, some psychological condition born from her fear and worry of being in the terrorists’ crosshairs. She needed to return to Asheville to safety. Still, the question remained: would she be fleeing from the terrorists or from the man holding her against his chest?

“I want to go home.”

“Let’s find a taxi, shall we? I think we’ll save the Notre Dame for tomorrow or the day after.” Niko had ended the call and was already leading her to the street, searching for a taxi.

“I told you, I want to go home.” Her voice rose as a jolt of hysteria hit her. She was in danger and on the run. How many attacks on one’s life could a person endure in one day?

“Easy now. Take a deep breath. Things will be all right.” His hand rested in the small of her back, making small circles.

A taxi eased to the side of the curb when Niko flagged it. He opened the door and she slid in. Sitting beside her, Niko gave an address to the driver before turning to her. “We’ll go get my car and then drive to the safe house. It’s been a long day. I know you’re tired.”

“Yes, I am.” His leg was against hers, its warmth gliding up to her core, doing marvelous and sensual things to her body. She really needed to get away from him and his very potent effect on her. “I told you I want to go home. I want to go back to the States.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted away from his touch.

The taxi driver glanced in his rearview mirror at her. Okay, so I am being childish. So kill me. Why not? Hell, everyone else is trying to.

Niko laughed and tugged at a strand of her hair before leaning over to look into her eyes. “Gee, and I was going to take you for some Berthillon ice cream. They make the best ice cream in all of Paris. Their dark chocolate is magnificent.”

The taxi driver nodded his head in agreement. “Oui. Delicieuse. Magnifique.”

“Margo, my oldest sister, claims it’s better than an orgasm. Too bad you’re not up to eating some.” Niko winked at her before settling back in the seat.

She narrowed her eyes at him. The man could be so infuriating. Just how did he know ice cream was one of her biggest weaknesses? “Well, I don’t want any ice cream or an orgasm.” Oh, I am so going to hell for that lie.

The taxi driver snorted and shook his head. “Tres pitoyable.”

“Yes, she is pitiful, isn’t she?” Niko chuckled and glanced out at the Paris night with its twinkling jewel lights. “Believe me, Aly, you could use both. Maybe for once, you’d relax.”

The taxi driver snorted and nodded his head as if in agreement.

Alyson gasped and sputtered before she slapped Niko’s arm. “How dare you say something like that to me?”

He turned, his eyes raking over her. “You know, I don’t think one orgasm would be enough for you. A woman as repressed as you would need several.”

Several? Did he say several? She squeezed her thighs together and told that part of her body to mind its own business—which, unfortunately, it was.

“Oui, beaucoup,” chirped the taxi driver, his head bobbing like one of those cheap bobble-head dolls.

“I do not need several orgasms!” I can hear the gates of hell squeaking open as that lie tumbles from my lips. She crossed her arms over her chest again and shot both men a disgusted glare.

“Careful, Aly, or I’ll kiss that pout off your face.”

“Hunh, you wouldn’t dare, you cocky, arrogant Frenchman.”

The taxi driver slammed on the brakes and turned in his seat.

“What…what are you doing? Why did you stop?” Drivers behind them were honking their horns. Alyson turned to glance out the back window at the headlights.

“I want to see how this cocky, arrogant Frenchman handles an uptight American.” He waved a hand at Niko and tilted his head in his direction as if to issue a challenge.

“You speak English?”

The driver shrugged. “When it suits me, yes.” His gaze turned to Niko. “Now, how will you handle this frigid American woman?”

“Frigid! Why you…” Niko tugged her onto his lap as she slapped at his arms. “Don’t you dare kiss me!”

He bent over her, his lips to her ear. “Grant me one kiss, one little kiss to save face with this driver.” She trembled in response and pushed at his chest. “Please, cherie.”

The taxi started moving again.

She stilled. “The cab’s moving. You can let me go now.”

“One moment.” He brushed a few strands of hair from her face. “I know you’ve had one of the worst days of your life. I’m sorry for that. I’d undo it all if I could.”

Goodness, his voice was almost hypnotic. This man, with an excessively male spirit that enveloped her, caressed her. His scent, a mixture of expensive cologne and male musk helped weave a magic spell.

He pressed his lips to her neck just below her ear. His stubble rubbed against her skin. Her eyes drifted shut as a tremor of desire, hot and powerful, swept through her. “I want to keep you safe, cherie.” A warm kiss, feather light, caressed her cheek. “Promise me you’ll stay with me so I can keep you from harm.” Light kisses touched her closed eyelids. “When you walk away from me, I can’t protect you.” He kissed the corners of her mouth, first one and then the other. “Promise me you’ll stay with me.” His warm lips covered her mouth, and her arms slid around his neck. “Promise, Aly,” he whispered against her lips, and she nodded her assent as her tongue met his. Her feelings swirled into a vortex of need as their kiss deepened.

“Okay, lovers, you are at your destination.”