Chapter Eight

Niko slowly pulled away from the enticing woman in his arms. He could have kissed her for hours, especially with her arms wrapped around his neck and her firm breasts pressed against his chest. Her moans and soft, sensuous lips quickly drained the day’s annoyance and stress from his tightly-wound nerves. He blinked several times to clear his head, as if a man could clear anything after kissing her.

The level of sensuality bubbling beneath this woman’s uptight exterior had yet to be tapped. Some lucky bastard would one day capture her heart and tap into her sensual nature. Rage and loathing rose to the surface so fast, they took his breath away. Some lucky bastard. Not him. Their time together was brief and getting shorter by the second. He would do well to remember that.

The taxi stopped. He kissed her once more, pulling her closer. “Get your purchases, cherie.” He pressed his lips to the fullness of her breasts straining from the top of her sundress. Her breathing hitched in that delightful way he adored. His need for her was growing stronger than his need for air. Keeping his distance would be difficult. Hell, who was he kidding. He wasn’t planning on keeping his distance.

Aly pushed him away and sat up.

“Does the American still think the Frenchman cocky and arrogant?” Both turned to regard the smiling cab driver, his arm over the back of his seat. “Amour, oui.”

Aly scrambled so quickly to get out of the cab and away from the nosy driver’s questions, Niko nearly laughed out loud. She looked around the neighborhood as the taxi sped away. She cleared her throat and fussed with her hair, clearly uncomfortable after the scene in the cab.

“Here, let me take your package.” She was obviously reeling from their all-too-short encounter. He hoped she didn’t give him the “don’t touch me again” speech. After that heated embrace, keeping his hands off her would be difficult. Hell, damned difficult bordering on freakin’ impossible.

Beneath the illuminating street lamps, her blonde hair gleamed. Aly gave him a blank look, her eyes glazed and lips swollen. “My…my package? Yes. Oh, I forgot. It’s yours. Books you bought back at Shakespeare and Company.”

Her present. “Thank you, I’d forgotten all about the books.” Niko held the bag in one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist, leading her up the street. Just for a measure of security, he had the taxi driver take them to a location a few blocks from where he parked his car. He didn’t think they were followed, but then he thought that all day and still the terrorists found them. Later tonight he planned on doing some investigating. While he couldn’t put his finger on it, something didn’t feel right.

“Do you prefer tea or coffee, Aly?”

She looked up at him. “Coffee. I’ve developed a taste for espressos during my short stay here.”

“Really? Well lucky for you, I make an awesome espresso. If I remember correctly, there is an espresso maker at the safe house. Our staff will have it stocked with the essentials, and in Paris that includes coffee.” He guided her down a different street, keeping a running dialogue going so she wouldn’t notice he was taking her in circles.

A couple walked by arm-in-arm, their private romantic reverie punctuated with kisses. Approaching them was a man walking his dog and speaking into his cell. Niko mentally listed descriptions of them all.

“Do you use the safe house a lot?”

“From time to time, yes. Other agents use it more often. I rarely catch a protection detail anymore. For the most part, I am a nine-to-five worker, living with my maman in the same house where I grew up.”

Aly’s soft chuckle turned his head. “In America, we have a running joke about grown men who still live with their mothers.”

“Which is?” He was enjoying her company and wished she were up to walking for another hour or so, but she’d been through too much today. She deserved a bit of pampering.

“Well, they are either momma’s boys, who will never marry, or lazy men who want to live off Mother instead of getting a job.”

“Ah, but I have a job. So, that only leaves momma’s boy. Since I’m not married, I guess that applies.” He glared at her for a beat. “Wait, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

Aly’s laugh caressed both the night and his heart. Something he would do well to guard, because when she left Paris—and she would—he would be lost again, just like he was after losing Hae-Won. He glanced away for a beat, willing those awful feelings of despair and guilt back to the dark depths of his soul.

She was still chuckling, and he welcomed her mirth. “A government agent momma’s boy.” She cocked her head and gazed up at him. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “Great! Just what I need in my life, another smart-alecky woman.” Lively music wafted from the many cafés dotting the street, like lights on a Christmas tree. The cafés were doing their usual brisk business. Laughter, conversations, wine corks popping, espresso machines hissing and that wonderful Parisian blend of sweet and pungent aromas scenting the night air signaled home for him.

“What duties does the second in command of the counterterrorism unit have?”

“I do a variety of things. The unit was revamped three years ago, and I was asked to take over this position.”

“Where did you work before?”

Two young men shouldered their way past them, and Niko mentally noted their descriptions. “Interpol. I traveled a lot on that job, but now with the French counterterrorism unit I am usually here in the city. I mainly handle analytical and administrative duties with less and less assignments in the field.” He guided her around a large group of young adults standing in the middle of the sidewalk, teasing and taunting each other.

“Are you happy about that, James-momma’s-boy-Bond?”

Well, listen to her. The woman had a charming sense of humor when she relaxed enough to use it. “Yes, for the most part, I’m very satisfied with my job, especially if I help apprehend the bad guys.”

“Like you did today?” She cast her blue eyes on him again.

“The ones I caught today are not my ultimate target.” No, his ultimate target was the leader of this ring of miscreants and killers. The man known as the death architect, the man who was responsible for Hae-Won’s death. The man he pursued for more than three years. The man whom he now suspected was Dembri all along. Now Dembri had another woman Niko cared about in his demented, determined and deathly sights. He’d be damned if this man would succeed again.

“You want the leader, don’t you?”

He escorted her across the busy street, full of energy and humanity. “Yes, more than you can imagine. Enough about me. Tell me something intriguing about you.”

She shook her head and sighed. “There’s nothing interesting about me, much less intriguing.”

He stopped walking. “Look at me.”

She lifted her blue eyes to meet his.

“Stop looking down on yourself. Tell me, are you a believer in God?”

She nodded.

“Then you know God created you to be a woman. Beautiful. Smart. Talented. Charming. Brave. You are all those things, cherie. You were especially brave back at Shakespeare and Company. You fought back. In life, one must always fight back.”

“Do you charm every woman you meet this way?”

“What way?” He bent to breathe a kiss on her cheek.

“Make her feel as if she were the most wonderful woman in the world. A woman expects her sister or her girlfriends to say things like that to her, but never a man.”

What kind of coldhearted male was she married to? Had he not shown her any human kindness? Had he not given her any emotional support? Had he been so self-centered he never saw to the emotional needs of his wife?

“Perhaps you’ve been hanging around the wrong kind of man. Besides, I was raised in a family of outstanding women. Beautiful, talented, creative and opinionated women.” He smiled as he often did when he talked about his family. “They taught me a lot.” He started walking again. “Drove me nuts, but taught me a lot. Four sisters. Can you imagine the indignities I had to endure?”

“I bet they spoiled you rotten and you loved every minute of it.”

“What man doesn’t enjoy the attentions of a woman? It’s how we are wired. God created us to need each other.” They were finally approaching his car and he reached in his pocket for his key fob to unlock the trunk.

****

Alyson rested her head against the headrest as Niko navigated the busy streets. The purr of the car and the warmth emanating off her companion lulled her into a state of relaxation. Her eyelids were getting heavy.

Niko reached over and took her hand. “Tired?”

“Yes, very. Just cataloging all that happened today. So much. You know, if I were to read about today in a book, I wouldn’t believe it. I started a blog after my separation from Chaz to chronicle the healing from his betrayal. My last few postings were about preparing for this trip and my first day here. Wait until I post about all of this. Maybe I’ll title it, ‘A day in the life of an American tourist or how to get your ass in trouble while traveling abroad.’”

Niko laughed and down-shifted his car. “Do I need to tell you there are some things you can’t blog about?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Like what?” Like all Americans, she enjoyed her freedom of speech.

“The location of our safe house and anything I tell you. Blog about your experience in the Louvre and about what happened to us this afternoon, but no names. People need protection.”

“Okay, I can deal with that.” She didn’t want anyone else hurt, certainly not because of her or anything she wrote.

“Thanks. Today’s been one of those days no one should have.”

“Oh, yeah, too much drama.” Too much virile male, too much kissing, too much feeling.

“Well, a minute or two and we’ll be on ile Saint Louis, the location of the safe house. My home is a few blocks away. Ile Saint Louis is a charming small island in the middle of the city. I’ve lived there most of my life, terrorizing the neighbors and chasing the girls. I love every inch of it. Most tourists go to the sister island just across the bridge that houses the Notre Dame and the police headquarters where you spent time earlier today. Our little island is like an oasis from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the city. It is remarkably the same as it was centuries ago.”

“Sounds lovely. The architecture here in Paris is beautiful. I know it sounds corny, but I’ve been awed by the beauty of this city.”

He raised her hand again and kissed it. “Perhaps because the city is more beautiful with you here.”

Okay, so how am I to respond to that? Best to just let that remark float on by as if she hadn’t noticed—or been charmed by it. “I know I’ve said I want to go home, but I’m also sad my trip here won’t be as long as I planned. There’s so much I haven’t seen yet.”

Niko turned into a short drive, depressed the button to open his window and keyed in the security code. Motion detector lights beamed as the heavy wooden gates opened.

“This is the safe house?” She glanced around the illuminated large cobblestone courtyard flanked with large potted greenery and flowers. A pale yellow brick building wrapped around the court on three sides. White trim framed each window. While some windows were covered with white shutters, others had small wrought iron balconies projecting from them.

“As you’ve probably guessed, real estate in Paris is at a premium. Unlike American cities, the high rent district in Paris is the middle of the city, with the less desirable neighborhoods at its outer regions. This delightfully old building houses several families. Our little apartment is small, but adequate for our needs. Come on, let’s get our things and get settled for the night.”

Niko keyed in a code at the entry door to the wing housing their quarters and held the door open for her. “I see Maman was here. I called her after the incident at the bookstore and asked her to pack a bag for me and bring over some food.”

“She knows the security code?”

He picked up a duffle bag and a net tote bag of food, juggling it with bags from their shopping earlier. “She does now. Do you mind going up the steps? We’ll never fit in the elevator with our luggage and shopping bags.”

Alyson glanced up the wide wooden stairway, and her feet cried out in protest. “Couldn’t we make two trips in the elevator?” She couldn’t wait to get these heels off.

“Okay. I know you’re tired.” He set his duffle bag back down and took her shopping bags and wrapped painting from her. They stepped in the tiny elevator and a few seconds later they were at the second floor. Niko led her down the hall. Floorboards creaked as they probably had for centuries. He unlocked a small box beside the door and opened the panel. When he pressed his thumb against a glass screen a red optic line scanned it. A buzzer sounded. With another key, he opened the door.

“You’ll be safe in here.” He turned on the lights and handed her the packages and bags. “I’ll go down for the rest of our things. Don’t worry, the door will lock automatically. A buzzer will sound in here when I scan my thumb print again.”

Alyson took in the wide entry hall containing a daybed with a small bachelor’s chest and lamp at one end. She stepped through a wide doorway to her right flanked by opened glass doors. This must be what the French refer to as a salon. She took in the desk and chair, sofa, two wide upholstered chairs with a large matching ottoman and various stands. On the wall above a gas fireplace hung a flat screen TV.

Further down the hall, she found a small kitchen and a tiny bathroom with a shower. At the end of the hall was a bedroom and bath with a large tub. One bedroom. Two bathrooms. One bedroom, oh God.

The buzzer sounded, indicating Niko’s return. She met him in the hallway. “There’s only one bedroom.”

“That’s how this apartment is laid out. I sleep here on the daybed, a sentinel guarding the door.” He smiled and set his duffle bag on the daybed before wheeling her carry-on back to the bedroom. She followed. “Why don’t you take a bath and relax. I’ll make you an espresso, if you like.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She took both his hands and examined his bruised knuckles. “You need ice on your hands.” Her fingers touched his bruised cheek. “And here, you need ice.” She hated he was hurt because of her. She stood on tiptoes and placed a kiss on his bruises.

He stilled, his breathing shallow. “It feels better already.”

“Are you in any pain?”

He quirked an eyebrow the way he did when he found something humorous.

“You…ah…you don’t think you have any internal injuries, do you?”

“No, cherie, just a few bruises. No big deal. Maman put a bottle of champagne in the bag of food. Would you prefer that or the espresso?”

“Champagne, I think. Maybe it’ll calm me down enough to help me sleep. I’m tired but wired.”

“Yeah, me, too. I’ll shower while you take your bath. There should be bath salts in the bathroom. Use whatever you need. Relax, you’re safe here.” He turned and walked out of her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Alyson stared at the lock on the door. It would be prudish to lock it. She reached out and flicked the lock. Yet, foolhardy not to. Not that she didn’t trust Niko. Frankly, it was herself she was starting to have questions about.

While water and bubbles filled the bathtub, she unpacked the clothes Niko chose for her—interesting choices. Imagine, a man choosing her clothes. A long sigh tumbled from her lips when she eased down into the hot water. She leaned back and closed her eyes. The soapy water stung the scrapes on her knees and the heels of her palms. Every muscle in her body responded to the warmth of her bath. What a day!

She was tugging on her faded checked sleep shorts when a gentle knock sounded. Her eyes focused on the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Just checking to make sure you didn’t fall asleep in the tub. I’m slicing some cheese to have with wine. Do you want some?”

She was a little hungry. “Yes, I’d love it. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“No rush. Could you bring your laptop along? I want to run some spyware programs on it before you use it. Just to make sure it’s not infected in any way.”

“Okay. Will it take long? I want to send Gwen some pictures tonight.”

“Tell you what. Bring your media card and we’ll download them to my laptop. You can e-mail her on mine. I know it’s clean.”

“Will do.” She pulled on a faded yellow T-shirt with a smiling worm eating an apple and a slogan that proclaimed, “Teachers change lives.” After she ran a comb through her wet hair, she reached for her lip gloss and stopped. She’d be going to bed soon. Why bother? It wasn’t as if she were trying to look good for Niko. Although she did wish she packed prettier nightgowns and a robe to wear in Paris. Something more sophisticated than her old comfy sleep clothes.

She rubbed more body lotion onto her arms. When she rubbed it on her legs earlier, she fell in love with the scent. Simone had great judgment when it came to choosing a fragrance. She dabbed some matching perfume behind her ears and on the pulse points of her elbows.

Wanting her hair to perk up a little more, she applied some gel she got at Simone’s and styled it with her fingertips. No, she would not put on lip gloss. She wasn’t going to any trouble for that bothersome man with the dark eyes.

When she added some of her new eye liner, she smiled at the results. Reaching for her new mocha eye shadow—just to see how it looked, not that she was trying to draw attention to her eyes for Niko’s benefit—she smudged some on her eyelids. Then to test the desired combined effect, she added a couple layers of rich brown mascara to her pale lashes. After all, if she wore lip gloss what kind of message would that send to the man? No, she’d not do it.

She flicked open the blush and brushed a little on her cheeks, just to check the color, you understand, not to look good for Mr. Arrogance. The unopened wand of lip gloss beckoned. No, she would not put any extra efforts into her appearance…