Authors: Lynn Raye Harris
Sophie dragged in a frustrated breath and turned away from him. God, it was all so complicated. “Why did I mail it? Why didn’t I just take it with me and hand it over when I reached you?”
His hands were on her shoulders. She liked it much too much.
“You were scared. Getting the flash drive out of your possession wasn’t a bad thing to do.”
“But now all we can do is wait for it to show up—and hope Turov doesn’t get it first.”
“No plan is without flaws.” He pushed her hair aside and put his mouth to her neck. Softly. Gently. His tongue caressed the love bites, and a shiver slipped down her spine. “If we have to wait, I can think of a few things we can do.”
Warmth flooded her core. And a wave of tenderness swept through her heart. “Do you want to be naughty, Chase?”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
“We just got dressed,” she said as his fingers slipped beneath her sweater.
“Is that a problem?”
He found her nipple, tweaked it. Sophie bit her lip to stop the moan in her throat.
“Definitely not.”
“Good, because I want to strip you naked and bend you over. Then I’m going to fuck you from behind until you scream my name.” He licked her neck and she shuddered hard, her pussy tingling with anticipation. “How does that sound?”
“Like something I’m going to enjoy.”
“Fuck yeah, it does.” He straightened and turned her toward him. “But first, call Madame Renard.”
He held out his cell phone and she took it with shaking fingers. “I have to call Tyler to get the number. It was in my phone, but I don’t remember it.”
Chase’s expression went carefully blank. “Then call him.”
“Do you want to talk to him?”
The corners of his mouth tightened. She wanted to kiss that tension away, but she didn’t move. Her fingers were sweaty where she gripped the phone and her heart throbbed.
But Chase didn’t get angry—or if he did, he didn’t show it.
“No, I don’t want to talk to him.”
She started to punch in the number, but he reached out and touched her hand.
“Don’t stay on the line, Sophie. Any tracking attempts will be jammed by the system, but the longer you talk, the more information you give away. Just ask for the number and get off the line.”
She blinked at him. “I’ll do my best.”
“Do better than your best, babe. Our lives depend on it.”
24
S
he’d gotten the phone number while Chase stood there and listened to the call, gritting his teeth and trying not to snatch the phone away and tell Tyler what a motherfucking asshole he was. And not just because of how he’d treated Chase’s mom.
Now he added Sophie to that mix. She was a tender, sweet, lonely girl who’d deserved better from the asswipes who’d raised her. He’d thought she’d grown up with everything she’d ever wanted, but he understood now that the things she’d wanted couldn’t be bought.
She’d managed Tyler well enough, getting the number and getting him off the phone quickly, and then she’d called Madame Renard. She’d spoken in French, and he’d stared at her as if she’d turned into an alien. She hadn’t spoken French at the airport, nor with the estate agent—though there was that one moment when she’d said
merci.
But anyone could do that. He’d thought nothing of it, but damn if she didn’t speak French.
And it was sexy as all fuck.
When she got off the phone, she shook her head. Chase’s gut churned at the look on her face.
“Madame says there have been men in and out of the building all day. She won’t give Tyler’s mail to a strange man she doesn’t know.”
Chase wanted to punch something. Instead, he focused on the obvious while he worked to control his temper. “You speak French. You didn’t tell me that.”
“And you quote Shakespeare.”
“Fucking to be or not to be, baby. That is the question. Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows, blah, blah, blah.”
“Damn, Chase, listen to you rock Hamlet old-school.”
“I’m a man of many talents.”
Sophie handed him the phone and then shoved her hands into her pockets. “So I guess I have to go with you after all.”
A flash of anger sizzled into him. “How do I know you even suggested she give me the package without you there?”
Because she spoke fucking French. For all he knew, she’d been discussing the weather with Madame Renard.
Her eyes widened. And then her brows slanted down. “You think I would do that?”
“I don’t know,” he growled. “Maybe. You didn’t tell me about Madame Renard until we hit Paris—not to mention how determined you were to come with me in the first place.”
Her cheeks were red, but not with embarrassment. With anger, he decided as her eyes flashed. “I’m not stupid, Chase. Yes, I wanted to come to Paris because it’s
my
life in danger, and no, I didn’t tell you about Madame Renard at first. I already told you why.”
“Will she give the package to you?”
“I think so. I told her that Tyler would call her and give her permission to do so.”
“Fucking hell. So now you have to call that asshole back.”
“Yes, I do. But not right now.”
“This blows, Sophie. You going anywhere near that fucking building is
not
safe. Turov and his men will be all over it tomorrow, waiting for the package to arrive. We’re going to have to change the plan. We’ll have to hit the carrier before he gets to the building.”
She swiped her tongue over her lower lip and heat arrowed into his cock.
Not right now.
“How are we going to do that?”
He took out his phone. “Going to call Hawk and see what information he can get. Then we’re going shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“You aren’t disguised enough, baby. Not for getting anywhere near Tyler’s place. We’re going to fix that.”
She cocked her head. “You aren’t worried they’ll spot me tonight while we’re out, but I need to be more disguised tomorrow?”
“That’s exactly right.”
Her sudden smile did things to him that he didn’t understand. Her expression was happy, and that made him happy for some reason, in spite of all the turmoil. Damn, what was that all about?
“Okay, let’s do it,” she said. “I don’t get it, but let’s do it.”
He called Hawk and explained the change in plan. It would necessitate moving to another safe house afterward, but that was doable. And then there was the matter of getting the carrier’s movements in real time. That wasn’t going to be easy, but Hawk was on it. If that failed, then yeah, they were going into Madame Renard’s with guns blazing—well, maybe not literally, but close.
After the call, they prepared to go out. Chase tucked guns into the holsters beneath his jacket and at his ankle. He armed himself with a knife too, just in case. Sophie watched him with a worried expression.
“I don’t expect trouble tonight, but I can’t go out unprepared,” he said.
It was dark and they were wearing jackets. Sophie had a scarf around her neck and over her hair. She didn’t look anything like the Sophie Nash that Androv’s people knew. Tonight they were Nathan and Beth Chandler, newlyweds.
She nodded. “I didn’t stop to think how dangerous your job must be if you always have to be armed.”
“I’m a soldier, Sophie. I fight wars you’ll never know about. This is nothing.”
“I’m beginning to understand that. It’s frightening.”
He frowned. “Do you want to stay here? I’ll go pick up some things and you can order takeout for us. When I get back, we’ll spend the night inside. You can translate French TV for me.”
She laughed, but her arms came up and she hugged herself. Her eyes seemed a little shiny. “No, I want to go out. I just… I don’t want anything to happen to you, Chase.”
“I don’t either.” He went over and put his hands on her shoulders. Why did he need to touch her like this? He didn’t know, but damn if he could stop himself. “Hey, I’ve been in the Army for nearly eight years. I’ve been in Spec Ops for four of those years. I’m good at my job and it saves lives.”
She looked up at him with such softness in her gaze that his heart thumped hard in his chest. “Okay. I’ll stop worrying then.”
“Sure you will.”
She slipped her arms around him and stepped in until she could put her cheek on his chest. He liked that. He slid a hand up and into her hair. If he wasn’t careful, he could strip her naked and take her to bed without ever setting foot outside tonight.
“You’re sweet, Sophie. I take back everything I ever said about not liking you.”
He felt her chuckle. She pushed back, her eyes shining and bright. “Apparently, sex is the ticket into your good graces. Before that, I was just a woman who’d brought a whole lot of trouble to town with me.”
“Sex doesn’t hurt. I can forgive a lot when the sex is as smoking as it is with you.”
He loved that she blushed. And he knew part of the reason she did was because she didn’t believe he meant what he said. She thought he was exaggerating to make her feel better.
He tipped her chin up and made her look at him. “I lied about Shakespeare, okay? I know who he is, and yeah, I even know some lines. But this is too important to lie about. You’re hot as hell, Sophie, and I never lie about how good the sex is. If I tell you it’s smoking, I mean it.”
She sniffed and twisted her fingers in the open edge of his jacket. “Tell me another line from Shakespeare.”
“You’re killing me, Soph.” He sucked in a breath. “Okay, fine. ‘O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend / The brightest heaven of invention, / A kingdom for a stage, princes to act / And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!’”
“Holy cow, you know
Henry V
.”
“Well, I did quote you the ‘once more unto the breach’ line. Why are you surprised?”
“I thought maybe you’d picked up that line from TV or something. What the hell were you doing that you learned
Henry V
?”
He sighed. Fucking hell. “Drama club, okay? I went through a nerdy phase.”
Her mouth hung open. And then she snapped it shut and started to laugh.
“What?” he asked sullenly.
“It was the girlfriend, wasn’t it?
Jane.
Sixteen, getting a piece of pussy—you did whatever she wanted, didn’t you?”
Why did he feel heat creeping up his neck? “Go ahead and laugh—yeah, I did whatever she wanted. When it’s your first taste of sex, you pretty much do whatever you have to in order to get more. Jane had a hard-on for Shakespeare. Therefore, I had a hard-on for Shakespeare. The more I quoted those damn lines to her, the hornier she got.”
Sophie started to giggle. She slapped a hand over her mouth, but she didn’t stop. Then she stepped backward and bent over, laughing and hugging her middle. He wanted to be stern and dignified, but hell, she laughed so cutely. And it
was
kinda funny.
Okay, maybe a lot funny.
He tried to keep a straight face, but it wasn’t easy. Pretty soon he was laughing too, though he’d stop every once in a while and try to be stern with her.
“Sophie.”
She kept laughing, and then he laughed. Fuck.
He steered her over to the couch and let her collapse on it. Then he stood over her and told himself to stop fucking laughing. Didn’t do much good though, and he fell onto the couch too, laughing with her.
Hell, he hadn’t laughed like this in, well, forever. Other than laughing with the guys at Buddy’s Bar, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much damned fun with a woman—a civilian—that he lost his shit.
“I’m glad you’re amused,” he told her seriously.
More giggles. She peered up at him, tears rolling down her cheeks, and he thought,
Fucking hell, she’s amazing.
Which was not what he needed to be thinking about Miss Sophie Nash. But he couldn’t help it because, dammit, she was pretty spectacular. Once you got past the smoke and mirrors and into the heart of the girl, she was someone you wanted to know more about. Someone you felt like you could trust.
Finally she sucked in a breath and worked on calming herself. He was still laughing too, but not as hard as she was. Together they sort of ran out of steam until all they were doing was smiling and lying back on the couch. They turned their heads to look at each other.
“Finished laughing at me?” he asked.
She giggled, but it didn’t last. “I think so. Sorry.”
“You aren’t.”
Her smile was electric. “No, not really. You had me going, Chase. All that macho Shakespeare-hate bullshit—and all the time, you could quote lines like the worst theater geek. Not because you admire the Bard, but because you wanted to get laid. I admire that level of dedication.”
He snorted softly. “Yeah, well, teenage boys will do anything for sex. Guess that proves it.”
“Oh please. As good-looking as you are, Jane wasn’t the only one willing, I bet.”
“Maybe not, but once I got her panties off, it was easier to learn some fricking lines of Shakespeare than to start over with another girl who might or might not be willing to put out. Jane was willing to put out with a frequency that made a teenage boy’s dreams come true. She was also the prettiest girl in my town, which didn’t hurt.”
Her expression softened, took on a wistful cast. “Probably blond. Head cheerleader, the most popular girl in school—all that stuff.”
By all that stuff, he was pretty sure she meant skinny. “Pretty much what you’d imagine, yeah. She also ended up having an affair with a married man who left his wife for her. It was quite the scandal.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Not when you were in high school though, right?”
“No. But she was only nineteen when it happened. He might have been fucking her when she was underage, but nobody knows for sure.”
“So your heart wasn’t broken, I assume?”
“Nope. By then I’d realized that other girls didn’t need Shakespeare to get them hot.”
“Poor Shakespeare.”
“I’m sure he’s unaffected by my betrayal.”
Sophie sighed. “Well, for your information, quoting lines to me will likely result in a loss of panties—but only the right lines.”
“Such as ‘Being your slave, what should I do but tend / Upon the hours and times of your desire’?”