Read Online Bait by Leslie Jones - Free Book Online Page B

trees to a parking area. The lot was barely half full. He shut off the engine and hopped out, opening Christina’s door while scanning the area around them. She drew the sweet spring air deeply into her lungs. Should she get out? Was she supposed to wait for a signal?
    â€œPrincess?”
    The title caused her to start. Gavin held out a hand, a small smile tugging at his mouth. Did he know about her? Undoubtedly. No way would Gabe fail to fill in everyone on his team. There seemed to be no condemnation in his eyes, however, as she extended her arm, remembering to place her fingertips into his palm and allow her wrist to arc gracefully downward. His forearm corded under his sleeve as he helped her from the limousine.
    Gabe came around the hood of the car and positioned himself to her left. “Let’s go. We’ll talk inside.”
    They left the driver behind as they entered Nanten’s famed baroque gardens. Gabe paid the entry fee and ushered her inside the double set of curved columns before anyone could react to Christina’s presence. They walked down a smooth brick path through more trees, then emerged into the open. Christina gave a soft gasp of pleasure.
    â€œThis is gorgeous!”
    Directly in front of them was a fountain, nestled in the center of a flat octagon that was easily thirty feet on each side. Past the fountain, acres and acres of flower beds spread out before her. She stopped at one of the informational plaques.
    â€œ ‘Famed landscape architect Sébastien Lalor designed the gardens 1673, in the French baroque style,’ ” she read aloud.
    â€œFascinating,” Gabe said. “Keep walking.”
    Christina barely had time to admire the vast beds of perfectly symmetrical curlicued hedges interspersed with flowers and statuary. Gabe hustled her off the main paths, avoiding groups of ­people, leading her away from the grand central fountain, a breathtaking triple-­tiered construct of golden water nymphs, fish, cherubs, and other figures she could not identify, all spouting water or frolicking about.
    He finally slowed, far from the entrance and on an unoccupied side path. Christina lifted her face to the warm sun, inhaling the mixed fragrance of greenery and blooms. After two weeks sequestered inside the princess’s apartments, the fresh air felt heavenly.
    â€œI thought you might need to get out of there for a while. Two weeks cooped up anywhere, and I’d be chewing my arm off. Gavin’ll let us know if anyone suspicious comes in, but I think we’re safe enough here.”
    Christina flicked him a look of surprise. They were here because he’d been concerned about her? “Thank you.”
    They ambled past an enormous urn, flowers circling its base.
    â€œWhat happened in Iraq?”
    The question came out of nowhere. Christina jerked, swiveling her head around to squint at Gabe. She clamped her lips over her first response: It’s none of your business. It was, though, really, wasn’t it? He had the right to know if she was reliable. Trustworthy. Competent.
    â€œThe mission was a bust,” she said, trying for matter-­of-­fact.
    â€œKeep going.”
    She fought the impulse to clear her throat. “My mission was to make contact with a smuggling ring, posing as an American importer who didn’t care where the merchandise came from.” Her hand fluttered in the air. “Every year, more than thirty-­two thousand exotic birds exported from Singapore and Indonesia make their way into American and European markets. The birds are declared as captive-­bred, but strong evidence suggests Singapore, in particular, doesn’t have the breeding capability that the exports would suggest. It’s a scam to circumvent international trade regulations.”
    â€œWhat happened ?” Impatience tinged his tone.
    â€œA lot of these birds are on the endangered-­species list,” she continued doggedly. If