Read Online Scorpion Deception by Andrew Kaplan - Free Book Online Page B

good,” he said, and in spite of herself, she sputtered, laughing.
    â€œDamn you,” she laughed. “So what is your name? Is it really Nick? Or is it Michael, or do you have one for every day of the week?”
    He wiped his mouth with his napkin.
    â€œI shouldn’t have come. It was stupid. Self-indulgent. I’m so very sorry,” he said, frowning. “We need to leave Paris. Both of us. Tonight.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about? I’m not leaving.”
    â€œLook, I know it sounds insane, but right now you’d be safer in Africa. I think you should go back to Dadaab. Now. Right away. I’m begging you.”
    She examined him with her lion’s eyes.
    â€œYou know,” she said, “the Canadian nurse, Jennifer. She e-mailed me. She said the boy, Ghedi, the one you saved from Somalia, all he talks about is you. That you’re coming for him.”
    â€œI will,” he said, his voice thick. He had to take a sip of wine to go on. “Have to clean this up first.”
    â€œI don’t understand any of this. Why did you come tonight? Truly?”
    He looked at her. Smooth golden skin, high cheekbones, and eyes like no one else’s.
    â€œYou know why,” he said, barely able to get it out. The effect she had on him was unbelievable.
    â€œTiens!” she whispered, mostly to herself. “Come on,” she said, taking his hand for him to get up.
    â€œWhere are we going?” he said, following her up and motioning to the waiter for the bill.
    â€œMy place. I’m going to rip your clothes off and have sex with you.”
    As they headed for the door, the waiter, a Gallic half smile on his lips as if he knew exactly why they were leaving, handed him the bill, and Scorpion shoved a handful of euros at him.
    â€œWhy?” he asked as they nodded to the maître d’ and stepped outside, the street dark and nearly empty except for the streetlights shining on the cobblestones and darkened shop windows.
    â€œI don’t care whether you’re lying or telling the truth,” she said. “That was the sexiest proposition I’ve ever heard in my life.” They started walking toward the Place des Ternes when he stopped suddenly. He had spotted the brown Peugeot parked near the corner.
    She looked at him, and he pulled her close as if to kiss her, his eyes quartering the Peugeot and the street. He put his lips to her ear.
    â€œWhen we get to the Place des Ternes, don’t ask questions. Run down the stairs to the Metro without me. Make sure you’re not followed home. I’ll come later if I can. What’s the address?”
    â€œWhat’s going on?” she whispered back.
    â€œWe’re being followed,” he said, and kissed her so long and hard he almost forgot what he was doing.
    â€œMon dieu,” she said, catching her breath. “Eight rue du Terrage, au troisième étage . It’s in the 10th Arrondissement, near the Canal St. Martin.”
    â€œI know the canal,” he said, taking her arm, the two walking together. He had spotted a glint of metal reflected from the shadows in a parked Renault Mégane half a block behind them. As they walked toward the lights of the Place des Ternes, he could feel her trembling beside him.
    I n the center of the square was the entrance to the Metro, and next to it a shuttered flower stall. Scorpion spotted a front tail behind a tree near the stall. He didn’t have to turn around to sense the tail behind them. They were bracketed.
    â€œIs this how it’s going to be?” Sandrine whispered.
    â€œJe ne sais pas comment il va être.” I don’t know how it is going to be. “Run!” he said abruptly, pushing her toward the Metro entrance. He had a sense of her running down the stairs as he whirled and kneeled into a shooting position, pulling the Glock from the ankle holster under his trouser leg.
    â€œNe bougez, trouduc!”