Read Online Walking The Edge: A Romantic Suspense/Espionage Thriller (Corpus Brides Trilogy Book 1) by Zee Monodee - Free Book Online
Authors: Zee Monodee
Ads: Link
accommodate a woman in his hectic schedule?
Rashid’s smile disappeared. “You think this could be connected to the gang?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. The announcement on TV was premature. The Préfet wanted to reap the positive returns of such news on the population, paying no heed to the fact that we’ve uncovered only the tip of this iceberg.” He took another swig. “Damn if everything doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass when we least expect it.”
Uproar gripped the café, the men rising as one when their local team, l’Olympique de Marseille , scored a goal over its archrival, the Paris Saint Germain , on the big screen above the bar.
Rashid tapped his arm when the crowd returned to their seats and the view to the front door cleared. “That’s her there.”
Gerard sucked in a breath when his gaze landed on her. A beauty, all right. The flowing dark pants and long red coat made her look tall, but her frame would be small underneath the clothes, and she wouldn’t top out much above five feet. Her short hair had been brushed back, baring the perfection of her profile to the roving perusal of every male in the room.
He shook himself after a few seconds. He knew not what she was doing here and what she wanted from him, so he’d better stay on his guard.
She stood in the middle of the bar, stance erect and focused. The bartender, Sami, called out, asking if he could help. She shook her head before slowly scoping out the room.
Rashid was right—too much purpose in her. Bad sign.
“What will you do?” his friend asked.
Gerard fixed his focus on her. “She’d be stupid to try anything in such a crowded place. Let her come.” He paused. “You know the drill?”
“Sure do.” Rashid left the booth as quietly as he had come.
She hadn’t spotted him yet, if she even knew what he looked like. He had no doubt she did, though. One always knew the target when on a mission. She confirmed his suspicions a few seconds later, when she turned towards the inside of the room and saw him at the booth.
*
He is here. She breathed out a sigh of relief.
At the back of the bistro, he sat alone at a table. Shadows hovered around him but couldn’t conceal his face. Even in the dark interior, she could make out the hard, chiselled lines of his features and could imagine the flash of his sea-blue eyes in the dimness. His clothes, especially the denim jacket, gave the illusion of a casual stance, but the calm composure would be deceptive, a façade for inherent danger and ruthlessness.
Steeling herself with a deep, fortifying breath, she started in his direction. Halfway there, his keen stare on her made her squirm. The closer she got, the more she could feel the magnetism and raw sex appeal emanating from him. Was that what had led her to his bed?
He made no move towards her, though. His straight, poker-worthy face betrayed no emotion. No recognition. No joy at seeing her. Could she be persona non grata to him? Or was he one of those bastards who forgot a woman once he ditched her?
She’d know when she talked to him. She’d journeyed this far; she couldn’t and wouldn’t back out, come what may.
When she reached the front of the table, their gazes locked, holding for long moments. She lost herself in the brilliance of the aqua hues that seemed more intense in the dark surroundings.
This is bad . She had trouble tearing herself from the hypnotic depths.
He chose that moment to lift the beer bottle in his hand and take a small swallow, yet never broke eye contact.
He would play it the hard way. She had no choice but to align herself in the game, too.
Cocking her head, she indicated the free seat across from him. “May I?”
His eyes narrowed before he nodded.
She slid onto the banquette and placed her handbag next to her. Don’t beat around the bush .
Looking up into his face, she took a deep breath. “You and I were lovers.”
*
Thank goodness he’d already swallowed or he’d have choked.
Rashid’s smile disappeared. “You think this could be connected to the gang?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. The announcement on TV was premature. The Préfet wanted to reap the positive returns of such news on the population, paying no heed to the fact that we’ve uncovered only the tip of this iceberg.” He took another swig. “Damn if everything doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass when we least expect it.”
Uproar gripped the café, the men rising as one when their local team, l’Olympique de Marseille , scored a goal over its archrival, the Paris Saint Germain , on the big screen above the bar.
Rashid tapped his arm when the crowd returned to their seats and the view to the front door cleared. “That’s her there.”
Gerard sucked in a breath when his gaze landed on her. A beauty, all right. The flowing dark pants and long red coat made her look tall, but her frame would be small underneath the clothes, and she wouldn’t top out much above five feet. Her short hair had been brushed back, baring the perfection of her profile to the roving perusal of every male in the room.
He shook himself after a few seconds. He knew not what she was doing here and what she wanted from him, so he’d better stay on his guard.
She stood in the middle of the bar, stance erect and focused. The bartender, Sami, called out, asking if he could help. She shook her head before slowly scoping out the room.
Rashid was right—too much purpose in her. Bad sign.
“What will you do?” his friend asked.
Gerard fixed his focus on her. “She’d be stupid to try anything in such a crowded place. Let her come.” He paused. “You know the drill?”
“Sure do.” Rashid left the booth as quietly as he had come.
She hadn’t spotted him yet, if she even knew what he looked like. He had no doubt she did, though. One always knew the target when on a mission. She confirmed his suspicions a few seconds later, when she turned towards the inside of the room and saw him at the booth.
*
He is here. She breathed out a sigh of relief.
At the back of the bistro, he sat alone at a table. Shadows hovered around him but couldn’t conceal his face. Even in the dark interior, she could make out the hard, chiselled lines of his features and could imagine the flash of his sea-blue eyes in the dimness. His clothes, especially the denim jacket, gave the illusion of a casual stance, but the calm composure would be deceptive, a façade for inherent danger and ruthlessness.
Steeling herself with a deep, fortifying breath, she started in his direction. Halfway there, his keen stare on her made her squirm. The closer she got, the more she could feel the magnetism and raw sex appeal emanating from him. Was that what had led her to his bed?
He made no move towards her, though. His straight, poker-worthy face betrayed no emotion. No recognition. No joy at seeing her. Could she be persona non grata to him? Or was he one of those bastards who forgot a woman once he ditched her?
She’d know when she talked to him. She’d journeyed this far; she couldn’t and wouldn’t back out, come what may.
When she reached the front of the table, their gazes locked, holding for long moments. She lost herself in the brilliance of the aqua hues that seemed more intense in the dark surroundings.
This is bad . She had trouble tearing herself from the hypnotic depths.
He chose that moment to lift the beer bottle in his hand and take a small swallow, yet never broke eye contact.
He would play it the hard way. She had no choice but to align herself in the game, too.
Cocking her head, she indicated the free seat across from him. “May I?”
His eyes narrowed before he nodded.
She slid onto the banquette and placed her handbag next to her. Don’t beat around the bush .
Looking up into his face, she took a deep breath. “You and I were lovers.”
*
Thank goodness he’d already swallowed or he’d have choked.
Similar Books
