Read Online Walking The Edge: A Romantic Suspense/Espionage Thriller (Corpus Brides Trilogy Book 1) by Zee Monodee - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Zee Monodee
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Lovers. Right. He didn’t know her from Eve.
She remained silent when he didn’t respond, her face betraying no emotion. Strange. He’d expected some reaction. Lures usually jumped into the deep end of the seduction pool when unleashed on a target. The one across from him came across as way too cool.
Proceed with caution , his gut told him. He wouldn’t play into her game but he also would take whatever information she gave him. She’d spoken in English, and he replied in kind. “Is that so?”
A small frown touched her forehead, but she didn’t so much as blink. Good act—she knew what she was doing.
“How can I convince you?” she finally asked.
Direct, if anything, and confirming what he already suspected. She’d been sent to seduce him, and with her methods, she didn’t beat around the bush. No qualms and no pretences. All the more dangerous.
He leaned forward, placing the bottle between them. With his face close to her, he let his gaze roam from her lush mouth to her clear blue eyes. “You can’t.”
Her gaze narrowed and blazed into his. He’d contradicted her plans. Perfect. Looked like she hadn’t thought it possible he’d refuse her offer. He chuckled but smothered the sound. He’d been known to chase skirt in the past, but if the criminals he was after thought knickers still lured him as easily as one could lead a rookie—a bleu —astray, they were in for another think. Dangling a pretty thing in front of him wouldn’t make him a bumbling idiot, but would in fact achieve the opposite. He’d grow even more suspicious.
He stood and moved away from the table. In his peripheral vision, he saw her turn in his direction. He dove into the crush of the crowd in front of the bar, knowing she would lose sight of him.
Once through the door, he moved to the dark alley alongside the bistro. The place looked like a lair for petty criminals of all sort, but only an idiot would attempt to ply his illegal trade there, the eatery being the favourite meeting place for most of the cops who worked in the Vieux Port area.
Rashid waited for him, immersed in the shadows. “I was about to call you.”
“No need,” Gerard replied. “I managed to walk out without the need for an excuse.”
His friend nodded. “What did she want?”
“Honey trap.”
Rashid swore. “Sent by who?”
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”
“You need me?”
“No. I can manage.”
Gerard slid into the darkness while his right-hand man melted away. Watching the dimly lit cobblestone pavement in front of the bistro, he waited. She’d have to come out this way.
He didn’t have long to kill. She walked out and stopped at the mouth of the alley, her head turning left and right, probably searching for him.
Biding his time, he snuck in a breath when she took a step back, closer to the dark alleyway. Then, with a lunge, he swept her into his arms and pulled her back, braced against his chest. With one arm, he restrained her torso while he brought the palm of his other hand against her opened mouth.
Instead of kicking and screaming, she went still. That should have alerted him something was off, but he didn’t listen to his gut feeling, intent on getting answers out of her.
“Who sent you?” he growled in her ear, but he had no time to say more, because a sharp jab tore into the sensitive flesh under his arm.
*
His hold softened a little. Without pausing to think, she listened only to the instinct that had first told her to freeze and then to attack, the same one that had taken over in the mall the day before. Lifting her leg, she kicked her boot heel into his shin with as much momentum as she could swing. He took a step back, carrying her along, and she released the hold of her fingers near his armpit, then jammed her elbow into his ribs.
His body lurched back, and he released her. She sprang forward and spun around to face him, but he proved quick, too. He lunged at her. The weight and brute masculine
She remained silent when he didn’t respond, her face betraying no emotion. Strange. He’d expected some reaction. Lures usually jumped into the deep end of the seduction pool when unleashed on a target. The one across from him came across as way too cool.
Proceed with caution , his gut told him. He wouldn’t play into her game but he also would take whatever information she gave him. She’d spoken in English, and he replied in kind. “Is that so?”
A small frown touched her forehead, but she didn’t so much as blink. Good act—she knew what she was doing.
“How can I convince you?” she finally asked.
Direct, if anything, and confirming what he already suspected. She’d been sent to seduce him, and with her methods, she didn’t beat around the bush. No qualms and no pretences. All the more dangerous.
He leaned forward, placing the bottle between them. With his face close to her, he let his gaze roam from her lush mouth to her clear blue eyes. “You can’t.”
Her gaze narrowed and blazed into his. He’d contradicted her plans. Perfect. Looked like she hadn’t thought it possible he’d refuse her offer. He chuckled but smothered the sound. He’d been known to chase skirt in the past, but if the criminals he was after thought knickers still lured him as easily as one could lead a rookie—a bleu —astray, they were in for another think. Dangling a pretty thing in front of him wouldn’t make him a bumbling idiot, but would in fact achieve the opposite. He’d grow even more suspicious.
He stood and moved away from the table. In his peripheral vision, he saw her turn in his direction. He dove into the crush of the crowd in front of the bar, knowing she would lose sight of him.
Once through the door, he moved to the dark alley alongside the bistro. The place looked like a lair for petty criminals of all sort, but only an idiot would attempt to ply his illegal trade there, the eatery being the favourite meeting place for most of the cops who worked in the Vieux Port area.
Rashid waited for him, immersed in the shadows. “I was about to call you.”
“No need,” Gerard replied. “I managed to walk out without the need for an excuse.”
His friend nodded. “What did she want?”
“Honey trap.”
Rashid swore. “Sent by who?”
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”
“You need me?”
“No. I can manage.”
Gerard slid into the darkness while his right-hand man melted away. Watching the dimly lit cobblestone pavement in front of the bistro, he waited. She’d have to come out this way.
He didn’t have long to kill. She walked out and stopped at the mouth of the alley, her head turning left and right, probably searching for him.
Biding his time, he snuck in a breath when she took a step back, closer to the dark alleyway. Then, with a lunge, he swept her into his arms and pulled her back, braced against his chest. With one arm, he restrained her torso while he brought the palm of his other hand against her opened mouth.
Instead of kicking and screaming, she went still. That should have alerted him something was off, but he didn’t listen to his gut feeling, intent on getting answers out of her.
“Who sent you?” he growled in her ear, but he had no time to say more, because a sharp jab tore into the sensitive flesh under his arm.
*
His hold softened a little. Without pausing to think, she listened only to the instinct that had first told her to freeze and then to attack, the same one that had taken over in the mall the day before. Lifting her leg, she kicked her boot heel into his shin with as much momentum as she could swing. He took a step back, carrying her along, and she released the hold of her fingers near his armpit, then jammed her elbow into his ribs.
His body lurched back, and he released her. She sprang forward and spun around to face him, but he proved quick, too. He lunged at her. The weight and brute masculine
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