by Michele Hauf
He nodded. He'd known Seph had been following him, for Kierce had tracked her all the way. If she knew what was best for her, she'd turn and walk the other way. He was in too deep to pull her out now. He prayed she got smart. And fast.
Dixon gestured he exit the back of the car. He'd said all that was necessary. A team would be placed nearby to take Lincoln Blackwell in hand. He wasn't sure what was planned for the Turk, but he'd leave it to the ECU.
Now it was Xavier's play.
Tucking the beribboned diamond necklace, missing one stone, into his suit pocket, he strolled the sidewalk hugging the river, gliding his fingers over the stone balustrade. At the end of the stone, he turned a sharp right and skipped down the stairs to the cobblestone walk fronting the cool waters. The moon was at half crest and it was late, so the tourist-stuffed bateaux-mouches no longer traced the waters. A dark barge was moored a hundred yards ahead. Scents of gasoline and stale water filled the night.
It was difficult not to look around, hoping to spy Seph. She wouldn't come close. If she stepped into the fray, she risked fucking up the whole mission. On the other hand, Blackwell would expect her presence because he intended to take her into hand. Xavier hoped she stayed away.
And yet he wasn't sure how he'd react to the woman who had turned his life upside down and fucked it up forever.
He checked his cell phone. Sixteen minutes to the final count.
This would be the most torture he had endured. Ever.
Chapter 28
He must know she followed him. Even though The Fox did not give out any clues— he hadn’t once looked over his shoulder as he strode alongside the river and began down the stairs that paralleled the river Seine— but it was in the way he carried his head.
From all the times she'd followed him, she knew that he saw everything, but not with his eyes. His senses were attuned, just as they should be when he crouched alone in a room before an uncrackable safe, or when he hung suspended from a cable while he sought a valuable jewel without setting off the infrared sensors. He could smell the changes in the air. Touch the heat or cold. His body was truly of the universe and that universe suspected Josephine was near.
She didn't try to distract him, staying as hidden as possible. He must have the necklace. A fake?
The ECU must have set a trap for Blackwell. Josephine wanted to be there to see it go down. She deserved that much.
As did Xavier. She noticed the hitch in his step. His left leg was injured; perhaps the bone fractured by Lincoln's thug. Not enough to keep him from walking, but more than enough to be painful. He was a class act.
Pity someone had taken him off the streets and turned him into a performing monkey.
Sighing, Josephine shook her head. It wasn't her fault. And she wouldn’t be blamed for it. Yes, she had tipped off the police, but what had happened after his arrest had nothing to do with her. He was a big boy. The man had life in his grasp and knew how to survive.
If she could take back that call to the police station to report The Fox was going to steal the Marie Antoinette diamond, she would. Now. But then? She'd been tainted with the blind and ridiculous need for revenge. She'd gotten it. And it had boomeranged to knock her off her feet. She'd never thought to see the man again after that night she had kissed him adieu. Never even hoped to work alongside him. And to have his trust.
Or to make love with him.
“You've been a fool, Seph,” she whispered, loving the nickname he had given her. Would she have a chance to hear him call her that again?
A limo pulled up to the curb before the river. Lincoln Blackwell got out, along with one of the thugs Josephine recognized. Surprisingly, he gestured the bodyguard remain by the car, then walked alone down the stairs to the riverside. The bodyguard leaned over the stone balustrade to watch.
It was a stupid move on Lincoln's part. But then again, Xavier was also alone. In theory. He had a voice in his ear and likely a whole cavalry waiting to take Lincoln in hand when the moment was right.
And when would that right moment occur? Lincoln wanted the whole necklace, but he’d also want to keep the single stone if it had a payment code on it. Or would he attempt to trade it? No. The five-carat stone was his cash cow. He might, however, tease it as a trade. Because Xavier wouldn't hand over the necklace without asking for something in return.
And what about her? Had Lincoln given up on his plans to include her in his dastardly dealings? Unlikely. Which is why she kept a three-sixty degree scan of her surroundings.
Xavier had said something about arranging for the Turk to show up. Where was the terrorist who had been hired to take out an entire neighborhood? How had they gotten him on their side? Had they?
So many unknown factors. Yet she felt that “screaming no” rise in her throat, and the thrill of the game made her smile.
Slinking up to the top of the stairs and squatting on the top step, Josephine hid herself in the night shadows that shrouded the inner half of the stairway. From this angle, she couldn't see the bodyguard, which meant he couldn't see her either. Xavier's gaze swept the staircase, but he didn't pick her out. Or he didn't indicate that he had, as Lincoln left the bottom stair and walked up to him.
In the river, a barge wobbled. There was someone on it. Many people lived on barges along the Seine. But if someone were walking around at night, wouldn't they turn on a light?
Creeping down a few steps, Josephine kept one eye on the barge, which was out of Xavier's range of view.
* * * *
Victor Katirci was supposed to be positioned nearby. Xavier hadn't seen any suspicious figures—beyond the henchman who leaned over the balustrade keeping watch over his boss—and the guy he'd tortured a few hours ago.
The adrenaline racing through his body reduced the pain in his thigh to a minimal throb, yet Xavier felt sure the crack in his heart would kill him.
He'd let himself get involved…and fall in love.
“Fool,” he muttered to himself as Lincoln approached.
“Who's the fool?” Kierce asked.
He wouldn't answer. He didn't want to tip off Blackwell. What he really wanted to do was punch the asshole to the next country for hurting Seph. But he'd curb that anger.
Dressed in black and looking more villainous now that Xavier associated him with the rusty machete, Lincoln Blackwell stopped ten feet away from him.
“Where is Jo-Jo?”
“Jo-Jo?”
“Your current fuck,” Blackwell said. “She's part of this deal.” He tugged something out of his pocket.
Xavier glanced above, scanning the stone balustrade. Where was the backup that Dixon had promised? He couldn't hand over the necklace until he knew all players were in position.
“I got your back, Lambert,” Kierce said. “Katirci is close. And we've got a team waiting to take Blackwell once he receives the necklace. But there's something weird on your GPS…”
Great. Leave him hanging with that ominous statement?
Something glinted in Blackwell's hand. The missing diamond. On which, the girdle sported a code to pay the terrorist who decimated Paris five million dollars.
“No diamond until I get both the necklace and Jo-Jo,” Lincoln said.
“You try to get around the work and just go for the payday?” Xavier asked.
“Always take the easiest option. Remember that,” Blackwell said. He made show of looking over Xavier's shoulder. “So where is she? I've tracked her here.”
“I thought I made it clear she means nothing to me.” He wasn't going to lie. But the man didn't need to know that Xavier had no clue what the hell Josephine was up to either.
And then he noticed the shadow glide closer on the stairs. Why had she come down here? He didn't need her…
Maybe.
“I believed you right until you fucked her.”
Xavier smirked. He'd hoped that act would stab the man right in the balls. Suck it, Blackwell.
&n
bsp; “You got the necklace?” Blackwell asked.
Xavier pulled out the necklace and dangled it between them. Perhaps it would be enough to keep him from demanding Josephine. Xavier scanned the cobblestone sidewalk and up the wall to the henchman, who now wielded a pistol in plain view. No tourists, thankfully. But no backup that he could see. Of course, he shouldn't be able to sight them with ease, or their cover would be blown.
“That is mine!”
Xavier's shoulders tightened, and it took all his courage not to turn around to see who had shouted in a gruff accent. Had to be Turkish. Please, let it be Turkish and not some random homeless person. He had to keep an eye on Blackwell. And Josephine—ah hell. She rushed up behind Blackwell, stopping four feet from him. Blackwell didn’t notice.
“Boss!” the bodyguard shouted.
Shit. Xavier couldn't control four people who each had their own agenda.
But he did know who had to walk away with the evidence.
Xavier held up the necklace and swung it so the moonlight reflected off the stones.
Kierce crackled in his ear. “Code Emergency, Lambert. It's a missile.”
What? He touched his ear, pretending to rub it. From behind, a gun barrel stabbed into his shoulder blade.
“A missile is tracking the diamond—the single stone. It's going to make contact in two minutes!”
To swear would only waste precious time.
Xavier tossed the necklace to Blackwell. The man lunged forward and caught it with a crooked finger. The man behind Xavier swore and moved the gun to point over Xavier's shoulder. Xavier put up his hands in surrender. He glanced up to the bodyguard at the railing. He'd moved, swinging around at the top of the stairs.
“This is real?” Blackwell asked.
“You've got less than a minute,” Kierce barked. “Blackwell, we need. Everyone else is expendable. Go!”
“Now, Seph!” Xavier shouted.
Josephine moved before Xavier got the words out. She hit the hand in which Blackwell clutched the single stone. His fingers let loose and the diamond flew, arcing twenty feet in the air. It flashed brilliantly at the apex, then fell in a sweet curve that brought it close…so close…
Xavier swept out his hand and caught the diamond.
Blackwell swore. The thug grabbed Josephine by her hair, but she managed a roundhouse kick that took him off guard and toppled him backward to land on the hard limestone steps.
“That is mine!” Victor Katirci dashed beside Xavier, gun in his right hand, left palm awaiting the diamond.
“Fifteen seconds, Lambert!”
“You bet it is.” Xavier slapped the diamond onto Katirci's outstretched hand. “Run, Seph!”
He saw movement, but couldn't be sure if it was Seph or Blackwell racing up the stairs. Someone swore revenge in a most villainous tone.
But Xavier's seconds were almost up. And Josephine was in the range of danger. He turned and threw his body against the hefty Turk, setting them both airborne.
The Seine splashed around them. The Turk's body briefly broke the surface, then he and Xavier disappeared together into the watery depths.
Chapter 29
Josephine rushed to the river's edge. Lincoln swore behind her. “What was that?”
Wind rushed over her head. Why? Something crashed into the water. The wake splashed in her face as the whole sidewalk shook. A sonic boom? The entire world seemed to shift. The Seine burped up a massive spray of river, then rippled out in high waves.
“Was that a missile?” Lincoln said from the bottom step. “Holy… I did not sign up for this.”
He kicked his bodyguard in the shin, then helped him up. They dashed up the stairs and into the night.
Josephine clung to the edge of the wet stones, searching the dark waters that rippled madly with moonlight with the aftershocks of what must have been some kind of bomb. Had it been a missile?
No, it couldn't be. “X?”
Had he known what was headed their way when he'd shouted for her to move? She'd instinctually known what he'd needed her to do, and in that moment, had congratulated herself for being stubborn and following him to the drop-off site. But now…
The waves receded and the wake grew more distant. The water's surface calmed. He'd been under for a long time.
Leaning forward, desperate to spy her lover—the man she respected and had learned from over the years—she almost toppled forward and caught herself just before she hit the river. She didn't know how to swim. But she had to. Someone had to locate his body.
His body?
“No!” she shouted. “This is not how it ends. X, please.” The last word came out as a sobbing whimper.
She stretched her arm, hand sinking into the cool waters. Tears fell on her wrist, splashing the cat tattoos. She'd failed not only Xavier, but herself.
“I’m sorry.”
The man hadn't deserved this kind of ending. He was too good. And so what if good was all in the perspective. He'd chosen his path and had walked away from a family fortune, only to put so many millions back into the world through charity. Others could argue he could have done the same through a legal, legitimate business like tailoring, but Josephine knew that some people were simply cut from a different cloth. The life of a criminal had been Xavier's only option. Because he'd had no other training… What had he told her about that sport when she'd been trying to get information out of him? He'd once been…a competition swimmer.
“Yes! Oh, yes, come on!” She slapped the water's surface. “You've got this. You can't go down this way, X.”
A gush of water roiled toward her and Josephine looked up. A body floated closer. Face up and arms extended, the body…kicked.
“X!”
A few more kicks, and he was close enough for her to reach out, grab his collar, and pull him to the stone ledge. Xavier clung to the edge and slapped an arm across the sidewalk. He spat up the river and shook his head, spattering her with more water. With one tremendous guttural heave, he landed on the sidewalk and sprawled, eyes closed and spitting out more water.
“You're alive,” she said tearfully. “What the hell was that?”
“Missile,” he managed.
She touched his face; swept the hair from his forehead. Bruises darkened his skin and his shirt hung in shreds.
“Hit…Katirci,” he said. “Blasted him out of my arms. Detonated… one second later. Seph….”
“Yes? I’m here. I'm so sorry for what I said to you. But you had to know.”
He opened his eyes to look into hers. “Truth?”
He wasn't asking if she was truthful about being sorry, but rather if she was really the one who had had him arrested.
She nodded.
He closed his eyes. Coughed. Groaned. “Blackwell?”
“He took off.”
“ECU…waiting. Lost…Kierce.”
She checked his ear, but didn't see the earbud.
“Let me call you an ambulance,” she said. “You've been through so much.”
“ECU…will handle. Seph…”
She leaned over him, wishing to lie on his shoulder but not wanting to cause him more pain. “Yes?”
“I…” He coughed, and more water sluiced from his mouth. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I had fallen in love with you.”
Had fallen in love with her? Meaning he didn't love her anymore?
Well, of course not. She'd confessed to him. How could a man possibly love someone who could do such a terrible thing to him?
“Need…time,” he managed. “You…go.”
Her breath left her lungs in a huff. She bowed her head to his shoulder and sniffed back the tears that threatened to become a wail. But she wouldn't. She couldn't.
“ECU…wants you. Go!” he managed, and then coughed repeatedly, his body pulsing on the ground.
She kissed his mouth, tasted the river and her own regret, then nodded. “I love you, too
. Sorry. We did this all wrong.”
And she stood. Feeling the pull of freedom drawing her away from her lover's prone body, she struggled not to turn and walk away from him. But he was right. The ECU wanted her, and they were likely in the area.
Instead of heading up the stairs, Josephine rushed forward, past the docked barge and to the next bridge, where she took the stairs up to the street. Nothing. No headlights from passing cars, no muffled laughter from lovebirds in the nearby park.
Heartbeat thundering, she had nowhere to go.
Chapter 30
Xavier woke in the dark, on the most uncomfortable bed he'd ever slept in. Something crackled beneath him. Plastic. There was a plastic sheet under his body. He moved his arm and something tugged sharply inside his elbow crease. Looking at the dull gray walls and gold plaid draperies surrounding him, he realized he was in the hospital.
He was too exhausted to feel anything more than mild annoyance. The ECU actually allowed their asset to be hospitalized? Under what name? Or had they cut him loose, and his next trip was back to prison? He didn't wear cuffs. Though there could be a guard posted outside the door.
But he'd accomplished the mission. He had stopped the biological weapon from being created, and the payment stone was at the bottom of the Seine, along with an expended missile and the Turk's bones. The ECU would clean up that mess with little difficulty.
And Lincoln Blackwell must be in hand, either by the Paris police or Interpol.
Sitting up, he rubbed his brow. The worn blue hospital gown went to his knees. To the left, folded on a chair, were his pants, but no shirt.
Then he remembered his dive into the Seine and finally managing to surface. The explosion had pushed his body away from Katirci and probably shredded his shirt in the process. And he'd pulled himself up out of the water to land…
Beneath her tearful gaze. She'd been waiting for him like some kind of angel come to bless his not-quite-dead soul. Seph. He'd told her he loved her. But that had been before she'd confessed she was the reason for his arrest.
