Hot Protector: A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 10

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Her breath hitched and her skin flushed a pretty pink. “Then I wish we were still there.”

  He leaned back against the chair and pulled her into the curve of his arm. He told himself it was because they were supposed to be on their honeymoon and they needed to look the part, but in truth he liked having her there.

  She sighed and settled in, her hand drifting up to twine with his where it hung over her shoulder.

  “Why do you think he’s here on this particular flight?” she whispered after a few minutes.

  Chase didn’t take his eyes off the man. His back was still turned and he still seemed oblivious to their presence. Chase’s instincts told him there was no way the dude knew Sophie was here.

  “I think he’s here because Androv figured out he needed to send someone to Paris. No sense calling him back to New York first.”

  “Do you think he’s figured out the address?”

  “Yeah. Even if he didn’t get it from the credit card information, he’ll have figured it out by investigating your background. You have a connection to Paris, and he’ll explore that first.”

  “If he has the tracking number, he’ll know when the package is delivered.”

  “True. Nothing we can do about it but get there first.”

  “I should have kept the flash drive. We could be analyzing it now.”

  “You did the best you knew how to do. And if he’d caught you, you’d be dead and he’d have his information back. So, no, you shouldn’t have kept it.”

  Chase took his personal cell phone that he’d replaced earlier from his pocket and sent a text to Hawk. “Stay here,” he told Sophie as he got up and sauntered over to the other side of the lounge. He picked up a bottle of water from a vendor, paid, and then turned and snapped a pic of the area with his phone. He snapped a couple of more pics as if he were a tourist taking photos of the airport and then sauntered back to Sophie’s side where he sent the photo of the man to Hawk.

  She’d taken a magazine from the bag and was currently flipping through it. He saw clothes, purses, and makeup, and zoned out. Whatever.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She glanced up at him. “Mostly. I just wish we were on our way already.”

  “Me too.”

  Because he didn’t like waiting for the go order. He liked it when they were busting balls to get to the drop zone, when everything was critical and actions mattered. He liked the rush of exploding onto a scene with his team and taking care of business.

  The only team he had on this one was Sophie, however, and the mission was not to explode onto the scene so much as to tiptoe in and out again like thieves in the night.

  For Sophie’s sake, he hoped that’s exactly how it went down. In, out, and back to DC with the kind of valuable information that meant they could put Grigori Androv behind bars for a long time. Only then would Sophie be safe.

  18

  They arrived in Paris early in the morning. Sophie was bleary-eyed as they got off the plane. They’d been in economy class and Grigori’s man had been in first. He’d walked right past her when he’d presumably been stretching his legs. His gaze had slipped over to her, but the recognition she’d feared she might see wasn’t there. She’d kept her expression carefully blank, and he’d walked down the aisle and then up the other side while her heart hammered the whole time.

  But what could he do on a plane? Not much, though she feared that someone would be waiting for her and Chase as they exited the airport. Even if they were, Chase had that covered, it seemed. He took her hand and tugged her through the terminal. They did not go to baggage claim, instead exiting in a different area and heading for the parking lot.

  Of course Hawk had a car for them, an Audi turbo that was sleek and dark and promised to be fast. Chase slung their bags in the backseat and retrieved another bag from the trunk. Sophie tried not to gasp when he opened it to reveal an arsenal of guns, but she couldn’t quite stop herself.

  Chase looked up at her as he grabbed a pistol, checked it, and tucked it into the side pocket of the door. He zipped the bag and tossed it in the back with the rest of their stuff.

  “I didn’t think guns were easy to get here.”

  “They are when you know where to go. Hawk has connections.”

  Sophie belted herself in and tried not to let everything feel so surreal. She was in France with her smoking-hot stepbrother, and danger was on her heels. It was so far removed from her life thus far that she sometimes thought she must be dreaming.

  But then Chase growled at her or kissed her or just took her hand and held it like they really were Nathan and Beth Chandler, honeymooners, and every cell in her body went on red alert.

  No, she definitely wasn’t dreaming.

  He started the car and zipped through the parking lot. Soon they were on their way, speeding out of Paris’s Charles de Gaulle Airport and toward the city. Sophie turned to look behind them, but the traffic was so heavy she’d never know if anyone was following or not.

  “His name is Sergei Turov,” Chase said matter-of-factly, and Sophie’s head swung around. She knew he’d sent a picture to Hawk—and apparently he’d gotten an answer. “Not a nice guy, but then none of Androv’s associates are known to be nice. Turov’s specialty seems to be human trafficking.”

  Sophie’s heart froze. “Human trafficking?”

  Chase glanced at her, his hands tightening on the wheel. “He buys and sells women, Sophie. Poor women from Russia and China who believe they’re going to a better life in the US. They end up in the sex trade mostly.”

  Sophie put her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. But Grigori isn’t part of that, right?”

  He didn’t say anything, and the horror spread within her heart. My God.

  “I had no idea,” she whispered. “Really.”

  She’d trusted Grigori. If she’d been someone else, someone poor and alone and unfortunate… God, it didn’t bear thinking about. How could he? How could anyone?

  She shuddered, tears pricking her eyes, and Chase reached over to squeeze her hand. “It’s not the kind of thing he’d mention, I’m sure. And he’s hidden his tracks well, because this is the first Hawk or I have heard of it. Not to say that it wasn’t known higher up the chain, but it’s apparently not common knowledge.”

  Fury clogged her throat at the sheer evilness of what Chase was saying. “How could I not have known what a vile man Grigori is? How could I have ever thought he was decent?”

  “Because he presented himself that way. It’s not your fault.”

  “And yet there’s the maid.” She’d heard the story and dismissed it when Grigori told her it was a lie. Because he was rich and the maid was poor, and it made sense that she’d want to sue him and possibly gain more money than she ever would as a maid.

  “He gave you good reason to think it was a setup from someone wanting money.”

  Sophie snorted as she looked over at him. Traffic whizzed past, but she barely registered it. “You’re defending me now? I thought you believed I was an idiot for getting involved with Grigori in the first place.”

  “I did think that… but that’s before I spent time with you. You’ve got a good heart, Sophie. You aren’t judgmental and you’re trusting. Those are admirable traits.”

  She would have laughed if the subject weren’t so serious. “I may just fall out on the floor from all this praise. And then I want to know where Chase is, because I don’t know this alien who stole his body.”

  “No aliens. I just realized you were easily duped.”

  “And there he is after all—stupid is what you meant to say. You called me that when I was in your apartment.”

  He sighed. “There’s a difference between being willfully stupid and being manipulated by a master liar. I could wish you’d been more suspicious, but you weren’t. Now we deal with the aftermath.”

  Sophie yawned and shook her head. Maybe he was tired too and that’s what was causing all this niceness. “I just want to go to sleep
for a few hours.”

  “Usually I’d say that was a bad idea, but since we aren’t really tourists and we’re only staying as long as it takes to get that file, I don’t think it matters whether or not your body acclimates to Paris time.”

  Sophie closed her eyes as they sped along the autoroute. And then she opened them again and speared him with a look. “You’re trying to get rid of me. You intend to stash me away, let me sleep, and go looking for the package.” She yawned so hard her jaw cracked. “No way, no how, buddy.”

  “You aren’t going with me to Tyler’s apartment. You’re staying in the rental until I return. Besides, it’s not due to be delivered for another day. I’ll go tomorrow—and you’ll stay put while I do.”

  “You won’t be able to get into the building.”

  “Do you honestly believe that after the past few days? I have the address. I have a lockpick. I know how this is done.”

  Panic blossomed in her belly at the idea. “Grigori’s men will be watching.”

  “Which is why you aren’t going.”

  Sophie bit her lip. “Madame Renard collects any mail that comes for Tyler. The postman delivers it to her box when he’s not in residence. You need me to go with you. She won’t give it to you.”

  Chase gripped the wheel harder and swore. “You could have told me that a couple of days ago, Sophie. What was the point in hiding that information?”

  He was furious, and rightly so. But she hadn’t told him originally because she thought he might not think the situation so dire. That he might not help her. If all she needed to do was call Madame Renard and ask her to forward the package, why go to Paris at all?

  And yet the longer the package was out there, the more fearful she became. She didn’t need to wait days for it to arrive—she needed it now. She needed to know if there was anything on that flash drive that could stop Grigori from hurting anyone else. From hurting her.

  “I thought you wouldn’t help me.”

  He took an exit and they found themselves in bumper-to-bumper traffic. He turned to her, his brows two slashes on his handsome face.

  “From the moment those assholes set my apartment on fire, I was on your side, Sophie.”

  Shame crawled around in her belly. “I didn’t know that. I thought you’d dump me at the first opportunity. You were so angry…”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. His eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep, but that didn’t make him any less sexy.

  “I was angry. I am angry. But I wouldn’t leave you to face this alone. That’s not who I am.”

  “I know that now.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner that this Madame Renard gets the mail?”

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “I don’t know. Everything has been so stressful and unpredictable—and I guess I thought you might find a way to leave me behind if you knew.”

  “You just said she would only give the mail to you.”

  “Yes, but given enough time, you’d have charmed her. Or you could have gotten Tyler to call her or something.”

  “Fuck me, Sophie,” he said—and her core reacted in ways that sent a delicious tingle through her. What was it about the way he said those words? “I can’t follow your logic half the time.”

  “I also thought you might want me to call and have her forward the mail.”

  He shook his head. “Definitely not. The sooner we get the fucking thing, the better. She’s in danger too so long as this thing is out there.”

  Sophie’s chest ached suddenly. “But they can’t know she’s getting his mail. It goes to her apartment, not his—and I didn’t require a signature.”

  He shook his head. “They’ll figure it out. Maybe not right away, but when there’s no mail at all, they’re going to know it’s being redirected. And they’re going to find out who’s getting it, especially when the tracking number shows that the package was delivered.”

  Guilt speared her. “We can’t let that happen. Madame Renard is a sweet old woman. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  “I’m not going to let it happen, Sophie. But swear to fucking God, you had better not keep anything else from me. You got that?”

  It hurt to have him growl at her, but she understood why. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not keeping anything else from you, I promise.”

  “Good.”

  Traffic suddenly started moving and he pressed the gas, whipping between a couple of slower cars and accelerating to the next snarl and then the next. It took over an hour to reach the street in the seventh arrondissement where their rental property was, partly because of traffic and partly because Chase didn’t go directly to the rental. He took side roads, backtracked, and circled before finally sliding into a space around the corner from their building. The building was old in a charming way—but the elevator was out of service so they had to walk up four flights to the garret on the top floor.

  The property agent met them at the door. She was very French, elegant and refined, and so terribly excited they were on their honeymoon.

  “We have champagne for you, monsieur and madame,” she said, leading them into the tiny kitchen with a window from which they could see the top of the Eiffel Tower. But that wasn’t the best part. The best was a small balcony off one of the bedrooms with a view of the tower.

  “Merci,” Sophie said. “We are delighted, madame.”

  The property agent spent another twenty minutes showing them every conceivable thing about the apartment before she suggested they make dinner reservations at a bistro down the street. Or, she mentioned, she could do it for them.

  “Thank you,” Chase said, “but I’m not sure we’ll go anywhere tonight.” He put his arm around Sophie then and squeezed her to him. “It’s been a long night of travel, and I’m ready to be alone with my wife.”

  The woman smiled knowingly. “But of course. I will bid you adieu now.”

  And she disappeared with a wave and a smile, the door closing firmly behind her.

  Chase blew out a breath as he let Sophie go and walked over to the bag of guns and ammunition. She knew he’d slipped the other gun into his waistband beneath his jacket.

  “Do you really think you’re going to need those?”

  He was busy stacking ammo boxes and laying out weapons. “Never know. Best to be prepared.”

  She watched as he peeled off his jacket and his muscles bunched and rippled while he worked. It was mesmerizing in a way.

  He paused in his stacking and looked up at her. “You should get some sleep.”

  She hugged herself as she leaned back against the small dining room table. “And what will you be doing while I sleep?”

  “I won’t leave you alone if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She swallowed. “I kind of am, yes. You left me in the tree stand.”

  “That was different. This is a city and I don’t need to scout the perimeter. Besides, I told you what I was doing when I left.”

  Sophie rubbed a hand over her eyes tiredly. “Fine. Which bedroom do you want?”

  “The one nearest the door.”

  For some reason, that answer disappointed her. As if he’d been going to say Whichever one you’re in.

  She’d kind of hoped he would, especially after what he’d said about sinking into her if they were still in the safe house in Maryland. But clearly he was beyond that now. If he’d ever meant it in the first place.

  He confused her and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like herself much at the moment for caring what he meant either. She knew better than to put much stock in what people said, and yet she sometimes did.

  Sophie grabbed the carry-on suitcase that had her clothing and rolled it to the bedroom where she shut the door and stood weary and unhappy even though she had the room with the charming view. She wanted a shower, and yet she wanted sleep even more. She walked over to the bed, pulled the covers back, and took off her clothes before dropping onto the sheets in her bra and pa
nties.

  19

  Mendez loved the feel of Sam’s legs wrapped around his waist. She gripped him hard as he pumped into her body, her skin slick with sweat, her moans punctuating the air around them. Sex with Sam was still fucking hot, even after so much history between them.

  “Yes, Johnny—oh God, just like that,” she said as he lifted her ass higher and plunged into her harder and faster than before.

  And then she screamed as he found her G-spot, her body shaking apart in his arms as he thrust hard and deep before groaning his own release.

  He rolled off her and went to take care of the condom. When he came back, she was sitting up and looking very pleased with herself. Hell, he was pleased too—he didn’t much care if she seemed a bit smug.

  He reached for his uniform pants and started to tug them on again. Sam thrust out her lip. “Aw, leaving so soon, baby?”

  “Have to get back to the office. Shit going down.”

  “Shit is always going down,” she said, reaching for her electronic cigarette and taking a puff. She lay back against the pillows, her naked form lush and lovely.

  She looked decadent lying there with vapor curling above her head and her legs spread wide enough for him to see the slick pinkness he’d just been enjoying. She lifted a hand and slid it over one nipple. His cock started swelling again.

  “You’re a bad girl, Sam.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Maybe you’d like to spank me?”

  He tugged his T-shirt on and followed it with the camouflage shirt, buttoning it quickly before sitting down to lace up his boots. And, yeah, his cock was about to tent his pants.

  “I’d love to spank you—but it’ll have to be later.”

  When he stood again, she got to her knees and came over to the side of the bed where she put her palms on his chest and ran them up to his shoulders before hooking them around his neck. “You are so damn hot, Johnny. Still amazing in bed. And still so damned difficult to understand.”

  He kissed her, his hands cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples into stiff peaks. “What is this? I thought you wanted a fuck buddy, not a potential life partner.”

  She arched her back and thrust her breasts into his hands. “You have a way of messing with a woman’s head. And maybe I sometimes regret what could have been.”