throat was beating triple time. “Now I’m beginning to understand why you’ve been chasing Shriver for all these years but haven’t caught him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” David glared. She’d gone straight for the jugular. The woman knew how to slice a man deep.
Maddie shoved her face closer to his. He tried not to stare at her luscious lips and failed miserably. She was so incredibly sexy when she was steamed. It was all he could do not to kiss her.
“It means, Hot Shot, that if you would think things through and act more cautiously you might not waste so much time running up blind alleys.”
“Not everyone needs to be as plodding and methodical as you,” he retorted.
“This half-cocked loose cannon shtick is going to come back and bite you in the ass.”
“This isn’t the wrong move,” he insisted stubbornly.
But even as he clung to his position, David knew if he made the wrong choice by traveling to Paris, not only was his FBI career in jeopardy, but his mistake could cost Cassie her life.
David Marshall was the most infuriating, arrogant man she’d ever met in her life and the fact that she was inordinately attracted to him only made things worse.
What was wrong with her? Why did she find his high-handed masculinity so exciting? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about the irritating man and what had happened in the coconut grove? Why couldn’t she stop wishing she’d been more awake for their kiss?
She’d given in to him. Not because she thought he was right about Paris, but because Cassie would need her protection if it turned out he was correct. She was the only thing standing between her twin and the hardheaded FBI agent determined to see her behind bars.
They chartered a plane from Grand Cayman to Miami and caught the next available flight to Paris at two A.M. Maddie took her assigned seat next to the window. She did her best to ignore David, but denying him was akin to denying the sun in the desert. Physically, he was so present. Big and prominent and . . . there.
Two little girls in matching dresses moved down the aisle of the airplane. The oldest one was eight or nine, the youngest barely six. They were carrying matching tote bags and the oldest one was holding the youngest one’s hand. They took the two seats in front of Maddie and David.
Watching them caused Maddie’s chest to knot up. How many times had she and Cassie boarded a similar plane, shuttling from their mother and stepfather’s home in Belize or Panama or South Africa bound for their father’s home in San Antonio? She knew exactly how the oldest one felt.
Responsible.
The flight attendant helped the girls get situated, but she’d no more than walked away when the youngest one undid her seat belt, turned around and peered at David over the back of her seat.
“Hi.” The girl grinned at him. Six years old and already an incorrigible flirt.
“Hi, yourself.” He grinned back. His smile was so genuine, Maddie forgot she was mad at him.
“I’m Katy.”
David winked at her and she giggled coyly. “Nice to meet you, Katy. I’m David and this is Maddie.”
“Sit back down,” her older sister hissed. “And leave those people alone.”
“That’s Rebecca,” Katy said with a dismissive flip of her hand. “She’s my sister. She’s bor-r-ring.”
Maddie felt a special kinship with Rebecca. She knew what the girl went through trying to corral her ebullient sibling.
“You know what Mom said about talking to strangers.” Rebecca tugged on her sister’s sleeve. “Turn around.”
“They’re not strange, Becca.”
“We don’t know them, that makes them strangers.” Rebecca was trying to keep her voice low, but her perky sister was having none of the subterfuge.
“We don’t know the airplane lady either and you talked to her.”
“She works for the airline. It’s okay if you talk to her.”
“But they’re very nice, Becca,” Katy coaxed. “Look at ’em.”
Rebecca peeked around
“What’s that supposed to mean?” David glared. She’d gone straight for the jugular. The woman knew how to slice a man deep.
Maddie shoved her face closer to his. He tried not to stare at her luscious lips and failed miserably. She was so incredibly sexy when she was steamed. It was all he could do not to kiss her.
“It means, Hot Shot, that if you would think things through and act more cautiously you might not waste so much time running up blind alleys.”
“Not everyone needs to be as plodding and methodical as you,” he retorted.
“This half-cocked loose cannon shtick is going to come back and bite you in the ass.”
“This isn’t the wrong move,” he insisted stubbornly.
But even as he clung to his position, David knew if he made the wrong choice by traveling to Paris, not only was his FBI career in jeopardy, but his mistake could cost Cassie her life.
David Marshall was the most infuriating, arrogant man she’d ever met in her life and the fact that she was inordinately attracted to him only made things worse.
What was wrong with her? Why did she find his high-handed masculinity so exciting? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about the irritating man and what had happened in the coconut grove? Why couldn’t she stop wishing she’d been more awake for their kiss?
She’d given in to him. Not because she thought he was right about Paris, but because Cassie would need her protection if it turned out he was correct. She was the only thing standing between her twin and the hardheaded FBI agent determined to see her behind bars.
They chartered a plane from Grand Cayman to Miami and caught the next available flight to Paris at two A.M. Maddie took her assigned seat next to the window. She did her best to ignore David, but denying him was akin to denying the sun in the desert. Physically, he was so present. Big and prominent and . . . there.
Two little girls in matching dresses moved down the aisle of the airplane. The oldest one was eight or nine, the youngest barely six. They were carrying matching tote bags and the oldest one was holding the youngest one’s hand. They took the two seats in front of Maddie and David.
Watching them caused Maddie’s chest to knot up. How many times had she and Cassie boarded a similar plane, shuttling from their mother and stepfather’s home in Belize or Panama or South Africa bound for their father’s home in San Antonio? She knew exactly how the oldest one felt.
Responsible.
The flight attendant helped the girls get situated, but she’d no more than walked away when the youngest one undid her seat belt, turned around and peered at David over the back of her seat.
“Hi.” The girl grinned at him. Six years old and already an incorrigible flirt.
“Hi, yourself.” He grinned back. His smile was so genuine, Maddie forgot she was mad at him.
“I’m Katy.”
David winked at her and she giggled coyly. “Nice to meet you, Katy. I’m David and this is Maddie.”
“Sit back down,” her older sister hissed. “And leave those people alone.”
“That’s Rebecca,” Katy said with a dismissive flip of her hand. “She’s my sister. She’s bor-r-ring.”
Maddie felt a special kinship with Rebecca. She knew what the girl went through trying to corral her ebullient sibling.
“You know what Mom said about talking to strangers.” Rebecca tugged on her sister’s sleeve. “Turn around.”
“They’re not strange, Becca.”
“We don’t know them, that makes them strangers.” Rebecca was trying to keep her voice low, but her perky sister was having none of the subterfuge.
“We don’t know the airplane lady either and you talked to her.”
“She works for the airline. It’s okay if you talk to her.”
“But they’re very nice, Becca,” Katy coaxed. “Look at ’em.”
Rebecca peeked around
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