was sharp as a tack, and he knew the industry. But was he being followed by his own people? And why?
“Well, Chas,” Susannah said, “We did a full sweep of your suite. We know you’re not bugged. So what the fuck are you talking about?”
He took a deep breath, then his words came out in a rush. “The woman you saw me with is an undercover operative. She had a tremendous connection to my father and has some inside information that could help me with something I’m working on. But I can’t tell you what, or I may put you in great danger.”
“Hmm. And why should I believe you, Chas?” She was truly intrigued now and wondered how much of it was true.
“Two reasons. One: I am giving you my family’s heirloom, literally the family tree that has been in the family for hundreds of years. And two . . .” His voice trailed off.
“Yes?” she asked, eager in spite of herself.
“I’ve never gotten close to a woman before. Not really. Not close enough to tell them this. But I want to tell you—that is, I’ve wanted to tell you this since the moment I met you.” He looked away and took another drink of champagne.
“What is it?”
He hesitated and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “The men I’m working for are slime. They are despicable people and are criminals of the worst order. I hate myself for getting involved with them in the first place and hate them for taking me down this road. I’ll help you nail them. It would be my privilege to do so. I can get you anything you want: locations, numbers, background information, where they hide the money, and where they dump the bodies. But there’s something I need to do first . . . and I need the time to do it. Can you honor my request, and I’ll honor you in turn?”
Susannah poured herself another glass of champagne and took a deep breath. She would say yes, and continue to tail him, because at this point, she didn’t know what to believe. She was quite conflicted about his actual feelings, and she didn’t want to be taken in by deception. Perhaps this was the best she could get out of him, a bunch of what were clearly half-truths. And what now? Now it was time to do what she had come here to do. Fuck his sincerity, his stories, and his goddamn family tree. Fuck her heart. Fuck his eyes. Fuck possibility. She would do what she was made for. She would take down her mark. She would pretend to give him space and take him for all he was worth. Besides which, if this was all there was ever going to be, she could enjoy the rest of the evening here, in this Parisian paradise, in his bed.
“Yes,” she said, looking deeply into his eyes and lying with every piece of her soul, “yes, I will honor you.”
‡‡‡
CHAS INHALED DEEPLY and looked into Susannah’s open and stormy eyes. He would have told her everything—was he crazy?—about his father, the men he hunted, Tyka’s information, Pierre’s role in the scheme. He was getting soft, he was falling too fast. It was the surest way to get her killed and compromise everything he’d ever worked for. Thankfully, he’d found his brain where he’d dropped it and had stopped himself before it was too late. He’d give her a taste, of course—a bit of truth, something to hold on to. And he’d meant what he’d said: as soon as he could kill the Italian he would, and Susannah and her company could take down the rest. He was happy to share in the winnings. All he’d wanted was revenge. But now he wanted something more: her safety.
“Well,” he said, “I’m happy you believe me. It was a difficult afternoon, and it seems that everyone had eyes on me. But now we have the evening, and it’s just you and I, and the world can’t touch us here. How would you like to enjoy the spa and let ourselves escape for a bit?”
He smiled as her eyes grew wide. “The spa?”
“The bathroom, I mean.” He chuckled. “There’s an overflow infinity bathtub with jets, and a chromotherapy system,
“Well, Chas,” Susannah said, “We did a full sweep of your suite. We know you’re not bugged. So what the fuck are you talking about?”
He took a deep breath, then his words came out in a rush. “The woman you saw me with is an undercover operative. She had a tremendous connection to my father and has some inside information that could help me with something I’m working on. But I can’t tell you what, or I may put you in great danger.”
“Hmm. And why should I believe you, Chas?” She was truly intrigued now and wondered how much of it was true.
“Two reasons. One: I am giving you my family’s heirloom, literally the family tree that has been in the family for hundreds of years. And two . . .” His voice trailed off.
“Yes?” she asked, eager in spite of herself.
“I’ve never gotten close to a woman before. Not really. Not close enough to tell them this. But I want to tell you—that is, I’ve wanted to tell you this since the moment I met you.” He looked away and took another drink of champagne.
“What is it?”
He hesitated and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “The men I’m working for are slime. They are despicable people and are criminals of the worst order. I hate myself for getting involved with them in the first place and hate them for taking me down this road. I’ll help you nail them. It would be my privilege to do so. I can get you anything you want: locations, numbers, background information, where they hide the money, and where they dump the bodies. But there’s something I need to do first . . . and I need the time to do it. Can you honor my request, and I’ll honor you in turn?”
Susannah poured herself another glass of champagne and took a deep breath. She would say yes, and continue to tail him, because at this point, she didn’t know what to believe. She was quite conflicted about his actual feelings, and she didn’t want to be taken in by deception. Perhaps this was the best she could get out of him, a bunch of what were clearly half-truths. And what now? Now it was time to do what she had come here to do. Fuck his sincerity, his stories, and his goddamn family tree. Fuck her heart. Fuck his eyes. Fuck possibility. She would do what she was made for. She would take down her mark. She would pretend to give him space and take him for all he was worth. Besides which, if this was all there was ever going to be, she could enjoy the rest of the evening here, in this Parisian paradise, in his bed.
“Yes,” she said, looking deeply into his eyes and lying with every piece of her soul, “yes, I will honor you.”
‡‡‡
CHAS INHALED DEEPLY and looked into Susannah’s open and stormy eyes. He would have told her everything—was he crazy?—about his father, the men he hunted, Tyka’s information, Pierre’s role in the scheme. He was getting soft, he was falling too fast. It was the surest way to get her killed and compromise everything he’d ever worked for. Thankfully, he’d found his brain where he’d dropped it and had stopped himself before it was too late. He’d give her a taste, of course—a bit of truth, something to hold on to. And he’d meant what he’d said: as soon as he could kill the Italian he would, and Susannah and her company could take down the rest. He was happy to share in the winnings. All he’d wanted was revenge. But now he wanted something more: her safety.
“Well,” he said, “I’m happy you believe me. It was a difficult afternoon, and it seems that everyone had eyes on me. But now we have the evening, and it’s just you and I, and the world can’t touch us here. How would you like to enjoy the spa and let ourselves escape for a bit?”
He smiled as her eyes grew wide. “The spa?”
“The bathroom, I mean.” He chuckled. “There’s an overflow infinity bathtub with jets, and a chromotherapy system,
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