The International Assassin A Sexy Times Crime Thriller by Adele Asher

shadow corporation or deranged despot who orders someone to be killed. One reason is pretty much as good as another. Everyone is equally right and equally wrong,” I said.
    “You’re not just a pretty face are you?” Nick replied saliently.
    “It long ago occurred to me I was mostly doing people a favour. Their lives were so meaningless they were better off out of it and lacking the courage to do it themselves so they should be happy I was prepared to speed their exit,” I told him. He looked quite shocked as well he might before I bit my lip with a teasing smile. He just shook his head. “You are too easy,” I told him with a wink.
    “Very funny.”
    “Seriously, does it bother you what you do?” I asked him.
    “Sometimes.”
    “Then why do you do it?”
    “Because I don’t really know what else to do.”
    “We could run away together. Get a house on a beach. Have six kids.”
    “Wouldn’t you get bored?”
    “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one lifetime.”
    “It’s not over yet. We still have to catch your man.”
    “I’ve already caught my man,” I said smiling demurely.
    We arrived back at Nick’s apartment and parked outside.
     “You pack. I’ll fax these over to the office and see if I can get us some more answers. Then Geneva,” Nick said.
    “Our first holiday together. We can have dinner, see the sights and beat the living shit out of my ex-boyfriend.”
    “The perfect romantic break.”
    Back in the apartment I packed my cases for several days away and selected a suitable wardrobe for Nick while he was busy with the secure fax sending all the banking documents to some secret minions of state.
     
    Probably at GCHQ who would no doubt just Google the results.  
     
    I was quite excited at the prospect of our trip together. Not just because Johnny would get the shock of his life when I eventually turned up but the whole notion of racing across Europe alongside my new beau in his Aston with a boot full of guns was far more exciting than a day at the races. I had a growing appreciation for Nick’s way of doing things. He just got on with it. The fact he asked questions reassured me he was at least quite straight forward in comparison to the devious Johnny. Of course I was curious about Nick’s intentions, however much I might wish to believe it was merely my feminine charm and allure in the bedroom that was enough to cause him to go off reservation on his jaunt to help a damsel in distress he clearly had another motivation, either personal or state-sponsored for catching up with Johnny. I was more probably an attractive sideshow to his main purpose and perhaps he thought he was merely a sideshow to my main purpose. A relationship of mutual benefits. I’m sure he was expected to utilise assets such as myself and tell us whatever we wanted to hear to achieve his objectives.
    Secretly I hoped if I plied him with enough honey he would find me much more than a sideshow. Having finished packing I found Nick typing on a laptop. 
    “All packed,” I told him and sat down on a stool opposite him resting my head on my hands.
    “Nearly done,” he told me.
    “Reporting to M?” I asked casually.
    “Something like that,” he replied.
    “Can I ask you a question?” I asked him.
    “Sure,” he replied a little too certain that suggested he would answer anything even if it involved lying.
    “If it was a choice between duty to Queen and Country and duty to me, which would you choose?” I asked. 
    He just smiled.
    “What makes you think they aren’t just the same thing?”
    “Explain.”
    “You’re a British citizen. Serve and protect.”
    I smiled at him.
    “Oh I like that. Serve and protect. So I’m master now precious .”
    “I wouldn’t go that far.”
    “You didn’t answer the question though.”
    “We’ll cross that bridge if we ever come to it.”
    “That’s quite evasive. What am I to you Nick?”
    “Everything.”
    “So what is your