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  Sonia didn’t reply, but she moved the piece of paper around in her hand. She could see Gloria had been baited.

  “Look, sweetie, I can’t tell you much. I don’t take that much interest. Tarquin and I have been like two snarling dogs on a bit of rope for months now. However, I overheard him talking about retir-ing early, moving to the tropics.” She gave another dry, humorless laugh. “He’ll be going without me. I never could stand the heat and the bloody insects.”

  Was this what was at the root of Gloria’s bitterness? She felt compassion for her. If he had kept those plans from her, it meant her husband didn’t want her to go with him.

  “He was talking to a friend who has a place out there. He wants to buy property, and I know for sure our stocks and shares wouldn’t cover that sort of investment.”

  That was exactly the sort of thing Oliver had told her to look for.

  “He has money coming in from elsewhere?”

  “Not that I actually see. What he earns from the government just about covers this place.” She gestured toward the house. “Wherever this retirement fund is, I don’t see it. Shame, for if it’s invisible I don’t get to call him on it in the divorce case.” She gave a slow, wry smile.

  “Does he know you’re going for divorce?”

  “Oh, yes. He’s trying to find a way out of being called on his affair, says it will reflect badly on his career, but it’s really about losing out to me. He hasn’t been careful enough… not this time around.” She gave Sonia a meaningful glance. “He’s been using his credit card on little feminine luxuries that definitely weren’t for me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Sonia couldn’t help herself.

  Gloria shrugged. “It’s not the first time.”

  “These early retirement plans, do you think they’ve got real substance? Do you think he’s planning a new life?”

  “Yes. He’s just playing for time for some reason, money probably.” She pushed back her hair, sighing deeply, her gaze still occasionally sliding to the piece of paper in Sonia’s hand. “What sort of bother has he got your brother into?”

  Sonia was startled, but Oliver had warned her not to share too much information. “I don’t know, but I’m desperate not to let him get sucked into something unwittingly, you know.”

  Gloria nodded. “Have I helped at all?” She gave a sad smile, and yet nothing that had been said had really fazed her. Sonia couldn’t imagine being like that; being that jaded with life and its disappointments that nothing seemed to shock or move her. Was this Tarquin’s doing?

  “Yes, I think you have helped.” She stood up. “I hope you get things worked out to your satisfaction.” She put the piece of folded paper down on the breakfast bar.

  Gloria stared at it, her arms folded tight against her chest, her cup still clutched in one hand. Now that it was there for her, it was as if she didn’t want to see it after all. Sonia forced herself to turn away and leave.

  As she walked back down the hallway, she began to wonder if this was only the tip of the iceberg with Tarquin. Gifts for other women, early retirement and an overseas hide away? Had he been doing dodgy dealings for a long time? Abusing his government position to produce forged documents for shipments of illegal goods?

  If it involved weapons, she wondered what manner of atrocities had occurred as a result.

  Her desire to put an end to it strengthened. There was enough horror in the world. If she could help stop Tarquin, she would do whatever it took.

  When she got outside, it was a relief to feel the fresh air and the sunshine on her face. And it was an even bigger pleasure to see Oliver leaning up against the side of his car, waiting for her, with a big smile and a thumbs-up. He eyed her as she walked closer, a sexy assessment that made her want to shimmy right up against him and demand he kiss her.

  “Did I do okay?”

  “You did more than okay, you got some good stuff. Very well handled.”

  “I can’t say I enjoyed it.” She grimaced. “I feel kind of dirty, you know.”

  He nodded.

  “Will I have time to grab a quick shower at my place before we head to the airport?”

  His eyebrows went up. “You’re a tenacious sort, aren’t you?”

  She smiled. “Yes, but seriously, I have to see Alec. I’ll go mad sitting at home waiting for news.”

  He reached over to the door handle and opened it for her.

  “Okay, you can come with me.” He glanced at his watch. “You’ve got time for a very quick shower. I might even scrub your back to help speed it up.”

  “If you scrub my back, it won’t be a quick shower,“ she replied, teasingly, and swung into the seat.

  As he closed the door, he was shaking his head, but he was smiling.

  She was determined to enjoy every moment of this time with Oliver. She just had to remember not to fall for him. That was the hard part.

  Falling for Trouble: Chapter 5

  Oliver glanced at his watch and ruffled his fingers through his hair. Scanning the crowds drifting through the departure lounges, he tried to catch sight of Sonia. She’d darted off towards the departure lounge shopping precinct and told him she’d catch him up at the gate. Fifteen minutes he’d given her. The stragglers were in the queue at the boarding gate. The last call had gone out minutes ago.

  Women and shopping, and at a time like this!

  He shook his head, but he couldn’t help smiling. She really wasn’t like any other woman he’d known, despite the shopping thing. She was fresh and spunky and hellish sexy. He’d had more trouble keeping his mind on the job in the last few hours than he’d had in his whole career as an undercover police officer. Silent determination and unflinching focus were his trademarks. He wasn’t used to being distracted by a smile or the way she tucked her hair behind her ear with one finger when she became thoughtful. Then there was the sex…

  “For Pete’s sake,” he muttered, “here I go again.” He turned to watch the last few people in the queue filtering past the boarding desk, trying to maintain his focus.

  “Oliver, yoo-hoo.”

  His gaze swerved back. She was racing through the crowds,

  waving. Relief poured through his body, relief and something much more tangible: lust. He was loaded with the stuff. He’d never had it like this before. What had she done to him?

  Just the sight of her jogging through the crowds had sensations flooding through his entire body. Desire, hot and fierce. But it was more than that, because it was combined with a sense of pride at her gutsy approach to supporting her brother, and a growing need to be by her side and hold her, with the promise of physical closeness later.

  “I’m here, just in time too, by the looks of it.” She nodded at the queue, shifting her shopping bags into one hand.

  The blue jeans and black shirt she had changed into were no less sexy than the hot little number she had been wearing the night before. She just looked sexy all the time; he had to face up to it.

  That was bad news as far as accomplishing any task was concerned. She was breathless too, her cheeks flushed just like they had been last night, after she had melted into a multiple orgasm.

  Hell, she was hot.

  She reached up and kissed him, before grabbing his arm and guiding him toward the gate, as if he had been holding her up.

  “You okay? You look kind of dazed.”

  “Just worried that you might have slipped into a shopping

  frenzy and forgot why we were here.”

  “Who me?” She chuckled. “Has Alec been telling stories about my shopping addiction?”

  Mention of Alec put a minor hitch in the flow of lust through his veins. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d forgotten The Good Friend code of conduct, but it had completely slipped his mind somewhere between Tarquin’s desk and his apartment, when all he could think about was picking up where they’d left off when the security guard had entered the room.

  That’s what he’d meant to talk to her about, outside Tarquin’s
house this morning. He’d wanted to say something about respect, caring about her on another level, but she’d pulled the rug from under him by being flippant about what had happened between them.

  He’d felt strangely adrift at that point. He blamed that mood for the fact that he’d subsequently agreed to her coming along on the rest of the trip. He was slipping. His parameters weren’t functioning normally.

  He had the feeling that things were getting complicated. He didn’t do complicated. Not with women. Avoided complicated at all costs, and certainly not with his friend’s little sister. A powerful force was disorienting his normally sharp mind: pure, undiluted Sonia.

  He handed the boarding passes over at the gate and collected her bags into one hand. “Allow me.”

  She smiled up at him and he gave a sigh and a weak smile before he kissed her forehead and ushered her along. She clung to his arm happily as they made their way on board.

  When they got to their seats she only let him stow her backpack and the larger of her shopping bags in the overhead locker. Once they’d got settled into their seats, she started rooting through the small bags that she’d kept on her lap and pulled out various items to show him.

  “Scarves, two of, and two pair of sunglasses for different looks and—wait for it—a complete make-over set. I had just enough time to pick up some tips from the make-up girl and I now know how to change my look completely.” She smiled at him proudly.

  “I’m all set for our Paris surveillance work.”

  “I told you that you could come along. I didn’t say you could do the surveillance with me.” No way, he wasn’t putting her in that situation. Tarquin was a dangerous man, far more dangerous than she realized.

  “But Oliver…” Her face fell. She looked like a little kitten, dismayed to be put down at the end of a cuddle-and-play session.

  He gave an inner groan. She was a dangerous woman. He reached over and kissed her, unable to resist the soft pout of her mouth, the inviting curve of that lush lower lip of hers. It just shouted “sex” at his every atom.

  “Tarquin might recognize you,” he murmured, as he reluctantly eased back from the kiss.

  “I’ll be able to help. I’ll spot him much quicker than you. I know him.”

  The seatbelt signs were on, and the hostess has started her take-off routine. He reached over and pulled the belt across Sonia’s hips and locked her into place, his hand lingering in against her waist.

  “I’m not taking any more risks; you’ve already done enough by confronting Gloria.”

  She gestured him at her accessories. “He won’t recognize me—

  that’s why I bought all this stuff, and wait till you see what I picked up in the lingerie section, for afterwards.” She gave the slowest, sexiest wink he’d ever seen.

  Lingerie? Bribery more like, he thought to himself, his glance darting down towards her cleavage, where he pictured something black and lacy. His balls tingled, the pulse in his groin thudding insistently.

  He shook his head.

  This is what the blokes at work were always telling him about, that one day he, too, would be made into an imbecile around some woman, some woman who he’d also totally cease to function without. He had laughed it off, told them he’d follow women’s charms only as far as he wanted to be led.

  But with Sonia it was different. He was fast growing addicted.

  He was a lost cause.

  ***

  The Pompidou Center loomed up like a testament to all that

  was ugly about modern architecture, an atrocity on the landscape.

  Whoever thought putting all the plumbing and the escalators on the outside of a building would be an attractive prospect should have his head examined, Sonia mused, eyeing one corner of the building with suspicion. It was a novelty amongst the class architecture around it, although she supposed it gave heaps more space inside, which had to be useful.

  Across the busy Plaza, a crocodile of school children meandered by, high and excitable on a day out of the classroom. To her left, a toddler broke free of his mother and ran towards a gaggle of pi-geons, chattering at them in French. The birds lifted and swooped overhead. Sonia ducked, protecting the paper-wrapped crepe in her hand from possible falling debris. She darted another glance over her shoulder toward the entrance of the Pompidou Center.

  “Hey, I saw that.” Oliver glared at her, doing a credible impression of a stern schoolmaster. He’d told her to keep fixed in his direction—which mostly wasn’t a problem, she could look at him forever—so that he could photograph the building over her shoulders and they’d looked like two regular tourists.

  “The birds,” she explained and nibbled on the crepe, her third.

  They’d been waiting for over an hour for Tarquin to emerge from his official hands-of-culture engagement.

  She was edgy with anticipation. The waiting was really getting to her. She stood on one foot, circling the other one and waggling the toes to get the circulation going. Surveillance work was hard on the legs, not to mention the stomach. She was beginning to regret this latest crepe and binned the remainder. Oliver said it was cover.

  Much more café and crepe and she would be waddling after their target, instead of following him in a suitably covert but speedy manner.

  Oliver watched the front entrance, where a few paparazzi types were hanging about, possibly waiting for the hands-of-culture delegates to emerge, maybe waiting for someone from some other event. The Pompidou was huge and ran several events at a time.

  They couldn’t be sure when Tarquin’s event would end, so Oliver was doing circuits to keep an eye on the other less conspicuous exits too.

  “How’s my disguise holding up?”

  “Beautifully.” He gave her a once over. “You look bohemian, like you should be roaming the Pyrenees with a sketch pad.”

  “Perfect, that’s exactly the look I was going for.”

  When he’d agreed she could help him spot Tarquin, she’d given the make-over serious attention. Hiding her distinctive mane of hair had been the most obvious way to change her look. She’d donned a soft cotton scarf in red, binding her hair peasant style with the excess scarf knotted loosely at the back of her head and the tasseled corners trailing down her back. She’d stuffed her new sexy undies and make-up into her backpack with her change of clothes for the next day.

  Even she was surprised at the alterations she’d been able to achieve with the make-up girl’s quick tips. Her make-up was all rich dark colors, not her usual style at all. Soft, smoky kohl outlined her eyes, making them look deeper set and wide apart, and complemented a warm foundation and a rich, ruby lipstick. She felt decidedly European. She’d set it off with a pair of shades with cats-eye frames perched on the end of her nose.

  Oliver stared at her silently, as if deep in thought, before he went back to scrolling on her mobile phone. “I’ve put my number in here so you can call me super quick. I’m going to go round the back of the building and onto the Rue Beaubourg. I’ll spend a few minutes checking out the vehicles, in case he’s got a driver out back.”

  “Okay.”

  “You see anything, you call me.”

  She saluted. He shook his head but smiled as he turned away.

  She watched as his now familiar figure cut a path through the gaggles of tourists and school parties littering the plaza. He stood out a mile, to her, and she imagined, to any woman with her full quota of faculties. Tall, imposing, sexy and gorgeous.

  The way they went from carnal to comfortable so easily was really something. She wondered how they had come to feel so relaxed with each other so quickly. It had to be the way they’d been thrown together, the speed at which they were moving and the nature of the situation. Like he’d said last night. Danger inspires desire.

  Did that explain it, this need to be close to him, this sense of attachment? Was it just because she was overwrought and anxious about Alec and this situation that she had inadvertently put him in? Was it fear, or had something s
tronger made her slip under his spell?

  All she knew was that she wanted to be by Oliver’s side.

  Two slow minutes after Oliver had gone, there was movement within the handful of paparazzi gathered at the main entrance.

  Three suited dignitaries emerged together. Her breath caught when she saw that Tarquin was with them.

  She folded the metro map she had in her hand into her pocket and pulled out her mobile phone. Scrolling quickly, her pulse rate rising, she watched in alarm as Tarquin separated out from the group, leaving them to fend off the photographers, and headed across the Plaza at a right angle.

  Her hands shook as she called Oliver. “He’s here,” she an-

  nounced into the phone when he answered, her blood pumping fast. “He’s come out of the building and he’s heading onto the Rue Berger on foot.”

  “Okay, stay on the line and stay right there. I’m on my way.”

  She could hear him gathering speed, but there was no sign of Oliver, and Tarquin was pacing away into the distance. Fear and confusion hit her. If she stayed put, they’d lose him. They’d come all this way and for what? They needed to know if he met The Gun Runner.

  There was only one thing to do. She had to go after him herself.

  Even as the thought gathered conviction, her blood ran cold and her feet froze to the spot.

  Alec needs my help. I have to be brave.

  “Sonia?”

  “Oliver, we’re going to lose him.” She willed herself to move.

  She took a few cautious steps, barely avoiding a collision with another pedestrian.

  “Sonia, I can hear you moving,” he declared, his tone disbelieving. “You’re going after him.”

  “I’m keeping tabs on him until you catch up with me.” Tarquin was moving ever faster and she had to speed up and jog along to keep up with him. He must be late for his meeting.

  Oliver’s voice grew overly loud. “I don’t want you getting into any trouble. Hang back but keep him in your sights if you can. I’ll be there inside a minute. Don’t get close to him. Promise?”

  “Yes, okay. I’ll hang back but keep him in my sights.”