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Joss stood and offered her a hand. “The sooner we go, the better. I got us seats on the evening flight to Paris.”
Ignoring his proffered hand, she pushed back her chair and stood. “Paris?”
He dropped his arm at his side. Taking a travel bag from the closet, he shoved it into her arms. “Pack. We have little time.”Chapter 25Their flight landed in Paris eleven hours after their takeoff from the Oliver Tambo airport. Clelia was hoping they’d be stopped at customs as she’d left South Africa as Cléane de Villiers, but instead of queuing with the other commercial aircraft passengers, a security official escorted them through a special clearance zone. Whatever chance she’d had at alarming the customs officer was lost.
“No passport control?” she asked.
“Part of the fringe benefits that come with the job.” Joss tightened his arm around her as they walked to a waiting car. “Run from me again,” he said, pressing the soft words against her ear, “and Erwan will pay the price.”
She went stiff in his embrace, the threat turning her heart to ice. “You’ll never find him.”
“If I could find you…” He gave her a moment for the meaning of the unsaid words to sink in.
“You’re mean,” she said through thin lips.
His silver eyes glittered. “I knew you’d understand.”
Shoving her into the back of the car, he took the seat next to her and held her cold hand in his lap. She’d never been to Paris, but she couldn’t appreciate the scenery, not even the Eiffel Tower, as they crossed the city. All she could think about was Joss’s sinister intentions and the warmth of his fingers that clamped around hers.
The driver drove them to the Marais district and dropped them on a square lined with Indian Lilac trees. It was only noon, but the sky was dark and thick with rain clouds. Shivering with cold, she pulled on the coat Joss held open for her.
Joss declined the driver’s help and carried their bags two flights of stairs to the top floor of a residential building. There was only one door where there should’ve been at least four apartments. He deactivated an alarm, unlocked the door, and waited for her to enter ahead of him.
She looked around. The living room was decorated in Renaissance style. A fireplace dominated the far wall. Crystal chandeliers hung from pressed ceilings. When Joss turned on the light, their crystal beads threw shooting stars over the polished hardwood floors.
“Another safe house?” she asked.
“Cain owns several throughout the world.”
“We’re hiding? How long are we staying here?” she asked, her stomach tightening at the thought.
He crossed the floor and stopped short of her. “Only tonight.”
“Where are we going tomorrow?”
He pulled her closer by the lapels of her coat. “Brittany.”
Too shocked by his answer to focus on anything else, she stood motionless as he popped the top button of the coat through the buttonhole.
She barely managed a whispered, “Why?”
He didn’t answer. He finished unbuttoning the coat, glided his hands under the fabric, and brushed the coat off her shoulders.
If he was going to kill her, he would’ve done so already. No, he had something different in mind. Unless he was going back to kill her in Lamor. She stood frozen, contemplating the reason for their return to the very place she’d run from as he caught the coat in one hand and draped it over a chair back without breaking their eye contact.
“This is wrong,” she said in an attempt to appeal to his conscience. Who was she kidding? Joss didn’t have a conscience. “Whatever this is, you don’t have to do this.”
His steel-gray eyes filled with conviction. “I do.”
She gripped his arm when he turned away. “Is this about settling a score? Because if this is about revenge, you needn’t bother. I apologized for taking advantage of you and I’ll apologize again. It happened in the heat of the moment. Surely you’re not going to hold that against me for the rest of my life?”
He looked at where she gripped his arm. “You started this.” He lifted a gaze that was simultaneously cold and heated to her face. “We’re going to finish it.”
She removed her fingers, letting him go. Hurt flared in her chest. If she’d known how the consequences of her impulsive act would affect her life, she’d never have touched him. His silver eyes were vengeful and filled with sinister promises while a spark of heat kindled in their depths. Her gaze slipped down to the bulge in his pants. If this was about settling a score, she’d settle it so they could both move on. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but he turned for the door, saying brusquely, “I need a shower.”
Scooting around him and cutting him off, she cupped his erection. “Do it.”
His nostril flared as he stared at her through heavy-lidded eyes.
