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He looked up at the flight attendant—a young brunette with a very white smile. She touched his arm.
“Anything at all?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.” When he looked back at Jet, she was rolling her eyes.
“Anything at all,” Jet whispered in a breathy voice. “She should have just invited you back to the bathroom for a quickie.”
He snorted.
“So.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I was wondering something.”
He arched a brow.
“What’s your last name?”
He grinned. “Couldn’t find it out in any of your searches?”
Her lips tipped down. “I could find it. If I really wanted to.”
He picked up the in-flight magazine and flipped it open. “No, you couldn’t.”
As he’d guessed, her eyes sparked with challenge. “Yes, I could.”
He winked at her, then slid the magazine away, and put on his headphones. Time for another bad spy movie.
* * *
A few hours later,they landed at Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. Soon, they were off the plane and in line, heading through immigration. Jet was a little twitchy. Cain could remember the first time he’d entered the country on a fake passport. He’d been twitchy, too. Now, he didn’t even blink an eye.
But they didn’t raise any red flags, and before they knew it, they were waiting for their luggage.
“We’re staying at the Le Grand Hotel,” he told her.
“I know. I looked it up.” Her face lit up. “Fancy.”
He didn’t tell her that he’d picked the hotel in the heart of the city with stellar views just for her.
“We have a two-bed suite.” His plan was for them to get in, and sweep the room for bugs. The local CIA team would leave weapons and gear for him. He was hoping he wouldn’t need it. “Tomorrow is day one of the conference.”
She nodded. “I’m excited.”
He could see she actually was excited. He figured she’d enjoy seeing all the tech. He wondered how the buyer would make their approach.
Who were they? A foreign government? A criminal syndicate?
Time would tell.
They grabbed their suitcases and wheeled towards the exit.
“We’ll get a taxi to the hotel,” he said.
She nodded. It was busy outside the terminal. The weather was beautiful, with a clear, blue sky stretching overhead. Summer in Paris could be lovely. He’d enjoy watching Jet soak it all up when she could.
They headed toward the taxi line. A crowd of young men moved close, all carrying bags and talking loudly. One bumped Jet, knocking her into Cain.
“Back off,” Cain growled in French.
The young man lifted his hands. “Je suis désolé.”
