Chapter 26 #3
Eric tossed his phone aside and grabbed her, pulling her with him as he lay back on the couch. She yelped, grabbing for her own phone as he settled them with his head on the armrest, her on his chest.
“You love me,” he said smugly.
“As I mentioned, I might be stupid.” She dug an elbow painfully into his ribs as she lifted herself, staring at her phone when it pinged again. He was about to make a joke about her addiction to a screen when he processed what she’d said before, while he’d been focused on getting a translation.
You figure it out. I’m getting answers.
“Nikki, what did you mean when you said you were getting answers?”
“I mean that I’m not waiting to see if the Spaniard really shows up. We have no idea if he’s coming tonight or tomorrow or in two weeks. It’s stupid to wait that long when there’s a simpler way to answer the question of ‘Is Gus the Spaniard.’”
“Damn it, Nikolett, what did you do?”
She turned her phone so he could see the screen, and the most recent text exchange between her and Gus. “Nothing yet. But if he responds to this message, I’m going to invite him over for a drink.”
Nikolett
I’m sorry I feel asleep. I think I had too much wine
Cookie Guy
Don’t apologize, you were exhausted
Nikolett
I wanted to say that I had a really good time
Cookie Guy
So did I
The food was good, but the conversation was better
“Nikki, stop texting the maybe bad guy!”
“Why?” She rolled off him when he grabbed for her phone. The phone pinged as he surged to his feet.
Cookie Guy
I’m sorry I hurt your leg
Eric lunged for her, but she’d snatched up the cane and was using it to ward him off like he was a lion and she the lion tamer.
He lunged again, making her gasp-laugh and dance back.
When he finally grabbed her and, once more, tossed her onto the bed, he didn’t grab her phone.
As dangerous as her texting felt, he couldn’t fault her reasoning that maybe this would be much simpler if, instead of waiting for the Spaniard, they went straight to Gus.
Nikolett
You didn’t hurt my leg. Truly
Just a twinge and it surprised me
Gus Alias +44 Number
I should have been gentler. You had a cast on.
Nikolett
I should have warned you. I was in the moment and wasn’t thinking.
Gus Alias +44 Number
I’m glad I didn’t hurt you
Nikolett
Gus, if I did or said anything that upset you, I’m so sorry. Between the wine and, like you said, exhaustion, I wasn’t at my best
Gus Alias +44 Number
You have nothing to apologize for
He should stop there. He should be analyzing her messages, not just reading them with a stupid smile on his face.
Gus Alias +44 Number
You were perfect
He was a fucking moron.
Gus put his phone down and scrubbed his face before cupping the back of his neck and looking at the sky. He was such a fool. The instant she messaged, he’d dropped everything to respond.
Shaking his head, he looked at his phone again, this time trying to interpret tone and read between the lines. Consider the implications of every word.
She remembered something, but didn’t seem angry with him. That much was clear from her “If I did or said anything that upset you, I’m so sorry” message. Unless the tone was sarcastic, but Nikolett wasn’t really the sarcastic type.
Maybe she remembered his hands on her and was uneasy because she didn’t know exactly how far it had gone.
Maybe she remembered saying Eric’s name.
And now Eric was in Paris.
It wasn’t possible for Gus to monitor everything all the time, even if he subcontracted elements, and this operation he was handling himself, so he’d been taken by surprise when he saw Eric jog past this morning while he sat in a café doing final recon.
He monitored what happened on the Isle of Man, and had been thrilled at the timing when Eric left several days ago.
What he hadn’t questioned was where Eric had gone, since the man traveled frequently.
Eric looked at him this morning, not with suspicion but with a frown of almost confusion—as if he thought he recognized Gus.
Do I look familiar, Eric?
Gus was up and moving the instant Eric jogged out of sight.
Gus had shifted to a lookout point in time to watch Nikolett studiously ignore Eric as she walked past him. Eric had grinned at her like a fool, and there was no way she didn’t see him, which meant Nikolett was actively ignoring Eric.
Gus had suspected they were fighting since they hadn’t been seen together since Italy before his little bit of fun in Dublin stirred things up.
It was good to get confirmation that she was ambivalent about the Dane despite her saying his name at an inopportune time.
And based on the way Eric looked at her, it was clear the disinterest was both wavering and one-sided.
Eric still wanted, or at least felt possessive of, Nikolett.
Which in turn meant Gus still had cards to play there.
He should let the Nikolett situation go because it had gotten messy. Ignore her message. Ghost her.
Instead, he sent her a text.
Gus Alias +44 Number
I don’t want to pressure you into meeting up again, but I had a good time.
Gus rolled his shoulders before putting his phone away. He couldn’t think about Nikolett too much because every time he did, it sent dangerous vibrations through the web of his plans.
Easier to focus on Eric. Why was he in Paris?
The answer was, of course, that Eric was here to help with the elaborate trap they’d set for the Spaniard. The Spaniard would break in, get the information, and probably make it all the way out of the building before the Masters’ Admiralty grabbed him.
Taking out a small tablet, he unfolded it and watched the screen, studying the plethora of data he’d gathered and fed into a time lapse of today compared to yesterday. The difference in foot and vehicle traffic gave him a rough idea of where everyone was stationed for this fun little trap.
The sun had set, though it wasn’t quite full dark. This part of Paris was mostly businesses and expensive hotels, so the streets were quiet.
It was time to begin his approach. In order to spring their trap early, he had to prime it, which meant they had to see him coming, and that would be easier if it wasn’t fully dark. They wouldn’t catch him—unless he had to pivot mid-action and allow them to take him.
He had a plan for that too, but that was endgame, and he wasn’t done toying with them.
As of now, the plan was to disappear just before they had him, using the hidden ways in and out of that monstrosity of a building.
Lost places and hidden paths were his specialty. He’d survived by learning to see what other people overlooked.
What was through that door?
Why was there a shadow there?
What happened if he turned left here when the sign pointed right?
At first, it had been a way to hide. Now, it was a way to go where no one wanted him in the physical world. He had other tricks for being unseen digitally.
No one ever expected him to disappear—he was too big, too noticeable.
Gus threw his leg over the delivery service moped he’d purchased. The box on the back was perfect for storing his tools, as well as giving him cover.
He kicked the engine on and zoomed out into the street, the full-face helmet rendering street-level camera facial recognition useless.
The connecting door opened.
Nikolett sucked in a breath and glanced at the partially open bedroom door. Because of the angles, whoever was walking into their suite couldn’t see her and Eric, but still…
She tugged on Eric’s hair.
He flicked her clit with his tongue.
This time, Nikolett sucked in a breath for an entirely different reason.
“Eric,” she hissed. Wait, could he hear her? Probably not with her thighs clamped to the sides of his head. Could he breathe?
She dropped her knees wide and tugged on his hair again while saying, “Eric, someone’s coming.”
He looked up from between her legs, and she had no idea she’d find that so arousing until it happened, and she nearly passed out from the fresh wave of desire.
“I’m not going to stand here and wait for you,” Regina called from the other room. “I just came to say they spotted him. He’s on his way to the target.”
That sobered her. Nikolett planted the heel of her hand on Eric’s forehead and pushed. He released her clit with a pop that made her see stars.
“Sure you want me to stop?” He kissed her inner thigh.
“You sure you want to be eating my pussy while I text another man?”
Eric growled against her leg, then looked up, brows rising. “You’re going to text Gus now?”
“If he’s the Spaniard, he won’t respond.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean ‘maybe’?”
“I mean—” Eric lowered his head between her legs, wrapping his arms around her thighs to trap her in place, his to play with, “—one text hardly seems like a reason for me to stop.”
Nikolett frantically sent the text before the feel of Eric’s soft, warm tongue on her clit made her lose the ability to type. Pleasure radiated through her, warm and soft. The kind that built slowly and guaranteed the eventual orgasm would fundamentally redefine pleasure.
Nikolett dropped her phone, laced her fingers through Eric’s hair, and forgot about everything but him.
Close now. Gus stopped to let a slow-moving lorry pass—right on schedule. He was just down the street from the building, and he’d be visible to anyone keeping watch. Someone on a moped, even with a delivery bag on the back, would draw their attention.
Gus’ watch buzzed with a message.
He hated the way his heart leapt.
For a moment, he debated. Was still debating when the lorry finished lumbering past. He twisted the handle and started forward.
He had a plan. He’d spring their trap early, get the information—he had no idea if it was actually worth anything, but it was a point of professional pride to actually do the job he was hired for—then get out.
He’d watch them scramble to figure out how he’d gotten away, then once they seemed calm, he would spring a few of his planned surprises.
He had fun chaos planned for both Paris and elsewhere.
The next time they laid a trap for him, he’d let them catch him, but not tonight. Tonight, he’d get away, utterly humiliating them in the process.
His watch buzzed again. A reminder of the unread message.
With a mental curse, he raised his wrist and read the message.
Nikolett
If you’re still in Paris, would you like to come over for a drink? No wine for me, but I hear the hotel makes a nice un déca.
Gus braked hard, putting one foot down as he veered onto a side street. This wasn’t part of the plan. He looked back the way he’d come, toward the building—his objective for tonight.
He faced forward. Down this alley, turn right, and he’d be only blocks from the hotel.
“Fuck,” Gus whispered in Catalan.
This alley wasn’t part of plan A or B, but he’d explored it plenty while working on plan C.
He doubted the Masters’ Admiralty was monitoring the false wall that hid what had probably once been a garden between two buildings but was now a maze of heating units and utility pipes, the false wall there to hide it all.
They’d find it now because they’d come looking for him when he didn’t appear at or in the building, but by then it would be too late.
He stashed the bike, slid in an unlocked ground floor window—it was a tight fit—and two minutes later exited through a building on the other side of the street, thanks to a series of connected underground cellars.
There was still time to get back on track.
Head for the building and spring their trap.
Make sure they converged on that back door while he snuck into the building beside the target and went from a third-floor window in that building to one in his target location—one advantage of his height was he could take long steps, long enough to span tight spaces.
That’s what he should do.
What he did was turn the other way and start walking, shedding bits of tonight’s disguise as he went.
He took one detour to an épicerie he’d noted during his recon.
Luckily the shop owner was still there. Though the store had closed half an hour ago, he took pity on Gus’ begging to open for just a moment.
He paid double for the items and felt simultaneously stupid and pleased with himself as he turned back toward the hotel.
By the time he reached Nikolett’s hotel, he wore only pants, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket, his phone and a state-of-the-art folding tablet in his pockets.
He’d discarded thousands of dollars of other equipment in various cans and dumpsters but that didn’t matter.
He wasn’t sure this look was in keeping with the man she knew as Gus, but nothing about him should raise an alarm.
Even as he pressed the button for the elevator, he asked himself what the hell he was doing. He’d meant to use Nikolett, instead he…
Gus didn’t actually have a word for what he felt with her. For her.
The only way he could describe it was that when he was with her, he was Gus. The version of himself that might have been.
But Gus wasn’t who he really was. Before now, before Nikolett, he would have said the Spaniard was the truest version of himself.
Now, he knew that wasn’t accurate either.
As he stepped out of the elevator on the penthouse floor, Gus knew that no matter what version of himself he was, he wanted to see Nikolett.