Chapter 10 #2
“That’s your ride,” Marco said, appearing from the cockpit. “Amelia and I will be staying near the airport. We’ve got accommodations arranged, and the plane will be fueled and ready to go at a moment’s notice. You need an extraction, you call us. Day or night, we can be wheels up in ten minutes.”
“I appreciate that,” Sam said sincerely. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”
“Hopefully not, but it’s always good to have options.” Marco clasped Sam’s hand for a firm shake. “Good hunting, Alpha. And be careful. The Venifucus doesn’t play fair.”
“Neither do I,” Sam said with a slight smile.
Amelia hugged Claudia, which seemed to surprise them both. “You’ve got this,” she said. “I can see it in you. You’re stronger than you think.”
Claudia nodded, looking a bit overwhelmed.
They disembarked into warm Mediterranean sunshine, so different from the humid Houston heat they’d left behind. The air smelled of salt and flowers, and somewhere in the distance, Sam could hear the sound of the sea.
The driver, a discreet man named Jacques, who wore a dark suit in keeping with his role, loaded their luggage efficiently and held the door open. Sam let Claudia slide in first, then joined her in the back seat.
As they pulled away from the airport, following the road toward Monaco, Claudia pressed close to the window, taking in the view.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It is.” But Sam was looking at her, not the scenery. “Are you ready for this?”
She turned to face him, her expression determined, despite the nervousness he could see in her eyes. “I’m ready.”
“Good.” He wanted to take her hand, to offer some physical reassurance, but he kept his hands in his lap. “Because once we step into that hotel, we’re on. We won’t have any real privacy until this is over.”
“I understand.” She took a breath. “Sam, about what happened at the office, with the dancing—”
“We don’t have to talk about that now,” Sam interrupted, not sure he could handle that conversation right now. “Let’s just focus on the gala.”
“Right. The gala.” Something flickered across her face, too quick for him to read. “Of course.”
They pulled up in front of the H?tel de Paris about a half hour later. It was an imposing Belle époque building that epitomized old-world luxury. Doormen rushed to assist with their luggage as Sam escorted Claudia inside.
The lobby was all marble and crystal chandeliers, understated elegance that whispered of wealth so old it didn’t need to shout.
Sam placed a hand on Claudia’s lower back as they approached the reception desk, feeling her slight intake of breath at the contact.
They were on now. This was the role they’d practiced for.
“Reservation for Kinkaid,” Sam said to the impeccably dressed clerk.
“Of course, Monsieur Kinkaid. We’ve been expecting you.” The clerk typed efficiently. “And may I say what a pleasure it is to have you with us for the Celestine Gala. We have several other distinguished guests already in residence.”
“I’m sure,” Sam murmured, accepting the key cards. “Have Mark Peppard and his party arrived yet?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Peppard and Mr. Balam checked in this morning. They’re in suites on your floor. Shall I let them know you’ve arrived?”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll contact them myself.”
As they crossed the lobby toward the elevators, Sam caught sight of their reflection in one of the ornate mirrors. They looked good together, he had to admit. Like they belonged in a place like this. Like they were exactly what they were pretending to be.
The elevator ride was silent, and charged with awareness.
They’d already agreed to stick to neutral topics of conversation in public areas, and until they’d had a chance to scan for bugs in their rooms. It was a sensible precaution.
When they reached their floor and were led into the luxury suite by the bellhop, Claudia gasped.
The space was enormous. A living area with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Mediterranean. And visible through doorways on either side, the bedrooms Barbara had mentioned.
Claudia walked to the windows after the bellhop had left with a generous tip. “This is incredible.”
Sam joined her, looking out at the view. The harbor stretched below them, the famous Monte Carlo Casino visible to their left. Somewhere out there, Abdul Kettering was preparing for the gala. Somewhere in this very hotel, Mark and Nick were settling in with their mates.
And here, in this beautiful, dangerous city, Sam would have to pretend that Claudia meant nothing more to him than a convenient cover story. It was going to be the performance of his life.
“Let’s get unpacked and settled. We should take it easy tonight so we’re ready for action tomorrow,” he said, stepping back from the window and the temptation she represented.
Claudia turned from the view, her expression unreadable. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“We’ll try to catch up with my friends tonight, then have most of tomorrow to prepare,” Sam said. “For now, let’s just focus on getting settled.”
“Prepare for what?” she asked absently.
“For the party tomorrow night and whatever else the day throws at us,” he replied with a wink.
And for pretending I don’t want you, he added silently. For keeping my hands to myself when all I want is to pull you into my arms and finish what we started.
But he didn’t say any of that out loud. Instead, he grabbed his luggage and headed for the bedroom on the right, putting necessary distance between them before he did something they’d both regret.
Or something they wouldn’t regret at all, which would be even more dangerous.