Page 29 of Explosive Vengeance

Guillaume grunted. “After the funeral I’ll be travelling to Marseille on business. You can reach me on my cell.”

“I can come down and meet you there if you want. I can help facilitate the investigation.”

“No.” It wouldn’t do to have any police involvement there when Guillaume’s men would be posing as local cops to meet the shipment. Money, bribes, blackmail and threats only went so far, and he had to be careful now. He wanted Gabrielle enough to avoid using his normal contacts. If she showed in Marseille, she was his.

“All right. Let me know if you change your mind. In the meantime, give this some time. You just need to be patient.”

Patient?How could he be fucking patient with something like this? His brother was dead and the woman who’d murdered him was still alive.

Too restless and upset to sleep, he spent the next few hours combing over the evidence again, trying to find another possible clue that might lead him to his target. All he needed was to be patient?

Fuckthat.

Chapter Ten

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m beat. I’m heading to bed,” Megan announced, pushing up off the sofa beside Chloe.

Heath had been talking with the others for over an hour and now that he had some sort of clue about what was really going on here, was even more curious about these women. They were unlike anyone he’d ever met before, and he’d met all kinds during his military and contracting careers.

Next to Heath, Ty stood and stretched his arms over his head. “Me too. See you guys in the morning.”

“Yeah, and Chloe,” Megan said with a half-smirk, “be nice to Heath. He’s had a long day.”

No shit. It felt more like a week had passed since he left Paris rather than ten hours. But now he got why Ty had asked him to get involved. This was way bigger than Heath had realized, and tough and capable as these women were, they were under threat from dangerous enemies and could use backup.

“Ihavebeen nice to him,” Chloe replied as her friend walked away. “Except for the nick on his thigh.”

Yeah, except for that. And then crushing his phone. Though he now understood why she’d done it. “Guess I’ll turn in too. I’ll take the couch,” he said to her.

“Or we could share my bed.” She gave him another of those naughty looks and he couldn’t tell if she was serious or just trying to get a reaction out of him. She scrambled his brain.

“You just met me.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I’m a good judge of character.”

Okay, he was way too tired for a battle of wits, and he wasn’t even sure what the ground rules were here anyway. “You want to use the bathroom first?”

“You go ahead.” She turned and walked toward one of the bedrooms, so he grabbed his backpack and went into the bathroom.

He opened the door after brushing his teeth, nearly jumped out of his skin to find her right there leaning against the jamb. She was so close he could see the warm amber flecks in her brown eyes, and smell the mint gum she was chewing. She’d changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a snug T-shirt that readCute But Psychoacross the chest.

Accurate.

And she wasn’t wearing a bra, the outline of her pert breasts and nipples visible against the fabric.

“You done?”

He wrenched his gaze up to her face. “Yeah, bathroom’s all yours.” He turned sideways to get past her but she didn’t budge. His chest brushed against her breasts on the way by, and her quiet, indrawn breath heated his blood.

He wasn’t sure why she was so set on driving him crazy, but it was a relief when she shut the door. He took his backpack into the kitchen, rummaged through it to find his phone charger and adaptor to see if they worked with his stupid new phone, his head spinning. Chloe confused the hell out of him. One minute he thought she was nuts, and the next he was thinking about kissing that sassy mouth.

Maybehewas nuts.

He stiffened when the bathroom door opened and soft footfalls approached behind him. He rose, looked across the room as Chloe came closer. She’d pulled out her ponytail, leaving golden-blond waves tumbling around her shoulders, the ends brushing the tops of her pert, unrestrained breasts.

Not. Helping.

“You turning in?” she asked.

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