MISSING CHILD

Kate Elliot’s suburban life turns upside down when her sister is shot and her niece kidnapped. Unsure of whom to trust, she turns to FBI agent Marcus O’Brian. But Kate doesn’t want to leave the case to the authorities. Against the handsome agent’s orders, she tracks her niece to Paris, and the City of Light quickly becomes a city of danger. Marcus can’t explain why he feels such a strong connection with the headstrong woman, but soon he’s taking on the role of Kate’s protector. Yet when the kidnappers demand a ransom Kate can’t deliver, he’s not sure how much longer he can keep her alive. Now Marcus has the next twenty-four hours to save a stolen child and the woman he’s grown to love.

“Kate, wait. Before we go…”

Her gaze narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I want you to return to the States. I can get you on the next flight.”

“Forget it.” She started for the door. “I can’t return. Not now…not until I find my niece.”

He stepped in front of her, blocking the door. “After tonight, isn’t it clear that it’s not safe for you in Paris?”

“My niece isn’t exactly safe right now, either, Marcus. I’m not leaving her behind.”

“I understand how you feel—”

“Do you?”

He took her hands, but she pulled away. It didn’t matter what he thought. She was staying, and she was going to make the ransom exchange at the Eiffel Tower.

“Kate, those people don’t play by the rules. They don’t care if you get hurt. But I do.”

“You need me here, Marcus, and you know it.”

“I need you safe. What if the next time you run into them you’re not so lucky? I don’t want you a part of this—”

“It’s too late. I’m already a part of it. And I’ll see it to the end.” Even if it cost her her life.

LISA HARRIS is a Christy Award winner and winner of the Best Inspirational Suspense Novel for 2011 from RT Book Reviews. She and her family are missionaries in southern Africa. When she’s not working she loves hanging out with her family, cooking different ethnic dishes, photography and heading into the African bush on safari. For more information about her books and life in Africa visit her website at lisaharriswrites.com.

Taken

Lisa Harris

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

—Psalms 139:8–10

Dedicated to my husband and all of our fun memories of the most romantic city in the world.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

Kate Elliot pressed her cell phone against her ear with her shoulder as she fumbled to open her sister’s front door with her spare key. The lock stuck. “My sister... I think... I think she’s been shot.”

“What is the location of the emergency, ma’am?”

Kate squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears as she gave the woman her sister’s address.

“The paramedics are en route now, ma’am.”

Thirty seconds later, Kate managed to open the door. She stepped inside the two-story house in the upscale Dallas suburb, her heart pounding. Dora the Explorer giggled on the flat-screen TV in the living room. The normally immaculate house had been completely trashed.

“Rachel!” She screamed out her sister’s name.

Kate picked up the remote, froze Dora’s character, then called for her sister again, but only an eerie silence greeted her. Trying not to panic, she checked quickly through the downstairs.

There was no sign of her sister.

She headed up the stairs straight for the master bedroom. Like the rest of the house, the room had been trashed. Bedding lay in mounds on the floor, framed photos had been ripped off the walls and dresser drawers dumped onto the floor. Their contents lay strewn across the bloodstained carpet—all telltale signs of the horror that had taken place moments before.

Rachel lay still on her back in the middle of the room.

Kate dropped to her knees beside her sister, avoiding a thick shard of glass from a broken mirror, and grasped Rachel’s wrist. The monotone beeping from the receiver of the landline vied for attention against a pulse that was steady but weak.

Rachel groaned and opened her eyes.

“Don’t move, sweetie. I’m here.” Fighting back the tears, Kate wiped off the perspiration that had beaded across Rachel’s ashen forehead.

“They broke in through the back door... They had guns... It all happened so fast...”

“An ambulance is almost here, and they’ll get you to the hospital. You’re going to be okay, Rachel. I promise.”

Kate’s gaze shot to her sister’s bloodstained dress and realized it was a promise she might not be able to keep. “Rachel, stay with me. Please.”

Grabbing a bathrobe off the floor, Kate pressed the fuzzy garment against Rachel’s abdomen where the bullet had entered. The white material immediately took on a deep crimson stain.

Oh, God, please don’t take her now. Not this way.

Rachel’s eyes widened as she gasped for air. “Sophie... They took Sophie.”

“Sophie’s fine, honey. She’s with Mom.” Kate forced her voice to stay calm despite the sick feeling spreading through her. Rachel had to be mistaken. Sophie spent every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning with Grams. And today was Monday.

But if that was true, why had Dora been on?

Rachel’s mouth twisted from the pain. “No...Mom couldn’t keep her today. Her arthritis is flaring up again.”

The walls of Kate’s stomach contracted. Surely someone hadn’t taken her four-year-old niece. She brushed back a strand of Rachel’s auburn hair. “I didn’t see her when I came in, but if she’s not with Mom, she has to be here somewhere.”

Kate glanced at the open door of the bedroom, trying not to imagine what Sophie might have seen. Armed men breaking in and tearing apart the house. Her mother shot. And if they had taken her...

“Sophie?” she shouted. “Are you here, sweetie? It’s Auntie Kate.”

No response.

Kate pressed harder against Rachel’s wound to try to stop the bleeding, as her mind scrambled to put together a time line. She’d arrived moments after Rachel’s call, unclear from her sister’s frantic speech as to what had happened, other than the chilling words that she’d been shot.

They shot me, Kit Kat. Hurry...please. I can’t...

The moment she’d stepped into her sister’s house, it had been clear that something was terribly wrong. Someone had been here, systematically going through every inch of the house. Looking for something. But what?

The tug to find Sophie grew stronger, but for now, she had no choice but to stay with her sister.

“Rachel, I need you to try to focus for a minute. Who shot you?”

Rachel’s gaze narrowed. “Two men.”

Kate listened for signs that someone was still in the house, while trying to swallow the terror. “Do you know them?”

Rachel shook her head.

“What about Sophie?”

“They took her.” A shriek erupted from Rachel’s lips as she fought to sit up. “I know they did. They took my baby.”

Kate held Rachel tighter. She had to be mistaken. “Sophie has to be here. What reason would anyone have to take her?”

Rachel’s breathing grew raspier. “I don’t know.”

Kate glanced at the window. Where was the ambulance?

“You have to know something, Rachel. They were here, looking for something. What were they looking for?”

“I said I don’t know.”

Kate frowned. If Sophie was missing—and Rachel didn’t make it—they were going to need every clue possible to find her. “Try to think. Please. Does this have anything to do with Chad?”

She’d never known Rachel’s husband to be abusive, but that didn’t mean their marriage had always been amiable.

Kate remembered that Saturday Rachel had met her for lunch and told her not only that she was pregnant, but that she was going to marry the baby’s father. Rachel had spent that summer in Europe, traveling with a group of friends, and had fallen for the first Frenchman who’d caught her eye. Kate might not have approved of the relationship, but she’d seen the love Rachel had for Chad and prayed that they’d find a way to make it work. They’d all hoped for happily-ever-after. But sometimes life didn’t turn out that way.

“When I went to see him...in Paris...he told me he was scared.” Rachel choked out the words. “He told me they would do anything to...to get what they wanted.”

Kate tried to put together the pieces. Rachel had left for Paris three months ago to try to patch up her relationship with her husband, Chad. When she returned, Rachel had distanced herself, never opening up about the trip. Kate had assumed her silence was her way to deal with her failing marriage. Now she realized it had to be much more than that. She’d always feared Chad and Rachel’s relationship might one day end in divorce. She’d worried about how Sophie would handle the loss of a father, and how Rachel would cope as a single mom, but she’d never considered the scenario they were facing now. Not the reality of her sister fighting for her life.

“Who are they?” Kate asked. “What do they want?”

Sirens screamed in the distance.

“I think he’s involved in something illegal,” Rachel said.

“What?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Did Chad take Sophie?”

“No, but it could be...someone he’s involved with.”

Flashing lights from the ambulance reflected against the beige walls of the bedroom. Kate heard the front door slam against the foyer wall and shouted to the paramedics to come upstairs.

Rachel gripped Kate’s forearm. “Promise...promise me you’ll find her, Kate. Don’t let anything happen to her. Please...please, Kate...she’s all I have.”

Kate nodded at her sister. “You know I’ll do everything I can. I promise.”

The following minutes clicked by like a hazy fog. Kate stood at the edges of the room, watching the paramedics try to stabilize Rachel. She’d already explained to one of the officers that not only had her sister been shot, but her niece was missing. The room tilted as they searched the house for Sophie. Nausea spread through her. Nothing made sense. Rachel was a mom who worked part-time as a hairdresser at a local beauty shop. Someone clearly wanted something that was worth killing for, but what? And why would they take Sophie?

Thirty minutes later, Kate stood in the waiting room while doctors rushed to save Rachel’s life.

As she leaned against one of the walls, an officer approached her and began peppering her with questions. Though sympathetic, he wanted answers—fast. Did she know who had shot her sister? Did she know where her niece was?

Kate caught the young officer’s gaze, fighting the urge to scream. No. She didn’t have any answers. Didn’t know who had shot Rachel. Didn’t know where Sophie was.

As he continued to ask her questions she had no clue how to answer, she thought about calling her mother and the pastor from their church, but had no idea what to say. How was she supposed to break the news to her mother that Rachel might be dying and Sophie was missing?

She wondered if they should expect a ransom note. That was how they did it on television. Cops or FBI agents waited with the grieving family until the kidnappers called to make their demands. They needed to find out what they were after, and if this were somehow connected to Chad, because Rachel didn’t have the kind of money kidnappers would demand.

Which meant she needed to talk with Chad. She tried his preprogrammed number she’d kept on her phone. No answer. Despite their failing marriage, Kate couldn’t imagine the man shooting Rachel and leaving her for dead. The two might have had their issues, but she didn’t think Chad was capable of murder—or even kidnapping, for that matter.

Except all the signs were there. Possible divorce, a string of heated arguments, and if he was involved in something illegal... Even if he hadn’t been here, Chad had to know something.

She punched in his number again, wondering what time it was in Paris right now. Wondering why he wasn’t answering.

Only one thing was clear at the moment. She was going to keep her promise to her sister and find Sophie.

* * *

Monday afternoon, Marcus O’Brian slid the key into the front door of the upscale house and slipped past the yellow tape. Operation Solitaire had turned into a yearlong investigation with diamonds being smuggled into the United States in exchange for military-grade weapons for a number of third-world African countries. And his search had led him here.

After weeks of dead ends, he still had more questions than answers. Which was why coming here was a long shot, but it wasn’t one he was willing to dismiss. Chad Laurent, half French, half American, might be working as a legitimate buyer for an international jewelry company, but now Marcus had compelling evidence Chad was buying and selling diamonds sourced from illegitimate channels; uncertified diamonds that had been smuggled into the international market and in turn sold as legitimate gems. And now on top of that, the man was a prime suspect in an attempted murder case and kidnapping charges of his wife and daughter.

He stepped through the front door and studied the layout of the three-bedroom, two-story house that had been ransacked—open-concept living room, dining room and kitchen, with a wide staircase to the second floor. Among the chaos were picture books, puzzles, stacks of children’s DVDs and colorful drawings hanging on the fridge. He went over in his mind everything he knew about Rachel Elliot Laurent. Married for five years, but currently separated from her husband. There was no evidence of abuse, which was why the shooting seemed out of character if Chad was behind it. Or at least unexpected. But the rules of the game had changed, and he had a feeling that Rachel wasn’t as innocent as she’d portrayed herself to be in their interview three days before the shooting.

Something about her demeanor had rubbed him the wrong way. She’d insisted she knew nothing about Chad’s possible illegal activities, especially now that her husband had relocated to Paris six months ago, but she’d been hiding something. He was certain of it.

He heard a noise upstairs. Marcus’s pulse shot up a notch. Someone else was in the house. He took the stairs to the second floor slowly, gun drawn, senses alert to the unfamiliar sounds of the house. According to his contact within the local PD, no one should be here. More than likely it was someone who’d decided to take advantage of the empty house, or a family member who didn’t care that this was a crime scene. If he were lucky, the perpetrator had returned to the scene of the crime.

He stepped through the doorway of the master bedroom and stopped. A woman knelt beside an open wooden chest facing away from him, going through the contents. Like the rest of the house, the room had been trashed, but here, blood stained the light-colored carpet. The crime scene unit had already swept the house for evidence, but whoever she was, she clearly wasn’t supposed to be here.

“I want you to put your hands in the air and stand up slowly.” He held his weapon level and aimed it at her as she stood and turned toward him, clearly alarmed by his presence.

“Who are you?” she asked as she followed his instructions.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He took a step toward her. Recognition skirted his memory as he searched for a name. “Kate Elliot?”

Her frown deepened. “How do you know my name?”

“I know your sister. Wow. The two of you could be twins.”

“Irish twins, actually. We were born eleven months apart. But that doesn’t answer the question of what you’re doing here.”

He stopped midstride, and pulled back the front of his black tailored sports coat. “My name is Marcus O’Brian. I’m with the FBI, investigating what happened to your sister.”

He studied her briefly—shoulder-length, reddish-blond hair pulled up in a ponytail, intense hazel-colored eyes. Something struck him about the intensity of her posture, like a mama bear defending her cubs. But why not? Her sister had been shot and her niece was missing. And from her defiant expression, she didn’t believe he was one of the good guys.

“Why is the FBI involved?” she asked.

He lowered his weapon and reholstered it. He didn’t have evidence that Rachel was involved in her husband’s illegal activities, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep digging. “I can’t talk about that.”

“Do you know who shot her?”

“No...but I am sorry.” He knew she was hurting, but showing empathy had never been his strong point. “How is she?”

“She came out of surgery, but she’s still unconscious. And the last I heard there were still no firm leads on my niece’s whereabouts.”

“Were you here when she was shot?”

“No, but I was on my way. I found her here. Whoever shot her took Sophie and left Rachel to bleed to death.”

“Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt her?” he asked.

“No. I’ve already told the police everything I do know, which isn’t much.”

“Like I said, I’m not with the police.”

“Don’t you share information?”

“Yes, but I’m in the middle of a separate investigation connected to her husband.”

“Chad?” The fatigue in her eyes deepened. “Do you think Chad is behind my sister getting shot?”

“At this point, I have no idea. What I do know is that the FBI is currently investigating Chad for possible involvement in an open criminal case where your sister is a potential witness.” Or in his mind, a suspect, but he wasn’t going to bring that up at this time. “Do you think it’s possible your brother-in-law was involved in the shooting?”

“At this point, I’d believe almost anything, but I don’t think so. Chad can be a jerk, but he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. And besides, I can’t see him shooting Rachel, or taking Sophie, for that matter. He threatened to get a divorce once or twice, but as far as I know he’s never moved ahead with his threats. He wants to see Sophie, without the responsibility of raising her. Bottom line is I can’t see the point of him snatching her.”

“So what do you know?”

“I know that someone broke into this house looking for something.” Her gaze dropped as she fiddled with a loose thread on the edge of her purple T-shirt. Tense. Nervous. “I know that my sister is lying in ICU and my niece is gone. I know I probably shouldn’t be here, but I thought I might find some clue of what Rachel—and Chad—are mixed up in.”

He studied her expression. There was something she wasn’t telling him. “Do you know what they’re mixed up in?”

“No, but someone was clearly looking for something and I want to know what.”

Something unexpected triggered inside him as her expression softened. She might appear strong on the surface, but she was also clearly vulnerable. A part of him wanted to sweep her out of here and protect her from whatever she’d innocently walked into. Which was crazy. One, he had no idea if she really was innocent. And two, his job was to take down criminals, not simply to rescue pretty damsels in distress.

Marcus shoved aside the unexpected attraction. He’d watched his own family struggle to balance the stress of a career in law enforcement with relationships and too many of them hadn’t survived. Those who did, carried their own scars that he wanted nothing to do with. Nicole had managed to substantiate that conclusion when she forced him to choose between her and his career.

He shook his head at the unwanted memory. He needed to stay on track. “Has your sister traveled recently?”

Kate closed the lid of the trunk and sat down on it. “She went to Paris three months ago. I’ve been looking through her photos and journals to see if something happened there that might give me a clue as to what Chad might be involved in—or any suspicions she might have had—but so far, I can’t find anything out of the ordinary, except for one thing...”

“What is it?”

“It’s probably nothing, but I can’t find her passport, which is strange. Rachel’s very compulsive and orderly. She’s going to have a fit trying to put this house back together.”

“Where does she normally keep the passport?”

“At one time she kept it in this trunk, where she keeps a lot of her important papers like birth certificates and financial papers. She probably just moved it.”

“Do you think she’s involved with something illegal?” he asked.

“Rachel? Never.”

But he’d seen Rachel’s financials and knew her credit cards were maxed out and she was behind on her house payments. Money could be a powerful motivator. Which was why he couldn’t dismiss the possibility of her being involved in what happened today. Or that Kate Elliot knew more than she was letting on.

* * *

Kate stood up and started past the red stain on the carpet. Nausea swept through her. The room smelled like death and she needed some fresh air. “I need to return to the hospital. If I don’t take my mother home, she’ll stay there all night.”

“Wait...before you go, I need to ask you a few questions. It won’t take long. I promise.”

She hesitated, then reluctantly sat back down on the edge of the trunk. She was tired. Tired of the questions that she didn’t have answers for. Tired of waiting on an update from the hospital. Afraid of the panic that had yet to lessen. And this man, Marcus O’Brian, was simply adding to that panic.

“You and your sister are close?” he began.

“For the most part, yes.”

“What about Chad? How was their relationship?”

“That was a subject we didn’t talk about often. I didn’t think he was good enough for her and she resented that. So we avoided the subject.”

“Why didn’t you think he was good enough for her?”

Kate hesitated, wondering how her sister’s marital relationship was going to help find her shooter. She might not have thought he was the best choice for her sister to marry, but Rachel loved him and he was the father of their child.

“Please understand,” Marcus continued. “I realize I’m probing into something very personal, but the more I know about Chad and your sister, the easier it will be for me to find out the truth as to who was behind this. And for now, I can’t go to her with my questions.”

Kate let out a sharp sigh. “It bothered me that he put his job above his family. He traveled a lot, which meant he was gone more than he was home, something I know she resented. Especially because of Sophie.”

“Where did his job take him?”

“They have an apartment in Paris. He worked in both the US and Europe as a buyer. Occasionally he traveled to Africa.”

“And his traveling took a toll on their marriage?”

“It was more than just the traveling, but yes. Six months ago, he moved back to Paris. I think divorce was on the table, but there wasn’t anything official.”

“Did they still communicate?”

“Some. My sister went to Paris three months ago to try to see if they could give their marriage one last chance.”

“And when she returned, what did she tell you about the trip?”

“Not much, but it was clear that it didn’t go the way she’d hoped. I think she still loved him—that she still does—but it became clear to her that he had no intentions of settling down and giving her what she wanted.” Her gaze dropped to the stained spot on the carpet.

“What is it?”

Kate grabbed one of the throw pillows off the bed and hugged it against her chest, wishing he wasn’t able to read her so well. “While we were waiting for the ambulance, she told me Chad was scared about something.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. All Rachel said was that they would do anything to get what they wanted.” She looked up at him, the fear she’d been feeling all day gripping her tighter. “Do you know what Chad’s involved in?”

“Let me ask the questions for now. Later, I’ll answer those that aren’t classified.”

“Classified.” Kate shook her head, irritation weaving itself through the fear. “You sound like James Bond.”

“No. Real life doesn’t play out like the movies.”

No, it didn’t. And today had become an extreme example. One couldn’t simply go home once the credits rolled.

“Do you think Rachel knew what he was involved in?” he asked.

She tried not to show her resentment of the question. “No.”

Marcus took a step forward. “Did she ever mention being suspicious about his behavior?”

Kate shook her head. “You have to understand that I want to help, but there is nothing I can tell you that is going to help us find Sophie and my sister’s shooter. We need to talk to Chad. He’s got to know—”

“We?” Marcus shook his head. “What you need to do is let the police—and myself—handle this. We are looking for him right now, in fact, and when we find him, we’ll interview him. But you’re not a part of we.”

“But I know Chad.”

“And I know what happens when civilians try to get involved in police business. Trust me, it doesn’t work.”

“So you haven’t been able to locate Chad yet?”

He hesitated. “No.”

“Then what about Sophie?” she rushed on. “You have to know something. Have some lead as to where she might be. Sophie, she’s...she’s four years old, full of energy and has the biggest imagination I’ve ever seen. She’s silly and loves to tell jokes—”

“Kate—”

“She loves macaroni from the box and strawberry licorice,” Kate continued, as if she were pleading her case in court. She might sound desperate, but needed him to realize this wasn’t just some missing person, or some domestic dispute in another case he was working on. “Sophie loves Dora the Explorer, going to Sunday school. She can’t sleep without her one-eyed bunny, Lily.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “I don’t have an update about your niece, except...”

“What do you know?” she prodded.

“You told me your sister’s passport was missing.”

“Sophie’s has to be missing, as well.”

“We checked airline manifest lists since her father lives in France.” Hands clenched at her sides, she waited for him to continue. “Both passports were used to fly to Paris. A woman and a little girl, presumably your niece.”

A ball of emotion tangled inside Kate as she fought not to cry. “So Sophie’s in Paris?”

“That’s what we believe.”

Chad was AWOL... Sophie was missing...

Kate pressed her lips together, because at the moment, there only seemed to be one solution. No matter what Marcus O’Brian, with his perfect profile and piercing blue eyes, had said, she’d already made up her mind. There was only one person in her mind who had the answers. She needed to talk to Chad. Even if that meant flying to Paris and finding Chad herself.

TWO

At nine twenty-nine Wednesday morning, Central European time, Kate was already second-guessing herself and wondering—not for the first time—if flying halfway around the world had been a sane decision.

She clutched the strap of her pink tote bag and pressed through the crowded promenade running parallel to the famous Champs Elysées. Lined with boutiques, chic restaurants and fancy storefronts, it was exactly how she’d imagined Paris. But after thirteen hours of travel, two planes, the RER train into the city and a taxi, her decision seemed impulsive, even reckless. But what choice did she have? She needed answers. Needed to speak with Chad. Needed to find Sophie. Careless or not, she was still convinced that coming to Paris had been her only option. Chad was the key to finding Sophie.

Which was why there’d been little time to think through the consequences of her actions. She’d charged the airline ticket to her credit card, booked a hotel, then pulled out everything she had on Paris in her travel files. A quick check-in at her hotel after landing, along with a shower, had helped clear her mind, but it hadn’t quite managed to squelch the anxiety or the fear. Added to her list of frustrations was Marcus O’Brian, who had yet to give her an update on his investigation.

Not that he owed her one, she supposed, but a phone call from the man would go a long way. And not because he’d appeared in her dreams last night, or that she’d yet been unable to forget those blue eyes of his. She just needed someone on her side. So far the only person who’d seemed happy for her company had been the taxi driver who’d gladly exchanged her Euros for a neck-breaking race from her hotel to Chad’s place of employment.

Kate glanced at her map, then scanned the stone-cut buildings beside her with their decorative ironwork, looking for Anne-Loure, the jewelry shop where Chad worked. The taxi driver had dropped her off short of the shop, but she’d wanted the exercise and hopefully time to get her bearings. But apparently, he’d left her farther from the store than she’d intended. According to her map, the shop was still a half-dozen blocks away. Exploring the famed City of Lights and its history had always been on the top ten of her bucket list. But not this way.

Paris was supposed to be savored slowly while sipping a café au lait. Lazy afternoons strolling alongside the Seine or leisurely digesting the history of a local museum. Even now, she could sense the historic city’s energy. With its offering of historic sites like the Louvre, Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower, Paris was a mecca for tourists, artists and historians.

Kate blew out a sharp breath. This wasn’t exactly how she’d expected to spend her first trip to Paris. She and Kevin had decided on a twelve-day tour of Europe’s cities of lights for their honeymoon, including two nights each in Paris and Prague. A scenic river cruise along the Rhine, Heidelberg... It would have been the perfect honeymoon until Kevin ran off and married her best friend, who would have been the maid of honor at their wedding.

She’d always thought the story would make the perfect script for a romantic comedy—if it had a different ending. Something along the lines of jilted bride finds love with lonely best man or something like that, but in her case, there had been no lonely best man or happy ending. Just a lot of embarrassment and explanations as to why her fiancé was honeymooning with her best friend.

At least she hadn’t burned the contents of the honeymoon folder, because today she needed the spreadsheet with travel information, Google maps, online transportation websites, hotels and dozens of other details she’d collected and organized while planning their trip.

She was over Kevin. Their broken engagement seemed like a lifetime ago most days. And maybe now something good was going to come out of the situation. She’d traveled enough outside the United States to feel fairly confident as long as she had a map and cell phone in hand.

But as much as the city might beckon, she needed to stay focused on one thing and one thing only.

Finding Sophie.

She ran her finger across the photos of Sophie she’d stuck inside the cover of her travel guide—a reminder as to why she was here. Brown hair, bright blue eyes and a smile that melted your heart in two. This was why she was here. Because if anything happened to her—

Someone brushed against her shoulder. The hairs on her neck bristled. Kate stiffened as a long-haired teen walked away, not even acknowledging the incident. She shook off the eerie sensation. Marcus flashed through her mind, making her wish he was with her, but she quickly shoved away the image. He might have that classic tall, dark and handsome look going for him, and an overprotective vibe, too, but he was also a federal agent with an agenda. He believed Rachel was involved in something illegal. She’d seen it in his eyes, along with the suspicion toward herself. Which meant the man wasn’t worth the risk of a second look.

And she didn’t need him. Because no one was watching her. No one was after her. Lack of sleep, long hours of travel and the added guilt from being unable to protect her sister were messing with her mind.

But she couldn’t ignore the knot of fear that had settled into the pit of her stomach. She turned and glanced behind her. How was it possible that in a sea of pedestrians, she still felt as if she were being followed? She hesitated beneath the shade of a shop awning. Notre Dame loomed a few blocks away with its stunning stained glass windows and gargoyles. For a moment, she considered running to the safety and quiet of the historic church. But God could hear her constant prayers just as well here as in the middle of a cathedral. She forced her mind to focus. Speaking with Chad was her one priority right now.

Someone’s elbow jabbed her from behind. This time, her bag slipped from her shoulder and crashed to the sidewalk, its contents scattering across the pavement. She lunged for the pink MP3 player that had tumbled out and started to grab it, but the man hovering over her snatched it first.

Shaken, she stood up, hand outstretched, and caught the man’s steel gaze. When he still wouldn’t hand over the MP3, she chanced that he would understand English, and asked, “What do you want?”

He pulled back his jacket revealing the tip of the gun he was carrying. “I want you to come with me.”

The knot in her stomach tightened. She glanced around at the shoppers passing by. She could run, but if he caught her, she’d never be able to fight him.

She decided to scream.

Fingers dug into her arm as he dragged her toward the street. “Shut up and get in the car.”

She continued screaming as he shoved her into the backseat of a waiting car. Her elbow slammed against the door frame. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. They’d shot Rachel...taken Sophie... What in the world did they want with her?

She scrambled across the backseat, then lunged for the handle on the opposite side. The door was unlocked. He grabbed her foot, but she jerked away from his grasp and stumbled out of the car, still managing to grip her bag. But the action threw her into traffic. Cars whizzed by. The man scooted across the seat behind her. She slammed the door on him, but the driver was climbing out of the front of the vehicle.

Kate lunged out into the path of an oncoming taxi, then swerved to the left. There was no way she could cross the busy traffic without getting hit. She ran around the back of the car toward the sidewalk, hoping to lose herself in a sea of shoppers. Brakes squealed and a taxi missed her by inches, but the near accident barely registered.

What did they want with her?

For the first time, she wished she’d listened to Marcus. He’d been right. She should never have come. She had no business tracking down her sister’s shooter on her own. All she wanted was answers and justice and to get her niece back. Instead, she’d gotten herself involved in a situation where not only were her sister’s and Sophie’s lives at stake, but somehow she’d become tangled up in the mess.

A flock of pigeons scattered into the air in front of her. She turned onto a side street, disoriented without the help of the map. But she couldn’t take the time to pull it out. All she knew to do was to keep zigzagging through the narrow streets until she lost them. She could figure out where she was later.

Lungs screaming for air, she forced herself to keep running. She had no one to call. Nowhere to run for help. In a city of millions, she’d never felt so alone.

A car pulled up beside her. “Get in!”

Kate kept running, but something made her pause and turn. Marcus sat in the driver’s seat.

“Get in the car,” he repeated.

Still out of breath, Kate slid into the car and dropped her bag onto the floorboard, too scared to ask questions. Too scared to consider the fact that she might not be trusting the right person.

* * *

Marcus pressed on the accelerator as he pulled into the heavy traffic and tried to bite back his irritation. Kate Elliot was supposed to be five thousand miles away in Dallas, Texas. Not trying to track down her sister’s shooter on her own here in Paris. No. From what he remembered, he’d given her specific instruction that she was to let him and the police handle the investigation of her sister’s attempted murder. Flying to Paris in search of her niece—as she’d clearly done—had not been an option. But for the moment, he couldn’t worry about what she’d done or why she was here. He needed to get her somewhere safe.

Marcus changed lanes and sped down the avenue, weaving in and out of traffic, hoping he’d catch sight of the vehicle that had tried to snatch her. But as much as he wanted to catch whoever had tried to grab her, for the moment her safety needed to be the priority. Because chasing down the bad guys with Kate Elliot at his side wasn’t a good idea.

“Are they following us?” he asked.

She looked back. “I don’t know. The cars...they all look the same.”

“It was a dark compact—”

“They’re all compact cars...or taxis.”

“I need a description, Kate. A license plate number—something I was unable to get. We need to find those guys.”

His irritation grew. They were the reason he was here. He needed to catch those guys and now he’d somehow ended up saddled with Kate and needing to think about her protection.

Which raised even more questions than he had answers. Like how did they know she’d be here in the first place?

“I was on my way to Chad’s store.”

“I was just there. He didn’t come in to work today.”

“You think they’re still after us?” she asked, her voice ragged.

“I managed to find you, and I don’t think they’re simply going to give up. So yes. There’s a good chance they’re still back there.”

“They had a gun...” Her jaw was set, determined, but she still sounded as if she were about to hyperventilate. “They shoved me into a car.”

“I know. I was driving by when you came flying out of that car into the traffic. You’re lucky you weren’t killed. I don’t know what you were thinking—”

Someone smashed into the back of his rental car, shoving both of them forward.

Marcus gripped the steering wheel as he swerved to avoid a collision with the car in front of him. “Hang on, Kate. I think we just found them.”

THREE

They’d found them.

“Marcus!”

Kate could hear the edge of panic in her voice. Gripping the armrest with her fingers, she tried not to hyperventilate as the car rammed into them a second time. She winced as her head hit the side of the car. Marcus would get them out of this. He had to. And she had no choice but to trust him. They were just trying to scare them. But why? None of it made sense. They already had Sophie. What else did they want?

Please, God...all I want to do is find Sophie and make sure she’s safe. But I don’t even know what is going on.

“What do they want?” Kate spoke her question out loud, her arms braced for another impact.

“I don’t know. Are you sure it’s them?”

She glanced back again and caught sight of the bald head of the man who’d tried to grab her off the street. She’d recognize him anywhere. “Yes. Besides, I can’t believe this is just a coincidence.”

Marcus’s jaw tensed, the vein in his neck pulsing, as he sped down a one-way street lined with bikes and motorcycles. Pedestrians strolled down the sidewalk, casting glances as they sped past. He slowed down as he came to a busy intersection, and managed to merge into traffic without stopping.

Kate dug her nails into the armrest, willing the car to go faster. “We need to lose them.”

“Not yet. Keep your eye on them. I need a license plate.”

“A license plate?” She craned her neck so she could see out the back window and squinted as she tried to read the plate. The car behind them sped forward, hitting again.

Her seat belt caught as her body snapped forward.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I got the license.” Kate scrambled for a pen then wrote down the number on her hand.

“Good, because now I need you to make a call.”

“The police?”

“I’m working with French intelligence. They’ll be able to get us some backup.”

Her hands shook as she grabbed his phone, which was sitting between them.

Marcus kept his eyes on the road beside her, weaving in and out of traffic, with the car still on their tail. “Scroll through the favorites contacts and look for Pierre. Make the call, then put it on speakerphone so I can talk to him.”

A moment later, a man with a heavy French accent answered. “Bonjour?”

“Pierre, it’s Marcus.”

“Did you find Chad?”

“No, but I did run into his sister-in-law.”

Kate felt her fear morphing into anger as Marcus explained the situation while speeding through the heart of Paris. She glanced out the back window again. This time there was no sign of the other car.

“I’ll let you know what I find out about the license plate,” Pierre said.

“Good,” Marcus said. “I’ll meet you at the safe house in thirty minutes.”

Pierre hung up and the line went dead. Kate clicked off the phone and set it down. “We’ve lost them.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded as she caught the hint of anger in his eyes. He’d warned her not to come. Told her to stay in Dallas and let him and the police handle the situation. And she’d done the opposite. And potentially almost got them both killed.

“I’m sorry,” she started.

“Sorry? This fiasco you just involved us both in could have got us killed.”

* * *

Marcus drove around the block three times until he was certain they’d lost their tail—and his anger had managed to subside slightly—before heading toward the safe house.

He glanced at her expression out of the corner of his eye. He could tell she was upset. Her hands were still shaking and her face had paled to a snowy-white color. At least she’d found the courage to do what he’d asked her to, but that didn’t excuse the fact that she’d disobeyed his instructions and flown halfway around the world on some mad quest to save her niece. If the police hadn’t been able to find the young girl yet with all of their resources, why in the world did she assume she could?

And how had her situation somehow managed to penetrate his normally fortified heart?

He mentally discarded the last question to deal with later. Or not at all. His focus was on closing this case. Period.

“Do you know where we are?” Kate asked.

He fought back a sharp retort. Before she jumped on his navigational skills, she had some explaining to do. “Yes. And I’m taking you to a safe house.”

“I checked into a hotel this morning. I’ll be fine there.”

“If they can find you on the street, don’t you think they can find you at your hotel?”

The question silenced her.

He gripped the steering wheel, regretting the tone of his response. He needed time to think, because he didn’t have time to take on her responsibility on top of everything else. But now he was going to have to arrange to send her back to the United States and ensure her safety in the meantime.

He kept his gaze straight ahead, watching the maze of cars around him while at the same time glancing frequently into the rearview mirror to ensure they weren’t being followed again. “I know you’re scared, but I need some answers. Start from the beginning. What in the world are you doing in Paris?”

“I—”

“Because I remember specifically telling you to stay in Dallas with your sister,” he continued, not giving her a chance to answer. “And yet somewhere you got the crazy notion that you could take care of things by yourself.”

A taxi flew past them, forcing him to swerve into another lane, adding to the tension in his gut. The next time he went out he was going to forget driving, stick to Pierre’s advice and use public transportation. Because if whoever was after them didn’t get them both killed, driving in Paris certainly could.

Her voice matched his own frustration when she finally answered his question. “What did you expect me to do? Sit in that hospital and wait? The doctors aren’t sure Rachel will ever wake up. And no one has found Sophie yet.”

“Listen.” He worked to soften his voice. “I really do understand that this is hard for you, but it’s not your job to go running after a bunch of felons. You’re lucky you’re not dead, because these guys mean business.” He glanced at her again, fighting to hold in his irritation. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself involved in.”

“I didn’t choose to get involved in this.”

She might be right, but his anger had yet to fully alleviate. “Even so, it didn’t mean you should just hop on a plane to track down a man with known criminal ties.”

She stared straight ahead out the window at the passing shops, her frown deepening. “It seemed like the right thing to do twenty-four hours ago.”

“This isn’t a game, Kate. You saw your sister. And you saw what happened just now. These guys play to win.”

“Do you think I don’t realize that?” She gripped the door handle and turned to him. “They just tried to grab me off the street in broad daylight.”

“I saw them grab you. That’s why I came after you.” Marcus slowed to a stop, waited for the pedestrians to cross, then turned into the underground parking garage and proceeded down the narrow entrance, which explained why all cars in this city were compact.

“Tell me what I should do now.” Her voice shook, despite the determination in her voice.

He squeezed into an empty parking space, then shut off the motor, his mind still running through his options regarding what he was going to do with her. His first choice was to send her back to Dallas on the next flight.

“We’ve got a safe house set up. You can stay there until I can get you a flight back to the States.”

“I’m not going back.”

He frowned, but he hadn’t expected an easy fight. “You don’t have a choice, and besides, you’ll be safe—”

“Safe?” She unbuckled her seat belt and turned to him, the panic in her voice back. “I’m not sure there is anywhere safe. They found Rachel. And now, for some reason, they think I’m involved and found me here. And the crazy thing is that I don’t even know who I’m running from. But I do have a choice as to whether I stay or not.”

“I told you not to get involved, and from what I’ve seen this morning, I was right.”

“And you think I’ll be safer in Dallas? My sister wasn’t safe.”

“Listen, Kate. I know you’re scared.” He pulled out the keys from the ignition and clutched them between his fingers. Arguing wasn’t going to get them anywhere for the moment. He needed to change the subject. “Can you think of any reason why they would come after you?”

Marcus’s phone rang again. He picked it up. Pierre.

“Give me a second,” he told her. “I’ll walk you up to the apartment.”

He stepped out of the car. “Hey. What have you got?”

“The car you asked me to look up was stolen.”

“Figures.”

“And the girl?”

“She’s with me. Safe for the moment.”

“What are you going to do with her?”

“My plan is to ship her out on the next flight back to the United States. I don’t have time to babysit.”

“Not so fast. We might need her.”

Marcus leaned against the car and shook his head. “Why? She’s just arrived in the country and brought me nothing but trouble.”

“My point exactly. Why are they after her? Neither of us believe in coincidences, so she has to be connected to the case somehow.”

Marcus tapped his fingers on the side of the car, unconvinced. He’d meant it when he’d told her she should leave things up to the authorities. He started pacing the small space between his car and the next. “I don’t know.”

“You know I’m right. Bring her to the safe house, and let her stay there. You can try to find out what she knows. Use her as a bridge to find Chad.”

“I’m not going to assume responsibility for her.”

“What’s wrong with playing the hero who saves the damsel in distress, as you Americans seem to love so much? We need a break in the case, and she might be exactly what we’re looking for.”

Marcus rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, ignoring the hero-damsel comparison. According to Kate, she didn’t need a hero to sweep in and save her. Which was fine with him. But maybe Pierre did have a point. If she stayed in Paris, he might be able to get some information out of her and keep his eye on her at the same time. For as much as he didn’t like the idea, as far as he was concerned, Kate Elliot needed someone to look after her.

* * *

Kate watched Marcus pace outside the car, cell phone pressed against his ear, his frown deepening. She knew he was talking about her. More than likely, he was having his friend book the next flight out of the country for her. But if Sophie was here, she was going to do everything in her power to help find her niece. And there was nothing Marcus could do to stop her.

When he finally slipped back into the car, she was ready to argue her case. “I’m not leaving Paris.”

“That’s fine.”

“That’s fine?” Kate paused. “You’re not taking me to the airport?”

“That was my first choice, but Pierre convinced me that we might be able to use you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Whoever tried to grab you today clearly thinks you are connected to the case somehow. I want to know how. And in exchange, you get a safe place to stay.”

Five minutes later, Kate stepped out of the small elevator onto the fourth floor of the apartment building, into a lit hallway with three doors, still unsure if she was happy with the situation. But if it kept her safe and in Paris, maybe it was time to stop arguing.

Marcus pressed the buzzer of apartment 403, then waited beside her until a man wearing a suit opened up the door and ushered them inside.

“This is Pierre Durand.” Marcus introduced the man. “He’s with French intelligence, working on the same case I am. He also speaks perfect English.”

The older man pushed back his glasses and grinned. “From living in Boston for three years.”

Kate shook the man’s hand and realized her own was still trembling. She pulled her hand back then glanced around the tiny apartment’s living room with its mismatched table and chairs and eclectic collection of artwork on the walls. Even the late-morning sunlight streaming through two large windows wasn’t enough to lighten her somber mood.

Her gaze shifted back to the other agent. The reality of why she was here hit afresh like an aftershock. She needed a few minutes alone to get her emotions in check.

“You’ll find the apartment small, but sufficient. And safe,” Pierre assured her. “It’s completely off the grid.”

“It’s...perfect. Would you mind if I used the restroom?”

“Of course not.” Pierre nodded. “It’s straight ahead through the door on the left.”

Once inside the narrow room, Kate sat down on the closed toilet seat and rested her hands against her thighs, trying to stop her legs from shaking. Marcus might be used to going after the bad guys, but she wasn’t. Which was why he’d been right. Maybe she should be on the next flight back to the United States. She could still feel the man’s steel grip on her arm and hear the cars whizzing past her as she’d fled through the heavy traffic.

If she hadn’t escaped the vehicle... If Marcus hadn’t rescued her... No. She shook her head. She couldn’t let her mind go there. They might still be after her, but for now she was safe—even if she wasn’t completely comfortable with her rescuer.

Clearly, she had trust issues, springing from the fact that most men in her life hadn’t exactly lived up to her expectations. That group primarily included Kevin, who she’d once seen as her hero.

She clenched her fingers together. The bottom line was that she was scared. Scared that her by and large orderly world had spun out of control to the point that no one—not even the far-too-handsome Agent O’Brian—would be able to set it right again.

Her phone rang, disrupting her tremulous thoughts.

She answered the call, determined to keep her voice even. “Mom?”

“Kate? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

Kate wiped her cheek then pressed her palm against her thigh. “I’m okay. What time is it there?”

“Around five. I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to make sure you arrived safe.”

“I did. I’m...I’m fine.” She wasn’t going to tell her mom what had happened. The last thing she needed was a second daughter to worry about. “What’s the latest news on Rachel?”

“I’m at the hospital now.” There was a long pause on the line. “There’s been no change. And no news on the search for Sophie, either.”

“I know, Mom, and I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“I still can’t believe what happened, but for the moment, I’m worried about you. I don’t think you should have left.”

Kate rubbed the back of her neck, trying to iron out the knots that had formed the past twenty-four hours. She knew her mom was hurting. The last thing she wanted to do was add to her worry.

“You understand that I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing, Mom.”

“Did you find Chad?”

“No. He’s not answering his phone. I think he’s avoiding me.”

“I always knew he wasn’t good for Rachel.”

“We don’t know that he’s behind this—”

“Then why isn’t he here with Rachel, or at least out looking for his daughter?”

“I don’t know, Mom. But I promise I’ll call you if I find out anything. Just don’t worry about me. I’m safe. In fact, I’m here right now with the agent I met at Rachel’s house. Agent O’Brian. He’s promised to help, and to keep me safe. We’re going to find a way through this.”

Kate hung up the call a minute later and drew in a deep breath. For Rachel’s sake—for all of them—she was going to have to pull herself together if she was going to find Sophie.

FOUR

Marcus glanced at his watch, then knocked on the door of the restroom, worried about Kate. “Kate, are you okay?”

She blew her nose. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

His mind kept switching back and forth from relief that she was safe to anger over the fact that she clearly had no idea how to follow instructions. She’d almost gotten herself kidnapped. Or worse. Which was why—no matter what Pierre might have convinced him—he still believed she had no business being here in Paris, no business trying to track down a killer on her own and especially no business worming her way into his heart.

Because he knew how that scenario was going to end before it even started.

He drummed his fingers against his legs, irritated he’d allowed the thought to even cross his mind. He’d learned a hard lesson with Nicole. She’d become the perfect example of how mixing romance and a high-stress job was nothing more than a recipe for failure. He’d once believed—even if it had been briefly—that she was the one. Beautiful in an exotic way, she’d managed to turn his world upside-down in the few months they’d known each other. He’d decided she was worth the risk, but he’d been wrong. Very wrong.

Nicole had forced him to choose between his career and her. He’d tried to convince her there didn’t need to be a choice, but she clearly hadn’t agreed. She’d told him she was tired of his busy schedule, of him not being there when she needed him and of constantly worrying he’d be shot...or worse.

Marcus stared at the closed door. Kate, though, was nothing like Nicole.

He erased that last thought—something he was doing far too often—because the bottom line was that it really didn’t matter what she was like. He moved across the room to look out the window onto the quiet street below, lined with apartments, cafés and a small neighborhood grocery store. He’d always loved Paris. There was something about the people, centuries of history and even the endless miles of subways that had intrigued him. He was used to traveling and dealing with the local authorities. What he hadn’t expected was the emotional reaction this case had managed to bring with it.

And Kate Elliot was at the root of that unexpected response.

“She’s pretty,” Pierre said as Marcus stared out the window.

Marcus turned to the Frenchman. “She’s a handful.”

“I think I’d be enjoying the challenge, if I were you.”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

Pierre’s eyes widened. “You seem to be taking this case rather personally.”

Marcus swallowed his frustration. “It’s personal because I’ve been working this for a long time. Every time I think we’re about to close in on another lead, something goes wrong. At this point, Chad Laurent is our best lead, but now his wife is lying in the hospital, his daughter is missing and we can’t find him. Something’s wrong.”

Pierre nodded at the bathroom door. “Does she know Chad’s connection to the diamonds and weapons smuggling?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t told her anything about that.”

“I still say we use her to get to Chad.”

Marcus lowered his voice. “And I still don’t want her to be bait.”

“She’s the man’s sister-in-law. Maybe she can help us bring him in, because frankly, we can’t afford to let him get away again. She might be the best chance we’ve got.”

“I don’t know.”

“You know I’m right. Don’t let your sense of chivalry get under your skin and taint the situation. Like I told you on the phone, we need her.”

Marcus frowned. His negative reaction to Pierre’s suggestion had nothing to do with chivalry or shows of gallantry. He was simply doing his job. Nothing more, nothing less. Kate had already managed to get herself into enough trouble on her own. How much more of a mess would she get into if they used her to hunt down Chad?

Two minutes later, Kate stepped into the living room, looking more put together than when he’d first found her on the street. He could tell she’d been crying, but he didn’t blame her. She was lucky she was still alive. The guys who’d been after her played for keeps.

And despite his frustration toward her, he had to give her some credit. She was smart, intuitive and clearly took the initiative. Three characteristics he admired. But that admiration of Kate’s characteristics was bound to get him into a heap of trouble if he didn’t stop now and rein in his meandering thoughts.

“How about I run across the street and get some coffee and sandwiches for the three of us?” Pierre offered. “I don’t know about you, but I missed breakfast.”

Marcus nodded. “Thanks. That would be nice.”

He sat down on the edge of a plaid, padded armchair in the living room, feeling awkward as Pierre left them alone. But it was time to get to work. He had a number of questions to ask, and he needed answers. Not that this was an interrogation, not officially at least, but there were things he wanted to know before they could go any further and he was convinced she knew things that could help him find Chad.

“Why don’t you sit down. If it hasn’t already, jet lag will be hitting you soon.”

She nodded, then sat down on the couch across from him.

He reached into his briefcase, pulled out Rachel’s journal and photo albums, and set them on the wooden coffee table between them.

Kate’s gaze narrowed as she recognized them. “You read her journal?”

“It’s evidence.”

“Evidence?” Kate stood up and started pacing in front of him. “Do you know how upset my sister would be knowing the government is reading her private thoughts?”

Marcus tapped the floor with his foot at the fumble he’d clearly just made. This wasn’t the way to get her to help him. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t have too much to worry about. So far, I haven’t been able to decipher much of it.”

“My sister has her own kind of shorthand.”

“So I’ve discovered. I was hoping you would be able to help me interpret it. Do you think you can read it?”

She stopped pacing and caught his gaze. “It’s my sister’s journal.”

“I know, but you want to find your niece.” He opened the book to a marked page, then handed it to her. “For example, who’s Ace? She mentions him around the time she was in Paris.”

“I don’t know. Rachel...she always makes up nicknames for people.”

“Like?”

“Growing up she called me Kit Kat. Sophie’s always been Pumpkin.”

“And Chad?”

“She called him Beau.”

“So this name...Ace...could be anyone.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I really don’t know. Why do you want to find him?”

“I’m the one asking the questions for the moment.”

She plopped back onto the couch. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the enemy here. I will do anything I can to help my sister and find my niece—including working with you—but I don’t know why that needs to include an interrogation.”

“I’m sorry.” Marcus pinched the bridge of his noise. He needed to quit saying he was sorry, as much as he needed her to understand he was trying to help. “This isn’t an interrogation. Listen. I’ll make you a deal. Let me ask you what I need to know, then I’ll answer anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

His phone rang, and he grabbed it out of his front pocket. She was right. She didn’t deserve to be put in a position where she felt like the enemy.

A moment later he hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. “Our conversation will have to wait. They need me down at the station in regards to that stolen car that chased us.”

She scooted forward on the couch. “I’ll come with you—”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He tried to ignore the disappointment in her eyes. “Pierre is on his way with lunch, along with one of the female French agents, who will stay here with you until I get back.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she shot back.

“If I remember correctly, you were needing a bit of help when I showed up.”

Her frown deepened, making him feel guilty again for provoking her.

“Kate, please. I’m not trying to argue with you.” He paused while trying to categorize his thoughts. “This isn’t personal. I just want to keep you safe.”

Except it was becoming personal. No matter how he tried to keep things strictly business, his heart wasn’t complying. She stared up at him with those wide eyes, making him want to draw her into his arms and promise her that he’d fix everything. Which irritated him all the more. He’d never had problems keeping his professional life separate from his personal life. Kate Elliot was just another case. A source he might be able to use to his advantage.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

But if that was true, then why did his heart wish he could stay?

* * *

Kate’s phone rang, jolting her awake. She opened her eyes and stared at the sunlight filtering through flowery drapes, trying to figure out where she was. Her mind clicked through the events of the past forty-eight hours in rapid succession. Rachel’d been shot. Sophie was missing. She was in Paris. And Marcus... She still wasn’t sure what to think about the too-good-looking agent.

She grabbed the phone off the bedside table of the room she’d been given. Marcus had left the apartment after a call, leaving her with Jocelyn and Pierre, who’d thankfully left her alone for the most part without hounding her with too many more questions. After lunch, Jocelyn, the forty-something-year-old agent with ebony skin and dark brown eyes, had suggested Kate take a short nap until Marcus returned in order to fight off the jet lag, and Kate had agreed.

She checked the caller ID.

Chad?

Kate’s stomach lurched as she quickly sat up and answered the phone. “Chad? Where are you?”

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” he said.

She glanced at the closed door of her bedroom and lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved? Rachel was shot, and you’re telling me that I shouldn’t have gotten involved?”

“I’m sorry.” There was a long pause on the line. “All of this is my fault.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then at least tell me where you are. We need to talk.”

“We can’t meet.”

“I’m not here to play games, Chad. You owe me an explanation.”

“Who’s the man you were with this morning?”

He knew about Marcus?

“What man?” she asked.

“You got into a car with him.”

“He’s just a friend. Someone I met back in the States recently.” She might not be sure what to think about the good-looking agent, but that didn’t mean Chad needed to know she was helping the FBI. Not yet, anyway. “How do you know?”

“That doesn’t matter, but don’t lie to me, Kate. He’s with the authorities.”

She hesitated briefly. “They want to make sure I’m safe. Your friends...or whoever they were...tried to grab me off the street.”

“I’m sorry about that, but I can’t have the police involved.”

“You keep saying you’re sorry.” Kate heard her voice rise a notch. “But sorry doesn’t exactly cut it. Just tell me where Sophie is, and I’ll be happy to leave. With her.”

“I don’t know. You have to believe me. I never meant for any of this to happen. They...” His voice trailed off.

“They what, Chad?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m in far too deep.”

Kate frowned, but she wasn’t about to give up. She needed a different approach. “I have a feeling we can help each other. Please.”

Another long pause followed. Kate’s heart pounded. She had to make this work.

“Chad?”

“I’ll talk to you, if you come alone. You’ll have to make sure you aren’t followed.”

“I’ll do anything you say, if it helps find Sophie.”

“Can you get to Notre Dame by two o’clock?”

Kate glanced at the clock on the bedside table. That would give her an hour. The safe house was in the Latin Quarter, and while she wasn’t sure how far it was, walking should be an option. “I’ll be there.”

“But, Kate...if I find out that you have a tail, I’ll disappear and I promise, you’ll never see me again.”

* * *

Marcus walked down the crowded street in the heart of the Latin Quarter from the metro and was reminded as to why he loved this city. The safe house they’d secured was located in an eighteenth-century building, a perfect place to disappear. Winding cobblestone streets were filled with quaint cafés, restaurants, boutiques and open markets, along with famous museums and squares. To anyone who saw him walking toward the historic apartment building, he was just another happy tourist here on holiday.

“Marcus?” Pierre’s voice came through his radio earpiece, reminding him he wasn’t here to relax. The lead he’d gone in for had been nothing more than another dead end. It was time they finished this.

Marcus pushed on the earpiece. “Go ahead, Pierre.”

“I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Something tells me I’m not going to like this.”

Marcus stopped in front of a pasta restaurant with a wide red awning and tables, filled with customers, set up along the sidewalk. “What’s going on?”

“Kate received a phone call, then slipped out of the apartment—”

“She what?”

“Jocelyn and I were in the kitchen talking. We thought she was still in her room on the phone.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Marcus started walking again, quickening his pace down the street toward the apartment. “What in the world was she thinking?”

“We’re thinking one of two things. Either Chad called or the kidnappers called.”

Marcus agreed. More than likely, neither of them would want the authorities involved. And as for Kate, his clear, simple instructions to stay put the next hour hadn’t been enough.

“How long ago?”

“Five...ten minutes at the most. She’s not answering her phone, but she’s headed in the direction of Notre Dame.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s the good news. We just managed to catch up with her.” Pierre gave him their location. “She’s a block ahead of us.”

“Then you need to catch up with her and bring her in.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Pierre began.

Marcus frowned. “What do you mean?”

As far as he was concerned, the best idea would have been to go with his gut instincts and already have her on the next flight to the United States. She clearly didn’t trust him, which was going to make it difficult to get her to help them.

“I say we keep following her without her knowing we’re onto her and see who she’s going to meet. Because if we step in now, we could very easily blow a potentially huge lead.”

“No way.” Marcus paused at the intersection with a group of pedestrians waiting for the light to change. “This morning these goons tried to grab her off the street, which means they know she’s here. If we let her go without any kind of plan in place, we can’t make any guarantees about her safety.”

Once again, he had to give her credit for the fact that she was gutsy, and would clearly do anything to find her niece. But if it was the kidnappers she was planning to meet, they were looking at an entirely different scenario. Pulling her out now seemed like the wisest decision, because either way, he wasn’t willing to put Kate’s life at risk again.

He felt another line of defense crack within him. Why was it that those very strengths she was demonstrating right now were managing to make it so hard for him to separate personal from business? Because whether or not he wanted to admit it, she was managing to find a way through that fortified heart of his.

“And if your plan doesn’t work?” Marcus finally asked. “It’s too dangerous. She’s emotional, tired and running on adrenaline. Add jet lag to the mix and we’re simply asking for trouble.”

“Dangerous?” Pierre asked.

“What if we lose her?”

Half a dozen scenarios flashed through his mind, including her being snatched up by a bunch of thugs who sold illegal weapons for a living.

“I don’t know about the qualifications of your FBI, but we were trained for situations like this.”

“You’re the one who lost her in the first place.” The light turned and Marcus hurried across the street.

“Funny. Risks are a reality in any situation, Marcus. You can’t tie the girl to a chair and expect her to sit still.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think we should risk her life unnecessarily—”

“And if someone is watching her, contacting her now could actually put her life at risk. If she calls and tells you her plans, great. But until then, we’re going to follow at a distance until we find out who she’s meeting.”

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