The French Detective's Woman (38 page)
She was almost afraid to ask. “What kind of offer?”
“Immunity.” He touched her cheek. “For you and Valois.”
She gaped. Not believing her ears. “What exactly are you saying?”
“You’re not really under arrest. That was just for Villalobo’s benefit, so he wouldn’t think you and Valois had betrayed him.”
She blinked again. And darted a glance at Valois. He was laughing and slapping his cop on the shoulder like they were the best of friends as they turned to leave. Catching her gaze, he gave her a cheerful wave. “Come by the shop in a few days,
ma petite
. Right now, I have a date with a very large cognac.”
With that, he and the cop walked off toward the elevator.
She was so stunned her only thought was, “He looks remarkably cheerful for a man who just lost twelve million euros.”
“He didn’t,” Jean-Marc said.
“But...”
He clucked his tongue. “Twenty-first century rule number three. Never use wireless technology to do important transactions. Too easy for bad guys—or cops—to tap into.”
“You stopped the transfer?”
“In mid-air.”
Gladness soared for a split second, but then deflated. “That was only half the money. Beck took—”
“
Brigadier
Louis Beck was arrested on his way out of the casino.” His eyes softened. “Don’t worry, Ciara. Valois’s money is safe and sound. And so is Sofie, now.”
“Thank God,” she said, closing her eyes against the flood of emotion that hit her at the news.
Could it really be over
?
She battled back tears that threatened, and whispered, “Thank you, Jean-Marc.”
He peered down at her, a funny little smile on his face. “My pleasure.”
Suddenly, she realized they were all alone in the ominously silent corridor. Her heartbeat kicked up.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she quietly asked. “You could have trusted me.”
“Why didn’t you tell
me
?” he echoed. “You could have trusted me, too.”
They gazed at each other for a long moment.
“Point taken,” she whispered, properly chastised. “It won’t happen again.”
“No?”
“Never.” She’d learned her lesson the hard way. When you loved someone you trusted them. Completely. No matter what.
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
A warm, melting sensation burrowed itself into her heart. Did that mean they had a future?
“I’m really not under arrest?” she asked again, her voice coming out a bit breathier than she’d intended.
“You’re really not.”
She jingled her wrists. “Then why am I still in handcuffs?”
The corners of his lips curled up. “I could take them off.” He stepped closer, raised a brow. “Or...not.”
Her breath sucked in. The man was incorrigible. “Isn’t there something we need to discuss first?”
She had to know. Now. Before this went any further. Despite the fact that her body was little by little dissolving under his slow, half-lidded perusal.
“Oh? And what would that be?” he asked.
He knew damn well what that would be. He was taunting her. Deliberately. The rogue.
“The blackjack game. Your final hand...”
He leisurely raised his fingers to the edge of her gown’s plunging neckline and touched it. Not her. The fabric.
“You want to renege on that bet?”
She swallowed. As much as it killed her, she had to do this.
“Yes. Well, half the bet,” she said. “I don’t want—”
Her words choked off as his hand slid under the slippery silk, enveloping her breast. Goosebumps shimmered over her flesh, the nipple hardening and shrieking with pleasure.
She licked her lips. His eyes zeroed in on the movement. “You don’t want...?” he prompted.
How could she ever live without this? Without his touch? Without his love? Her heart filled to bursting with the knowledge that everything she ever wished for, everything she ever needed, was right here, within her grasp. Jean-Marc. That’s all that mattered to her.
But he had to understand how much he meant to her.
“The money,” she whispered, her lips meeting his. “I don’t want the money. All I ever want is you, Jean-Marc.”
Under hers, his mouth curved. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Because I already gave it to the Orphans.”
She laughed softly, happily. Her job was finally done. Her kids were taken care of, their futures secure. Now she could at last look to her own.
She leaned into his long, languid kiss. It went on and on, until her knees were jelly and her body was on fire for want of him.
“Jean-Marc?” she whispered, hoping his suite wasn’t far.
He lifted his mouth to change angles. “Hmmm?”
“About these handcuffs...”
~The end~
Thank you so much for reading The
French Detective’s Woman
. I hope you liked the story of Jean-Marc and Ciara!
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About the author Nina Bruhns
#1 Bestselling Romantic Suspense author Nina Bruhns' adventurous romantic thrillers contain a unique blend of interesting characters and settings, twisty suspense and sizzling romance. To date she has published over 25 award-winning novels.
Awards and honors for Ms. Bruhns' books have included two RITA nominations, three Daphne du Maurier Awards for the Year's Best Overall Mystery-Suspense Book, two Romantic Times Reviewer Awards for Best Book of the Year, a National Readers Choice Award, an Eppie Award, and five Dorothy Parker Awards, just to name a few.
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