French Connection Vol. 3 Read Free

like a bucket of ice water, far colder than Gavin's skin.
    The hands that had been clutching at his wet shirt now pushed him away. His mouth tore away from mine and I saw the surprise in his eyes as he took a step back. I shoved him harder, putting some force into it this time.
    “What the hell, Carrie?” He stared at me.
    The anger his kiss had chased away came back with a vengeance. I wanted to scream at him, tell him I didn't want him kissing me after he'd just been doing the same to Alizee. I wanted to yell at him for lying to me, accuse him of sneaking around behind my back.
    Then I heard Pierre's voice in the back of my head, warning me what would happen if I told. I thought about all the people who would suffer if we were right about Alizee. If she was able to hide her operation because I couldn't put others above my personal life, I'd never forgive myself.
    I went with the first excuse I could think of. “I feel like shit,” I snapped. “It hurts to sit or lay down because you spanked me yesterday.”
    Gavin flinched, his eyes filling with hurt. It cut my heart, but I couldn't take it back, not without spilling everything. Besides, the anger inside me needed to go somewhere.
    “My nipples hurt and I have a fucking hickey on my neck like I'm some high school slut whose boyfriend couldn't control himself.” I put my hand over the mark I hadn't bothered to use concealer on.
    Even as I said it, I hated myself for lying. I loved that he'd claimed me, that he said I was his. True, my ass did sting and my nipples were chafing against my bra, but the sensations turned me on more than they hurt. They were reminders of last night and how Gavin had let himself go.
    “Carrie?”
    The expression on his face was one of shock and pain. The way he said my name almost made me break, but then I remembered what it had felt like when I'd seen him kissing Alizee.
    “I just need some space.” I turned away before he could see the tears threatening to spill over. I was halfway to the room when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, finally thinking to ask, “Why are you so wet?” But before I could ask the question, my phone rang.
    I grabbed it out of my pocket, desperate for a distraction. I didn't even care if it was a sales call. I'd talk to anyone at the moment if it meant a few more minutes of not having to look at Gavin.
    “Hello?” I answered without looking at the caller ID.
    “Carrie?”
    I instantly recognized Pierre's voice and a flare of annoyance went through me. Was he calling to check up on me?
    “What?” I was definitely not in the mood to deal with him acting like I was some kid who needed to be handled.
    “Did you tell him?”
    “No. Now, what do you want?” As much as I hated to admit it, at least being pissed at him was a diversion, helping keep my mind off of the fact that I could feel Gavin's eyes on me.
    “I have a file you need to see.” Pierre didn't seem too concerned with my attitude. “Do you want to meet tomorrow?”
    I saw my out and took it. “Now's better.”
    “Really?” Pierre sounded surprised, with a hint of amusement. “I had the impression you were quite cross with me.”
    “That's one way to put it,” I said dryly. “But if it's that important to you, I'll come now.”
    “Shall we meet at your hotel?”
    “No,” I said. “The Jean Luc Pele La Table.” I named one of the smaller restaurants I'd seen in Cannes.
    “I will be there shortly.”
    I hung up the phone, took a shaky breath and turned to face Gavin again. One glance at his face, however, told me I wouldn’t be able to look at him. He was pale and his hands were clenched into fists.
    “I have to go.”
    “It's him, isn't it? That journalist.” Gavin's voice was hard. “You're going to see him again?”
    My lips flattened. Funny… him acting like it was a big deal that I wanted to go meet Pierre when he'd been lip-locking with Alizee not more than an hour ago.
    “Is that what this is about?” he asked as