The Paris Caper Read Free

wanted the fils
de pute behind bars. The officer in charge of the case, Commissaire Saville, was good, but somewhat unimaginative. As a commissaire ,
normally Jean-Marc didn’t work investigations himself, he delegated and ran
things from behind a desk. But he thought he might score some much-needed
brownie points with his and Saville’s boss, Commissaire Divisionnaire Belfort, if he managed to bring down the thief himself. Besides, he missed
field work.
    Jean-Marc had been to a
half-dozen clubs over the past week following the princess and her ostentatious
jewels along with the tabloid paparazzi, but le Revenant had yet to put
in an appearance. Maybe he wouldn’t turn up tonight, either.
    Which would leave
Jean-Marc free for other pursuits. Such as the pretty blonde in his arms.
    Donc , he was smart
enough to recognize a rationalization when he heard it, but at the moment he
didn’t give a shit. They had stopped pretending to dance and were now kissing
in earnest in the middle of the crowd like a couple of teenagers.
    “ Viens ,” he
murmured, lifting his mouth from hers when people started to stare. He grabbed
her hand. “Come on.”
    Before he even knew where
he was going, he trotted down the stairs to the basement level where the
restrooms were located, towing her by the wrist. Bypassing the hommes and femmes , he spotted a door marked “no admittance” and jerked it open.
A startled waiter glanced up from unpacking a box of wine and started to
protest.
    Jean-Marc whipped out his carte de requisition , which identified him as a police officer, and
ordered, “Out. Vite .” The waiter scrambled to his feet and scrammed. The
door jerked closed.
    The light in the room
flickered dimly and the place smelled musty, like old cardboard. But the scent
of the woman’s perfume clung to him, and she was all Jean-Marc needed to see.
    He turned to his captive
and pushed her up against the door, setting the lock with a swift flick of his
thumb. He was so ready for this . He desperately needed to lose his
frustrations in the hot passion of a willing woman, to thrust away his anger
and annoyance in the blissful forgetfulness of her sweet body. Bon dieu ,
he needed this. With every fiber of his being he wanted to be inside her.
    “ Je veux te baiser, ”
he growled, and took her mouth in a savage kiss.
    She moaned, undulating
her body beneath his as he kissed her over and over, touching her, learning
her, urging her on with the blatant language of sex. She reached for his belt
buckle.
    “ Attends ,” he
said, grabbing both her wrists. “Wait.”
    He eased out a harsh
breath, grappling for control. Of the situation. Of himself. He held her there
as she panted, watching her breasts rise and fall beneath her silky dress.
    He wanted to see them. He
wanted to taste them.
    He let her go and scraped
her dress straps off her slim shoulders, peeling  her bodice to her waist. Her
bra was black, made of the sheerest lace, and did nothing to hide her breasts.
They weren’t large, but full and round, tipped with pretty nipples of rose,
peaked and eager for his attention.
    “ Mon Dieu ,” he
murmured. “You are beautiful.”
    He popped the front clasp
and they fell into his hands, warm and silky-soft. With a groan of pleasure he
bent and took one in his mouth, sucking in the firm nipple. He licked and
suckled her, feeling the tension slowly seep from his shoulders and down to
fill his heavy groin. Bon Dieu . This time he didn’t stop her when she groped
for his belt.
    He almost detonated when
she touched him, taking him boldly in her hand.
    “ Non ,” he gasped,
pulling her away. With one hand he raised her wrists above her head, with the
other fumbled in his inside pocket for his wallet and the protection he always
carried. All the while kissing her, deep and hard.
    He found the packet and
placed it on a nearby shelf. Then snagged the hem of her dress and dragged it
up, twisting it into a knot at her waist. How he wished he could