Femme Fatale by Virginia Kantra, Doranna Durgin, Meredith Fletcher Read Free Book Online Page B

approach to life.
    Not stirring enough. “You want manly MI6?” he asked. “How’s this? My nice macho nine-millimeter Browning is only centimeters from your bum. It’s a lovely bum, and I’d hate to make holes in it, but I’ve got a ten-round magazine and it’s full.” As an afterthought he added, “It’s got black epoxy finish. Very sexy.”
    “My bum?” she said faintly, although not from any obvious fear. More like disbelief of what she’d just heard.
    “The pistol,” he said. “Black epoxy. All the blokes want one.” Good Lord, she had him talking nonsense just like she did.
    “Yeah?” She actually seemed offended that he’d been talking about the pistol and not her sweet rounded body parts. “ Mine is a Sig-Sauer P226. Nine millimeter, sixteen-round magazine, European proof marks, custom Nill-grips. Name of Wyatt.” She raised an eyebrow at him, proclaiming her trump. “That’s not counting my rifle, of course. Which you haven’t got. You’ve got some fool’s weapon instead.”
    “But I’ve got my pistol,” he reminded her. “Centimeters from your bum, remember? And unless you’re hiding a third arm somewhere, your Wyatt is not in hand. So when I suggest we quietly leave this little shopping mecca and head for a place where we can discuss why you killed Lyeta and what you found on her body—as well as what she told you—I hope you pay serious attention. And while you’re at it, you can hand over that nice fanny pack. Looks like it’s carrying a bit of weight. Wouldn’t want you to tire.”
    “SAS spelled sideways,” she growled. “And what if I don’t? This is such a nice place to make a scene, don’t you think?”
    “Only one of us is wanted by the local Boer for murder,” he said complacently, not bothering to mention it wasn’t her. “You go ahead. Make your scene. I’ll be the manly MI6 agent who tracked you down.” He nodded in thoughtful satisfaction. “I like the sound of that. Then we’ll still talk—only you’ll be behind bars.”
    She glared at him. It was an amazing glare, coming from blue-green eyes the same color as the parka. Deepest turquoise. Those eyes should have been illegal all in of themselves, never mind what else she was up to. The shopping center visitors walked happily by the sunken conversation area, chattering kids in tow, laden with touristy totes and smelling of suntan lotion. Jason had an unhappy awareness that the population of the center had nearly doubled within the past hour; it was well and away time to be out of here. Cape Town’s beautifully moderate weather would bring tourists out in droves as the day wore on.
    And she still glared at him. “You know,” she said, “I’ve got things to do, and you’re wasting my time. Has it ever occurred to you that we’re on the same side? ThatI didn’t kill Lyeta? That you’re just getting in my way, stopping me from accomplishing something that will benefit us both—not to mention just about anyone else on this little global village we call a planet?”
    “No,” he said automatically. “Or why resist coming along with me in the first place?”
    She made an inarticulate noise of frustration. “Because you’re in my way. I don’t have the time to waste!”
    “I’m afraid you’re going to have to convince me with something more along the order of details,” he said. “Lots of details.” But he hesitated, aware of the doubt sitting rather heavily in the center of his chest. The genuine frustration, the way it showed on her face along with everything else—
    That doesn’t mean it’s real—she already proved that.
    “Six billion, two hundred million people on this planet waiting for me to get in gear. One million, six thousand right here in Cape Town alone,” she grumbled. “And I’m sitting here waiting for you to make up your mind.”
    Ow. “As it happens, my mind’s made up.” It wasn’t. But if he followed procedure, if he brought her in, then it didn’t have to