French Connection Vol. 3 by M. S. Parker Read Free Book Online Page A

least three times the size of the average homes I'd seen during my short stay. The gate across the driveway and the massive amount of security rivaled some of the pictures I'd seen from Krissy in LA.
    We didn't have any problem getting in, but I still felt a bit out of place as Gavin and I walked toward the front door. The people walking around us weren't rich celebrities and businessmen like the ones we usually spent time with back home. No, these were old money. Old money that made prominent New York families look like second-class citizens. These were the kinds of people who could claim royal blood somewhere in their genealogy. Here, it wasn't money that mattered as much as it was the titles and the bloodlines.
    Alizee was at the door, greeting guests as they came in and I felt Gavin stiffen next to me. Vincent wasn't anywhere to be seen, so we either had to act normal and go in on our own, or wait for Vincent and risk Alizee getting suspicious that something was going on.
    “It's okay for things to be awkward,” I whispered so that only Gavin could hear me. “She doesn't know what you have or haven’t told me about your swim earlier today. For all she knows, you're acting uncomfortable because of that.”
    “Good point,” Gavin said and relaxed a little. “Let's make sure she thinks that's what's going on.”
    I nodded. I didn't need him to tell me what he was thinking because I was thinking it too. I waited until Alizee looked right at us and then leaned into Gavin and slid my arm around his waist in a possessive gesture any woman would recognize instantly. I gave her a haughty smirk and then fixed a coldly polite smile on my face.
    Gavin kept his arm around my shoulders as we approached, a stiff smile on his face.
    “Alizee,” he said politely.
    “Gavin.”
    Her voice was warm as she looked at him and it was all I could do not to slap her into next week. Then she looked at me and a different kind of heat came into her eyes. She didn’t bother to disguise her contempt of me anymore. At least not to me. I had no doubt the righteous mask would slip back on the second someone else approached.
    “How nice of you both to come.” She gestured for us to enter the house. “Please, make yourselves at home.”
    We stepped past and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a fine line to walk, trying to convince her my dislike of her stemmed only from her obsession with Gavin and not because I knew about her disgusting side business. Or rather, the business that supported everything else she did. Sometimes the best disguise was distraction and misdirection.
    Gavin and I went inside and began to mingle. Or, rather, Gavin mingled while I smiled and nodded, only understanding a word here and there half the time. Some of the people, when they discovered we were American, switched to English, but most didn't. I liked to think it was because they weren't comfortable conversing in another language and not because they thought they were too good to do it. I knew a lot of Europeans thought Americans were snobs because they thought everyone should speak English, but that wasn't the case with me. French just hadn't been the language I'd chosen to study in college. In New York, it was more beneficial to know Spanish than French.
    After the first couple of introductions and subsequent conversations, I decided that if I wasn't able to be a part of talking to these people, the least I could do is observe my surroundings. We might be working with Vincent, but I was still loyal to what Pierre wanted too. There was no reason both couldn't be accomplished. Besides, if I could discover something that could help us, so much the better.
    There were two floors, though it was clear that the upstairs were off limits. The burly men standing at the base of the staircase didn't look like the kind of people it'd be easy to slip one over on. Across the massive room I assumed was a parlor or entertaining room of some kind, were a pair of double doors. I