The Paris Caper by Nina Bruhns Read Free Book Online

you in till late
tomorrow. Hopefully in a better mood.” He ducked out, then right back in. “Oh,
I almost forgot. There’s a nice snap of you two in the evening rag.” He tossed
a rolled-up newspaper onto Jean-Marc’s desk. “Just the right touch for your
already legendary reputation, I thought.”
    With that he disappeared
again. Jean-Marc glanced at the clock as he plucked up the newspaper. Past
quitting time. He spread the roll flat, and stared at it in shock.
    On the front page was a
photo of himself with his arm around Ciara Alexander as they emerged from Club
LeCoeur . He was looking down at her with a secretive little smile, and she
was smiling back, her lips just puffy enough and her hair and dress just
disheveled enough to look as though they’d been doing exactly what they’d been
doing.
    Then he read the
headline: Dutch Princess Robbed! And the caption under the photo: Commissaire
Lacroix Too Busy To Foil Le Revenant!
    He pinched the bridge of
his nose between his fingers and cursed.
    “ Putain de merde .”
This was just what he fucking needed. More negative publicity. Thank God he wasn’t the lead detective on the case. Because if he had been, it would be
like a bad flashback—to the nightmare that had been his life five years ago.
The nightmare that had sent him into the tailspin that lost him his wife and
very nearly his job. And had made him the emotionally mistrustful bastard he
was today.
    He straightened, tossed
the newspaper into the trash and took a deep, cleansing breath.
    Non . Thank God for
small favors. He was not in charge, so this thief would not be getting the
better of him. Not this time. That wasn’t going to happen again.
    But he would not tempt
fate, nor add fuel to the fire, by seeing that woman Ciara again, either. He
had enough to think about, enough to do, without obsessing over getting laid.
    He could live without
her. There were other women. Plenty of them. Ones who didn’t disappoint or
betray a man. Ones who only sought to please you...for the right price.
    Mind made up, he
determinedly stuck the faxes of her photo and Sorbonne application, along with
the paper he’d written her name and address on, under the heavy leather blotter
on his desk.
    And sat back glowering at
the ceiling, trying to come up with a new strategy to catch the troublesome
Ghost. But his imagination had deserted the case for greener pastures.
    Resignedly, he leaned over
and fished the newspaper back out of the wastebasket and ripped off the front
page. And for a long time he stared at the photo of himself with Ciara.
    Alors , He
straightened his spine, stuck the news page under the blotter, too, and slammed
his hands on the desk.
    Done.
    One all-too-tempting
woman gone from his life. For good.
    ♥♥♥
     
    As soon as he arrived at 36 Quai des Orfèvres the next day, Jean-Marc was called into CD Belfort’s office.
    This couldn’t be good.
    He strode down the gray
second-floor hallway wondering what he was going to be chewed out for this
time. Despite having one of the best arrest records in the OCBC, he could never
seem to please his boss. “A loose cannon,” Belfort called him. “Can’t tell the
difference between you and the goddamned bad guys.”
    Bon , whatever
worked.
    He ran into Belfort
coming out of an incident room with Michéle Saville, lead detective on le
Revenant case. Saville marched after their boss with his hands clasped
behind his back like an idiot, looking smug.
    “What the hell is this all about?” Belfort demanded when he spotted Jean-Marc. He halted and snapped
open a copy of last evening’s tabloid in front of his chest. The one with the
photo. And the damning headline. “You were there before the robbery?”
    He could tell it was
going to be one long, fucking day.
    “ Oui , I was there
all evening. On my own time,” he added, matching Belfort stride-for-stride as
he resumed his march down the hall toward his office. Saville was forced to
follow behind. “I