Agent of Desire (Jessica Booker) by Evans Charlie

Author:Evans, Charlie [Evans, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Author
Published: 2013-02-15T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Riding on the back of Geoffrey’s motorcycle with my arms around his waist should feel intimate, especially considering what we’ve been through in the past few days. But it isn’t like that. In fact, I’ve never felt so distant from someone I held so close.

Being with him in the garage back there felt so good, and so gratifying. But it didn’t feel right.

In training, they told us to trust our instincts when reading people. My gut told me he wanted something more than a one-night stand, but we both wanted to be close so badly that he was willing to lie, and I was willing to let him.

Now something is definitely off between us. One-night stands are my normal. Never get too close, never let them get too close. Love ‘em and leave ‘em. That’s the way I like it. Most men don’t have a problem with my preference.

Something about this, though—I don’t like it. Not one bit.

We’d left Geoffrey’s friend’s house at four in the morning with directions to a house outside Paris. Lincoln hadn’t been able to nail down an official safe house, he’d explained. This was a friend of a friend.

I didn’t remind him that we, in the CIA, don’t generally have friends, instead deciding to be thankful we had somewhere to go.

The people we are to stay with know very little about our business. Only that it’s a matter of international security and they shouldn’t ask questions. They are expecting us for breakfast and will put us up for a few days while Lincoln works with headquarters to plot our next move.

It took two hours to drive there. The sun rose at our backs as we rode. The first hour took us through the sprawling suburbs of Paris, one unfolding to the next. It got to the point that I wondered if the houses would ever thin. But they did.

The second hour was spent driving through farmland which, save for the cute French cottages and the French road signs, resembled rural Wisconsin with its vast greenery and rolling hills. It amazes me how different each culture is, having its own architecture, customs, and beliefs. But when left on its own, the earth seems to resemble itself over long distances and across oceans. We might be different, but the earth only knows one way to be.

The people who put us up, the Franks, are a young couple who live in a country cottage surrounded by nothing but wilderness on all sides. The nearest neighbor is just barely in sight through a field and on the top of the next hill.

The Franks’ house is a little one-story three-bedroom, with a guest room above the garage.

As they welcome us into their home, my eyes scan the space and I almost lose my shit. Sitting on the sofa in front of the television are two small children, a girl who looks no more than three, and a boy of maybe five. I turn on my heel and rush back outside.

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