The Paris Assignment. Addison Fox
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Nothing.”
“Who are you working for?”
Abby was torn between watching the exchange and running for help. Although Campbell appeared to have the upper hand, she was afraid to leave him alone. The sound of shouts and heavy footfalls ensured she didn’t need to make that decision as two security guards barreled through the glass doors.
“Sir! Stand back.”
The entire scene ran like something out of a bad movie as Abby watched the two men separate Campbell and the stranger, then drag both of them some distance from the cars.
“I’ve got credentials, if you’ll just let me get them from my pockets.” Campbell grit out the words as his gaze stayed locked on the man he’d had pinned.
The guard holding Campbell waited for a nod from his partner before agreeing. “Can she get it for you?”
“Abby?” Campbell’s gaze met hers. “My inside front pocket.”
Tension gripped all of them in tight fists and she made quick work of the job, reaching inside his open tuxedo jacket. As he promised, there was a small leather folder there and she pulled it out and opened it for the guard.
The guard released his grip and she watched, fascinated, as Campbell extended his arms in front of him to keep the man at ease. “You’re in security?”
“Yes.”
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” The guard handed the badge back while his partner kept a firm hold on the other man.
Campbell provided a quick recap of events both during the cocktail hour and what led them into the garage.
“The man followed you, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
The guy screamed that she was a liar, but it was only while he was screaming that Abby truly caught sight of where his gaze had landed.
On the diamond necklace that encircled her throat.
Understanding flooded her in a rush. “You’re a thief.”
“I am not.”
“That’s what this is about.”
The accusation had little effect on the man’s mood, but it was enough to shift the conversation with the guards to their favor as well as the two additional guards who came down after receiving radio calls.
Abby watched in bewildered fascination as Campbell worked the new guards, reconfirming his license and what had happened.
And she was even more shocked and amazed when, after providing their contact information only, they were both given permission to leave.
“How’d you do that?”
“The license helped.” Campbell’s hand returned to her lower back and he led them toward the waiting line of cars. “I also let the guard know you were a highly respected businesswoman under my protection. They’ll follow up with you.”
Campbell waved in the direction of the limo line and she saw a quick flash of lights from their driver. “Come on. Let’s wait for him over here.”
“Do you think they’ll get anything out of him?”
“Where’d you get the idea he was a thief?”
Abby thought back to that brief flash of insight. It wasn’t anything she could fully describe or explain, but she’d known the moment the man’s gaze had settled on her neck that his intentions were about the jewelry.
She’d spent long years reading people and she couldn’t shake the bone-deep certainty that had been his motive.
“There was an avarice in his eyes I can’t quite explain. I’m sure once they run him it’ll become more than obvious he was casing the event to set up a few jobs.”
The car pulled around and their driver hopped out and got them settled. Campbell took his seat opposite her and she sunk against the padded seats, unable to stop the events of the evening from flashing through her mind.
“I’m sure the police will follow up, but I’ll also run that guy through a facial-recognition program. If he’s got any sort of a record, or even a whisper of suspicion around him, he’ll pop.”
“Good.” Abby tried to shake off the lingering feelings of vulnerability that were as unwelcome as they were uncomfortable.
“And just to cover ground I know you’ll be asked again. You’ve never seen him before?”
“No, I haven’t. Which is more than I can say for you and the Sophia Loren wannabe back there.”
Her own words surprised her but they had their desired effect as they shifted Campbell’s focus. His grin was back, whip-quick and more than a little dashing. “You didn’t believe me when I told you I didn’t like opera.”
“I assumed you didn’t care for the music.”
“Among other things,” he muttered as he reached for his bow tie.
Abby held her tongue, the image of those slender arms and luscious curves wrapped around Campbell still haunting her mind’s eye. Not only was the reaction beyond inappropriate—he owed her no explanations—it was damned infuriating to feel like the cuckolded lover.
Even if the lover part was imaginary.
“How about a drink? I want to discuss tonight as well as our plans for tomorrow.”
She flirted briefly with turning down the invitation, but discarded the idea. They didn’t have much time before leaving for Paris and there was still much to go over. Besides, her adrenaline was still so sky-high she knew she was unlikely to fall asleep anytime soon. “Where would you like to go?”
“The Four Winds is on the way to your home. It’s dark, it’s private and it’s a classic with those big wide windows overlooking Central Park. Let’s head there.” After a quick set of instructions to their driver, Campbell dragged the tie from his throat, wrapping it up and dropping it into his suit pocket. A small patch of skin was visible at the open neck of his shirt and Abby felt her temperature spike another few degrees.
Their destination decided, Abby tried to mentally regroup. She had to get a grip on these ridiculous feelings. She and Campbell were going to be spending a lot of time together in close proximity and ogling her newly acquired business associate wasn’t going to help her keep her mind on the game. Already tonight, she’d been more than surprised when he’d pointed out the steady gaze of the tuxedo-clad stranger.
She hadn’t even noticed the man.
“What was your take on this evening?” She saw the bright lights of the Time Warner Center as their driver took the turn at Columbus Circle and she knew they weren’t far from their destination.
“Aside from our criminal du jour, it was a relatively harmless evening. Lots of well-dressed people having stuffy, boring conversations.”
“That’s what you thought about tonight?”
“Sure. Didn’t you?”
A laugh welled up at his frank assessment. “Well, yeah, but aren’t we supposed to pretend we had a good time, drinking in the atmosphere and reveling in the talk of important matters?”
“What for? It was a bunch of privileged people standing around talking about privileged things.”
She couldn’t hold back her curiosity at the entirely unexpected shift in the conversation. “Unless I’m mistaken, that townhome we picked you up at smacks of privilege and wealth.”
He shrugged, the lines of his shoulders stiff and uncomfortable as his gaze drifted toward the window. “It just seems like there’s more to life.”
“Is that why you do this?”
He turned