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“Comeon, Adele,” John probed. “Call me—”

Thistime, it was her turn to roll her eyes and mutter, “Shut up.” She leaned in,hard, giving just as much of the fire, the fury, as he’d provided, leaning intohim. She shared her breath with his, feeling the way his lips fit to hers, softand yet rigid. The way he leaned in, hard, his eyes closed the moment they drewtoo near. Her own eyes flickered, flashing and casting images of his featureslike through an old projection screen across her vision.

Atlast, when she was good and ready, she let him go, stepping back and staring athim. This time, she flashed a grin and also winked for good measure.

Evenin this shared embrace, it seemed impossible to fully put aside the edge totheir relationship. And perhaps that’s what made it intoxicating.

“Wellthen,” John murmured.

“Wellthen,” Adele returned.

Shepaused, breathing, gathering her thoughts. She watched John, staring at him,frozen in that delightful moment a second longer. She didn’t want to leave it.It seemed a warm cocoon, a shield from the rest of the world, from… everything.

Butlike all cocoons, this one began to shatter the moment she heard the squeak oftaxi wheels against the road. She glanced over and spotted two cabs coming downthe road outside the terminal. She blinked, and glanced at John.

“Calledtwo,” he murmured in matter of explanation. “Figured we’d be going oppositedirections.”

Adelenodded, biting her lower lip and frowning for a moment. She thought of Leoni,of his offer for a ride to the airport. Of the way he listened, the way heseemed to care about what she thought. He had limped along the train, followingafter them with gritted teeth. A liability more than anything on that case.

Butdid that matter at all?

Johnwas an agent, through and through. A reliable partner, dangerous in battle andtrustworthy in a fox hole.

Butwas that what she wanted? The cocoon seemed shattered completely now. Johnalmost seemed to sense it, and his eyes narrowed, flicking from the nearesttaxi to her. He exhaled softly. Then, as if in manner of explanation, hemurmured. “I wish I didn’t feel this way,” he said. “I wish I didn’t, but I do.And I thought you should know.” He reached up, teeth pressed against his lowerlip as if in thought. Then he shrugged, turned, and approached the nearesttaxi. “Good night, American Princess,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll seeyou around.”

Thewarmth was gone, the cocoon had vanished, and once more she stood on the cold,hard sidewalk, numb and frowning, watching John Renee enter the taxi andwatching him instruct the driver. A moment later, the vehicle pulled away,leaving her standing in front of the second cab that pulled to the curb.

Sheleaned down, picking up her carry-on and laptop bag and sighing into the night.She could still just about smell his cologne. What did any of that even mean?He wished he didn’t feel that way?

Didshe?

Adeledidn’t know what she wished. Which was half the trouble.

Adelesighed, shaking her head and stepping toward the taxi, entering the backpassenger seat. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

“Whereto?” the cabbie asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

Adelepaused, began to answer, but then frowned as her phone vibrated.

Sheglanced down. Nearly two thirty in the morning now. They’d been standingoutside the airport for nearly half an hour.

Damn.

Sheshook her head in exhaustion, but then stared at the notification on her phone.A message. Her frown settled, and she felt a sudden flutter of the same senseof foreboding that had been haunting her ever since she’d left the DGSIheadquarters two days ago.

Butas she opened the message, she sighed in relief.

FromRobert Henry. The words were short, to the point, sent only a minute ago.

Landyet? Could you come visit? I have something I need to show you.

Adelestared at the message. She paused, shaking her head, and muttered to thecabbie. “Sorry, one second.”

Thenshe texted back. Right now?

Apause as she stared at the blank phone.

Thenthree words flashed across the text chain.

Rightnow, please.

Adelestared at the glowing white light from her phone inside the still taxi. Shefelt a flicker of tiredness try to compete with her other emotions. Couldn’tit wait, Robert? She thought to herself. So late at night? Then again, she’dalways known Agent Henry to be a night owl. She smiled, recollecting moments bythe fireplace, reading books together well into the morning, sitting in thosetwin red leather chairs. She remembered more than one bowl of chocolate cereallate at night, discussing politics or philosophy or simply listening to Robertshare old war stories from his younger years.

Twothirty in the morning wasn’t so late. Not for Robert. Besides, she’dwanted to see him when she got back any way.

“Allright, sorry,” Adele said, quickly, glancing up into the mirror again. Shepushed her phone into her pocket and then provided the taxi driver with RobertHenry’s address. “It’s a big place,” she added. “Lot of statues in the garden.”

Thedriver nodded once, plotting the course on his GPS, and Adele leaned back inthe passenger seat, staring out the window and smiling at the thought ofreuniting with her old mentor.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Thetaxi rolled to a gentle stop on the curb outside Robert’s mansion.

“Thisit?” the driver asked, glancing in the rearview mirror and waiting expectantly.

“Yeah,thanks,” Adele said, handing a fifty-euro note to the man and adding, “Keep thechange.”

Thedriver gave a quick nod of gratitude as Adele extricated herself, her carry-on,and her laptop bag from the back seat. She turned away as the taxi wheeledsoftly out the of the suburb on the outskirts of Paris. Adele paused for amoment, staring up at Robert’s old home, her eyes flicking along the statues inthe yard. She felt a flush of relief, like slipping into a warm bath. It was ahomecoming of sorts, and for a moment, she closed her eyes, thinking to all themoments and times she’d missed this place and her old mentor, also recollectingthe times she’d spent here, just her and Robert, alone in the mansion, readingbooks, laughing, living.

Shesighed softly at this final thought. Remembering the way Robert had looked in thathospital bed, draped in the gown of death. He’d been so shriveled, so small, soweak. She hated the thought of

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