Taken. Lisa Harris

Pierre did have a point. If she stayed in Paris, he might be able to get some information out of her and keep his eye on her at the same time. For as much as he didn’t like the idea, as far as he was concerned, Kate Elliot needed someone to look after her.

      * * *

      Kate watched Marcus pace outside the car, cell phone pressed against his ear, his frown deepening. She knew he was talking about her. More than likely, he was having his friend book the next flight out of the country for her. But if Sophie was here, she was going to do everything in her power to help find her niece. And there was nothing Marcus could do to stop her.

      When he finally slipped back into the car, she was ready to argue her case. “I’m not leaving Paris.”

      “That’s fine.”

      “That’s fine?” Kate paused. “You’re not taking me to the airport?”

      “That was my first choice, but Pierre convinced me that we might be able to use you.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “Whoever tried to grab you today clearly thinks you are connected to the case somehow. I want to know how. And in exchange, you get a safe place to stay.”

      Five minutes later, Kate stepped out of the small elevator onto the fourth floor of the apartment building, into a lit hallway with three doors, still unsure if she was happy with the situation. But if it kept her safe and in Paris, maybe it was time to stop arguing.

      Marcus pressed the buzzer of apartment 403, then waited beside her until a man wearing a suit opened up the door and ushered them inside.

      “This is Pierre Durand.” Marcus introduced the man. “He’s with French intelligence, working on the same case I am. He also speaks perfect English.”

      The older man pushed back his glasses and grinned. “From living in Boston for three years.”

      Kate shook the man’s hand and realized her own was still trembling. She pulled her hand back then glanced around the tiny apartment’s living room with its mismatched table and chairs and eclectic collection of artwork on the walls. Even the late-morning sunlight streaming through two large windows wasn’t enough to lighten her somber mood.

      Her gaze shifted back to the other agent. The reality of why she was here hit afresh like an aftershock. She needed a few minutes alone to get her emotions in check.

      “You’ll find the apartment small, but sufficient. And safe,” Pierre assured her. “It’s completely off the grid.”

      “It’s...perfect. Would you mind if I used the restroom?”

      “Of course not.” Pierre nodded. “It’s straight ahead through the door on the left.”

      Once inside the narrow room, Kate sat down on the closed toilet seat and rested her hands against her thighs, trying to stop her legs from shaking. Marcus might be used to going after the bad guys, but she wasn’t. Which was why he’d been right. Maybe she should be on the next flight back to the United States. She could still feel the man’s steel grip on her arm and hear the cars whizzing past her as she’d fled through the heavy traffic.

      If she hadn’t escaped the vehicle... If Marcus hadn’t rescued her... No. She shook her head. She couldn’t let her mind go there. They might still be after her, but for now she was safe—even if she wasn’t completely comfortable with her rescuer.

      Clearly, she had trust issues, springing from the fact that most men in her life hadn’t exactly lived up to her expectations. That group primarily included Kevin, who she’d once seen as her hero.

      She clenched her fingers together. The bottom line was that she was scared. Scared that her by and large orderly world had spun out of control to the point that no one—not even the far-too-handsome Agent O’Brian—would be able to set it right again.

      Her phone rang, disrupting her tremulous thoughts.

      She answered the call, determined to keep her voice even. “Mom?”

      “Kate? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

      Kate wiped her cheek then pressed her palm against her thigh. “I’m okay. What time is it there?”

      “Around five. I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to make sure you arrived safe.”

      “I did. I’m...I’m fine.” She wasn’t going to tell her mom what had happened. The last thing she needed was a second daughter to worry about. “What’s the latest news on Rachel?”

      “I’m at the hospital now.” There was a long pause on the line. “There’s been no change. And no news on the search for Sophie, either.”

      “I know, Mom, and I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

      “I still can’t believe what happened, but for the moment, I’m worried about you. I don’t think you should have left.”

      Kate rubbed the back of her neck, trying to iron out the knots that had formed the past twenty-four hours. She knew her mom was hurting. The last thing she wanted to do was add to her worry.

      “You understand that I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing, Mom.”

      “Did you find Chad?”

      “No. He’s not answering his phone. I think he’s avoiding me.”

      “I always knew he wasn’t good for Rachel.”

      “We don’t know that he’s behind this—”

      “Then why isn’t he here with Rachel, or at least out looking for his daughter?”

      “I don’t know, Mom. But I promise I’ll call you if I find out anything. Just don’t worry about me. I’m safe. In fact, I’m here right now with the agent I met at Rachel’s house. Agent O’Brian. He’s promised to help, and to keep me safe. We’re going to find a way through this.”

      Kate hung up the call a minute later and drew in a deep breath. For Rachel’s sake—for all of them—she was going to have to pull herself together if she was going to find Sophie.

       FOUR

      Marcus glanced at his watch, then knocked on the door of the restroom, worried about Kate. “Kate, are you okay?”

      She blew her nose. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

      His mind kept switching back and forth from relief that she was safe to anger over the fact that she clearly had no idea how to follow instructions. She’d almost gotten herself kidnapped. Or worse. Which was why—no matter what Pierre might have convinced him—he still believed she had no business being here in Paris, no business trying to track down a killer on her own and especially no business worming her way into his heart.

      Because he knew how that scenario was going to end before it even started.

      He drummed his fingers against his legs, irritated he’d allowed the thought to even cross his mind. He’d learned a hard lesson with Nicole. She’d become the perfect example of how mixing romance and a high-stress job was nothing more than a recipe for failure. He’d once believed—even if it had been briefly—that she was the one. Beautiful in an exotic way, she’d managed to turn his world upside-down in the few months they’d known each other. He’d decided she was worth the risk, but he’d been wrong. Very wrong.

      Nicole had forced him to choose between his career and her. He’d tried to convince her there didn’t need to be a choice, but she clearly hadn’t agreed. She’d told him she was tired of his busy schedule, of him not being there when she needed him and of constantly worrying he’d be shot...or worse.

      Marcus stared at the closed door. Kate, though, was nothing like Nicole.

      He erased that last thought—something