Taken. Lisa Harris

of history and even the endless miles of subways that had intrigued him. He was used to traveling and dealing with the local authorities. What he hadn’t expected was the emotional reaction this case had managed to bring with it.

      And Kate Elliot was at the root of that unexpected response.

      “She’s pretty,” Pierre said as Marcus stared out the window.

      Marcus turned to the Frenchman. “She’s a handful.”

      “I think I’d be enjoying the challenge, if I were you.”

      “Don’t get any ideas.”

      Pierre’s eyes widened. “You seem to be taking this case rather personally.”

      Marcus swallowed his frustration. “It’s personal because I’ve been working this for a long time. Every time I think we’re about to close in on another lead, something goes wrong. At this point, Chad Laurent is our best lead, but now his wife is lying in the hospital, his daughter is missing and we can’t find him. Something’s wrong.”

      Pierre nodded at the bathroom door. “Does she know Chad’s connection to the diamonds and weapons smuggling?”

      He shook his head. “I haven’t told her anything about that.”

      “I still say we use her to get to Chad.”

      Marcus lowered his voice. “And I still don’t want her to be bait.”

      “She’s the man’s sister-in-law. Maybe she can help us bring him in, because frankly, we can’t afford to let him get away again. She might be the best chance we’ve got.”

      “I don’t know.”

      “You know I’m right. Don’t let your sense of chivalry get under your skin and taint the situation. Like I told you on the phone, we need her.”

      Marcus frowned. His negative reaction to Pierre’s suggestion had nothing to do with chivalry or shows of gallantry. He was simply doing his job. Nothing more, nothing less. Kate had already managed to get herself into enough trouble on her own. How much more of a mess would she get into if they used her to hunt down Chad?

      Two minutes later, Kate stepped into the living room, looking more put together than when he’d first found her on the street. He could tell she’d been crying, but he didn’t blame her. She was lucky she was still alive. The guys who’d been after her played for keeps.

      And despite his frustration toward her, he had to give her some credit. She was smart, intuitive and clearly took the initiative. Three characteristics he admired. But that admiration of Kate’s characteristics was bound to get him into a heap of trouble if he didn’t stop now and rein in his meandering thoughts.

      “How about I run across the street and get some coffee and sandwiches for the three of us?” Pierre offered. “I don’t know about you, but I missed breakfast.”

      Marcus nodded. “Thanks. That would be nice.”

      He sat down on the edge of a plaid, padded armchair in the living room, feeling awkward as Pierre left them alone. But it was time to get to work. He had a number of questions to ask, and he needed answers. Not that this was an interrogation, not officially at least, but there were things he wanted to know before they could go any further and he was convinced she knew things that could help him find Chad.

      “Why don’t you sit down. If it hasn’t already, jet lag will be hitting you soon.”

      She nodded, then sat down on the couch across from him.

      He reached into his briefcase, pulled out Rachel’s journal and photo albums, and set them on the wooden coffee table between them.

      Kate’s gaze narrowed as she recognized them. “You read her journal?”

      “It’s evidence.”

      “Evidence?” Kate stood up and started pacing in front of him. “Do you know how upset my sister would be knowing the government is reading her private thoughts?”

      Marcus tapped the floor with his foot at the fumble he’d clearly just made. This wasn’t the way to get her to help him. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t have too much to worry about. So far, I haven’t been able to decipher much of it.”

      “My sister has her own kind of shorthand.”

      “So I’ve discovered. I was hoping you would be able to help me interpret it. Do you think you can read it?”

      She stopped pacing and caught his gaze. “It’s my sister’s journal.”

      “I know, but you want to find your niece.” He opened the book to a marked page, then handed it to her. “For example, who’s Ace? She mentions him around the time she was in Paris.”

      “I don’t know. Rachel...she always makes up nicknames for people.”

      “Like?”

      “Growing up she called me Kit Kat. Sophie’s always been Pumpkin.”

      “And Chad?”

      “She called him Beau.”

      “So this name...Ace...could be anyone.”

      “Yes. I’m sorry. I really don’t know. Why do you want to find him?”

      “I’m the one asking the questions for the moment.”

      She plopped back onto the couch. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the enemy here. I will do anything I can to help my sister and find my niece—including working with you—but I don’t know why that needs to include an interrogation.”

      “I’m sorry.” Marcus pinched the bridge of his noise. He needed to quit saying he was sorry, as much as he needed her to understand he was trying to help. “This isn’t an interrogation. Listen. I’ll make you a deal. Let me ask you what I need to know, then I’ll answer anything you want.”

      “Anything?”

      “Anything.”

      His phone rang, and he grabbed it out of his front pocket. She was right. She didn’t deserve to be put in a position where she felt like the enemy.

      A moment later he hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. “Our conversation will have to wait. They need me down at the station in regards to that stolen car that chased us.”

      She scooted forward on the couch. “I’ll come with you—”

      “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.” He tried to ignore the disappointment in her eyes. “Pierre is on his way with lunch, along with one of the female French agents, who will stay here with you until I get back.”

      “I don’t need a babysitter,” she shot back.

      “If I remember correctly, you were needing a bit of help when I showed up.”

      Her frown deepened, making him feel guilty again for provoking her.

      “Kate, please. I’m not trying to argue with you.” He paused while trying to categorize his thoughts. “This isn’t personal. I just want to keep you safe.”

      Except it was becoming personal. No matter how he tried to keep things strictly business, his heart wasn’t complying. She stared up at him with those wide eyes, making him want to draw her into his arms and promise her that he’d fix everything. Which irritated him all the more. He’d never had problems keeping his professional life separate from his personal life. Kate Elliot was just another case. A source he might be able to use to his advantage.

      Nothing more. Nothing less.

      But if that was true, then why did his heart wish he could stay?

      * * *

      Kate’s phone rang, jolting her awake. She opened her eyes and stared at the sunlight filtering through flowery