Lucy nodded. “We’ve arranged for special payment to your bank account, a somewhat larger sum than you and Ben originally discussed. At some point, I hope we can talk again. I’m always looking for fresh, smart talent.”
When Lucy left, Ben leaned a little closer and started to whistle La Vie en Rose.
Epilogue
“It’s time, farm girl.”
Callie moaned softly, moved more by the touch of strong, warm fingers over her breasts than the words Ben whispered in her ear.
“One more minute.” She kissed him, sliding a leg over his, rustling the French silk sheets.
“It’s always one more minute with you.” But he obliged, caressing her lightly and then pulling her on top of him so that every inch of their bodies touched. “And it’s never really one minute.”
She laughed into their kiss, so comfortable and happy. “I wish we didn’t have to go back tomorrow,” she said, threading her fingers into his thick, soft hair and trailing kisses over his neck. “I don’t want Paris to end.”
He lifted her face to look into her eyes. “I don’t want this to end.”
The words were like hot honey, so sweet and so delicious on her heart. “You know where I live,” she whispered.
“Too far away. Sell the farm and move to New York.”
Every day the possibility seemed more real and right. “You never know what can happen,” she said. But, deep inside, they both knew.
They kissed again, the easy, trusting kiss of two people who belonged together.
“But it’s time.” He slowly slid her to the side. “You wanted to wait until the last night and, honestly, you can’t do this work in daylight. It’s three-thirty. We have to go before sunrise.”
“Did you… pack it all?”
“I did. Everything’s ready.” He kissed her cheek. “Let’s get Granny Belle home.”
An hour later, Callie ran her fingers over the rutted, aged marble balustrade along the Pont au Change and let her vision blur, turning the City of Lights into a haze of sparkle. A nearly full moon peeked from behind a cloud, sending a streak of gold over calm waters of the Seine.
Did Paris look like this that June night in 1944? Quite possibly. Despite the German occupation, Granny Belle had described a city where Picasso painted, Sartre wrote, and Coco Chanel sketched fashion that brought Callie’s great-grandmother to tears.
And a spy named Jeremiah sold flowers to defeat the enemy.
“There’s a plaque over there that says the Romans first built this bridge almost two thousand years ago.” Ben’s voice, low and close, sent a familiar chill over her as he stepped behind Callie and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Lot of history right here.”
“A lot,” she agreed. History that had changed her life. “Do you think what we’re about to do is illegal?”
He lifted her hair and kissed her neck, nearly melting her. “In some countries, this is illegal.” He flicked his tongue on her skin, the gesture hot and sweet and full of promise. “But certainly not France.”
She smiled at the innuendo. “I meant the ashes.”
“Yes, it’s illegal.” He let her hair fall and lifted the small satchel he’d brought from the hotel. “But there’s no law against dropping roses in the Seine.” He set the bag on the wide bridge railing. “And no one is looking.”
“I think someone’s looking.” Callie glanced up to the sky, finding a star. “And I think she likes our idea to mix the flowers with… her.”
“I bet she does,” Ben agreed. “So go ahead, Callie. Send her home.”
Callie opened the bag and tipped it over, the first few white rose petals floating like snow toward the water. “Au revoir, Belle Dumond. Je t’aime.”
When the last of the petals and the ashes drifted onto the water, Ben took the bag and put it on the ground, turning Callie to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.
“Someday,” he said softly. “I want you to say that to me.”
“Good-bye?”
He just smiled. “I love you.”
“Maybe I will, Benjamin Youngblood. Maybe someday I will.”
Arm in arm, they crossed the bridge as the petals dusted with love disappeared down the Seine and two stars uncrossed to twinkle in the heavens.
*****
ROXANNE ST. CLAIRE
Roxanne St. Claire is a RITA™-winning New York Times bestselling author of nearly thirty titles published worldwide. The author of the multi-book Bullet Catchers series and numerous other romantic suspense novels, Roxanne’s new contemporary romance, Barefoot in the Sand, as well as her debut young adult novel, Don’t You Wish, hit bookstores in 2012. In addition to the RITA, her books have won the Daphne du Maurier Award, multiple National Readers’ Choice Awards, the Holt Medallion, Booksellers Best, and Border’s Top Romance Pick for 2007. Visit her website, www.roxannestclaire.com or Facebook Reader page, www.facebook.com/roxannestclaire.
If you enjoyed this Bullet Catcher adventure, be sure to check out the entire series, available in all eBook formats. Chapter excerpts, character sketches and biographies, and buy links are easy to find at www.roxannestclaire.com.
THE BULLET CATCHERS
A “bullet catcher” is a common name for a bodyguard, but there’s nothing common about these bodyguards. They are trained to protect, willing to die, and drop-dead gorgeous.
The Bullet Catchers are an elite group of security and protection specialists considered the cream of the crop of contract bodyguards. Every one of the eight novels and three novellas in the Bullet Catchers series is a stand-alone romantic adventure featuring one Bullet Catcher and his or her romantic match. But love is never easy, and the woman who runs the Bullet Catchers, Lucy Sharpe, knows that. She tests her team… physically and emotionally. And only the strong survive… and earn their happily ever after.
Start anywhere in the series...end up in love.
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Kill Me Twice—Bullet Catcher Alex Romero
When private investigator Jazz Adams discovers her twin sister is missing, she teams up with Bullet Catcher Alex Romero in a fast-paced thriller to stop a killer before he takes not one life, but two.
What the critics say...
“Kill Me Twice literally vibrates off the pages with action, danger, and palpable sexual tension. St. Claire is exceptionally talented!”
-The Winter Haven News Chief
“Kill Me Twice is a riveting thriller! Well-written with a plot full of suspense, I never saw the ending coming. Ms. St. Claire has created a dynamic, action-packed mystery and has successfully woven in a sensual love story. I am hooked! I love The Bullet Catchers!”
-Joyfully Reviewed
From the pages of Kill Me Twice...
“Looks like I’ve jumped the wrong Miss Adams.” He was so close that Jazz could see her own reflection in the man’s inky-colored pupils. Leave it to her to get assaulted by a guy who looked like Enrique Iglesias, had the body of a personal trainer, and a mind like Sherlock Holmes.
“The wrong Miss Adams?” Jazz repeated, stalling for time. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes you do.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean.”
He pinned her with another black-eyed glare. “Where’s Jessica?”
Good goddamn question. “I am Jessica.”
“You are full of shit. You’re her twin sister.”
Jazz stifled a sigh of surrender. “What difference does it make who I am?”
“It makes a huge difference. Your sister isn’t safe.”
A sobering uneasiness spiraled through her. “How do you know that?”
“Because someone wouldn’t go to the expense and trouble of protecting her if the threats to her security weren’t legitimate.”
Damn it, he was right. “She never mentioned any threats to me.”
“Let’s try this again,” he said, a whisper of a smile softening the angles of his fa
ce as he reached his hand toward her. “My name is Alex Romero. And you are… Jasmine Adams?”
This time, she shook his hand. His fingers were as long and strong as the rest of him, his palm warm. “Jazz. Let’s just be clear, here. Are you a stalker or a bodyguard?”
He laughed softly as he let her hand go, then ran his fingers through the straight black hair that fell over his eyebrow, covered his ears, and hung well past the collar of his black shirt. She’d had her hands on that hair, and it had reminded her of a thick, silky mane on a thoroughbred stallion.
“I’m Jessica’s personal security professional.”
Of course he was. Only her sister, world’s luckiest person, could win the Lottery of Bodyguards.
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Thrill Me to Death—Bullet Catcher Max Roper
When a young heiress and widow Cori Peyton hires a bodyguard in the aftermath of her husband’s suspicious death, she never expects the man to protect her is the one who once broke her heart. But as Cori and Max close in on a killer, their high-stakes romance could cost everything, including her life.
What the critics say...
“Fast-paced, sexy romantic suspense! A book that will keep the reader engrossed in the story from cover to cover.”
-Booklist
“St. Claire expertly entertains through the novel's emotional twists and sensual turns, rocketing us through a series of exciting events that make this thriller one heck of a love story. Add Max Roper and the Bullet Catchers to your stable of hunky romance heroes.”
-wnbc.com
From the pages of Thrill Me to Death...
Cori seized the business card, the blood draining from her head so fast the letters danced as she read the name. Max Roper. “No. The universe could not be so cruel and twisted.”
At the top of the stairs, a shadow eclipsed the glittering party lights. She didn’t have to look and he didn’t have to speak.
She knew who it was.
“The universe is most definitely a cruel and twisted place.” His sinful baritone rumbled right through her. “You of all people know that, Mrs. Peyton.”
She looked up and swayed a little. But that was surely from her high heels sinking in the lawn and not the impact of a man she once loved and now hated.
“What are you doing here, Max?”
“Lucy Sharpe sent me.”
“You?” She injected a healthy dose of disgust into the syllable.
“Me.” He descended two steps, but that did nothing to diminish the sheer size of him. Maximilian P. Roper III was six-feet-four inches of unforgiving muscle and man. No doubt he made an excellent bodyguard.
But he wouldn’t be hers. Never, never, never.
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Take Me Tonight—Bullet Catcher Johnny Christiano
Sage Valentine is certain her roommate’s shocking suicide is related to www.takemetonite.com, a thrill-seeking website that arranges “faux” kidnappings and rescues, so Sage sets up her own “abduction” to get answers. But what she gets is a hunk of a bodyguard secretly assigned to protect her and an adventure so dangerous that death is only a double click away.
What the critics say...
“Roxanne St. Claire has outdone herself in Take Me Tonight by ratcheting up the suspense and action of the Bullet Catcher series. With quick-paced writing and twists and turns behind every corner, Ms. St. Claire has pulled out all the stops, and you actually have to put Take Me Tonight down every once in awhile just to catch your breath.”
-Romance Reviews Today
“Sage and Johnny are both fantastic characters—smart and sexy with their own specific vulnerabilities and they generate a lot of heat together. Their chemistry is delicious and the way in which they banter, particularly when they first meet, makes for great fun.”
-All About Romance
From the pages of Take Me Tonight...
Johnny watched her in the rearview mirror as he drove away from the failed kidnapping.
The woman crossed her arms, her cheeks more flushed with fury than her jog in the park or brush with a bad guy. “I was very clear in the application,” she said. “I wanted the most amount of time I could possibly have before the rescue. My contact promised me at least an hour with the actual kidnapper. An hour with the guy who’s supposed to be the best there is.”
“An hour? For what?” The question was out before Johnny could stop himself. He backpedaled fast. “I mean, isn’t the whole reason you sign up for this the rescue part? From a knight in shining…” He glanced at the dash and gave her his most endearing grin via the rearview mirror. “Toyota?”
She rolled her eyes. “I wanted the whole package.” She turned to the window, lost for a moment, then back to the mirror. “Do you do a lot of the rescues? Are you a regular?”
“Rescues? Oh, yeah, that’s all I do, sweetheart.” A bodyguard could certainly be considered a rescuer.
“And do you only work for takemetonite.com or are you a freelancer for other operations?”
How many sites were there where chicks paid for fantasy adrenaline rushes? Was this really a booming business? “Just this one.”
“Do you talk to them much? The girls you save?”
“If they want.” He had to give it more than this or she’d never believe he worked for the site. “I mean, I’ll talk if they, you know, bought the deluxe package.”
She leaned forward, pressing her fingers on his shoulders. “Let’s be clear here, pal. Is that deluxe business straight sex or something kinky?”
He tapped the brakes at a light and shrugged. “Hey, it’s your two grand, babe.”
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First You Run—Bullet Catcher Adrien Fletcher
On a mission to track down a baby given up in a black market adoption thirty years earlier, Bullet Catcher Adrien Fletcher zeroes in on Miranda Lang, a linguistics professor who may or may not be the right woman. As he works to get up close and personal enough to find out, Miranda’s own mission takes her straight into a deadly trap, forcing Adrien to forget his real mission and save her life... and his heart.
What the critics say...
“These books are sure to be knockout adventures, delicious romance and rollercoaster rides to send your heart pounding right out of your body!!!”
-Reader to Reader Reviews
“A+ First You Run is filled with heart-stopping suspense and a scorching hot romance which will keep you on the edge of your seat until you turn the last page. I wonder, if I ask very nicely, if Ms. St. Claire will send a bullet catcher my way!”
-Simply Romance Reviews
From the pages of First You Run...
“Miranda,” Fletch said softly, taking both her hands this time, “let’s get out of here.”
He felt her pulse jump under his fingertips. “No more sushi and small talk?”
“You’re leaving tomorrow morning. Do you really want to spend one more minute with a table between us?”
He watched her chest rise and fall with a slow, unsteady breath. “Where are we going?”
“If you have to ask, maybe we’re not going there after all.”
She wet her lips, inhaled, and gave him a long, direct gaze. “I’ve never slept with a stranger.”
He stood, placed a few twenties on the table, and then helped her out of the chair. “Then let’s keep talking, so won’t be strangers anymore.”
He wrapped his arm around her to guide her to the door, pulling her into his flank, and settling his hand over a slender, but nicely curved, hip.
“Is it my turn to ask questions, now?” she asked.
“Absolutely. What would you like to know about me?”
She gave him a sly, flirtatious smile. “Anything I should know before we walk out of this restaurant together.”
“Fair enough. Let’s see… I’m a former member of the Tasmanian
Special Ops police, the best kicker on my rugby team, a stellar bodyguard, an exemplary employee, a trustworthy mate, a half-decent surfer, a lousy cook…” He pushed open the restaurant door, walked her around the corner and pressed her against the brick wall. “And a helluva good kisser.”
---------------------------------------------------------------
Then You Hide—Bullet Catcher Wade Cordell
Special ops sharpshooter Wade Cordell thinks the job to hunt down a woman on vacation in the Caribbean and bring her home will be the cushiest assignment he’s ever taken for the Bullet Catchers. But one look at Vanessa Porter and everything easy turns into hard and wild and extremely dangerous as they team up to outsmart a vicious killer.
What the critics say...
“If you love a suspenseful tale that will leave you guessing and hot characters with enough heat to set fire to everything they touch, then you will not want to miss this book!”
-Fallen Angels Reviews
“With a sizzling romance, and a fast-paced, pulse-pounding mystery, readers will find themselves swept away to a sultry Caribbean island where both danger and love await. Then You Hide is the perfect summer read. Don’t miss it!”
-Kwips&Kritiques
From the pages of Then You Hide...
Vanessa Porter was not his type.
Not that Wade didn’t appreciate a tall, sexy blonde as much as the next male, especially when her black tank top and white shorts hugged some sweet curves. But something about her irritated him—even from fifty feet away with clusters of tourists separating them across St. Kitts’s main port.
The horn-rimmed glasses? A power play. The speed of her trajectory? That screamed Yankee to him. The little left-right sway in her backside that grabbed the eye of every man she passed? He despised women who drew attention to themselves. Her generous breasts were more than the requisite handful, her hair needed a six-inch trim and something to keep it from flying all over the place, and those thighs? They didn’t quite touch at the top, as if there was room for… someone else in there.
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