I'd Rather Be In Paris Read Online Free Page A

“Those circumstances dictated her actions or didn't you read Zara's report?"
    Maureen met his glare for less than a second before pointing at Annette. “I'd like to hear the tape that corresponds to the transcript I read. Did you bring it? Start where Zara confronts Dmitri."
    She doesn't believe me . Zara glanced at Flynn for help as Annette tapped the keys of her laptop. He made a small, almost unnoticeable gesture with his hand, telling her to relax. Don't let her think she's getting to you. The next second she heard her voice coming from the room's speaker system.
    "Dmitri!"
    As the recording played out, Zara's insides turned to Jell-O. Staring at the conference table and gritting her teeth, she struggled to keep her model-agent persona intact as she relived those awful moments. She clasped her hands in her lap as she listened to Dmitri's cold, calculating voice trade jabs with her.
    "...a little game I like to play..."
    "...I don't play games..."
    In her mind, she saw the farmhouse, saw Dmitri's ice-blue eyes. It was as if his arms were around her again, his finger trapping hers on the trigger of his gun.
    ...beep, beep, beep...
    The alarm on her watch had given her the microsecond of surprise she needed to throw all her weight to her right hip and jerk Dmitri's hand to the left. He pulled the trigger, but the bullet went astray and dropped his lieutenant instead of Tim.
    In the same instant, Lawson Vaughn and his Pegasus team had emerged from the forest surrounding the farmhouse, one man killing both guards, another training his weapon on the lieutenant who writhed on the ground. Still another man moved in to cover Tim.
    Zara had gone dizzy with relief. Tim's safe.
    At least that part of her plan had worked. All she'd had left to figure out was how to save herself...
    "...drop your weapon ... let her go..."
    Vaughn had aimed his weapon at Dmitri's head and the terrorist responded by shifting her to shield him from the deadly gun.
    Dmitri's lips next to her ear, his smoky breath had brushed her cheek as he chuckled. He forced the big black gun to her neck and all sensation had left her hand. She'd locked her knees and clamped her jaw, beseeching Lawson with her eyes. Please...
    Someone tapped a pen on the table, jolting her out of the memory. Flynn was frowning at her as if she'd missed something. Something important. Silence blanketed the room. She searched the gazes of the people staring at her. Was the tape done? “Sorry ... I ... uh..."
    At the slight shake of Flynn's head, Zara closed her mouth. “As you can see"—he shifted his focus to Maureen—"Agent Morgan had a handle on Dmitri then and she still does. She understands what makes him tick. She knows how to manipulate him."
    Maureen made a disgusted noise in her throat. “She took a huge risk—"
    "And it paid off,” Flynn interrupted. “Anything less and Tim Owens would be nothing but a star on the wall downstairs."
    Silence once again reigned as Flynn and Maureen stared each other down. Zara tried to ignore them.
    Michael Stone broke the tension this round, rolling up one, and then the other, of his shirt sleeves with slow deliberation. “The purpose of this meeting was to determine whether we go after Dmitri and Vos Loo and see if we can pick up their trail. Is everyone in agreement that when we do find them, we'll take action?"
    Zara, Annette and Flynn nodded in unison. Maureen drew in a deep breath, pressed her lips into a thin line for a long moment. “Agreed,” she said, reluctance ringing in her tone. “But what action we take needs to be decided now as well."
    Stone shook his head. “We can't make that call until we know what they're doing."
    Flynn shifted his attention back to Zara, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. “You up for fieldwork again, Tango?"
    Flynn had christened her with the nickname Tango after her daring rescue because she'd danced with Dmitri and lived to tell about it. Not something any other American or French