“Jo, someone’s coming,” Wayne hissed back, voice a bit worried. He turned on his watch, she noticed, his posture goingstiff.
Willing herself to calm, to focus, Jo took a breath, letting the information she’d gathered and the data she’d collected all pull into organized files within her mind. Internally, she looked over everything she’d done, envisioned everything that would be waiting for Yuusuke when he finally got this far. And then, with a burst of something vivid, a sensation that she could only describe as magical, she saw three, four,no, five different spots within her foundation that, if left alone, would bring the whole thingdown.
Quickly, Jo began working to fix the issues. How was it that she hadn’t noticed them before? Stupid, stupid,stupid!
“Jo!” Wayne shouted her name, making her jump, but even as she whipped around to see what was going on, her fingers never stopped their frantic typing. Which was amazing, really, considering the way her whole body went tense at the sight of a man hurrying into theroom.
“Two minutes!” Jo shouted, wincing when Wayne cursed inresponse.
“Hey! You two!” A voice demanded in French at her back. “Handsup!”
What followed was the sound of an obvious struggle, Jo doing her best to block it out and focus on the final threads she had to sew together. The sound of a fist connecting with what was either a jaw or a cheekbone brought a few seconds of silence, and Wayne was suddenly at her shoulder,panting.
“Let’s go!” He urged her on, but she had one more line to input. Furiously, she typed in the last breadcrumbs for Yuusuke to follow and then backed away from thekeyboard.
“Done.” She breathed out a sigh of relief, pulled her USB, and relished in the feeling of a sense of accomplishment that settled deep into her bones. Which was instantly followed by a rush of fear as she turned around, a gun pointed squarely at her head. She really was done having guns pointed ather.
“You have to the count of three to tell me who you’re working for,” the man, now sporting a black eye and bruised jaw, growled at her, clicking off thesafety.
“Come on, dollface.” Wayne’s fingers, long and warm, wrapped around her wrist. Slowly, he raised her hand, as if to signify their surrender, but his subtle tapping at her watch did not gounnoticed.
Before the man had a chance to start his countdown, Wayne and Jo shared a look, nodded, and turned off theirwatches.
It took a long moment before their disappearance seemed to register, a look of confusion and then terror spreading across the man’s face. Wayne and Jo stayed perfectly still, practically holding their breath despite the fact that they knew he could no longer see or hearthem.
It wasn’t until it was obvious the man wasn’t going anywhere, struck dumb by their vanishing act, that Jo’s heart started to slow. She looked from the man—gun forgotten and staring wide-eyed at the space where they had “once stood”—and over to Wayne. He looked startled himself, but his eyes were shining. Jo cleared herthroat.
The man ran over to the computer, looking for evidence that what he saw was real. Jo couldn’t help a smug grin. Like he’d find anything. Her finger tapped the flash drive, safely in her hoodie; she wasn’t thatclumsy.
“So, uh. . .” she started, hand still shaking with adrenaline as she ran it through her hair. “Wanna get out ofhere?”
Wayne looked away from the man hunched over the computer and settled his heavy gaze on her. There was a flush on his face and a grin tugging almost involuntarily at the corner of hislips.
When he laughed, uproarious, and maybe even a little hysterically, Jo couldn’t help but followsuit.
Chapter 19
Tomato
THERE WASNO way of knowing what time it was when Wayne and Jo stumbled back into their penthouse suite. Not that it mattered. Time was irrelevant now anyway. What she did know was that the sun had long since set, the view outside their balcony window illuminated by the city lights and the Eiffel Tower, lit up in all its agelessgrandeur.
“Now that, doll,” Wayne whistled, laughing to himself as he flopped down onto the plush, pillow smothered bed. “Was a ring-a-ding-ding.”
“I told you it’d be no big deal.” Jo rolled her eyes, but she was far too high off the adrenaline of their escape to be annoyed. She could still feel the success of their mission pumping like blood through her veins, thrumming with energy andaccomplishment.
In attempts to settle her still-shaking hands, Jo grabbed a bottle of champagne out of the multitude they’d had room service send up, and began working at the metal cage around the cork. “Also, do me a favor and never use the term ring-a-ding-ding again.” She didn’t bother looking in Wayne’s direction, knowing he would properly ignore the request no matter what. “Andsecond—”
The cork popped free of the bottle the moment the wiring around it was loosened, the small projectile careening just over Wayne’s head to bounce off the wall with athunk. A deluge of foam cascaded down the neck, so before it could soil the carpets any further, Jo poured a glass of champagne for herself and for Wayne, admiring the way it bubbled behind the freshly washedcrystal.
“And second,” she began again, sitting herself on the edge of the bed and tipping the glass back for a nice, long swallow. The bubbles tickled her throat, the alcohol warming her stomach. She licked her lips and handed Wayne his own glass before continuing, giving the man a once-over. “‘Doll’ is getting kindaold.”
“Alright.” Wayne sat up, taking a quick swig of his own drink before shooting her a look. Jo was shocked, but mildly hopeful, that he was about to heed her request—at least until he opened his mouth again. “What about sweetpatootie?”
“What?” Jo sputtered, choking a bit on her champagne. She couldn’t help but laugh, though. “Thank you, butpass.”
“Okay, how about hotmama?”
“Also pass,” Jo grinned, still laughing. Wayne shifted a little bit closer to her on the bed, chuckling softly right along with her, even if the look in his eyes was more seductive thanamused.
