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We play that game—who can hold out the longest without touching the other?

Or the better game—who can hold out the longest without giving in to their need for satisfaction?

She's a Chinese finger trap. The more I struggle, the harder it is to break free of her.

Only I don’t want to break free. I want to be stuck inside that little tube for all eternity.

But I’m not here for personal reasons.

No, this is business.

My phone buzzes. My heart thuds against my chest. My blood rushes south.

Not going there.

My body tries to negotiate. Shifts the image so Jamie is slipping out of her dress from behind bars.

But the text isn’t from her.

It’s from another woman. A date. We went out a few times. We talked, we kissed, we fucked.

It was pleasant enough, but we couldn’t connect on a deeper level.

Not with our clothes on. And not with them off.

Now that I remember the way I felt staring into Jamie’s eyes, I can’t tell myself I might develop feelings for this woman.

There’s no magic there. There never was.

I let her down gently.

I look at the picture again. A live photo. She sent it as soon as she took it.

This is an invitation. There must be a way to find her.

Or one coming.

She doesn’t text me because she’s bored. Not since I turned her in to the French police. So why the hell is she talking now?

I study the picture until I find the clue she left.

The pale pink robe in the corner. Not the one she owned. But similar.

Italian lingerie.

She always wore Italian lingerie. She wants me to know she’s in my other home country.

But I’m not taking her bait.

This time, I’m the one who outsmarts her.

And I know just how to do it.

Chapter

Five

JAMIE