Five Dates with the Billionaire - Alyssa J. Montgomery Page 0,51

her side.’

‘No way she’d agree.’

‘Do you need a security detail too?’

‘I’m headed for Paris from Venice. The flight will board any minute. I think I’ll be good for now.’ But Lou Correlli did know who he was. ‘Let’s see what you find out and we’ll make a decision then.’

‘Stay safe, Connor. Even if there’s a link between your employee and the Mafia guy, I wouldn’t expect you’d be in any danger … unless she’s doing something illegal at work and you catch her out. Could she be trying to get something on you for them to use as blackmail? Some type of hold on your business empire?’

Holy hell.

‘I don’t know. I need answers as quickly as possible.’

‘You need them. I want them. It’s a long time since I’ve had a case like this to get my teeth into. I’ll call a couple of my people and put them on it immediately. Don’t worry buddy, we’ll work all night if we have to.’

‘Impressive.’ Especially given it was late on a Sunday evening.

A boarding announcement for the British Airways flight to Paris came through the public address system.

‘I’ve got to board now.’

‘I’ll phone you in the next couple of hours when we have something more.’

Seconds later, Mia emerged from the bathroom.

Connor wanted to tell her what he’d learned and demand an explanation. He suppressed the instinct. It was better to hold his cards close to his chest and wait for more information.

‘Let’s go,’ was all he said as she joined him and picked up her carry-on luggage.

Mia liked to blend into the background. Was she hiding from this Mafia guy?

Why had she cultivated a friendship with his grandmother?

Questions circled around in his head like a revolving door.

She’d demanded they sleep separately from now on, and that was fine with him. Until he worked out Mia’s game, common sense told him to keep his distance from her.

When had it ever been so bloody difficult to listen to common sense?

Chapter Fifteen

‘Goodnight, Connor.’

They were booked into the two-bedroom Suite Impériale at the Ritz Hotel, but once she had her room key, Mia stalked off to the lifts without bothering to wait for him.

Their entire trip to Paris had been one of stony silence.

Connor would’ve preferred an argument. Anything would be better than this awkwardness.

Remember you need to keep your distance.

Uncertainty pressed in on him. A man used to having all the answers, he was way out of his comfort zone. Fighting the urge to follow her and demand answers, he made his way to the Hemmingway Bar. Once he was nursing a scotch, he used his phone to search the internet for Lou Correlli.

Bloody hell.

There were a staggering number of references to the mobster known as ‘The Reaper’. The first article claimed that Correlli worked as a hit man for Giovanni Lucetti—the son of one of the five Mafia dons in New York. Although Correlli was suspected of having orchestrated over eighty murders for the Lucetti family, he’d never been convicted of any crime other than failure to pay parking fines.

How could Mia possibly be mixed up with Correlli?

Connor typed in a search for Giovanni Lucetti. Looking up from his phone as the articles loaded, he saw Mia walking through the lobby towards the exit.

Where the hell was she going at this time of night?

Even from this distance, there was a strong pull. A need to be by her side.

Ruthlessly, he crushed his feelings of desire.

Putting the scotch down without taking another sip, he reached the hotel entrance as Mia got into the back seat of a taxi.

In a scene reminiscent of every old-fashioned spy movie he’d ever seen, Connor jumped into the next waiting taxi and said, ‘Bonsoir, monsieur. Follow that taxi!’

The driver obviously saw the funny side and chuckled before adding, ‘I saw the lady. I can understand why you are following her.’

The guy had no idea.

Tension worked its way up across Connor’s shoulders and tightened the muscles at the back of his neck as they followed the taxi along the Place Vendôme and into Rue de la Paix. When it pulled up ahead of them at the Westminster Hotel, Connor said, ‘Pull over here, will you?’

Without a concrete plan, he waited until Mia entered the hotel before he paid the driver.

Each breath shallower than the last, he got out of the taxi slowly—almost afraid of what he’d discover if he kept following her.

From the footpath, he could see her inside speaking to a staff member at the concierge desk. There was a