Paris Love Match - By Nigel Blackwell Page 0,42
shouting directions. After a couple of minutes, they slowed. She led them through a department store and out of a side exit. She bent over, clutching her side. Piers was panting hard.
“Merde,” she said.
“You have a way with words.”
She massaged her stomach. “Damn, that hurts.”
“Sorry,” said Piers.
“Sorry? You bloody well should be. Next time you steal a car, let’s use it to get away, huh?” Her eyebrows were at angles as sharp as her tone.
“It was all I could think of at the time.”
The angles on her face melted and she gave a snort of laugher. “It was pretty funny.”
Piers smiled. “I can’t wait to see that on TV.”
Sidney waved two envelopes. “I can’t wait to see what’s in these.”
Chapter 19
Piers’ feet ached. After running from the bank, they had settled into a steady walking pace and he’d lost track of how far they had traveled. “Sidney, we’ve got to stop and think.”
She came to a halt and Piers almost walked into her. “You think we’re far enough away?” she said.
“Much farther and we’ll have to swim the channel.”
“So, more coffee?”
“Christ, no. I’ve had enough caffeine to keep me awake for weeks.”
She held her hand out as if to sample the weather and looked up into darkening clouds. “Which we’re probably going to have to do.”
He furrowed his brow.
She rolled her eyes. “Stay awake. We’re not exactly going to check into a hotel tonight, are we?”
He clapped his hands on her shoulders. “That’s brilliant.”
She brushed him off. “If you’re trying to be funny, it’s not working.”
“No. A hotel. We don’t need to get a hotel. I’ve already got one.”
“You own a hotel?”
“No! I have a room booked in the company’s name, not mine. They always do that. Corporate policy.”
“Er.”
“It’ll be all right. We can hide out, think, and sleep.”
“Together?”
“Yes. I mean, no. No, no, I don’t want to sleep with you. I just meant—”
“You don’t like me?” She gave an angelic smile, angled her head, and blinked at him.
“No, I do like you.”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “But you don’t want to sleep with me?”
“Exactly. No, I mean, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What? I’m not your sort?”
“No. I mean—”
“So, what is your sort? What sort do you like? Let me know and I’ll see what I can do to set you up with your sort.”
Piers fell silent. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed. “Why do you take everything so seriously?”
“Our lives are at stake, in case you’d forgotten.”
“I haven’t forgotten, but I have another idea.”
He cocked one eyebrow.
She winked, “Since you’re not keen on the idea of sleeping together.”
He shrugged. “Very funny. We need a plan. It’s not like we can stay awake at an all-night rave.”
“Oh.” She looked sheepish.
“You were thinking of going to a rave?”
“No! A club.” She dug two tickets from a pocket and handed them to Piers. “It’s just off the river. Bernard’s. I know the owner. They stay open all night.”
He turned the tickets over in his hands. “It’s hardly a place to sit and think.”
“I wasn’t going to sit and think. It’s Friday night.”
“It’s Friday night and we’ve got the mob and the police after us. Great time for a dance.”
“What do you do on a Friday night?”
“I, er, I meet up. You know. With friends.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah, I have friends.”
“Female friends?”
“I have male friends and female friends.”
“Right. Right. So you go clubbing?”
“Well . . . sometimes.”
“What do you do on the other times?”
He straightened his back. “You know. We meet up. Have a few drinks. Go out and have a laugh.”
“Tell me about the females you know.”
“Well, there’s lots. I mean … even my boss is a woman.”
“Your boss?” Sidney slid her arm off Piers. “What do you really do on a Friday night?”
Piers opened his mouth, but she placed a finger across his lips. “No. What do you really do?”
He sagged back down. “Sometimes I meet up with a couple of friends of mine. We go for a beer, or play Xbox.”
“Grand theft?”
“Huh?”
“You play Grand Theft Auto, don’t you?”
Piers looked down at his hands. “Okay. So I don’t have much of a life compared to you.”
“Nah, I played it once. Crashed a lot. You just need to get out a bit more. Meet some real people. Relax.”
“You mean go to this club?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I know people there.”
“But—”
She wrapped her arm around his and pulled them close. “They have good music. We could dance. Have fun. You and me.”
Piers’ skin prickled and he licked his lips. His heart banged in