Passion Patrol Box Set 1

Combat-3-4

Anna thanked her, watching her light a cigarette and stride away towards Victoria Street on her way to her meeting at the Yard. Now that she had gone she felt a surge of warmth and emotion for the woman. She was a brilliantly talented but unfulfilled human being. Just a few days ago Anna would never have been able to know the burden of Love by its absence. What longings lay buried in the heart of Deputy Assistant Commissioner Christine Jones, she could only guess. Now she must turn to her own quest and follow it through regardless of cost.

Chapter 10“What should I take to wear?” she asked Judy excitedly when she got back to the office.

“Will you be out on the boat?”

“Of course, I’ll need to be sexy and smart for Paris.”

Her mind swam with all the conflicting aspects of the next few days. The thought of his body, the scent of his skin, his broad massive shoulders filled her. How to uncover his contacts? Could she just take his mobile? Would she be able to betray him - the only man who had ever made her feel this way - the only man she had ever loved?

The desk phone was ringing. Judy mimed that it was Beaumont and hung up.

“His master’s voice - he wants to see you,” she said with a weak grin.

“Deep joy,” said Anna. She was not surprised and he would be smarting after the meeting. Nothing he could do or say could stop her now. She threw back her head and walked down the corridor.

“Sit down Inspector,” he sneered with a languid flourish of his hand towards a chair in front of his oversized executive desk. He had always rejected issue furniture and moved around with his own fittings.

“Quite a little triumph this morning,” he continued.

“Let’s just get on shall we,” she hissed.

“Ah, yes forgive me. Let us do just that.”

His words slithered out like snakes as he opened a desk drawer and tossed a copy of the Evening Standard at her, “Page seven - the London Ear gossip column.”

“Is this a game?” she asked angrily.

“That’s what I want to know Anna...”

Anna flicked through the pages. Her eyes fell on a photo of Freddie outside his Chelsea restaurant. The girl by his side was partly hidden by a chance swirl of dark hair across her face.

Her heart leapt. She had been in some tight spots and she had to keep her nerve.

“So - he’s got a girlfriend,” she shrugged.

“Girlfriend!” he exploded, “girlfriend! Do you think I don’t know who that is?”

She stared back at him. The gloves were off and she had nothing to lose.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’ll start by making a call to your mistress and champion Christine Jones.”

“Will you - and say what? Tell her that Freddie has a girl?”

“Tell her that her little favorite is a lying conniving b***h who set up an intelligence briefing so that she could shag some thug in the South of France at the taxpayer’s expense,” he thundered.

“Are you saying I can’t do a professional job on La Salle?” she retorted.

“I’m sure you’re a pro in the bedroom!”

“Look Beaumont - let’s keep to business. If you think you can prove that’s my photo you had better go ahead. Christine Jones may not care - she might think I’m a hero for getting so deep undercover - except it’s not me! And believe me mister - I’ll deny it. I’ve never revealed how you scrambled away from me when you thought I could go to jail. If you interfere with me I’ll make sure your name stinks.”

“How dare you speak to me like that Inspector? You will address me as your superior officer.”

“I’ll make your name stink Sir!” she shouted.

He stood up and paced the room, “I can convince anyone that it is you,” he fumed.

“And look like a small man with a big grudge. You need this squad to succeed as much as anyone. Nelson put his telescope to his blind eye and went on to be a national hero. There’s a spare plinth in Trafalgar Square for you Beaumont,” she said, watching him calculating and weighing up his options and how it could affect his career. No one on the way up could risk any sort of trouble. “You engineered my placement on this squad to keep your influence over me. Any hint of harassment or a***e of power and you’re finished,” she continued, beginning to relax as she saw her words cutting in to him. In truth she had no desire to ruin him. She had used him in the same way that he had used her. He knew she could very possibly get some evidence to swing this case and no one would thank him for spoiling the opportunity. There was nothing for him to gain and whether or not she was Freddie’s lover made no professional difference.

He stood motionless looking out of the window.

“Just get out Anna - just get out! This conversation never happened.”

She thought for as moment. He was still dangerous. He could give an anonymous tip off either inside the police or outside. She was going to get close to some pretty ruthless characters and had no desire to die just yet.

“If ever I thought you’d exposed me, I’ll finish you Beaumont - you know that don’t you,” she said icily, looking directly into his eyes.

“Deep down you’re a ruthless selfish b***h Anna.”

“I try Sir. I really do try,” she replied almost smiling.

“I told you to get out!” he hissed with a strangled anger.

She turned and walked calmly from the room to her own office. She’d trodden on some thin ice in her time... and one day it would give beneath her feet. She had been dishonest and devious. Everything she had achieved for herself was on the line. If she used Freddie to full advantage it could slingshot her career to the top. But then the thought of his name made her repeat it over and over as if he were holding her and she was kissing him. She cupped her face in her hands as she remembered his kind intelligent eyes, the touch of his powerful hands.

“Hey - what’s up?” Judy asked.

“You startled me - you should have gone home.”

“I’ve been getting your briefing file together - it looks like you had a pretty torrid interview.”

“I’m in the Standard with Freddie - we were snapped at his restaurant, but you can’t see my face. Beaumont knows but I’ve convinced him to keep his trap shut.”

“I’ve loaded everything onto your laptop. There’s a blank SIM card in the carry case for copying the files off his mobile. The FBI is interested in a mob lawyer called Gino Scapaticci. He’s believed to be masterminding the gambling and is also Brennan’s business manager. He has booked a flight to Nice, landing on Wednesday. It might just be coincidence that Freddie will be in the area, but come on... ”

“How would some mobster know what Freddie was doing - unless from the man himself - or Mom?” Anna queried thinking out loud.

“Quite so my dear Watson,” said Judy, “it may be nothing in itself but it makes me wonder about your man.”

She stifled an impulse to defend him, but being in love with him did not mean he was innocent.

“I do have an open mind,” she assured her friend.

“Open mind - open every b****y thing. I still remember passion before it got thrown out with the cold supermarket value beans and the disposable nappies,” laughed Judy.

Anna hugged her out of affection and gratitude for all she had done to help her. Butterflies rioted in her stomach at the thought that she would soon be with him.

“Just watch out mate,” warned Judy.

Anna grabbed her laptop and headed for the door. She had a plane to catch.

Chapter 11She was anything but frilly, yet this trip posed a wardrobe nightmare. She had to fly to Paris and spend at least a day and an evening there. Then she had to travel to the South of France, go out on a sea trial and spend a couple of evenings at dinner. In the end she took deck shoes, culottes and some T shirts. She chose the regulation black number, a deep blue strapless knee length dress, a dark red satin blouse and black mini skirt and a beaded oyster top and matching trousers. For good measure she threw in her black wrap, her faithful leather jacket and a smart fitted blazer. For general wear she took some Dolce and Gabbana hipster jeans, six pairs of shoes, the whole drawer of underwear and two silk night dresses. To travel she wore her Abercrombie hoodie and Levi jeans with ankle boots. With the suitcase forced shut she phoned the mini cab and swerved to Heathrow, texting Freddie with flight details.

She grabbed a coffee at Starbucks and glanced at the Sky News screen as she waited to board. Nothing mattered that this world could throw up - nothing. A face on the screen, half familiar, a line of text running below... Sports Journalist Peter Making found dead, police seeking information...

Anna sighed resignedly. Her number would be on his phone with the time of the call. She had decided to say nothing and now she was half in a frame. She should have told Judy but it was too late now. If Making had followed her to her flat then perhaps the killer had been on the same trail.

Even so she was alive... and she wanted to live. For now she was a girl who sold boats.

Twenty minutes after Air France 2271 had screeched from the dark night sky into Paris Charles De Gaulle she half ran through the doors into the arrivals hall. And there he was - tall, broad, tight muscled strong and handsome! His dark cropped hair adding to his air of toughness belied by his soft brown eyes. He wore a battered leather flight jacket, white T shirt, faded jeans and burnished brown leather chisel toed shoes. He looked delicious, ruthless, compassionate, sexy and hers!

Despite all her instructions to herself to stay dignified and cool, on impulse she found herself running towards him, towing her heavy wheeled case. He caught her and swept her up in his arms. Again she felt his overwhelming strength as he held her cradled her like a baby. The hard warm living steel of his body thrilled her, just as the tender gentleness of his searching kiss drained her of all resistance. He was holding her and she was his! There was nothing else in the world.

“Merci - for having come for me,” she gasped.

“Nothing could have stopped me Chérie,” he said in his deep voice.

He took her bag as they walked to his car, his arm around her shoulder and his large hand spread down enough onto her chest to slightly raise her breast and increase her awareness of her n****e. Already she was longing for his touch, physically responding to him. She slipped into the car - a silver Mercedes CLS 500. As he leaned across and kissed her cheek she ran her fingers back through his hair and breathed in his cologne and potent male scent. She folded her fingers around his neck, feeling his bull strength. He raised his hand to her cheek and through her hair. The thrill of his touch sent jolts of excitement sparking through her flesh, tingling in her breasts and the apex of her thighs. She pulled him towards her, wanting him inside, knowing that she would come if he just touched her. He was total male and she was woman.

“This is so wonderful and so crazy,” she whispered

“Anna - the other night - things just happened. It was so overwhelming. It was as if everything had led me to you,” he replied, bathing her soul in the warm sweeping torrent of his dark eyes.

“This is supposed to be a business trip,” she laughed.

“And so it is. It entirely our own business - and I do want a boat,” he beamed.

“Of course,” she sighed, settling back into the soft leather as he nudged the powerful Mercedes out of the airport and into the tumble and jumble of le Boulevard Peripherique.

It had been quite a day and now she could relax. She enjoyed the silent surging push of the Mercedes but was slightly surprised by his choice of such a businessman’s car.

“I thought maybe you would have a Ferrari,” she commented.

“When I won the world title I bought one - and every punk wanted to race the champ. One day I dreamed I would meet the most beautiful raven haired woman and I would want to hear what she said.”