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Isabelle still couldn’t believe Marit had nearly lost her purse after everything she had already been through over the past two days. Walking ahead of Isabelle, Lars had his arm firmly around Marit’s shoulder, Marit’s free hand clutching her bag tightly to her side.

Isabelle had opted to go without a purse tonight, her wallet, Chap Stick, cell phone, and gun secured in the zipped pocket of her overcoat. Cole also had his hands free, except for the one holding hers.

The walk along the Seine had been so perfect up until the purse snatcher had shown up. They were due for a break.

“What are the chances that Marit would end up with her name on three police reports in two days?” Isabelle asked, her voice low.

“Until I got her call, I would have put the chances at zero for her name being on one police report.” Cole squeezed her hand. “I’d feel a lot better if you and Marit would move over into our hotel.”

Isabelle had entertained similar thoughts, enough to call and inquire about booking a room. “Your hotel is sold out until after Fashion Week.”

“You called?”

“Yes, while I was waiting for Marit and Nadia after the second casting call.” Isabelle shrugged. “I needed something to distract me from the thought of going through a third one.”

“I know this isn’t what you had in mind for this trip, but thanks for helping out.”

“Marit’s a good friend,” Isabelle said. “Besides, she would do the same thing for me.”

“That’s true,” Cole said. “Have you talked to your boss about taking some extra time off?”

He was speaking of her boss at the bank, not Jasmine. “I had already warned him that I might take the whole week off, but once Marit and Esmee started taking me on casting calls, I asked to stay here through Fashion Week.”

“He was okay with that?”

“Yes. Even after taking time off during the holidays, I still have a good deal of unused leave on the books.”

“That’s a good thing,” Cole said as they approached Marit and Isabelle’s building. “Do you know if Esmee got the locks changed?”

“No, I don’t, but we’ll find out soon enough.” She wasn’t sure what Cole would do if the locks hadn’t been taken care of. She didn’t particularly want to find out.

Cole stopped at the corner, his grip on her hand encouraging her to do the same. As soon as Isabelle faced him, he said, “I’m going to head over to the embassy and pick up some motion sensors and security cameras. The batteries in mine are all dead after my last mission. I’ll call you as soon as I get back.”

Isabelle glanced at Lars and Marit, who now stood by the entrance. Despite the several meters between them, she lowered her voice. “No need. I brought some with me.”

Cole lifted his eyebrows. “You brought some with you?” he asked.

“I didn’t know what I’d find here, and I thought it best to be prepared.”

Cole gave a slight nod. “How many cameras did you bring?”

“Four. I’ll set them up in the hall and in the living room to cover the door and the balcony.”

Admiration and a look of approval flashed on his face. “Send me the access code, and Lars and I can take turns watching the feed.”

“That would be helpful.” Isabelle sighed. “I’m exhausted.”

“I bet.” Cole glanced over her shoulder before he lowered his head and kissed her.

The moment his lips met hers, her insides melted, and she leaned into him. Cole lifted his hands to frame her face. Her arms encircled him, her fingers brushing against the edge of the holster at his waist.

Despite the reminder that neither of them was exactly what they appeared to be to the world around them, she couldn’t help losing herself in the moment. They were in Paris together, the Eiffel Tower glowing in the distance. The love she felt for him swelled within her.

A tingle rippled along her skin, goose bumps forming. When he finally pulled back, he lowered his forehead until it pressed gently against hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

Cole gave her another kiss. “Try to get some sleep.”

“What about you and Lars? You need sleep too.”

“Lars and I can take naps when you’re doing your modeling thing.”

Modeling at Paris Fashion Week. Isabelle might never have aspired to such a feat, but she was well aware that this was a dream for many in the modeling industry. “I don’t know whether to hope I can get these jobs or pray that I don’t.”

“The more jobs you get, the more access you have to Marit.”

“And the more likely it is I’ll spot any possible threats.” Isabelle sighed. “I really do need to go to bed early.”

“Do me a favor when you get to your flat and stand next to a window. I want to see if you’re on the hotel side.”

“We are.” She furrowed her brow. “Are you planning to spy on us?”

“I’m hoping to make sure no one can use any outside access to get to your room.”

“It sounds better when you say it that way.” Isabelle stepped back. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Call if you need anything.”

“I will.” Isabelle leaned in for one last kiss before she continued to the door that Lars currently held open for Marit.

“Ready?” Marit asked.

“Yeah.” Isabelle and Marit made their way up to the fourth floor. When they stepped out of the lift, Esmee was heading toward them. Nadia followed behind her, a large bag over her shoulder and a roller carryon suitcase behind her.

“What’s going on?” Marit asked.

Esmee held up two old-fashioned keys. “The locksmith was here earlier. Here are your new keys.” She handed them to Marit. “Nadia is taking the spare bed in Monica’s room so you and Isabelle have the flat to yourselves.”

“Any chance there are other available beds somewhere else in the building?” Isabelle asked. Switching rooms wouldn’t hurt.

“Sorry. Nadia took the last spot,” Esmee said, “but the building supervisor did add an extra guard for tonight.”

At least that was some improvement.

“We’ll see you in the lobby at eight in the morning. Don’t be late.” Esmee moved past them. “And call me if you have any problems.”

“Thanks, Esmee.” Marit continued past Nadia and unlocked the door.

Isabelle put her hand on her shoulder. “Do you mind if I go in first?”

“You’re sounding like Cole,” Marit said.

“He may have rubbed off on me a bit.” Isabelle stepped inside before she drew the gun from her coat. Keeping the pistol pointed at the floor, she checked out the bathroom, living room/kitchen space, and the two bedrooms.

She secured her weapon and called out, “It’s all clear.”

Marit hurried inside before closing and bolting the door behind her. “I’m not sure a new lock and an extra guard in the lobby is going to help me forget someone broke in here yesterday.”

Isabelle crossed to the window and pulled the curtains aside. She called Cole, who picked up a moment later. “I’m standing in the window.”

“I see you. Look up two floors to your left.”

Isabelle lifted her gaze to where Cole and Lars stood behind the glass of a sixth-floor window. “Hey, Marit. Come here.”

“Is there someone out there?” Marit hurried forward.

“An extra layer of protection.” Isabelle pointed at their boyfriends’ room.

“They aren’t planning to stay up all night to watch our window, are they?” Marit asked.

“They’re taking turns.” Isabelle moved away from the window and spoke into the phone again. “Make sure you and Lars get some sleep.”

“We will, but don’t forget to set up your security measures,” Cole said.

“I’ll do that right now.” Isabelle hung up and crossed to the bedroom to retrieve the equipment from her suitcase. She located the hard-sided silver case and carried it back into the living room.

“Did you want your own room now that Nadia isn’t staying with us?” Marit asked.

“Actually, it might be better for us to stay in the same room,” Isabelle said. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“I was kind of hoping you would say that.” Marit’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I know it’s silly, but I’ll feel better knowing that if I hear something, I can look at the bed beside me and know whether it could be you.”

“I get that.” Isabelle set the case on the table and opened it. Remembering that Marit had worked for her father’s security company as a teenager, Isabelle pulled out three of the cameras. “Want to set these up to cover the door and the windows?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. I’ll set up one in the hall so the guys can see our front door,” Isabelle said. “And then we can decide where we can set up the motion detectors without tripping them every time we need to go to the bathroom or fix something to eat.”

Marit held up one of the cameras and focused on Isabelle. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” Isabelle hugged Marit. “This is what friends are for.”

Marit laughed. “I hate to break it to you, but most friends don’t know how to disarm gunmen or set up surveillance equipment.” She eased back and looked Isabelle in the eyes. “Unless they work for the CIA or something.”

Isabelle’s pulse quickened. Suddenly, unexpectedly, she was on dangerous ground. Schooling her expression into a somewhat natural smile, she laughed. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” She paused, needing to deflect the conversation. “You already have the surveillance part down. How about we work on teaching you how to disarm gunmen? If I can do it, you can do it.”

Marit gave a resigned nod, and Isabelle’s tension eased a fraction.

“I’ll learn that gun trick you do if you promise it means I’ll never have to use it,” Marit said.

“I’ll certainly hope for that,” Isabelle replied. And she meant it. Just as much as she hoped that Marit wouldn’t revisit her suspicions about Isabelle’s involvement with the CIA.