Page 9 of Icebound

“That’s hardly an excuse to keep her here. She could disrupt everything. Have Flambeau finish her, or I will.”

Jean-Marc just looked at him. “You’re more squeamish than I could ever be. You rescue street cats.”

“Maybe I like cats better than humans,” Luc countered.

“I don’t blame you. I want to find out what she knows first.”

“Well, then, ask her. I’ve seen you get information out of an unwilling subject—it wasn’t pretty. Is it because she’s a woman?”

Bastien cocked his head. “I’ve spent the last weeks planning how to kill a woman—I’m hardly likely to draw the line at some busybody American tourist.”

“Then let Flambeau finish her.”

“He’s not as good at extracting information. He’s got a heavy hand.”

Luc made an exasperated sound. “You sure you don’t recognize her? Someone from your murky past?”

Jean-Marc narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t have forgotten a wife. If I did, it would be Maddelena. This one might come in handy. If you’ve got a problem with that, then take it up with Le Fauçon.”

“You know he’s impossible to find.”

“Then shut the fuck up.”

Luc stared at him. “Seems to me you’re awfully sensitive about⁠—”

“Enough. A submissive woman might be useful in Bellagio. Have you forgotten? The invitation to the gala is for a couple. If I show up alone, it would cause talk, and I have every intention of getting in and out without being noticed.”

“You think bringing an unwilling hostage with you is going to make things easier?” Luc said. “She doesn’t strike me as particularly submissive. And she’s hardly going to stand by and let you shoot an international saint.”

Jean-Marc’s smile was chilling. “You’ve forgotten my notorious ways with women. She thinks I’m her missing husband. I’ll get her to do exactly as I want, and if she proves difficult, you can give her some of those little blue pills you feed me.”

Luc’s expression darkened. “Your memory’s not back completely. Those are supposed to be help—they’re hardly keeping you complacent. In fact, you’re foggy about the recent past. Who says you didn’t meet this woman at some point, marry her, and⁠—”

“I’m already married. I don’t think I’d let that little detail slip my mind. This woman is a stranger, but she might come in handy. If not, I’ll give her to Flambeau. Just as long as he does it elsewhere—all that screaming might prove distracting and we’re running out of time.”

Luc let out an exasperated snort. “I think you knew that woman, during the time that’s all a convenient blur. I think she was someone who got close to you, and⁠—”

“If I did know her and have somehow managed to forget her, it’s all the more reason to keep her around. She might have the answers to what happened to me.”

“Then ask the dumb bitch!”

Jean-Marc rose to his full height, and Luc took an involuntary step back. “Who is in charge here?” he said softly.

“You are,” Luc said immediately. “But I’m supposed to be looking after you, making things easier…”

“You’re pissing me the hell off.” His voice was low and cold, and Luc paled. Jean-Marc Clement was a very dangerous man, and he’d be a fool to forget that.

“Sorry, boss,” he said hastily. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Remember that,” Jean-Marc’s steely voice was soft, terrifying. “I’m going out to meet with Stephane…”

“But you’re not supposed to leave here,” Luc protested, then stopped.

“Since you’re so bewitched by my not-wife, it makes sense that I talk with the one man who’d know something about her. Nothing happens in this part of the city without Stephane being aware. Just make sure Flambeau behaves himself.”

“He’ll be easier to handle if you let him play a bit.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “He’ll have his chance eventually. Right now, I have a use for her, assuming I can make her compliant enough. Flambeau will simply have to wait his turn.”