Read From Paris With Love for Free Online

I’ll teach you basic self-defence and arm you with the necessary tools. I’ll make out you’re a suspect being taken in for interrogation. That way our time there will be undisturbed.’
    Secret bunker? I took a swig of water to calm me down, otherwise I might spontaneously combust! Living in Paris for a month was exciting enough, without all these spy shenanigans. Also, visiting their French headquarters would confirm Joe’s identity. Except, I’d so looked forward to settling into the flat with Edward and spending the next two days getting to visit the awesome landmarks and cafés, with a snog or two between croissants and espresso shots.
    ‘I don’t think that’s possible, you see…’
    ‘This part of the deal is non-negotiable,’ said Joe, in his clipped tone. ‘An intensive weekend in self-defence is a must. I’d be failing you if I didn’t teach you to the basics of looking after yourself.’
    ‘But…’
    Joe’s bottom lip twitched as he fiddled with his cuffs. ‘It’s not too late to pull out, Gemma. I’d understand if you want to walk away.’
    ‘Okay, okay, I agree to this intensive training weekend – but can’t I tell Edward the truth? He wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone.’
    Joe shook his head. ‘No – for his sake, the less he knows the better. Don’t tell anyone, including friends or family back home.’
    Shame. This would be the first big secret I’d ever kept from best mate Abbey. I scratched my head. Was this really happening? Agents? Death threats? Secret bunkers? It seemed bonkers, yet there was something in the eyes of this sincere Joe bloke that made me take him seriously.
    ‘At least let me return to the flat each night, to sleep. He’ll get suspicious if I’m suddenly away all weekend… I could say–’
    ‘Perhaps…’ said Joe. ‘Okay. That’s acceptable…’ He thought for a few seconds. ‘John will go back with you tonight, just to introduce himself to Edward. He’ll pretend to be a caterer you got talking to, hosting two big wedding events this weekend, who offered to teach you invaluable cookery skills in return for your help Saturday and Sunday as he needs more cheap pairs of hands… You say it’s too good an opportunity to turn down.’
    ‘You think of everything, don’t you?’ I said.
    Joe shrugged as if that was nothing out of the ordinary. Then with John, he headed off to make some private phone calls. Dear Edward, he wouldn’t complain. Sometimes he was almost too faultless… Well, apart from when he tried to get me interested in opera and contemporary paintings. That was one of the things that surprised me about Edward – stuffy and traditional as he was, he loved modern art. Many an argument we’d had over the value of paintings which consisted of just a few dots or lines. Me, I couldn’t wait to visit Monet’s waterlily paintings, here in Paris and also…Ow! These highfalutin thoughts came to a swift halt when the tramp next to me, with a vice-like grip, grabbed my arm.
    ‘Loose talk costs lives,’ he hissed, ‘as your countrymen said during ze war. Let me introduce myself. Many ‘ave ‘eard of me in ze criminal underworld. I am ze notorious “Man with ze Magic Baguette”…’
    He let go and reached towards his pocket. My adrenalin pumped. Sh… Sugar! This must have been a terrorist tracking us. Perhaps baguette was slang for a pistol.
    Losing my new, mature self-control for one second, and after a deep breath, I chucked my water in his face. Good diversion. Now, mustn’t panic. I – G – was an important government agent now.
    In my head, I repeated this mantra as a shocked Monsieur Magic Baguette roared. He grabbed my ankle as I stood to get up, whilst the Japanese tourists below turned around to take photos.

Chapter 4
    How was I to know that ‘Magic Baguette’ was a French nickname for a man’s best friend (and I don’t mean his dog)? That tramp was no terrorist but a right old pervert, just about to flash. By the