Read Kissed in Paris for Free Online

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    “ Salut, Julien .”
    A short, balding man in a long-sleeved, black collared shirt appeared on a staircase across the room. That definitely was not Claude.
    Julien’s body immediately tensed up. He narrowed his eyes and began barking in French.
    I struggled to understand as the little bit of French I’d taken in college wormed its way back into my brain, but all I could get out of his rant was the word où which meant “where.” Before I could figure out the rest, the man with the shiny bald spot on his head shouted something completely incomprehensible in French. Well, completely incomprehensible to me at least.
    Julien must’ve understood him perfectly—and he must not have liked it one bit—because he charged across the room, flew up the stairs and punched the guy straight in the jaw.
    I backed up against the doorway and covered a hand over my mouth to stifle my scream. Julien leaned over the man, grabbed him by the collar and kneed him in the groin. The man moaned loudly and curled into a ball as Julien let go of him and continued grilling him in French.
    The man hesitated, then finally yelped out a response. Julien flared his nostrils and huffed out a loud breath before turning to me.
    “Let’s go. Claude is not here.”
    I peered over Julien’s shoulder at the man on the stairs who was still hunched over, groaning and rubbing his jaw. He lifted his eyes to meet mine, and for a brief second I actually felt bad for him.
    What had I gotten myself into?
    Julien stormed out of the cottage, his black boots scuffing along the dirt path as he mumbled what I assumed to be French obscenities under his breath.
    “What the hell was that?” I asked.
    “I had to do that to find out what I needed to know.”
    “So where’s Claude?”
    “Claude is gone.”
    “What about my passport?”
    “It is with Claude.”
    “Well, where the hell is he?”
    “He knows the police are after him, so he is on his way to Annecy.”
    I struggled to keep up with Julien as he turned back down the wooded path.
    “Where is Annecy? Can we get there in time to find my passport and make my flight?”
    Julien shook his head. “No, it is several hours from here. You are not going to make your flight, Chloe. I am sorry.” He ran his hands through his messy hair as a bead of sweat ran down his cheekbone and under his chin.
    The panic I’d been swallowing for the past hour overcame me as I realized that I was completely screwed.
    “But I’m getting married! In six days!” I shouted, not caring about all the jolly tourists passing by.
    Julien didn’t respond. Instead, he kept walking.
    “Didn’t you hear me? I said I’m getting married in less than a week. My fiancé will be waiting for me at the airport tonight and you don’t even own a phone that I can use to call him and tell him I won’t be there. My sister is flying in tomorrow, and we have a million things to do before the wedding. I have to make that flight.”
    “Maybe you should’ve thought of all of this before you accepted a drink from Claude last night.”
    I stopped along the dirt path and leaned against one of the lamp posts to catch my breath. “Why did I trust you? What was I thinking? If I would’ve just stayed in Paris with the police, I could’ve explained to them again that I hadn’t done anything illegal, that Claude had stolen my things and my money, and one of them would’ve believed me. I mean, all they would have to do is pull up my spotless record and see that there is no way I would ever be involved in illegal activity. But now here I am, watching you beat up innocent men in country cottages. And I’m no closer to the airport, the U.S. embassy, or to getting my passport back.”
    “That man in the cottage was not innocent,” Julien said, still barreling down the path.
    “Well if you’re really some kind of government agent, why didn’t you arrest him? And how did he know your name?”
    “It seems that you keep forgetting I am