Return to Me (4 page)

Appreciation glinted in his eyes. “I think the window of opportunity will be closing soon. They know they’ll only be able to do this for so long until word gets out that there’s an online predator organization and what the MO is. If we’re going to find them and hopefully the girls they’ve abducted, we have a very short time frame to work within.”

“Okay, but where do I come in?”

“I want to use you as bait.”

Wow. You don’t get much more blunt than that. Even though that’s where she figured this was headed, the words still shocked her.

“It’ll be completely controlled. First, we’ve got to attract him. Once we do, we’ll play along. He’ll suggest a meeting place. You’ll be there, just in case he wants to see you before he comes in. Once he sees you and enters, I’ll take over.”

“You act as though this will be just one man. What if it’s more?”

“No, it’ll be more than one. I’ll make sure we have enough to cover you.”

“What happens once you nab him, or them?”

“I get information.”

“How?”

“You really want to know?”

His voice was mild, his expression neutral, but for some reason she shivered. Noah McCall would do what he thought he had to do, no matter what that was. She shook her head, not wanting to go further into just how ruthless this man could be.

“So, will you do it?”

“Why me?”

“You’re small, young looking, but smart and old enough to handle yourself.”

She raised a surprised brow at that. Her size made him ask for her help? “LCR doesn’t hire small women?”

“No, only tall, busty blondes.”

Samara laughed. Who would have thought it? Noah actually had a sense of humor. And she knew they weren’t all busty. Eden, Jordan’s wife, was a little over average height, slender, and not heavily endowed at all. “No really, why me? There’s got to be plenty of other—”

“Not at LCR … at least, none available this quickly. They’re either involved in other cases or not able to carry it off.”

“Why couldn’t they carry it off?”

“You have an innocent air about you. You don’t just look younger. Something in your eyes, the way you stand … I don’t know, you just don’t look twenty-seven.”

Samara grimaced. The bane of her existence … always looking ten years younger. “My mom told me I’ll appreciate it when I get older.”

“Well, I appreciate it now. So, will you do it?”

Help save innocent young girls from probable rape, possible murder? What other answer could she give him other than “Hell, yeah”?

  Noah cracked opened the door to his hotel room. His gaze zoomed to the floor, at the edge of the door. Yep, the tiny piece of thread was still there. A small security precaution to make sure no one had entered since he left.

Throwing his keys on the desk, he stripped off his clothes and headed to the shower. Tonight had gone better than he’d expected. Tying her to a chair had been unexpected, but she was almost to the point of getting hurt. Samara getting hurt in any way wasn’t something he was willing to chance.

Hot water beat down on him; Noah lowered his head and closed his eyes. He’d bruised her skin. That bothered him, more than he’d like to admit. He told himself it was because she was an innocent young woman, but he knew it was more than that. There was something about Samara that brought out his protective instincts. It wasn’t just her size, though she was a tiny little thing. There was another reason. One he refused to give any credence to. Being attracted to a woman like her would be suicide. She wasn’t the type to heat up the sheets and then wave goodbye without a backward glance. That was the only kind of woman who interested him.

He stepped out of the shower and dried off. Pulling on a pair of shorts, T-shirt, and running shoes, he headed out the door. It might be after midnight here, but he was still on Paris time, which meant no sleep until sometime tonight. He bypassed the elevators and ran down six flights of stairs. Exiting the back entrance, he started at a slow jog. Running through the parking lot filled with semis, SUVs, and the occasional rattletrap, he turned out of the lot and headed down the street. This time of night, there was little traffic, totally different from Paris, which never slept.

A good hour run, then he’d go back to the hotel and do a little more research. After that, he’d pack up his gear and head over to Samara’s. After much discussion, they’d agreed to work out of her apartment. He’d basically have to move in, as most of the online chatter would take place late at night. It just made sense to stay close. True, he could try to attract this creep’s attention on his own and just use her when the time came for a meeting. But it’d been years since he’d been around teenage girls. Samara would know a hell of a lot more about how they talked than he would. She hadn’t been crazy about the idea of his moving in, but reluctantly agreed.

Once he had gotten her agreement to let him stay with her, he’d left. After she told him she would help, things had become a little awkward. Her thoughts, no doubt, on what happened in Paris. She needed some time to think about what she’d agreed to, and he’d needed to get away from her for a while. Focus was an important part of what he did. With Samara, he had a tendency to lose it … one of the reasons they’d almost had their own little tango in Paris. He’d lost both focus and control. That sweet mouth of hers called to mind all sorts of things he wanted to do with it. And when he’d tasted her …

Noah came to an abrupt halt and bent over, breathing out harsh breaths. Almost impossible to run with a hard-on. He needed to get his head on straight before he saw her again. Once this project was over, he’d go back to Paris, she’d go on with her life here. In the meantime, they had a job to do. Neither one of them needed the distraction of attraction.

Regaining his control, Noah made a quick turn through a deserted mall parking lot and headed back. Thick, humid air coated his skin. He used to love running in the southern heat, the way it fought back as you ran through its dense atmosphere. Not anymore. Anything that remotely reminded him of his past was something he’d gladly chew glass to get away from.

Noah let himself into the hotel room, once again checking the unmoved thread. The phone rang just as he grabbed a water bottle from the minibar.

He took a long swallow and answered on the third ring, already knowing who it was and what she wanted.

“Did you find her?”

“Yeah.”

“And?” The husky, feminine voice held amused impatience.

“And she said yes.”

“I never doubted she would.”

“You tell him yet?”

“Oh yes.” A little sultry laugh gave him a good idea of how she’d gone about it.

“What’d he have to say about it?”

“Before or after I plied him with wine and had my way with him?”

Noah grinned. Eden St. Claire Montgomery had a way with persuasion, especially with her husband, Jordan. Though this particular time, Eden probably had a little more trouble than usual. Convincing Jordan that his former girlfriend would be able to handle this job couldn’t have been easy.

“Not so simple?”

“Hell, no. I’m exhausted. But I finally made him realize that no matter what was involved, you would protect her with your life.”

“And I will. But she’s not going to get close enough to danger for that to be a concern.”

“How’s she doing?”

The concern didn’t surprise him. Eden’s compassion for the young woman Jordan had almost married was one of the things that made her the woman she was. No one knew better than Eden how rejection from someone you loved could tear you apart.

“Still a little shaky, but overall I’d say good. Moving all the way across country was probably good for her. Getting away from everyone who knew her.”

“Tell that to her family. Seems like my husband is on the phone to them every week reassuring them she’s fine.”

“Why don’t they check for themselves? They’re a heck of a lot closer.”

“Seems little sister demanded they give her at least six months before they came down. So, long distance it may be, but they call here to ask.”

“Can’t blame her about that. Can’t be easy having that much family around worrying about you.”

“She’s gutsy though, don’t you think?”

The affection was evident in her voice. Just in the short time Eden and Samara were together, they had created an interesting bond. Though they both loved the same man, Noah never saw jealousy from either one of them. Which was one of the reasons he’d been convinced Samara could handle the task he asked of her.

“Yeah, gutsy and smart.”

“You’ll both be careful, won’t you?”

Though Eden knew a lot about the operation, there were still certain things Noah hadn’t shared with her. Things Eden suspected but hadn’t pressed him for. Not that it’d do any good. When the time was right, all would be revealed. Until then, total secrecy was paramount.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“We’ll check back soon.”

Clicking the phone off, he stripped his clothes and headed to the shower. Though Jordan was in charge of the Paris office until Noah returned, he wanted to check on a few things. Letting go of control hadn’t been easy, but he’d had no choice. Noah was the only person who could conceivably get this job done to his full satisfaction.

Jordan Montgomery was capable and experienced, but that didn’t stop Noah from wanting to know how all his operatives were doing. He’d recruited every one of them, knew their backgrounds, strengths, and most of all, their fears. At thirty-two years of age, Noah might look nothing like a Father Goose and none of his operatives would appreciate being referred to as his chicks, but sometimes that’s the way he thought of them. Being responsible for over one hundred highly trained mercenaries might not be anyone else’s idea of a dream job. For Noah, it was all he knew, all he wanted to know.

Pulling on another pair of shorts, Noah pulled his laptop from under the mattress. Not the most original place to hide one, but his choices were limited. Besides, there was nothing on the computer that could be tied to him or his organization, but it’d be damn inconvenient to break in a new one if this one was stolen.

Clicking on, Noah was soon immersed in emails, updating him on existing operations all over the world. No names were ever used, locations were never revealed, and no information disclosed. The first six months of training for all LCR operatives was the full understanding of a distinctive language known only to their organization. Though he could speak ten languages fluently, Noah knew this code better than he knew his own name. He should, since he’d devised it himself.

Three years in prison had given him ample thinking opportunity. Last Chance Rescue had been created inside his mind as he lay in bed night after night, unable to sleep. The dark, sometimes horrific sounds of suffering, crying, cursing, and the occasional gruff laugh only kept the flame burning brighter. Other men might have been dreaming of going the straight and narrow when they got out. Others might have planned to go back to the same kind of lifestyle. Noah wanted neither.

With an agonizing scald of guilt in his gut that nothing could extinguish, Noah had vowed to rescue innocents. Thanks to his arrogance and pride, he’d failed one person and she’d paid an immeasurable price. He’d vowed to heaven and hell that he would never fail again. No matter what the cost.

Samara woke the next morning with the overwhelming need to clean. Anyone who knew her and saw her with a bucket, sponges, disinfectants, and mop knew she had something major on her mind and they should get out of her way. Cleaning cleared out her mental cobwebs.

After Noah left last night, she’d been alternately excited about helping him catch this online predator and reeling with anger at how he’d approached her in the first place. What angered her more was that she’d let him get away with it. Once he told her his purpose for needing to talk with her, she’d forgotten everything else other than the need to assist him in any way she could. Though she fully intended to help him, at some point she hoped to be able to show him she wasn’t a weak little mouse he could just sling over his shoulder when the mood hit him.

She couldn’t deny that part of her was secretly thrilled that Noah actually thought she could help. With five brothers, an overprotective father, and various other concerned relatives, Samara had rarely been treated as anything other than a delicate creature who needed to be protected and shielded. Noah actually treated her as an intelligent woman who could take on an online predator and win. Oh, she knew full well that her size and youthful appearance was the biggest reason he’d asked her for help. But it didn’t negate the fact that he had asked.

On her knees now, scrubbing her bathtub, she contemplated how it was going to feel to actually have him living with her. Her father and brothers would have Noah’s head for asking for help. If they learned he was going to live with her while they tracked a predator, she was pretty sure parts other than his head would go missing.

The squeak of the paper towel against the mirror comforted her as she acknowledged that the attraction was still there. Too honest with herself to deny its existence, she was also fully aware that from all appearances, Noah still barely saw her as a female, much less an attractive one. Other than that brief passionate kiss in Paris, he seemed to see her only as a tool to be used.

As she made up the guest bed for him, she breathed in the fragrance of freshly laundered sheets as she contemplated Noah McCall. Eden and Jordan seemed to think highly of him. Eden called her at least once a week, just to chat. Though she rarely mentioned Noah, when she did her voice was always full of affection and respect.

The familiar whine of the vacuum barely penetrated her ears as she vacuumed over already pristine floors. Was it odd to have a friendship with the woman who’d married the man Samara had planned to marry herself? Though not normally a jealous person, it only made sense that she be somewhat resentful of Eden. But that wasn’t how she felt. Once Jordan found Eden again after years of looking for her, Samara could only feel gratitude that they’d found each other.