Rescue Me: A Novel

by Christy Reece

  With professional wariness, Jordan entered Noah McCall's office and took careful note of his surroundings. The room reeked of elegance and wealth. A massive desk in the center of the room held three monitors. A giant flat-screen TV covered one wall and a large wet bar covered another. Hell, the view alone behind McCall's desk, overlooking the Pyramide du Louvre, would be worth millions.

  LCR might do damned good work, but it was obvious they were well paid for it. Not that Jordan had a problem with that. If they found Devon, he'd gladly give his savings. Most people who approached LCR probably felt the same way.

  He settled himself into the leather chair McCall indicated with a nod of his head. After McCall contacted him about working with LCR, Jordan had called in some favors from his many sources. It had taken extensive digging, but he'd found out a little more about the head of LCR. Noah McCall had more power than was good for any one individual. That kind of power, when owned by the wrong person, could destroy lives and wreak untold havoc. Jordan trusted few people and McCall had just gone to the top of the list of people he trusted least of all.

  It wasn't that the man didn't do good with his power. He'd saved a lot of people over the years. But the number of people who owed him something was downright scary.

  McCall leaned back against the couch and lifted his mouth in a small, enigmatic smile. “I'm assuming the things you found out about me were to your satisfaction?”

  Jordan raised a brow at the other man's arrogance. “My satisfaction? No. But I learned enough to know the good you've done outweighs the bad. That's enough for me. At least for now.”

  Though his expression didn't change, Jordan sensed an ease he hadn't felt before. Was it because he'd given his approval of McCall's methods or because he'd missed something in his investigation? Jordan didn't know, but as always, he would be on watch. If McCall wasn't on the up-and-up, he'd know soon enough.

  “Tell me about this mission you mentioned. From what you've said, everyone in your organization will be involved.”

  “That's true. But I'd like to wait a few minutes. Your new partner will be here soon and I'd like to discuss the operation with both of you present.”

  “My partner?” Jordan had trouble keeping the disbelief from his voice. He hadn't counted on working with anyone, but held back from voicing his reservations. Just because in his previous line of work he'd never relied on anyone but himself didn't mean he couldn't play well with others.

  McCall's arched brow told Jordan he was well aware of his reservations. “In a case like this, working with a partner is imperative.”

  A small buzz sounded and though his expression didn't change, Jordan sensed a new tension in the other man.

  “Looks like your new partner has arrived.”

  Jordan stood at a soft knock. The door swung open. Everything within him stilled. What the …? It was the woman from the restaurant. The one he'd mistaken for Devon. She'd changed the color of her hair to a soft white-blond and her eyes were cobalt blue instead of the light green he remembered. Nonetheless, she was the same woman. What was she doing here?

  “Eden, come in. I'd like you to meet your partner.”

  The woman stood stiffly for a second, and then, with a graceful confidence he remembered well, she glided into the room. Did she remember him?

  Her smile was somewhat cool at first and then he could almost see her body change, relax. But she couldn't hide the fact that she'd been just as surprised to see him, maybe even more.

  “Jordan, allow me to introduce Eden St. Claire. Eden, this is Jordan Montgomery.”

  Without acknowledging the man who'd made the introductions, Eden St. Claire held out a hand to Jordan. “But we've already met, haven't we, Mr. Montgomery?”

  Her sultry voice, low and melodic, hummed along his senses like a musical caress. He'd forgotten how enchanting he'd found that husky, sensual tone. Something else that struck him as he drew closer to shake her hand … she was angry. Though showing him nothing but a cool, pleasant smile, Jordan could feel vibrations of dis pleasure bouncing from her and he got the distinct impression those feelings were all targeted toward Noah McCall.

  “Already met?” McCall asked.

  Jordan slowly drew his gaze from the lovely Ms. St. Claire as he answered, “Yes, in a restaurant, a couple of weeks ago.”

  Jordan looked back at the beautiful woman who sat across from him. She leaned back into her chair and crossed long, elegant legs. He ignored the gut punch of attraction. Damned if he needed that kind of complication.

  Eden had learned long ago to compartmentalize. It had saved her life on more than one occasion. Today it saved her sanity. If she allowed herself to dwell for one second on the fact that Jordan Montgomery sat across from her, she wouldn't be able to function. Just knowing Jordan might still be in Paris had been making her crazy. She'd been eager to jump into their new project, not only for the anticipation of destroying Alfred Larue's organization, but also because of the constant worry of bumping into Jordan again. Paris was a big city and the chances of that happening again were small.

  She hadn't counted on Noah, though.

  How stupid not to see this coming. Noah had allowed her to get away with a small breakdown with very little comment. In his cold, unemotional mind, he would see this as a test. One she would either pass or fail. If she passed, it was what he expected from her. If she failed, she'd be out on her ass. She held no illusions on that. Noah might have saved her life, but that didn't mean he expected less of her than he would of himself or anyone else. She had a job to do. If she couldn't handle it, he needed to know.

  Though furious emotions raged inside, she put them where they belonged. As she listened to Noah describing their mission, she forced everything away except her role as a well-trained, highly skilled LCR operative.

  Noah sat sprawled in his chair as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eden was used to this deceptive pose. Noah at his most relaxed-looking was deadly. In an even, unemotional voice, he outlined his investigation. “We've identified five areas where the victims are kept, but we don't have definite locations yet. Mrs. Beard was correct. If ransoms aren't paid, the kidnapped victims are turned over to another part of the business—the one who sells to the highest bidder. Then there are those who are simply sold, without a ransom demand.”

  “How did we not know Larue was in the business of selling humans like cattle?” Eden asked.

  “As we discussed, and from what I've gleaned from our sources, this is Alfred Larue's baby, without any of his immediate family's involvement. I'm not sure even his wife, who from my understanding can be just as cold and brutal as the rest of the family, knows about this enterprise.”

  Noah rubbed his temple as if he had a pain. “When we investigated the Larues, we were looking at his known illegal businesses. Those that rivaled Hector Clement's. This one never showed up. This particular venture is fairly new, maybe no more than four years old. But it's well run and, with the Larue's wealth, well funded. Larue and his bastard minions are making a shitload of money.”

  Eden blinked in surprise. After knowing this man for over six years and only hearing him curse a handful of times, two in one sentence was unprecedented. Something was wrong. Was it the size of the operation that bothered him, his concern for her, or something else?

  Jordan apparently didn't see anything wrong with Noah's vocabulary. From what she remembered, Jordan wasn't one to hold back his curses if something disturbed him. As that thought flashed through her mind, Eden slammed the door shut on those memories.

  “You got any intel on these bastard minions?” Jordan asked.

  Noah shrugged. “Not enough. I've got three of my best investigators on it. In the meantime, I'd like for you and Eden to get to know each other a little. If you're going to be partners on this operation, you'll need to be able to trust each other implicitly.”

  Every molecule and cell inside Eden clanged a silent alarm. They were being thrown together. The explanation of getting t
o know each other was a crock. She'd worked with several different operatives and had only known their first names … probably not their real ones. She sent Noah a narrowed-eyed stare. Why was he doing this?

  Though she wanted nothing more than to say they didn't need to know each other, she didn't want Jordan suspicious. If he guessed she didn't want to be within a thousand miles of him, he'd wonder. He might even see it as a challenge.

  The last thing she wanted to do was intrigue or challenge Jordan Montgomery or arouse his interest.

  “That's a fine idea,” Eden lied smoothly.

  A wicked, appreciative gleam sparkled in Jordan's eyes as he nodded his agreement. “We could have lunch together, if that's not a problem for your husband.”

  Before Eden could answer, Noah frowned and asked, “Husband?”

  She forced a small smile. “When I met Mr. Montgomery previously, he asked to see me. Since I'd just had lunch with Georges, I was forced to lie and decline due to my being married.”

  Noah stood, apparently eager for them to get started. “Well, enjoy your lunch. I'll—”

  “I'm afraid I must decline again. I have several issues related to my last assignment I need to review with Noah.” She turned to Jordan. “Perhaps we could have dinner tonight. Say six o'clock at Le Mirage.”

  Jordan gave her a brief, searching look before nodding. “I'll see you there.” After shaking Noah's hand, he strode out the door.

  Noah stood at the opened door watching Jordan disappear into the elevator. He clicked it closed and then turned toward Eden. “Well, I think that went well. I—”

  Her fist shot out. The blow, fast and furious, slammed into his jaw. Noah crashed into the closed door with a hard thud.

  “You bastard,” she hissed.

  Leaning against the door, he worked his jaw back and forth. “Good shot.”

  She shook her head in confused denial at the amusement in his voice. After trusting him for all of these years, how could he? He'd betrayed her … in the worst way possible. “How dare you interfere. You don't know what—”

  “No, you don't know. Sit down and I'll explain.”

  Fury zigzagged through her like a pinball. Her voice quivered with hurt and betrayal. “Like hell I'll sit down. I'm through with you, through with LCR. You've—”

  “I said sit down!” Noah roared.

  Momentarily startled into silence, she found herself doing exactly what she'd been told, though she continued to glare her anger. Nothing he could say or do would ever make this right.

  Noah sat on the edge of his desk. “Think rationally. Do you know the real reason he's here?”

  “Yes, because you're an interfering, heartless bastard, and I—”

  “He's looking for you.”

  “What?”

  “He came here a week or so ago and asked if LCR could help find you.”

  “You expect me to believe that after seven years, Jordan has decided to start looking for me?”

  Noah lifted his shoulder in a small shrug. “Apparently he's been looking for you since you disappeared.”

  “That's bullshit. My mother told me—”

  “Exactly … your mother. You know what a liar she is.”

  Eden shook her head, denial squealing and pounding like a banshee. “No. I don't want to hear this.”

  “Why? Because it's easier to believe no one cared about you? Just because your mother is a heartless bitch, doesn't mean other people didn't care.”

  “Jordan doesn't care about me. I remember his words well. Even if he truly didn't know where I was, it's his curiosity and nothing more. He's too late … seven years too late.”

  “The man's been searching for you since he first discovered you were missing. He's spent thousands trying to find you.” He held out his hand as if he actually might care. “It's time you faced your past, Devon.”

  Shrinking back from his touch, she snarled, “Don't you damned well tell me what it's time for me to do. That girl doesn't exist anymore. If Jordan is wondering if Devon Winters is dead, then he can wonder no more. She is dead.”

  “Then you're going to be the one to tell him.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. If that's what you want Montgomery to think, then you're going to have come up with that on your own. He's asking LCR to find you. I'll respect your right to stay Eden St. Claire, but it's up to you to deliver the sad news of Devon's demise and how it happened.”

  “You bastard.”

  “You're repeating yourself, my dear. You know I deal in facts. My job … our job is to rescue people, and if they can't be found or they're dead, we give a detailed report. So there's your new assignment. If you want him to believe Devon is dead, then create the proof and give it to him. I'm out of it.”

  Eden shot to her feet and jerked her purse and jacket up. “Fine. After today, Devon Winters will be officially dead.”

  “Just be sure it's what you want.”

  She didn't bother looking back as she stalked jerkily from the room. “Like you really give a damn.”

  Eden slammed the door behind her, her body trembling as Noah's betrayal warred with the astounding possibility that Jordan had actually cared about what happened to her. No. God no, don't go there. Devon Winters died seven years ago and that broken child could never be resurrected.

  Devon would remain dead. Eden would see to that. And now she would find a way to deliver that news to Jordan.

  nine

  Soft music and muffled conversation barely penetrated Jordan's thoughts as he waited at their table for Eden to appear. He took a long swallow of his Glenlivet on ice, reflecting on the meeting earlier today. So the lovely Ms. St. Claire was an LCR operative. No wonder she'd been upset with him when they first met. He'd interrupted her while she was on a job, possibly putting her identity in jeopardy. When undercover, having your identity come into question could be dangerous. Upsetting the delicate balance of trust often put the wary on alert.

  One thing he refused to give any consideration to was his attraction to Eden. Though she intrigued him more than any woman he'd met in years, he couldn't act on that attraction. Asking her for lunch at their first meeting had been uncharacteristic and stupid. An impulsive act he wouldn't repeat. He might not love Samara the way she deserved, but he could damn well make sure she never had reason to question his faithfulness.

  His attention was caught by the slender vision in a scarlet red pantsuit gliding toward him. Jordan ignored the usual gut punch and rose to greet her.

  Her mouth curved into a slight smile as she settled into her seat. He sensed her dislike and couldn't help wonder why. Without conceit, he knew he was attractive to women and he'd done nothing to offend her. Well, other than unintentionally putting an assignment in jeopardy and then later implying she was cheating on her husband … her fake husband. Okay, maybe he deserved a little hostility.

  If they were going to work together and watch each other's backs, it would help if she actually cared what happened to his back. He could be as charming as the next guy; he was just somewhat rusty with the technique. “Since we're going to be working together, perhaps we should know something about each other.”

  There was that tiny flicker again in her expression. Jordan didn't know what it was, but it disturbed him on some level. “Do you not agree, Ms. St. Claire?”

  “Please, call me Eden. And I shall call you Jordan.”

  Jordan nodded. “Eden it is. So, do you want to go first or shall I?”

  “Go first?” Her smooth forehead wrinkled.

  “With your life story, of course.”

  The cool smile that curved her lips and the blasé way she settled back into her chair told him she disagreed. Her words confirmed it. “My life story would bore you to tears.”

  “I doubt that seriously.” He looked up as the waiter approached. “Why don't we order and then let's see if I get bored.”

  The look she flashed him seemed innocuous enough, but Jordan got the distinct idea he
made her uncomfortable.

  After their waiter left, he gave her what he hoped was a friendly, nonconfrontational look. “Why don't I go first?”

  Her eyes flickered down at the table as she took a sip of her wine. Perhaps she thought she was the one who would be bored to tears. Hell, maybe he really did need to work on his charm.

  “I grew up in Virginia. I think I mentioned that when we first met. Graduated from the University of Virginia. Just before I graduated, a stranger approached me and asked me to consider working for a government agency I'd never heard of.”

  Despite every instinct warning her against it, Eden settled back into her chair, fascinated. She hadn't wanted to come here, didn't want to work with Jordan. Wanted no contact with him ever again. But that choice had been taken out of her hands and she had to deal with it. For some reason Noah thought Jordan could help with their new project and she'd resigned herself to that. She had expected to hear a somewhat boring account of his work as a CIA analyst and how he could assist LCR.

  Now, as he talked, she realized she was being given a remarkable opportunity. Years ago, she imagined herself in love with this man, but had known almost nothing about him, other than what she'd cooked up in her childhood fantasies. That stupid infatuation was gone, but she realized she still wanted to know Jordan Montgomery and what made him tick.

  Just the knowledge he'd worked for someone other than the CIA astounded her. What other mysterious things could she learn?

  “An American agency?”

  “Yes, but not one that existed on paper. Still doesn't. Just a small group of people with a hell of a lot of power, quite a bit of money, and some high, if sometimes ruthless, ideas.”

  “Why did they approach you?”

  “A number of items appeared on their radar. I spoke a few more languages than the norm, had a couple of black and brown belts in the martial arts, could handle a gun pretty well, and knew more than I should about certain kinds of explosives.”