Rescue Me: A Novel

by Christy Reece

  Feeling her head begin to shake in amazement, she froze. No way could she say what she wanted to say or even look surprised. Nonetheless, she was thunderstruck. Except for the explosives knowledge, he could be describing the unique skills she'd brought to LCR. One of the reasons Noah asked her to join.

  Though she knew Jordan was raised by his grandmother, not asking about his family would look strange. “What about your parents? Didn't they want to know who you were working for?”

  “My parents died in a small plane crash when I was a kid. I lived with my grandmother until I left for college. She died right after my senior year. I didn't have any other close relatives … probably another reason I caught their attention.”

  “And you've been working for this agency ever since?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why have you agreed to work for LCR? Surely it's a conflict of interest?”

  “Possibly. Except I completed my last assignment last week. I've left them for good.”

  “Why?”

  Jordan shrugged as if it were of no consequence. “It was time.”

  The waiter appeared with their meal and both were momentarily distracted. When he disappeared, Jordan turned his attention back to her and smiled the devastating smile she remembered all too well. “So tell me how Eden St. Claire became an operative for LCR.”

  This would be easy. When Eden St. Claire was born, so had an intricate web of lies. A web so tightly knit to be impenetrable. Briefly, she wondered how he would react if she answered with the truth. I was attacked, raped, cut, and beaten so badly the paramedics lost me twice before I made it to the hospital. Noah paid for my care, my operations, and saved my sanity.

  “Actually, it's not all that different from yours. I was born in Los Angeles. Lost my mother to cancer when I was ten. Since my father hadn't been in the picture since my birth and no one knew of any relatives, I was put into foster care. A few months later, I was taken in as a foster child to a family.”

  Her mouth lifted into a small smile as if in fond memory. “They were highly intellectual individuals who'd waited late in life to have children and then when they decided to adopt, discovered they had little patience for young ones. Elaine and Claude took me in and allowed me to explore and develop my talents.”

  “And those talents are?”

  I can lie in eight languages. “Much like yours. I had a good ear for languages, a gift for martial arts, and a thirst for adventure.”

  “What kind of adventure?”

  Anything that helped me to forget. “You name it, I wanted to try it. I was fortunate that my adoptive parents were well off enough to let me try many things.”

  “How did Noah find you?”

  He was called to the hospital on a charity case … me. “Actually, I found him. I was on vacation in France, backpacking with some friends. We came up on him. He'd gotten lost from his traveling companions and injured his ankle.” Eden came up with that little lie on her own. Every time she told the story, Noah got a gleam in his eyes, but he never refuted her claim.

  “And you impressed him with your amazing abilities?”

  No, I begged him to let me work for him because he'd done so much for me and he was the only one who cared. “Nothing so dramatic. As we made our way back down the mountain, we got to know each other. After he reunited with his friends, I assumed I'd never see him again. He called me a few weeks later, said he was in L.A. on business. He invited me to dinner and made me an offer.”

  “One you couldn't refuse.”

  One that saved my life. “One that intrigued me.”

  “You're an American, but you've made Paris your home?”

  “Not really, though I do spend a lot of time here. I have apartments in several areas of the world. My assignments often determine where I live.”

  “What about Elaine and Claude. They still live in L.A.? Know what you do?”

  Her eyes flickered with sadness. “I lost them both, within months of each other, when I was still in college.”

  “So you're alone, too.”

  More than you'll ever know. “Yes, except for Noah, of course.”

  “And what is Noah to you?”

  Savior, friend, betrayer. “My employer.”

  For a quick second, Eden thought Jordan looked relieved. Why? Did he think she and Noah were lovers? How laughable. Not because Noah wasn't an attractive man. He was possibly the most physically attractive man she'd ever known and that included Jordan. Noah as her lover was laughable because she didn't have physical relationships. Sex on occasion, but those rare events usually left her feeling even more frustrated than before. Anything besides a mild physical release was well beyond her capacity.

  Or did Jordan ask this because he was attracted to her? Probably. Most men were. He'd seemed captivated when they first met. And why wouldn't he think it could be possible? She was a single female. He was a single … Was he single? No wedding ring, but that wasn't that unusual. “Are you married?”

  “No.”

  She refused to acknowledge a tiny flicker of what felt like relief. “I guess your job would keep you from being able to make a permanent commitment.”

  “Something like that. What about you?”

  Eden shook her head, regretting she'd brought their discussion down to a personal level. She needed to get things back on point. “What do you think about LCR so far?”

  Though Jordan raised a questioning brow at what Eden knew was a less than smooth transition to change the subject, he answered evenly, “LCR? A formidable reputation, an impressive success record, and a somewhat disturbing but convenient ability to break the law and get away with it. Whether you can help me remains to be seen.”

  “Ah yes. Noah told me about your request.”

  “Really? Why did he tell you?”

  A shrug. “I have contacts who may be able to come up with something.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Does this bother you?”

  “No, just surprised me. I thought he would handle this himself.”

  “Perhaps he will, but it would be helpful …” No, she didn't want to go down that path. She'd started a report this afternoon, detailing the final days of Devon Winters's life. The last thing she needed was Jordan talking about that fateful day. Devon was dead. Nothing could be done about that. What ever Jordan had or hadn't done to find her wasn't important. As it stood right now, he needed resolution and very soon Eden would provide it. End of story.

  “Helpful …?”

  Eden started, realizing Jordan was waiting for her to finish her sentence. She rarely made mistakes like this and cursed herself for this one. “Helpful to wait until I hear back from my contacts before you assume we can't help you.” She gestured at his plate. “How is your steak?”

  She refused to flinch at Jordan's questioning expression. Yes, she'd changed the subject and again had done a poor job of it. The realization that when it came to Jordan, she couldn't depend on herself to be the cool professional played havoc with her equilibrium. She needed to regroup and could only do that by heading in a completely different direction.

  “My steak is fine. And your chicken?” Mocking amusement glittered in his eyes, curved his sensuous mouth.

  Feeling like a teenager on her first date, Eden bent her head and took a bite. Though it tasted like wet cement, she nodded and smiled with an air of appreciation. It had been years since she'd felt so inept and unpolished. They needed to get this assignment over with and allow Jordan to get back to his life. Then and only then would she be comfortable once more.

  Comfortable? What an odd, disturbing word. Was comfort what she felt in her current position? Was LCR an escape and refuge? Eden shut those thoughts down. Having a philosophical inner discussion on her life right now was beyond stupid. Jordan Montgomery sat across from her. She had more than enough to occupy her thoughts.

  She focused on the present and what else she could learn. “So you no doubt have had some dangerous assignments with your secret government wor
k. No?”

  Jordan's sensuous mouth tilted up, his amusement at her attempt to control the conversation no longer concealed. An unexpected surge of sensual heat flooded her body and she almost gasped aloud at the astonishing and unwelcome emotion. Why had her long-absent libido suddenly reappeared after all these years and for the one man she'd forced herself to feel nothing for? Eden never considered herself a masochist, but was beginning to rethink that. Working with Jordan was bad enough. Actually wanting to be in his company … wanting him, was emotional suicide.

  More than aware that he detected her nervous ness and was humoring her, she couldn't help but be thankful Jordan accommodated her question. She sat in rapt silence, her admiration growing with each story he told. While the descriptions of what he called his more interesting assignments were vague and brief, Eden was experienced enough to know the man had lived a life more dangerous and ex-citing than any television superhero's. A part of her was astounded at learning exactly what Jordan Montgomery had been doing his entire adult life, while another part backed away from the hero worship she could already feel sprouting up again.

  Eden no longer had heroes. She damn well needed to remember that.

  “Eden, would you care for dessert?” Jordan asked in such a way she had a feeling it wasn't the first time the question had been posed.

  She arched a haughty brow. “Thank you, but no, I have an early appointment, so I must leave.” She rose to her feet and looked down. “But you stay and enjoy yours, Mr. Montgomery. I'll be in touch.”

  Knowing those watchful, too perceptive eyes were on her, Eden crossed the entire restaurant before she allowed herself a breath. Finally, outside the door and waiting for a taxi, she inhaled deeply, not caring that exhaust fumes and other noxious odors filled the air. For the first time in hours, she finally felt a small relief.

  When a hand landed on her shoulder, breath left her body again.

  “Are you all right?”

  Eden looked behind her into dark, questioning eyes.

  “Of course, I'm fine.”

  “Then would you care to tell me why you feel the need to run away from me whenever we're together?”

  “I don't know what you mean.”

  His stare was hard and unrelenting for several seconds, then he expelled a long sigh. “Of course you don't. But think about this. If we're going to be working together, at some point we're going to have to spend more than a few minutes together in the same room.” With those enigmatic words, he turned and stalked away from her.

  Eden stared at him until he rounded a corner. Ridiculously she wanted to call him back, because as silly as it seemed, she thought she might have hurt his feelings. What an absolutely asinine idea. Jordan Montgomery couldn't care less what she thought of him or how he was treated. These feelings were just remnants from those long-forgotten emotions. Ones she thought were long gone. How in the hell was she going to work with him?

  The instant Jordan cracked opened the door to his hotel room, he knew it was occupied. Gun in hand, he shoved open the door, slamming it against the wall. Recognizing the man across the room, he lowered his gun and glowered. “You in the habit of breaking into hotel rooms or did I just get lucky?”

  Slouched in a chair across the room, Noah McCall managed to look arrogant and relaxed at the same time. His steady gaze studied Jordan like he was an interesting, newly discovered species. “How was dinner?”

  Pulling off his jacket, Jordan folded it over the back of a chair and then sat across from his uninvited guest. Ankle crossed over his knee, he raised a questioning brow. “This little visit is to discuss my dinner with the lovely Ms. St. Claire?” He offered his most mocking smile. “Is this another service of LCR … a little after-dinner wrap-up?”

  “Just like to make sure my people will work well together.”

  Bullshit. “That so? You might want to discuss that with my new partner, then. Seems she has a problem with being in the same room with me for any length of time. It may not bode well for our future working relationship.”

  “You and Eden not getting along?”

  Jordan's eyes narrowed in on the man sitting across from him. “What's this cat-and-mouse shit really about?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. You partner me with a woman who seems to hate men. Then you show up, unannounced, wanting to know how we're getting along. Obviously you knew there would be problems or you wouldn't be asking. I don't like games, McCall. Either you fill me in on what kind of shit you're playing or I'm out of here.”

  “You seem a bit touchy, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “Only when I'm being jerked around.”

  McCall raised a conciliatory hand. “Sorry, no games. I rarely partner Eden with anyone but myself and wanted to check and make sure you thought it was going to work. Eden can sometimes come across as a little tough.”

  “Tough?” Jordan shook his head. “That's not what I'd call it. More like nervous, evasive, and downright frightened.”

  Something flickered in McCall's eyes. Concern for the lovely Ms. St. Claire? What was the real relationship between Eden St. Claire and her boss. She denied anything personal, but Jordan's instincts told him they were more than employer/employee, as she claimed.

  Noah McCall leaned forward. “Eden's tired. Her last operation took a lot out of her. I can see her being evasive. That's part of her makeup. But frightened and nervous aren't really her style. Give her a couple of days, she'll come round.”

  He stared hard at McCall. The man was damned hard to read. “I can make it work, but I'm beginning to wonder just how good Ms. St. Claire really is.”

  “Eden's the best there is, something you'll find out soon enough. Perhaps you just need to be more charming.”

  Exactly what he'd been telling himself earlier. Perhaps he could practice a bit. The lovely and elusive Ms. St. Claire would be an excellent target. “Charm has never been a requirement before. Or my forte.”

  McCall pulled himself to his feet; stretching, he gave a gigantic yawn. “Well, work on your charm and I'll make sure Eden makes herself more agreeable.” He squinted at his watch. “I'm headed home. I'll be in touch in the next day or two. Should have some solid intel by then.”

  Jordan shut the door behind the mysterious Noah McCall. There was something he didn't trust about the man. Not that there were a lot of people he did trust.

  Opening the top button of his collar, he shoved the heavy drapery aside and looked out the window, but his mind saw only the otherworldly beauty of Eden St. Claire. Their dinner tonight had him restless and unsettled … two feelings he wasn't used to and didn't care for. He hadn't lied to McCall. Eden did seem unusually nervous with him. He was exceptional at reading people, or, he amended, normally he was exceptional at reading people. Devon being one of the few who'd gotten past his radar.

  Eden St. Claire intrigued him and that was a rarity in itself. That he was attracted to her he accepted as fact, but he had no plans to take that attraction further. Even if he were a free man, he doubted she would appreciate his advances. From what he could tell, he either made her nervous as hell or repelled her. Neither one made for anything promising.

  He wasn't here for anything other than the hope of finding information on Devon. In the interim, he looked forward to helping with a job that sounded worthwhile and dangerous enough to work up some adrenaline, something he'd missed over the last year or so. After it was over, he'd go home and Eden St. Claire would be nothing but a memory.

  In the meantime, they needed to learn to work together. After their dinner tonight, he had serious doubts about that happening. What was it that made her so nervous? She didn't seem the type to be intimidated by any man. But something was off. What?

  Eden slammed the door to her apartment so hard a photo of the Louvre she'd taken when she'd first come to Paris crashed to the floor. The sound was only a distant thud in her frenzied mind as she raced to the bedroom.

  Going to her knees, sh
e dragged her luggage out from under the bed and threw it open.

  Marching to her closet, she paid little attention to the expensive items of clothing as she wrapped her arms around them, ripped them from their hangers, and hauled them to the suitcase. In three trips, she emptied her closet. Muttering curses and fragmented sentences, she went to her dresser and jerked the drawers open. With the haphazard-ness of sheer panic, she emptied the drawers, pulling out lingerie, nylons, and sweaters without any of her usual care.

  The suitcase overflowing, she slammed it shut. Grabbing a smaller bag, she dashed to the bathroom and threw bottles and jars into the bottom.

  Catching her image in the mirror, she froze. The face staring back was hers but not. Her skin gleamed ghostly pale beneath a flush of hectic red. Eyes sparkled, wild with panic, beads of sweat dimpled her brow and upper lip. Dear God in heaven, who was this woman?

  Eden gripped the sides of the sink as her legs threatened collapse. Turning her head, she stared at her bedroom. A small whimper left her mouth. Clothing scattered across the bedroom floor, her suitcase looked as though it had exploded. She'd panicked … lost control. Had wanted to run, flee from Jordan, and anything to do with her past.

  What happened to Eden, the invincible? The strong, brave woman she'd become? Emotions were always locked up, hidden from view, but after one brief conversation with Jordan she had returned to the spineless, stupid idiot she'd been years ago.

  Eyes closed, head bent, Eden took a long, furious breath of renewal. She would not do this. She would stay and fight. She was better than this. A powerful, strong-willed woman with more fight in her than Jordan and Noah put together. Neither of them would defeat her.

  With almost terrifying calm, she turned, took the bottles from the small bag, and placed them on the shelf where they belonged. When she had finished, she returned to the bedroom and in the same controlled fashion did the same with her clothes and shoes.

  Once things were in order, she stripped naked and slid into her workout clothes. Before she entered her gym, Eden stopped to make a call, setting into motion the absolute end to Devon Winters. Within a week, two at the most, young Devon would finally be laid to rest.