Rescue Me: A Novel

by Christy Reece

  “I did my best. However, it's going to be up to you in the next few days to prove him wrong. You both need to trust each other or this will blow up in our faces.”

  With practiced grace, Eden pulled herself to her feet. “Don't worry about me. It won't happen again. From now on, Jordan Montgomery will only see Eden St. Claire as she's always been. Professional, experienced, and easy to get along with.”

  Eden shut the door on Noah's snort of laughter.

  Eden gripped the doorjamb and stared at the man at her apartment door. Either Noah had given him her address or he'd followed her from LCR. Either way, she'd didn't want him here. Her brave words to Noah earlier now mocked her. Handling Jordan in a public place was one thing. Alone, in her apartment, without any escape, was quite different. Especially this Jordan.

  Dressed in a black T-shirt that emphasized his sculptured chest and broad shoulders and black jeans that encased his long, muscular legs and slender hips, this casual, sexy Jordan threatened a part of her she no longer acknowledged existed. It was also a reminder of what a superbly fine-looking man Jordan Montgomery still was. Something she truly didn't want to remember.

  His eyes glittered with something dark and dangerous, and Eden knew she wouldn't be able to put him off as easily as she had before. Though they needed to talk about the assignment, she'd planned to arrange a meeting with him someplace safe and open. Suddenly her roomy apartment seemed closed in and much too warm.

  “Have you had dinner?”

  His question startled her into realizing she'd been standing at the door, staring at him. No wonder the man questioned her professionalism.

  “Dinner? No.”

  Jordan stepped forward, causing Eden to move hastily back or be in danger of having him touch her. That she couldn't bear.

  “Good. I brought dinner with me.” He held up a large basket and the fragrance emanating from it reminded her that breakfast had been hours ago and she'd skipped lunch.

  “Since our dinner was cut short the other night, I thought we might get to know each other in more comfortable surroundings tonight.”

  She felt like an awkward teen who'd just opened the door to the town's bad boy. Jordan made her nervous, jittery, and excited all at once. She could almost hear Noah's amused chuckle in her mind.

  “Were you working out?”

  She glanced down at her workout clothes, forgetting she had donned them not five minutes before. Hell and damnation. That would have worked as an excuse … maybe a lame one, but it would have been something. Was it too late? It was worth a try. “Why yes, I usually work out around this time … usually at least a couple of hours. Why don't we—?” Her eyes widened as she watched him place the basket on the coffee table and kick off his shoes.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Her heartbeat went into overdrive and then zoomed toward Mach one. Mouth, brain, and body went numb. No words or even a thought of words showed up on her mental radar.

  As if silence was her acquiescence, Jordan began to strip.

  Without remembering how she got there, Eden found herself on her sofa. She could only watch, mouth dry and heart pounding, as the man she'd once been in love with stripped down to a pair of navy blue boxers. He removed his clothes with casual ease as if he stripped in front of strange women for a living.

  And there he stood … six feet plus of prime male masculinity. She thought about pretending to ignore his body, as though watching gorgeous men take their clothes off in her living room happened every day. But with him only a few feet away and almost completely nude, pretense was impossible.

  Since he didn't seem to mind being almost nude, she could be just as blatant. Her gaze started at his lean, chiseled face and went lower. Seven-year-old memories couldn't compete with the reality standing before her. My God. Had he been as beautiful then as he was today?

  Broad, tanned shoulders and torso tapered down to a washboard flat stomach. In the deepest recesses of her mind, Eden always found men with hairy chests a huge turn-on. Jordan's chest made her mouth water. He was furred with just the right amount of coal-black hair. Her nose twitched at the thought of burying her face against his chest and rubbing against that mat of fur.

  Her gaze lowered to take in his slender hips and muscular thighs. He obviously worked out a lot. Those kinds of muscles only came with intensive training.

  Her gaze traveled back up … and stopped abruptly. Blood rushed from her head, her eyes widened, and a hot rhythm of heat began to pulse in some surprising areas of her body. While Eden had been eyeing him as if he were tonight's dessert, he'd let her. And that created a result she wasn't prepared for.

  The modest blue boxers were modest no more. Her hungry perusal had produced an enormous erection.

  Eden forced herself to her feet. Knowing and unable to deal with the fact that she was blushing—something she hadn't done in years—she dared a glance at Jordan's face and felt her face flame even hotter.

  His mouth quirked up in amusement, but his eyes blazed with something she refused to even contemplate. No way would she allow him to get that close again.

  “Well … uh.” She swallowed hard. Embarrassment turned to anger. Just what did he expect? Stripping in front of her as if he were Mr. January. She was a woman and he was … he was … Jordan. Shit!

  She gritted words between her teeth. “My workout room is in here.” Knowing she was almost stomping in her anger didn't slow her down. She needed to get all of this frustrated energy out of her. Working out to one degree past exhaustion was usually her answer.

  And the man causing all of this frustration followed behind her with a slow, steady look and an erection that made certain body parts throb and scream for immediate attention.

  Eden flung the door of her gym wide open. Ignoring the man behind her as if he didn't exist, she marched over to the treadmill. Not caring if she appeared rude, Eden pressed the starting speed, placed her feet on the treadmill, and began a slow jog. He'd invited himself, let him figure out what to do.

  It took all of Jordan's willpower not to grab her and kiss her senseless. Who did she think she was fooling? The woman was seriously attracted to him. Admittedly he'd egged her on with his little striptease, but if she hadn't been interested, she wouldn't have gawked at him like she was a sugar addict and he was crème brûlée.

  Watching her watch him had been one of the biggest turn-ons in his life. If he didn't know better, he'd guess she was inexperienced. There had been wonder and shyness in her expression and the blush on her face and shoulders had him wanting to strip her bare and see how far the pretty pink flush went.

  His erection had startled her and he couldn't help but wonder why. Surely she couldn't have expected any different results after she'd almost eaten him with her eyes. He continued to throb in hopeful anticipation … pointless though it was.

  He'd never in his life forgotten an obligation, but he'd been within seconds of forgetting about Samara. Jordan knew he had a multitude of faults, but cheating wasn't one of them. His desire for Eden St. Claire would go nowhere and he reminded himself he'd better get his mind where it belonged before he broke a cardinal rule.

  Forcing his mind off a temptation that couldn't happen, Jordan glanced around the room, impressed with the assortment of machinery Eden possessed. He had a gym at home, but used mostly free weights for his lifting. Eden's collection told him she'd spent thousands on the most modern and scientifically advanced equipment. Her slender body pounding out the miles on her treadmill assured him it wasn't just for looks. The woman was in excellent shape.

  Determined to ignore the enticing picture of a sweating and lightly panting Eden, Jordan sat down on a bench, placed the pin in the weight he normally used, and began to lift. Unfortunately, unless he closed his eyes, there was no way to not see her. He told himself he wouldn't touch her and it wasn't being unfaithful to appreciate a beautiful body in peak condition moving with fluid grace. His hard-on raged on.

  Her body was sleek and slende
r without being thin. Her black tights and tank top slid over the hills and curves of her body.

  She'd tied her white-blond hair into a ponytail, a little-girl look that seemed incongruent with her usual sophistication. The light from the ceiling glowed down on her, revealing a light sheen of perspiration on her creamy skin. As she ran, the muscles in her arms flexed, indicating that after her run, she would most likely lift weights. Jordan forced his eyes away from her to complete his workout.

  Eden felt her body give a slight slump when she realized he'd finally stopped watching her. She'd never had an orgasm while running, but had come close to one today. Which was insane, since she hadn't experienced an orgasm because of a man since … Don't go there. Please, don't go there.

  A quick look at her monitor had her wanting to turn around and snarl at him. Three miles … at eight minutes a mile. But it'd been the best she could do knowing those sexy brown eyes were roaming over her, watching, examining. She'd have to do better tomorrow, when hopefully she'd be alone.

  Pressing the button to stop the machine, Eden stepped down and stalked to the shelf where she kept her towels. Ignoring the man who continued to lift weights behind her, she wiped her face and torso, then grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge. She gulped half of it with one swallow, replaced the cap, and took a deep breath.

  The noise behind her stopped. Jordan had finished his set. She forced herself to turn and face him.

  He surprised her again. His easygoing expression in no way indicated that less than half an hour ago he'd been one very aroused man.

  She told herself she was glad. She didn't need the complication of avoiding his advances. Especially not while they worked together. Eden breathed out a long, relieved sigh and continued her workout, convinced Jordan felt the same.

  They finished their workouts at the same time, since as soon as she thought he was ready to quit, Eden quit, too. She couldn't handle having him watch her anymore.

  She gestured toward a door leading to her guest bath. “There's a shower in there, if you'd like to use it.”

  Throwing her a slow smile she felt to the tips of her toes, Jordan disappeared behind the door and closed it.

  She stood frozen, staring at the closed door as her thoughts went wild with things she had no business thinking. Without conscious permission, her mind pulled off the last piece of Jordan's clothing and she pictured him completely nude… Hot water beat against his masculine body, beaded, and slid down taut, hard muscles … his big hands glided over solid velvet steel.

  Heaven help her! Eden grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge and chugged it like a dehydrated stevedore. Muttering curses at her stupidity, she headed to her shower, hoping that there was truth in what a cold shower could do for arousal.

  Under the cool blast of water, Eden forced herself to face some facts. Long ago, she'd determined that a weakness acknowledged could never defeat her. She was still attracted to Jordan. There. She admitted it. It was out in the open where it could no longer fester. And really, shouldn't she be glad about this? How long had she doubted that she still possessed normal feelings of sexual attraction? She'd thought they had been brutalized out of her. Nice to know there was still normalcy left in her.

  She stepped out of the shower and dried off, continuing her rationalization. Jordan was a handsome, charismatic man. Any woman would be attracted to him. Yes, many men she'd known over the years were just as attractive, including Noah, but her past with Jordan made her more aware of his sexuality. She knew how hot his kisses could be. Had full knowledge of his taste, his scent, and how wonderful his mouth felt on her breasts, her sex. She knew … Holy hell!

  Strange and unfamiliar sensations were pulsing through her body. Eden looked down. Nipples peaked and hard had nothing to do with her cold shower and the throb of her sex had everything to do with the man in the next room. Just thinking about Jordan had turned her on.

  Furious with her body's betrayal, she finished drying and jerked on her clothes, determined to put her mind back where it belonged. Now that she had acknowledged the attraction, recognized the problem, she could deal with it. Jordan would work for LCR for a short period of time, she would provide proof of Devon's death, and then he would leave. Until then, he would never have to call her professionalism into question again. Eden St. Claire could not be defeated!

  Mind and body back on the same page once again, Eden opened the door and stepped into the living room. She stopped in the middle of the room when she caught sight of Jordan. His hair, wet and gleaming, glowed blue-black under her dining room light. His slow, easy smile erased every word of her self-lecture.

  “I emptied the basket and set the table. Hope you don't mind.”

  Frozen, she didn't say word.

  “Eden, you okay?”

  Giving herself a mental lecture and a subsequent kick in the ass, Eden nodded and forced her legs to move toward him. “Yes, I'm fine. Just trying to remember if I got coffee at the store yesterday.”

  Okay, it was an idiotic excuse. Thankfully it worked, because he grinned and said, “Hope so. Coffee'll go great with the dessert I brought.”

  “I'll check.” She practically ran to the pantry door, flung it open, and stared at the contents. Knowing he would become suspicious any minute, she grabbed the coffee canister and turned away.

  Could she do this?

  She had to!

  eleven

  Alfred held his head in his hands. Though darkness had fallen hours ago, he didn't bother switching on the lamp beside him. The grand desk he'd had built years ago gave him no sense of satisfaction. The comfortable leather chair Inez had given him after they'd made their first million offered no respite for his weary body. His heart was ravaged, his will almost broken. His oldest son was dead and his youngest son was responsible.

  Georges had brought that vile woman into their home. She'd eaten their food, slept underneath their roof, been treated with the utmost respect. They'd intended to welcome her into their loving, close-knit family. She not only betrayed them, she had come close to destroying them and made a mockery of their kindness and generosity.

  Snatching Clement's daughter from beneath their noses had been an additional insult. The girl would have eventually been returned to her family. Having her stolen from them put him at a severe disadvantage, giving them no leverage over their rival. Now business would be even more difficult and hazardous.

  In reprisal for her abduction, Hector had killed his precious Marcus.

  Taking Hector Clement apart with his bare hands was something Alfred longed to do, but he wouldn't. Hector had made a statement by taking Marc's life. He'd avenged his daughter's loss of innocence.

  Alfred hated what had happened, but he understood it.

  A life for a life. Their feud was at an end. Each of them had lost something precious. Alfred wouldn't punish Clement.

  Claire Marchand, on the other hand, was a totally different entity.

  Not only had she caused Marc's death, she'd broken poor Georges's heart. And though it pained him to do so, he had banned his young son from the family. Georges's careless actions could not go unpunished.

  He and Inez had lost two sons and it was all due to Claire Marchand's vile, devious acts of betrayal. His poor Inez had been hysterical when she'd gone to Georges's room and found him unconscious. She had thought him dead at first. While they'd been dealing with that crisis, they'd heard gunshots.

  Alfred almost had a heart attack when he'd learned what had happened. His men had carried a bloodied and emotionally distraught Marc inside the house. While their family doctor tended his wounds, he'd brokenly explained how Claire Marchand and an army of men had accosted him. At that point, his darling Inez had completely collapsed, unable to comprehend how they'd allowed such a viperous woman into their midst.

  Since that night, his wife had been inconsolable. When Marc was murdered two days later, Alfred had fallen onto their bed with her and they sobbed their heartache out together in
each other's arms.

  This Claire Marchand had been a professional. His people were working night and day to determine who she was and where they could find her. The men sent to put Jacques Marchand out of his misery never returned. He assumed they were dead. When her identity and location were uncovered, he would send his own army to retrieve her. Until then, he had a business to run and a family to keep together … what was left of it.

  Fury, fueled by grief and exhaustion, pounded through him. When he found this Claire Marchand, or whoever the hell she was, he would personally tear her from limb to limb. Then he would let Inez finish her off. No, on second thought, he might let Inez have her first. His wife could be a ferocious tiger when it involved her family.

  Yes, seeing his Inez tear apart Claire's beautiful face would be his fantasy until he could make it a reality.

  Eden followed Jordan into the large, elegant bedroom. Maggie and Barry Johnson had arrived in Florida less than an hour ago. A slender, middle-aged man who'd introduced himself as Garrett Mahoney met them at the airport. He'd been friendly but vague about his role in their adoption plans.

  When they arrived at the ostentatious brick and rock mansion, Peter Lawson, a heavyset man with an unfortunate bulbous nose and cold, watery eyes, greeted them. He invited them in and explained he would be handling their transaction. Eden was grateful that as Maggie she didn't have to pretend to like anyone but her husband. She had been around enough bad people to recognize the wickedness in Peter Lawson.

  After spending almost two weeks together, she and Jordan had perfected their roles as the Johnsons. Because of this, Eden was able to sit back and observe. Maggie Johnson was a somewhat shy person, allowing her overprotective and overbearing husband to handle all details related to … well, everything.

  Though not a comfortable role for Eden, she found herself almost enjoying playing Maggie's subservient character, because of the opportunity it gave her to observe Jordan. Maggie would be expected to fawn over him and hang on to his every word. Eden could do this and not feel as though she revealed anything.