Rescue Me: A Novel

by Christy Reece

  Tomorrow, when they returned to Paris, she would present Devon's file to him. Had she lied to herself that he'd ever cared what happened to Devon? Was it what she'd suspected in the beginning? Devon Winters's disappearance was a mystery to be solved and nothing more? Had she given Jordan attributes he didn't possess simply because, romantic fool that she was, she wanted to believe the very best of him? Was he, quite simply, just a man … and not even a particularly good man? Once again she'd turned him into a hero; once again he'd disappointed her.

  Fine. She'd learned her lesson—her final lesson. Tomorrow the mystery would be solved. Jordan could at last put Devon's disappearance behind him and move on.

  Noah would be returning soon. Jordan could be on his way, could get back to his fiancée and his nice, normal life.

  And Eden would return to the insulated, isolated world she had created for herself.

  twenty-one

  “You sure you're feeling okay tonight?”

  An odd little frown cracked the cool marble of an unnaturally composed face. “Of course, I'm fine.”

  Well, there he had it. Three fines, one distinctly fake laugh, and a kiss that would freeze the ass off a penguin. What the hell was wrong with her? He'd always put Eden in a category by herself. One that didn't include being temperamental or moody. When she was angry, she let it show.

  When he'd first met her, he had to dig deep to see beyond the beautiful mask she showed the world, but in the last few weeks, that mask had disappeared. She'd been open, loving, tender … everything a man could want in a woman.

  Tonight, she was just as beautiful, but something was missing. Vitality … life. Had he done or said something earlier?

  At that thought, Jordan stopped himself in disgust. This had been another reason he'd avoided serious relationships. Women. Who could understand them?

  “Do you want more wine?”

  She shook her head and offered him another cool smile. “Honestly, if you don't mind, I think I'll call it a night.” With those words and no explanation, she rose to her feet and walked away.

  Jordan stood and threw his napkin on the table in disgust. This night sure as hell hadn't turned out the way he'd planned. When had anything with Eden gone the way he planned?

  He'd brought her here for rest … but also seduction. Instead, he'd been the one seduced … spellbound, mesmerized, and ready for a commitment.

  Using the excuse of taking a run this morning, he had gone to a nearby jewelry store one of the servants told him about. He'd found the perfect two-carat diamond ring. It would look beautiful on Eden's slender hand … her left hand.

  Now, for what ever reason, she was treating him as though he had the plague.

  Jordan's long legs ate up the stairway three steps at a time. He wanted an explanation. Maybe her arm was hurting her. What ever it was, they needed to get it settled because he had every intention of proposing tonight.

  Eden whirled around when Jordan stomped into the room. She knew he was angry and confused. She'd done a lousy job of hiding her feelings. All of her training had deserted her. There was no poise, no calm, no self-confidence. She was a woman betrayed by the man she loved, and she couldn't seem to get past that and be anything else.

  “Okay Eden, out with it.”

  She blinked up at him warily. He was ready to fight and she wasn't sure she could win against a gnat in her over-emotional condition. She tried for a cool look. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Don't play games with me. What the hell's wrong with you? Ever since this morning, when I came back from my run, you've acted as if I had a disease you didn't want to catch.”

  Knowing if she continued to look at him, she'd spill her guts, she turned her back on him. “Don't be ridiculous. I just—”

  A hard hand grasped her upper arm and pulled her around to face him. Without meaning to, Eden cried out. Her arm was healing, but still sore. Jordan inadvertently grabbed the most sensitive part.

  “Shit … Are you okay?”

  She burst into tears. Of all the stupid, asinine, completely unpredictable things she could do, Eden found herself blubbering like a two-year-old.

  Warm arms wrapped around her. “Shh. It's okay. I'm sorry I hurt you.” He continued his soft monologue, though Eden only heard parts of it. Her loud sobs overwhelmed his voice.

  She was dimly aware that Jordan had picked her up and was laying her on the bed. Eden tried to turn away from him, but he held both her shoulders, giving her no opportunity to escape.

  “Let me take a look at your arm. Then we're going to talk.”

  She kept her eyes closed, to ward off tears, but mostly because she had humiliated herself. She didn't break down like that, and had always been somewhat disdainful of women who allowed their emotions to bubble up and explode. Now she had joined those ranks of overemotional women, and on top of everything else, she probably looked like crap.

  She felt fingers probing gently at her tender flesh. It hurt a little, but Eden refused to show any more weakness. Besides, the fault had been hers as much as his. She knew not to turn her back on a tiger. She'd reacted with pure panic.

  “The skin's not broken. I must have hit a tender spot. I'm sorry.”

  Eden shook her head and forced herself to open her eyes. He looked so gentle, so concerned, so incredibly loving. How could he be a cheater? How could he dishonor his promise to his fiancée?

  Oh God, how can I bear to let him go?

  “Eden, talk to me. Tell me what's happened… What's wrong?”

  “Devon's dead.” The words sprang from her mouth without will or purpose. They were just there.

  Jordan's eyes widened and blinked as if not quite believing what he heard. “How do you know?” His hoarse whisper grated across her heart.

  Eden struggled to sit up, feeling too vulnerable to talk while on her back. Jordan pulled away from her and watched as she sat up in bed. Crossing her legs in front of her and hugging her arms tight around them, Eden did what she'd done so well for the past seven years. She lied.

  “While you were gone, I got a call from my source in D.C. He was able to track down the last town she went to. After she left D.C., she lived in at least three different small towns we know of. The last one, she was working as a waitress. There was a robbery… She was killed.”

  While she'd been talking, Jordan moved away from her and was now slumped in a chair several feet away. Eden breathed deeply, finally feeling a small semblance of control. When he was close, she never knew what she would say, how she would react. That was one of the reasons she'd blurted out the news. Another reason had been much simpler but even more selfish. She simply wanted to take his attention off her and put it somewhere else.

  It worked, but not the way she'd hoped. Jordan's tanned, healthy complexion was pale, his eyes empty, tortured, like a man who'd just received devastating news. And she'd delivered that news with all the sensitivity of a short-order cook announcing the daily specials at a diner.

  “I'm sorry, Jordan. I know you'd hoped for a better outcome. I wish—”

  “Where is she buried?”

  “Wha … what?”

  “I want to see where she's buried … talk to the people who were with her the last hours of her life. Who were they, did they know her well, was she lonely? I have to see for myself what her last days were like.”

  “Jordan, I'm not sure … the people who spoke to my source … they wanted to keep their privacy … I'm not sure I'll—”

  He stood and jerked open the closet door. “Then I'll go there myself and convince them to talk to me.”

  Panic and guilt zoomed through her. “What are you doing?”

  “I'm packing. I need to get back to the States.”

  “Wait … it's late. We'll leave early in the morning. There's no need to leave tonight. The drive's too long.”

  Jordan threw his duffel bag on the floor with a disgusted sigh. “You're right.” He glanced at his watch. “I'll go call the airlines and book my flight
for tomorrow night. That way I'll be able to get you back home, take a look at your files, and then take off.”

  The door slammed behind him before she knew he was even leaving the room.

  Eden almost fell off the bed, in complete shock at what had just occurred. Jordan hadn't acted the way she'd anticipated. He acted as if he really cared … as she'd thought before Noah delivered the devastating news that Jordan was engaged.

  God, what had she done?

  The answer twisted her stomach with acidic truth. She'd let her hurt and betrayal overcome her common sense, and her decency.

  And now what was she going to do? He wanted to talk to the people she'd talked with. She hadn't really talked with anyone. Oh, she had some sources she could put together quickly if she needed to, but nothing to the magnitude of producing a burial site and people who'd worked with her and known her. She had names of eyewitnesses, but they weren't real people. Even when she'd thought Jordan cared, she never thought he'd want to go so far as to talk to anyone. She stupidly believed he would take it at face value and let it go.

  What was she going to do? If she told him she'd lied and Devon wasn't dead, he would hate her. If she went even further and confessed that she was Devon, he would hate her even more.

  And if she just let him believe the lie, he'd go to the States and realize she lied. It would take days to come up with the tangible proof Jordan insisted he needed to see.

  No matter what she did, she was caught in a lie … and had no one to blame but herself.

  Eden had never known a self-loathing as she did right now.

  Wearier than she'd ever been before, she shuffled to the bathroom. After her bout of tears, her eyes stung as if filled with sand. She needed to get her contacts out and give her eyes a rest. Avoiding her reflection, she removed her lenses. Her shame was so immense, she couldn't bear to see the guilt and ridicule in her face.

  After brushing her teeth, she slipped into a nightgown and fell into bed. How funny that this night started with her hating Jordan for deceiving her about being engaged. And now, only hours later, that particular sin no longer seemed like such a terrible crime. He'd never promised her anything, had given no real indication he wanted anything but a good time and mind-blowing sex. She was the one who'd created this fairy-tale world … just as she had once before.

  No matter what Jordan had or hadn't done, he didn't deserve what she'd done to him.

  Something stilled inside her. There was no hope for her and Jordan—that much was evident. But there was still time to redeem herself … still time to be a better person. Though it would be like filleting the skin from her bones, she vowed that when he returned, she would tell him everything.

  Minutes or hours passed. Eden didn't know how long. She felt a slight bounce to the bed, then a hand swept up her thigh, caressing her hip … her stomach.

  “Mmm. Jordan,” she whispered in a sleep-fogged voice.

  Hot breath caressed her as his lips trailed down the side of her face, before coming to rest on her mouth. “Let me love you, Eden.”

  Shutting down her conscience, Eden went with her emotions. She opened her mouth, inviting his kiss. This was her last chance, her only chance to have him … one last chance to show him how much he meant to her. One last chance to be his.

  Jordan groaned when her hand swept down his chest. She felt his stomach clench when she caressed his abdomen, seeking the hot male part of him she craved. Wrapping her hand around as much as she could, she pumped him lovingly.

  “Eden, baby … I have to be inside you right now.”

  No thought of denying him entered her mind. Eden spread her legs wide, allowing Jordan to settle between them. He gave her no warning, but surged inside her fully. Though she wasn't quite ready for him, she shifted and squirmed, working to allow him deeper, wanting him inside her, as deep as he could go and to stay forever.

  Jordan gave her a few seconds to get more comfortable and then began a long hard ride. She met every thrust with an upward surge … allowing him to pound into her … rejoicing in the heat … the sensation … the sheer power of his body working over hers.

  He rose to his knees and spread her legs even wider; hooking her legs over his arms, he thrust deeper, harder. Eden opened her eyes … startled that the room was so bright. Jordan must have turned on a light. She could see his face … his beautiful, wholly masculine face staring down at her with the darkly intent expression of supreme male conquering his female. Feral, wild, and delicious.

  They stared at each other for endless seconds. Both seemingly mesmerized by the intensity of the moment, the amazing primal connection … male to female … mate to mate.

  Surge, plunge, retreat … over and then over again.

  Her climax near, Jordan pressed down harder, giving her the freedom of riding his shaft … milking him and allowing the sweet, sweet promise of release all the way to the culmination of a fiery, explosive end.

  Jordan reached his climax seconds later, pounding into her forcefully … wonderfully and completely.

  At last, both breathing with heavy pants, they lay in each other's arms. Though she wanted to wait, to savor and exploit every second, she couldn't. Trembling for a new reason, she whispered hoarsely, “Jordan, I—”

  The deep, even breaths in her ear told her he was already asleep.

  She lay there till dawn, not wanting to sleep and miss a moment. Unchecked tears fell down her face as she savored this last time in the arms of the man she had loved forever … would always love.

  Hours later, Eden woke … surprised she'd slept … angry she'd slept.

  The sound of the shower running in the bathroom alerted her that Jordan was up, already getting ready. For endless seconds she lay there, sadness and regret pressing deep. When the water stopped, she forced her body to move. There was another bathroom just down the hallway, and she'd made use of it a couple of times. If she could get cleaned up, feel refreshed and halfway human, she would face Jordan with much more self-assurance than she felt right now.

  As water beat down upon her, she rehearsed what she would say. The reasons for her lies at the beginning were valid. Hopefully she could make him understand that. But later, when she had numerous opportunities, there were no excuses. And last night, blurting out Devon was dead. Nausea stirred in her gut.

  Stepping out of the shower, she dried quickly and threw on her clothes. The need to get the words out was suddenly a compulsion. She opened the door to their bedroom to see Jordan zipping her suitcase.

  Eyes solemn and searching, his expression was impossible to read. “I figured since I packed them for you, you wouldn't mind if I repacked.”

  She shook her head and offered him a tight smile, so tongue-tied she couldn't form a coherent word, much less the full and complicated truth of her deception.

  He jerked his head over to the small table in the corner where they'd shared so many of their meals the last few days. “Coffee and croissants.” He picked up the bags. “I'll be back in a minute.”

  He walked out the door and she didn't try to stop him. I'll tell him in the car. We have a three-hour drive ahead of us … surely by the time we reach the city, I'll be able to come up with the right words to make him understand.

  Four hours later, Eden opened the door to her apartment, Jordan following her. They'd said almost nothing to each other on the way home. She'd tried—honestly she had. But Jordan cut her off so many times with “Not now … later” or “I don't feel like talking right now,” she'd given up.

  Eden knew she could have blurted it out as she had last night, but she couldn't do that to him again. One thing was certain. They were here now and she wouldn't let him leave until she told him the full truth.

  “Jordan, we really need to talk.”

  “Get me the file.”

  “Wait … please.”

  “The file. Now.”

  She'd never heard his voice so hard, almost cruel. A chill rushed through her veins, freezing everything in its p
ath. Yes she had. Seven years ago, Jordan had sounded just like that.

  Her movements jerky and uncoordinated, she went to her desk and pulled the file she'd prepared weeks ago. Feeling as though wet cement pulled at her feet, she crossed the room and handed it to him.

  “Before you read it, I need to tell you—” Eden stood frozen in place as she watched him turn and stalk out the door without a word.

  Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. And what a shame he was such a stupid fool. Things started clicking into place almost immediately and he'd ignored every damn one of them.

  Jordan took one last look at the file Eden had given him and flung it across the room. He didn't care what happened to it. All of it, every word was a lie. He'd gone through it twice. It was good … damn good. A damn good fake.

  How the hell had he let it happen again? A man who'd relied on subterfuge his entire life had been screwed twice by the same woman. It'd be damn funny if he didn't feel like such an idiot.

  He shouldn't be angry with her. She'd seen her mark … saw a chance to get back at him and she had … with a vengeance.

  She was good, he had to give her that. Noah, too. He had known all along … went along with it. For all he knew, they called each other and laughed about what a supreme sucker he was.

  Clues that should have been apparent sprang to his mind one by evil one. The tattoo on her shoulder. How many people had a vibrant blue hummingbird on their right shoulder? He'd asked her about it once and she lied convincingly that she'd done it in a fit of whimsy a couple of years ago after seeing a documentary on hummingbirds.

  Her animosity when he first met her, when she'd had no reason to dislike him. The conversation he'd heard between Dr. Arnot and his assistant that she didn't need to have more surgeries. Just how many had she had to make her look like a completely different person?