Sweet Reward: A Last Chance Rescue Novel

by Christy Reece

  “Three?” she asked, to see how he would explain the deaths. She wanted to watch his face. She was trained to detect lies in other people. Surely, if it was there, she would see behind Philippe’s façade to the evil that lurked within.

  “Why, yes. Another employee, their supervisor, was on his way to the press conference when he had a car accident and died.”

  “How incredibly tragic.”

  Philippe nodded. “It’s our hope that we can establish a fund for them and do even greater works in their name. I know it’s what they would have wanted.”

  Pretty damn impressive to get rid of three employees and make money off it, too. And his lying was damn impressive, as well. Only the slightest dilation of his pupils and then a small twitch on one side of his lip indicated that there was much more to this than two seemingly unrelated tragic events. What could these people have found out that had cost them their lives?

  Even now, she could imagine Jared pacing the floor, listening to and evaluating every nuance of Philippe’s speech. She couldn’t wait to get home and talk to him.

  She had been naïvely expecting a check to be presented for their meal, but when Philippe said, “Are you ready to continue our night?” she realized that handing a bill to someone as important as this man would be considered gauche. Payment would be made, but not in public.

  Devising an excuse to get home to Jared sooner was a temptation, but one she couldn’t take. This was an op; this was her job. With a silent sigh, Mia took the hand Philippe held out for her and gave him a shyly seductive look. “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

  Before the key clicked in the lock, Jared knew she was on her way up to the apartment. Philippe hadn’t bothered to escort her to her door. The man already knew he wouldn’t be spending the night, so why exert himself?

  The door pushed open, and she was there. As beautiful and sexy as any cover model but with a girl-next-door cuteness that did something strange to his chest. She leaned against the closed door, the breath of exasperation she huffed out disturbing the wisps of hair framing her face. “I thought the night would never end.”

  “Looks like you got yourself a new boyfriend.”

  She grimaced and kicked off her shoes. Padding lightly across the hardwood in her bare feet, she tugged at the zipper on the side of her dress as she came toward him. “That wasn’t exactly in the cards, but it’ll work out better this way.”

  Just because he agreed with her didn’t mean he liked it. “And it could get even more dicey if he finds out you’re playing him.”

  “He won’t. By the time he realizes it, we’ll have the information we need.”

  “Are you going to sleep with him?”

  “That’s not the plan.”

  “But you will if you have to?”

  A smile curved her mouth. “Are you jealous?”

  “Don’t be stupid. Who or what you choose to have sex with is your business. Just give me notice beforehand. Listening to you fuck someone else is not my idea of a good time.”

  She froze for several seconds and considered him. He knew he’d been deliberately crude and cruel. Why he was pushing her like this he couldn’t say, and part of him knew he deserved at the very least a slap in the face.

  Though her smile had disappeared, she reacted with the class he knew she’d been born with. “I’ll be sure to give you advance notice.” Her shoulders slumped as if she were suddenly exhausted. “I think I’ll go on to bed. We can talk about the case in the morning.”

  Words stuck in his throat as she turned away from him and disappeared into her bedroom. Being an ass was as natural to him as breathing was to other people. Mia knew what he was … she had known what she was getting into when they started working together. Just because they were sleeping together didn’t mean he’d changed. Once an ass, always an ass. That was simply who he was. A fact of life that he’d just confirmed once more.

  He stared at the closed bedroom door for several seconds, then checked his watch: only ten-thirty. Late for many places, but not too late for Paris. With one last glance toward the bedroom, Jared grabbed his jacket and keys and walked out the door.

  nineteen

  Mia woke the next morning surrounded by warmth. Arms enveloped her and held her close against a hot, hard body. Always a light sleeper, she had known the moment Jared came to bed. No words had been exchanged. She’d just snuggled into his embrace and returned to sleep.

  Though she’d slept well, she had gone to bed hurt. Jared’s boorish behavior had not only been unwarranted; the deliberateness of it held a cruelty that was over the top. He’d gone out of his way to hurt her, and that bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

  Having heard him leave the apartment last night, she hadn’t been sure when he would return. His walking out the door after having behaved so badly had seemed like a final cap on the night. For him to come back said something about him … didn’t it? Or was that just her wishful thinking?

  Mia knew the moment he woke. His arms tightened around her, and his morning erection poked her bottom. If he thought a bout of sex after being such an ass last night was going to happen, she would quickly show him differently.

  He loosened his embrace and rolled her over onto her back. She looked up at him—tousled hair, slumberous eyes, beard stubble, and sensuous male lips—and felt her resolve weaken. Why did he have to be so adorably rumpled-looking?

  Lowering his head, he gave her plenty of time to pull away. When she didn’t move, he whispered a soft kiss on her mouth. She’d barely had time to respond when he lifted his head and said, “I make a damn good Denver omelet. Stay here and I’ll bring it to you.”

  Before she could say anything, he’d jumped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Three odd things struck her as the bathroom door clicked shut. First, he hadn’t tried to seduce her with sex, though the erection he’d been sporting told her he was more than up to the task. Second, Jared had never before offered to make a meal for her. And third, he was going to bring her breakfast in bed.

  Part of her wanted to call him back to the bedroom so they could discuss last night. The other part told her to wait it out to see what happened next. She chose to wait. Time would tell if she’d made the right decision. But there was something in his demeanor that gave her pause for thought.

  Before she could ponder it further, Jared came back into the bedroom. Barefoot and dressed in a pair of faded jeans and again no shirt, he was heart-stoppingly sexy. Mia sank back onto the pillows with a sigh. She was so screwed.

  His face implacable once more, he said, “I’ll get breakfast, and then we need to go over word for word what we learned last night.”

  Jared waited for a reply, and when she just nodded solemnly, silently, he began to wonder. Any minute now, he expected her to tell him he was an asshole and she’d just as soon work with the devil himself as continue with him. When she just kept looking at him, he decided to take her not telling him to go to hell as a positive sign and headed to the kitchen.

  Cooking breakfast wasn’t a new thing for him. He was thirty-four years old and had been making his own breakfast for years. Eggs were about his only specialty, though. Anything else he wanted to eat, he either opened up a can or went out. He’d never forgotten those days when his belly gnawed at itself like a wild thing, empty and desperate; anything he’d put in his stomach had been better than having nothing at all. Bottom line: he wasn’t picky about his meals. If it filled him up, that was good enough for him.

  Mia came into the kitchen just as he gave her omelet a last flip. Sliding it onto a plate, he dropped a couple pieces of toast beside it and put it on the table. “I was going to bring it to you.”

  She scrunched up her nose in a cute grimace. “I spent months in the hospital eating breakfast in bed. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I prefer my feet on the floor and no crumbs on my sheets.”

  Hard to believe she’d actually almost died as a teenager. Not only that, she’d had to relearn m
otor skills that most people took for granted. The way she had described the experience, so matter-of-fact and without a trace of bitterness, told a lot about the kind of person she was. Mia was a survivor.

  He poured her a cup of coffee and set it in front of her, along with a rectangular box.

  She glanced at his gift, then looked up at him. “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  With a puzzled expression, she ripped into the box and pulled out a leather-bound book-shaped object.

  “When I was at your house, I saw that you had a lot of books and figured you liked to read. That’s an e-reader.” When she still said nothing, he finished lamely, “I thought you might like it.”

  The glow on her face and the brilliance of her smile made him feel as though he’d just cured world hunger. She said softly, “Thank you, Jared.”

  He poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down across from her. “It’s no big deal.” Taking a large gulp from his cup, he swallowed and said, “I phoned McCall last night. He agrees with the direction you took on Ricard. Playing up a romance, as opposed to the charity ruse, is a better angle.”

  Mia caressed the leather cover of the e-reader one last time and then returned to her breakfast. “I’ve met some egotistical men before, but nothing like Philippe. I think he’d become much more suspicious of my interest in running a charity than he would of my interest in him as a potential husband.” Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Wish I’d thought of that before.”

  “Actually, I think this plays out well. He probably thinks you used the ruse to get his interest. He’ll be flattered.”

  “Has Noah learned anything more about those deaths? The fire at the spa or the car accident?”

  “Not yet. I told him you mentioned it to Ricard. He suggested you keep those questions to a minimum.”

  She nodded. “Definitely. Asking him about it last night seemed natural, since it just happened. Going any further with it will seem strange.”

  Jared stretched his long legs out and leaned back in his chair. “So let’s go over what he told you last night.”

  She scraped up the last of her omelet and grinned up at him. “You’ve been holding out on me. You’re a good cook.”

  Stupid to feel so pleased by a compliment. Still, he couldn’t help the glow of pride that spread through him. Considering all the idiotic things he’d said to Mia, having her approval made him feel as though he’d achieved something phenomenal.

  He shrugged. “Eggs are all I do.”

  “Then you do the eggs for breakfast and I’ll take care of the rest of the meals.”

  That sounded way too much like some sort of arrangement. They were together to solve a case. The sex was a by-product—enjoyable, but still a by-product of spending so much time together.

  He gave her a quick glance. Was she changing her mind about their relationship? Seemed improbable after he’d been such an ass. The wry grin on her face gave him a good warning of her next words.

  “Relax. It’s food … not marriage.”

  The fact that she’d read him bothered him, but knowing she wasn’t looking for any permanence was such a relief that he let the other concern go. Besides, Mia was one of the most perceptive people he’d ever met. Maybe it was natural that she could read him. Most of the women he’d been involved with had taken everything at face value; Mia looked for undercurrents.

  Jared stood. “I’ll go get last night’s recording. Rehearing it might help you remember his facial expressions or pick up oddities in his speech patterns you didn’t notice last night.”

  Mia rose from her chair and started clearing the table. “Won’t take me a minute to clean up.”

  “I can do that later.”

  She set the dishes back on the table. “Okay.”

  Surprised that she hadn’t argued, Jared went after the recording. He was beginning to think that Mia might be a harder person to read than he’d first thought. Her emotions always seemed to be on the surface, and she said whatever she wanted to. This cool, controlled Mia bothered him.

  As Mia settled onto the sofa in the living room to wait for Jared, she was torn between laughing at his confusion and crying because of what he’d done. She was beginning to see that the best way to deal with him was to keep him slightly off balance. The man was way too controlled and arrogant.

  She had honestly and stupidly expected a verbal apology for his nastiness last night. But she could see that that wasn’t going to happen. Instead of an apology, she’d gotten an omelet and an e-reader. As omelets went, it had been delicious. As apologies went, it’d been tasteless. The e-reader? Okay, she was secretly thrilled with it, but she would still have preferred an apology.

  She told herself it didn’t matter. Once this case was over and she was back in Chicago, she’d remember the good things about this odd and wonderful relationship and forget the bad. That was the way things worked. The hurt would fade. Bad memories dimmed and good memories stayed … it was something she’d worked most of her adult life to achieve. This should be no different.

  Jared returned with the small tape recorder; thankfully, he’d thrown a shirt on, too. Concentration wasn’t usually a problem for her, but even as frustrated as she was with him, that hard, bare chest was a distraction she didn’t need.

  “How’d the microphone do?” She had worn the watch he’d given her on Monday night. It’d been elegant enough to go with her dress, which had been a relief, since the other jewelry with microphones had most definitely not been designed for Armani.

  “You tell me.” He pressed the Play button, and the first voice she heard was Philippe’s telling her how beautiful she looked.

  As she listened to their conversation, she watched Jared’s expression. Every time Philippe said anything remotely suggestive, his jaw tightened. She knew better than to think it had anything to do with possessiveness. In his opinion, Philippe was a sleaze. Listening to Mia, or any woman, having to endure his attentions was disgusting. It was nothing more than that.

  She sat up at a sudden oddity in Philippe’s tone. “Rewind that.”

  Mia remembered that part of the conversation well. They’d been talking about the different places each of them had traveled to in the past year, and she had deliberately mentioned a few choice locations.

  Jared backed the tape up and they listened carefully:

  “I was in Chicago, Illinois, a couple of months ago. The crime there has become appalling.”

  “I rarely go to the U.S. anymore,” Philippe said. “Just too dangerous.”

  “Oh, but it’s not just the U.S. I was in Copenhagen not long ago. It seemed every day there were reports of kidnappings or people going missing … some were even children.”

  Philippe swallowed and said, “I try not to listen to the news. I swear, they must make up half the things they report on, just to make it more scintillating.”

  Mia switched off the recorder and looked at Jared. “Did you hear the tone of his voice change?”

  “Yeah, and the nervous swallow, too.”

  “I backed off after that. Figured if I mentioned any other places, that’d be too obvious.”

  Jared nodded and flipped the recorder back on. The rest of their lengthy conversation and much too long evening became one monotonous monologue of Philippe’s accomplishments. She’d never met anyone so impressed with himself. It wasn’t until the end of the date, when he was depositing her in front of her building, that things got a little uncomfortable.

  “I have an extra hour or so if you’d like to continue this fascinating discussion in your apartment.”

  Mia had almost choked on the cognac he’d insisted she sip to take the chill off the frigid night. His definition of “fascinating” definitely differed from hers.

  And that’s when he’d put his hand on her knee and slid it up her dress. The cognac had traveled back up her throat and reemerged in her mouth with appalling bitterness. She’d taken his hand, held it lightly, and scrambled for the ri
ght thing to say. Words that would discourage this kind of advance but also let him know his attention was not unwelcome.

  “I have an early appointment tomorrow, but I’d love to see you tomorrow night … if you’re not too busy.”

  There’d been just the slightest pique in his expression before he said, “Dinner tomorrow night. Seven o’clock.”

  “Sounds wonderful. I’d love to!”

  Fortunately, the delight she’d exuded had soothed his ruffled feelings. She’d quickly gotten out of the limo, but not before he’d gone for a kiss. She’d moved so fast, he’d missed her lips and gotten her chin. Then he’d laughed and told her she didn’t have to be nervous with him.

  She’d finally escaped the car and hurried into the lobby, almost afraid that he’d change his mind and follow her inside, continuing the unpleasantness. Thankfully, he hadn’t. However, the greeting she’d received when she had walked into her apartment hadn’t been exactly pleasant, either.

  Jared quickly clicked the Stop button before that conversation could play. “About last night … you do know he’s going to try to sleep with you, don’t you?”

  It wasn’t an apology, but at least it wasn’t an accusation, either. Perhaps they could discuss this rationally.

  “I’ll put him off as much as I can.”

  “And when he can’t be put off anymore?”

  She huffed out an exasperated breath. “I don’t plan to sleep with him, Jared. Do you think he’s the only man who’s ever tried to have sex with me, or do you just think I sleep with everyone who makes a pass at me?”

  The glare in his eyes told her the temper was there, but he answered in a reasonable tone. “I’m sure there are a lot of men who’ve wanted to sleep with you that you weren’t interested in. And I won’t even dignify the last part of your question with a response. However, this might be the first man you’ve tried to get information from who wanted to sleep with you. How are you going to continue to put him off?”