Duty Bound

by Samantha Chase

  I shrugged. “I realize that Harper was a unique case. She’s Gavin’s sister, and the situation just sort of landed in my lap. I didn’t come back here to be a PI or a bodyguard, but that’s what I ended up doing. And I think that I did a pretty good job at it.” I looked over at Sebastian. “I think we worked well together.”

  Seb nodded. “So what are you thinking? That you want to start some sort of security agency or something?”

  I looked at the three of them. It was exactly what I was thinking. “I do. I think that we could be good at it. We could all be good at it.”

  Cole made a face. “You mean the four of us?”

  “Absolutely. I think we’re all at a point in our lives when we’re looking to do something with our training, something with a purpose. I think we’d be good at this. We’d all bring something to the table.” I took another swallow of beer. “What do you think?”

  Declan ran a hand over his face. “How would we possibly get started? I mean, you said it yourself, the situation with Harper just sort of happened. How would we find clients?”

  I looked over at Sebastian, who met my gaze with a knowing look. He said, “I think I might have a connection or two that could get us started. I might also be able to dig up the start-up costs.”

  “I don’t know,” Declan said. “It seems kind of iffy. What if we never get a case?”

  “What if we get more than one?” I asked. “I’m not saying we should all give up our day jobs right away, but I think we should consider it. What do you say?”

  We looked at each other for a minute. Then, just like I remember doing as a kid, I put my hand out in the middle of the table. Sebastian placed his on top of mine and Cole on top of his.

  “Oh, what the hell,” Declan said as he slapped his hand on the top of the pile. “Let’s do this stupid thing.”

  Three months ago, I’d been a man without purpose, with no hope for the future. Things weren’t all perfect now. There were still questions about the accident that caused Gavin’s death that lingered in my mind sometimes—waiting for an answer. But something important had transformed about my world.

  I had Harper at home now. And, as I sat there and clinked glasses in a toast with my friends, I realized my future was suddenly brimming with possibilities.

  I couldn’t wait to get started.

  About Noelle Adams

  Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she teaches English, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

  She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances. For more information, please check out her website: noelle-adams.com.

  Other Books by Noelle Adams

  One Hot Night: Three Contemporary Romance Novellas

  A Negotiated Marriage

  Listed

  Bittersweet

  Missing

  Revival

  Seducing the Enemy

  Playing the Playboy

  Holiday Heat

  Married for Christmas

  Salvation

  Engaging the Boss

  Excavated

  A Baby for Easter

  Excerpt from Salvation

  “I’m not trying to make choices for you.” Gideon’s voice was rough with impatience. “I just think you’re not letting yourself get back into life, and I don’t see how it can possibly be good for you.”

  “I’ll decide what’s good for me,” I gritted out, using the same words I’d used before because I couldn’t think of another reply. “I don’t want to go.”

  “Okay. Fine.” He leaned back against the couch, taking another gulp of his beer, and I could tell he wasn’t happy with me.

  I didn’t care. I wasn’t happy with him either.

  I felt frustrated and jittery and upset, and I really needed him to leave soon so I could get back on the elliptical trainer.

  “Did you hurt your arm?” Gideon asked.

  I blinked in surprise, and he nodded down at my arm, which I was still rubbing compulsively.

  I dropped my hand immediately. “Not really. It’s just a little tendonitis or something.”

  He reached over and took my wrist in his hand, and I jerked away from him.

  “What the hell?” he asked, his eyes searching my face in that intrusive way again. “I was just going to rub it for you.”

  I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want him to touch me. I wanted him to just go away so I could push myself into battered oblivion again. But, if I objected, it would just give him more ammunition for his concerns, so I relented and stretched my arm out.

  He took it again and very gently started to rub the inside of my wrist.

  I tried to relax back against the couch so he wouldn’t see that it bothered me. His eyes were focused on the television, as if his massage was simply an afterthought, hardly on his radar at all. But his touch seemed strangely careful, starting softly and growing more firm as he moved slowly from my wrist up to my elbow.

  He had to touch me over my sleeve as he moved up my arm, since I was wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt. It was a warm night, but I felt safer without any skin showing, so I never wore tanks and shorts anymore.

  He didn’t say anything. He seemed to be thinking only about sports. But he kept up the massage for a long time.

  It actually felt good. Really good. Easing the sore muscles, soothing them with pressure, causing pleasant sensations to ripple up through my shoulder. His fingers were strong and gentle at the same time, and I didn’t really understand how they could be both.

  I took a shuddering breath and tried to pretend I wasn’t reacting. But I was. I was.

  I didn’t want it to feel good. My body couldn’t feel good. It didn’t match how the rest of me felt, and so it was a jarring incongruity. Upsetting in a way I couldn’t articulate.

  Something inside me was shaking, but I used all the will I could muster to force it down, to keep the shaking from moving into my body.

  He was just rubbing my forearm. He hadn’t even moved past my elbow.

  He’d massaged back down to my wrist, and I thought he was nearly finished. But then he started up my arm again, and this time his fingers were under the fabric, pushing up my sleeve as he went.

  It felt even better and even worse. He was touching my skin, and the resulting sensations were pleasant, soothing, really good. And I simply couldn’t feel good.

  For the first time, I looked over at him, trying to figure out a way to tell him to stop without worrying or offending him. But, as I looked over, I saw he wasn’t watching TV anymore. He was looking down at my inner forearm and the inside of my elbow.

  And I knew—I knew—what he was doing. He was checking it. Because I always wore long sleeves. He was checking to see if I was cutting myself or doing drugs or something. He was using the excuse of the massage to pry even more.

  I jerked my arm out of his grip and glared at him coldly, pushing my sleeve back down.

  He saw the look and understood it. He knew I knew what he’d been doing and how I felt about it, so I didn’t have to say anything.

  He wasn’t actually wrong. It just wasn’t taking the form he suspected.

  ***

  You can find more information about Salvation here.

  About Samantha Chase

  New York Times and USA Today Bestseller/contemporary romance writer Samantha Chase released her debut novel, Jordan's Return, in November 2011. Although she waited until she was in her 40's to publish for the first time, writing has been a lifelong passion. Her motivation to take that step was her students: teaching creative writing to elementary age students all the way up through high school and encouraging those students to follow their writing dreams gave Sa
mantha the confidence to take that step as well.

  When she's not working on a new story, she spends her time reading contemporary romances, blogging, playing way too many games of Scrabble on Facebook and spending time with her husband of 25 years and their two sons in North Carolina. For more information visit her website at www.chasing-romance.com.

  Other Books by Samantha Chase

  Jordan’s Return

  The Christmas Cottage

  Ever After

  Catering to the CEO

  In the Eye of the Storm

  Wait for Me

  Trust in Me

  Stay With Me

  A Touch of Heaven

  Mistletoe Between Friends

  The Snowflake Inn

  The Baby Arrangement

  Baby, I’m Yours

  Baby, Be Mine (Coming Soon!)

  Excerpt from Baby, Be Mine

  “But it’s an emergency.”

  Olivia sighed. “Seriously, Mike; to you, everything’s an emergency.”

  “This time I’m serious.”

  “Look, I really wish I could help you…”

  “You can. You’re here in town and you said that you need a distraction; something to take your mind off of work for a while. I’m just saying that this is a situation that is pretty desperate and I really think you could help.”

  A migraine was beginning to throb behind her right eye. “I’m taking the month off so that I can relax and even though you won’t tell me exactly what this dire situation is, I can tell that it is not something that is going to help me in that department.”

  “Liv,” Mike said with exasperation, “why can’t you just trust me? Five minutes of your time; that’s all I’m asking.”

  “I was willing to give you some of my time - when we were supposed to meet for lunch this afternoon. You stood me up, remember?”

  “Because of this situation!” he fairly growled. “Seriously, haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”

  “I have, Mike. You’re just not saying anything that interests me.” Olivia was growing bored with this conversation and yawned loudly to get her point across.

  “Okay, I should have called you.”

  “You think?” she said sarcastically.

  “I’m sorry. There was an…”

  “Emergency?”

  “Yes, this situation came up and I had to take care of it. Now I need your help. Please, Liv. You’re the only one that can help.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “If you’d just meet with me, you’ll understand.”

  Olivia knew she was fighting a losing battle. There was no way in the world that she was going to get her brother to let this go and the sooner she went and met with him, the sooner she could say no with a clear conscience. “Fine,” she said dramatically. “Where are you?”

  “I’m over at Jake’s place. Well, his parents place. You remember where it is?”

  Everything in Olivia went numb. Jake? Jake Knight? There was no way in hell that she was going to do anything that involved him and there was nothing that her brother could say, no amount of guilt he could lay on her to make her change her mind.

  “Liv? Are you there?”

  “Huh? What?”

  “You remember where Jake’s parents lived, right?”

  “Lived?”

  “Oh, right. You probably didn’t know. His parents were killed in a car accident about a year ago. Getting their estate in order has been a bit of a nightmare but for now, Jake’s living in the old house until he has it ready to sell.”

  What was she supposed to say to that? Why hadn’t anyone told her about it? She never told anyone about the humiliation she felt at her eighteenth birthday over Jake, so that couldn’t be the reason.

  “Liv?” Mike said with more than a hint of frustration.

  “I…I can’t, Mike. I’m sorry. I’m sure that whatever the problem is, you and Jake can work it out.” No sooner had the words come out of her mouth than she heard a strange sound in the background. “What was that?”

  Mike sighed wearily. “A baby crying.”

  Olivia’s heart sank. Why was there a baby crying? Did Jake have kids? Seriously, was her brother looking at her to come over and babysit for Jake and his probably Barbie-perfect wife and their baby? Was he out of his mind? She was just about to ask him that exact question when he spoke again.

  “It’s a long story, Liv, and it’s a bit crazy here right now. Can you please just come over?”

  She took a steadying breath and counted to ten. “I’m not interested in being a babysitter so that you guys can go out or something. You’ll have to find somebody else.”

  “It’s not like that!” Mike snapped. Then, a bit calmer, he said, “Look, I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice. Remember your senior year of college when you needed me to buy you a ticket home from Vegas and I did it – no questions asked?”

  Dammit. “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m asking for the same courtesy. I need you to come here, no questions asked.”

  “Mike, you have no idea what you’re asking.”

  “I do, Liv, and I’m sorry but we really need your help.”

  It would have been so much easier if she had just decided to have her mental sabbatical back in L.A. where she belonged but no, Olivia had felt the need to come home and be near her family. She’d know better for the next time.