What colossal gall he had. What she really wanted to say was “Not in this lifetime, baby.” Instead she forced herself to smile, the combination of Chianti and his masculine scent making her senses whirl. Boy, she would do anything for a cigarette. Noel Robinson was smooth. Too smooth.
She kept quiet throughout the short drive. At last, Noel pulled the Land Rover up to the curb in front of her house. “Home, sweet home,” he announced, coming around to the passenger side to open the door and offer his hand. Eden took the hand he offered, but shrugged free once she was out of the vehicle.
Not disconcerted in the least, Noel followed her up the poorly lit pathway. On the landing of her front steps he turned her around to face him.
“Thanks for agreeing to have dinner,” he said, touching the tip of her nose like a little boy. “I really enjoy your company.”
“The feeling is mutual.” She laughed nervously, forgetting that only moments ago she’d been peeved.
“Eden,” Noel said, cupping her face between his palms, “you do know there’s strong chemistry between us.”
Before she could say another word, he pulled her close until their bodies touched. His lips trailed the sensitive place behind her ear, the edges of her jaw, and dipped to claim her mouth. His probing tongue found a welcoming home inside.
Eden closed her eyes and let the kiss sweep her away. This man whom she distrusted but liked more than she should, evoked wild feelings. Feelings that were too new to explore. Something about him drew her, making her forget she’d come to associate love with betrayal, loss and a great deal of pain. And she couldn’t even begin to explain why, from the moment she’d set eyes on Noel, she’d felt an unexplainable connection. A feeling she’d come home.
The hum of a car’s engine broke the mood. Eden stepped out of Noel’s arms. His reluctant, “I’ve got to go, baby. Will I see you tomorrow?” was lost as a car door slammed. She forced herself to look at the black Mercury Sable parked in front of his house and not at his tight buns as he walked away. The automobile was the same one she’d seen before, carrying the same men. She watched Noel return the men’s bear hugs, then lead them up the winding front steps. He threw her one last look before disappearing inside.
Eden unlocked her door and stepped in. She stumbled as a ball of fur streaked past, forcing her to clutch the doorjamb for support. “Kahlua,” she cried, already knowing it was useless. Her cat would be back when she was good and ready.
Even more frustrated, Eden slammed the door hard. The miserable beast could stay out all night if that’s what she wanted; maybe she’d even move in with Noel. Let’s see how he’d enjoy chasing her or changing litter. Eden flung her pocketbook on the antique dining table and then picked it up, rummaging through it. She needed a cigarette now. To hell with Noel Robinson and his gruesome stories of lung cancer; he’d already done enough damage, penetrating the tight cocoon she’d woven around her heart, making her feel again. To top that off, she had a runaway cat to contend with. She could strangle the animal. Strangle Noel Robinson, too; for that matter. Where were those damn cigarettes?
At last, Eden located an almost full pack of Merits. She jammed a butt into her mouth, struck a match, and inhaled deeply. And though the cigarette tasted metallic, she repeated the action. Nicotine would eventually steady her nerves, she hoped. That failing, she might even resort to Scotch. Anything to keep her hands busy and not listen to the little voice in her head, and its insane whispers. She couldn’t be attracted to Noel Robinson. Not her. She wouldn’t let that happen.
What was she thinking? She’d allowed lust to get in the way of reason. Holding the lit cigarette, Eden slid the back door open. She flopped down on the patio chair and swung her feet onto the covered Jacuzzi. Dragging on the cigarette, she exhaled loudly. It tasted awful. She ground the butt under her heel. Chianti and cigarettes obviously didn’t go down well.
Noel’s blinds were partially closed, still, she could see the silhouettes of three men. Oh, to be a fly on the wall and hear the discussion around that table. What could be a plausible explanation for these late-night visits? Poker? She didn’t think so. Could Noel be an undercover cop, or was he just an unsavory character? Eden’s imagination ran the gamut. What if he was a participant in the Witness Protection Program? It was an outlandish thought that had possibilities. That would certainly explain his secretiveness, his house, his supposed occupation.
She grasped at straws, looking for reasonable explanations to justify his existence. It made her even more determined to find out what he was hiding.
Chapter 5
“Eden,” Noel called, his nose pressed against the sliding glass door.
She appeared not to hear him and sat hunched over the kitchen table, absorbed in a mess of papers.
“Eden!” Noel shouted, rapping once, twice and then waiting for her to look up.
At last she glanced over, quickly removed red-rimmed glasses, and spectacles in hand, headed in his direction.
The moment the door slid open, Kahlua raced in. The cat rubbed herself against Eden’s ankles, meowing loudly. Noel proffered the bouquet of yellow tulips hidden behind his back and spoke quickly, “I’ve brought you a peace offering to make up for no dessert last evening. May I come in?”
A wide smile replaced Eden’s serious expression. She greeted him like a long-lost friend. It was a good thing he’d thought of the flowers.
“Of course, but Noel, you shouldn’t have,” she said with genuine delight.
“Yes, I should, and I have. It’s the least I could do, given the abrupt end to our evening. I really am sorry, Eden.”
Her smile indicated she’d already forgiven him. “Your flowers are beautiful, absolutely gorgeous, and my favorite,” she said, accepting the arrangement. She sniffed at his gift, and in a melancholy voice added, “Tulips always remind me of spring in Central Park.”
“That’s right, you’re a New Yorker.” He’d checked out Eden Sommers’ background thoroughly, and knew that she spent many of her free days in the park, even knew the hospital where she was born.
“Born and bred. The park’s one of the few places you go to escape the concrete jungle.”
“Am I forgiven then?” He touched her cheek.
She looked at him with those huge brown eyes, waiting for him to go on. What could he tell her without jeopardizing his cover? “I’d made plans with friends,” he finally admitted. “I couldn’t exactly cancel at the last minute. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” Again she buried her nose in the bouquet.
“So, what are you doing?” Noel glanced at the cluttered table.
Eden perched her oversize glasses on her forehead. “Why don’t you sit and I’ll tell you?” She gestured to the one chair that wasn’t cluttered. “Have you had lunch?”
Noel nodded. The abandoned tuna from last evening could qualify as lunch, he supposed.
“Coffee then?”
“No thanks. I’ll take water if you have it.” He sat on the chair she indicated, Kahlua at his feet.
Eden returned with a tray holding his tulips, two glasses, and a bottle of Pellegrino. She set the vase, drink, and glasses down, brushed a stack of papers aside and then took the seat across from him.
“I’ve been going through some of the maintenance logs,” she said, gesturing to the haphazard pile. “They’ve given me a headache.”
“Find anything?”
“Nothing unusual so far. Though I haven’t had a real opportunity to read each log entry in detail.” She massaged her temples, shifted her glasses to a safer position at the top of her head, and continued. “Frankly, this has gotten overwhelming, and Lori’s supposed to send me more.”
Noel fanned out the papers in front of him. His strong point was organization, and this lady could definitely use his help. “Why don’t we start by putting these in order?” he said, “Have you figured out how far back they go?”
“I’ve got six months of stuff. The rest, Lori’s having delive
red by courier.”
Noel drummed his fingers on the table as he planned his mode of attack. “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go month by month, starting from January. Anything that says January you hand to me. I’ll put it in date order.”
They worked through the better part of the afternoon, putting order to the mess. Noel insisted they set up folders, and Eden generated labels from her computer.
After a while, Noel came to stand behind her. “Quitting time,” he whispered. His hands massaged her aching shoulders. Kahlua remained fast asleep under the table.
Eden trembled under his touch.
“You okay?” He shot her a puzzled look.
“I’m fine. Just suffering from withdrawal.” Eden laughed nervously. She turned, stretched out her hands, and pretended to shake. “I haven’t had a nicotine fix all afternoon. I’m dying.”
Noel’s eyes twinkled, making his laugh lines even more pronounced around the edges. “I wondered if you’d quit.”
Eden stuck out her tongue. She stood and shook out her limbs. All that sitting made her feel like a pretzel. “If you must know, I’ve decided to cut back.” She omitted mentioning that she’d considered giving up cigarettes altogether. They no longer tasted right, but she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
“Wonder of wonders.”
Eden shot him a look that could freeze water, her tart response was cut off by the doorbell. Immediately she sensed Noel’s unease and hastened to reassure him. “Probably someone delivering the maintenance logs. You stay put. I’ll check it out.”
She returned with two huge envelopes, waving them in his direction. “Ta data! Lori came through. Our packages have arrived.”
Noel tried his best to tamp down his own excitement. “How did your friend manage to accomplish so much in so little time?”
“You don’t know Lori,” Eden said matter-of-factly, “My guess is that she roped Michael into bringing home the logs…”
“Michael?”
“Her husband is a supervisor on the ramp, remember? Lori also has several able and willing children.” Eden tossed the envelopes on the table.
“We should be thankful for all those eyes and hands then. Now tell me you aren’t going to sift through that pile tonight?” Noel’s jutted jaw indicated the packages Eden had deposited. When she didn’t answer right off, he added, “Why not wait until tomorrow when I can help you? We’ll establish a schedule where I work on my furniture in the morning and come over to help you in the afternoon. That way we’ll blow through this stuff in record time.”
It sounded like a good idea. Alone it would be a tedious process. “Deal,” Eden said, extending her hand.
Noel took the hand she proffered, but instead of shaking, squeezed it. “Told you we’d make a good team.” He pulled her toward him and lowered his voice.
“In fact I think we’d make a helluva team, both personally and professionally.”
He left little doubt as to what he meant. When he released her hand and linked an arm around her waist, she tilted her head to receive his kiss. She wasn’t disappointed. The kiss started off slow then built in intensity. His tongue probed her mouth, demanding that she give him all: body, soul, and something more. Despite the fact it was all happening too fast with a man she didn’t trust, Eden held nothing back.
“Noel,” she eventually panted, her shortness of breath indicating she was on the verge of an attack. “Noel…we’ve got to stop.”
His hands played with the sides of her breasts, releasing an ache that needed soothing. What had happened to the wall she’d built around her heart?
As the first beads of sweat dotted her brow, she remembered her doctor’s advice. “Take deep breaths, Eden. Visualize you’re in a safe place with someone you trust…your mother, maybe.”
But Noel Robinson wasn’t her mother; he was the catalyst for what promised to be a full-blown panic attack, unless she took control.
“Noel,” Eden gasped, pushing him away. “Aren’t you hungry? We’ve worked like dogs all day. Perhaps I can cook you dinner, that is, if you’re willing to go to the store with me.”
As the kiss and his ministrations ceased, Eden counted to ten and concentrated on her breathing.
Noel seemed equally shaken. He smoothed his hair with an unsteady hand and managed to get out, “Sure I’m hungry, Eden—starving as a matter of fact, but not for food.”
It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Concentrate. Don’t give in to those feelings of disorientation. Focus on your breathing. It worked. The tightness in her chest eased, and the dizziness dissipated. She was even able to joke, “And I thought it was your stomach talking.”
“You’re actually offering me a home-cooked meal?” Noel repeated, sounding incredulous.
“Yes I am. I’m a good cook,” Eden added defensively. “At least I used to be.”
Noel pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Can you make real fried chicken and a dozen or so plump biscuits?” His breath warmed her cheeks.
Eden laughed in his face. Wasn’t this the man who thought potato chips were a cholesterol nightmare? She couldn’t hide the amusement in her voice. “I think I can handle that.” The fried chicken and biscuits, not him.
She found her car keys and waved them at him. “Shall we go then?”
“I’m right behind you.”
An hour later they returned from the grocery store, Noel balancing two recycled paper sacks on his hip. “Where shall I set these down?” he asked.
Eden gestured to the kitchen counter. “How about right here? Thanks for the help. Your mama certainly raised you right.” She smiled, meaning every word. Noel had been the perfect gentleman, opening doors, and insisting on carrying the groceries.
Though he returned her smile, he seemed taken aback by the compliment. “You’re welcome, and, yes, my mother was a stickler for good manners. Believe me, if we acted up, we got knocked upside the head.”
Images of Mrs. Robinson floated through Eden’s mind as she dug through the grocery bags removing chicken parts, flour, and buttermilk. To hear Noel talk, you’d assume his mother was one tough cookie. How then could she have raised a son who most likely was involved
in something illegal? “Do you have brothers and sisters?” Eden asked, squelching unsavory thoughts.
“One of each. How about you?”
Eden removed another bottle of Pellegrino from the refrigerator, set it down, and then said, “A brother. Want water or the sweet tea we bought?”
“Sweet tea.”
The shrill ringing of the phone ended the exchange. Eden frowned. No one knew she was at Grandma Nell’s house except for her mother and Lori. Lori, she’d already spoken to twice today. Her mother normally called her cell phone.
Had she been alone, she would have ignored the persistent ringing and waited for the machine to pick up. Noel’s quizzical look thrust her into action. Eden set down the carton of tea and reached for the receiver. “Hello.”
Silence on the other end. “Hello?” she repeated.
Crackling static greeted her, followed by a man’s muffled warning. “Keep your nose out of business that don’t concern you.”
“What?” She was conscious of Noel hovering, invading her space.
The spooky voice continued, “You heard me. I’m warning you, lady, leave well enough alone. Flight 757’s crash ain’t none of your concern.” A click and the conversation ended.
Eden’s hand shook as she replaced the receiver. Sweat beaded her upper lip. She felt as if she would throw up.
“You okay?” Noel’s warm hands massaged her shoulders. He swung her around to face him.
Refusing to give in to panic, Eden gulped mouthfuls of air. “That was the strangest call.”
“Oh?” Noel arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
“The person never identified himself. Just threatened me.”
Noel poured two glasses of iced tea. He handed her one. “What did he say?”
�
��Told me to stop snooping. That Flight 757 was off limits.”
“Is this the first call you’ve gotten like this?” Noel asked cautiously.
Eden nodded. She took a seat at the kitchen table, gulped her tea and said, “No one knows I’m here, except for Lori, my mother and you….” She looked at him horrified, realizing he could easily have arranged that call.
“Eden,” Noel said, reading her mind. He sat in the chair next to her and took her hands. “Think about it. Why would I have someone call you? What would be my motive? I’m equally interested in finding out what caused the crash.”
Why indeed? She looked into Noel’s troubled green eyes, for some crazy reason believing him.
“Eden, didn’t you call Rod’s death murder? Didn’t you imply there were problems with that aircraft?”
She acknowledged his comment with a bob of her head and waited for him to go on.
“You even suspected that a high-ranking person at Pelican was the reason that plane stayed in service.”
“Yes, I know…”
Noel’s finger touched her lips, silencing her. “Eden, I’ve never made it a secret I suspected pilot error. Why would I threaten you? What difference would it make to me whether you continued your investigation or not?”
What he said made sense. Unless it was sabotage and he was the mechanic who’d worked on that plane.
“I’m a furniture designer, for Christ’s sake,” Noel continued, sensing her skepticism. “I’m in no way connected with your airline. But let’s say that someone had knowledge of an improperly serviced plane, an aircraft that shouldn’t be in the sky and then got wind that some woman was investigating the death of her fiancé, they’d feel compelled to stop her.”
“You’re right,” Eden acknowledged warily. Rising, her thoughts scattered in a thousand directions, she searched the cupboards for a big mixing bowl to prepare the biscuits.
Eden's Dream Page 5
