RETURN TO ME

by Christy Reece

  “Better. Send it and see what happens.”

  Samara hit send and stared at the screen. Nothing happened. Of course, he was probably doing other things. If he was the real Brian, he might be mowing the grass or doing whatever teen boys do on a Saturday morning. If he wasn’t the real Brian, she hoped he took the bait so no other young girl got caught up in his wicked net.

  “While we’re waiting, do you want to learn a few self-defense moves?”

  Samara blinked at him. He was offering to teach her? “Why?”

  “Because you need to know how to protect yourself. There’s nothing dangerous about this project, but you never know when something might happen. Like the other night. You should have been able to do some damage to me.”

  “I fooled you into thinking I was unconscious.”

  That beautiful smile lifted his perfect lips and Samara had to literally catch her breath before she expelled it on a sigh of sheer awe. Why did this man have to be so incredibly delectable and so frustratingly irritating?

  “Yeah, you fooled me. But I was doing my damnedest not to hurt you. If someone hadn’t cared about that, they could have taken you with no problem.”

  Samara stood. Pride told her to say no, she didn’t need his help. Her brothers had taught her all she needed to know. Curiosity, along with an anticipation of being close to him, forced pride away and made her say, “Okay. Show me what I should have done the other night.”

  As he rose to stand beside her, a voice inside Noah’s head cursed him for his stupidity. He’d done his dead level best to keep away from her and now he was about to get even closer? Just how masochistic could one man be?

  “Okay, first of all. Always park as close as you can to your apartment.”

  “I would have except there weren’t any spaces available.” She shot him a narrowed-eye glare. “You probably got my spot.”

  “Second, always make sure you look around when you get out of the car. If you feel even the slightest apprehension, something seems off, whatever, get back in the car.”

  “That’s kind of what Eden told me.”

  “You talked to Eden? When?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “She gave you advice on keeping safe?”

  “Just a little.”

  “Are you worried that something’s going to happen to you? Because we can change—”

  “No, I’m not worried and neither is Eden. She just wanted me to take responsibility for staying aware of my surroundings.”

  “Good advice. Now, I came at you from behind. Turn around.”

  Samara turned and Noah immediately grabbed her. Samara swung around and threw a punch at his head. He easily dodged it, but she’d surprised him. Her movements were graceful and quick. He grabbed the hand that swung at him and pulled it behind her back, careful not to hurt her.

  “That was a nice move, but now I’ve got you in a lock and could easily break your arm.”

  Noah looked down at her head, which came to just the top of his chest. Silky black hair, pulled haphazardly back into a loose ponytail, tempted him. His nose twitched at the delightfully fresh scent that he’d bet his last dollar hadn’t come from any bottle.

  She struggled against his grip and he forced his mind back to where it was supposed to be. “If you were taller, you could just throw your head back and knock me in the nose. Since you’re small, your best bet is to go limp like you did before.”

  Immediately she stopped struggling and collapsed in his arms.

  “Good. Now, what I’d do is loosen my arms, just a bit. When I do, stomp on my foot, kick me in the shin, or slam your arm or fist into my crotch. But whatever you do, when I let go, run from me as fast as you can.”

  She twisted to look up at him. “Run?”

  “Absolutely. You’re not staying around to teach this guy a lesson. Your number-one priority is to stay alive.”

  “That’s what my brothers always told me to do.”

  “Why’d you seem surprised, then?”

  “Because I doubt that’s how you trained Eden or any of the other female operatives you have.”

  “That’s not true. I taught them to stay alive. If they’re outnumbered or in danger, they run. They can always go back and fight later. Hard to do if you’re dead.”

  Samara stomped lightly on his foot with her heel and whirled away from him. Wanting to teach her a lesson of moving quicker and hitting harder, he easily grabbed her arm and spun her around. Catching her against him, his forearm nestled her breasts, and her nipples peaked immediately, pressing against his skin.

  His eyes closed, he gritted his teeth and fought the almost overwhelming need to turn his arm slightly and cup a breast in his hand. Why did her breasts fascinate him so much? They were just breasts, smaller than most, larger than some. Women everywhere had them. He’d seen and enjoyed his share, so why the hell did seeing and tasting hers seem like such a dire need?

  “Noah?”

  Her voice, soft, questioning, and tinged with desire, put a quick halt to his insanity. This could never happen. He released her quickly and stepped back. “Good job. Just be sure you move as fast as possible and leave them with so much pain, they’ll think twice about coming after you.”

  Her back stiff, the nape of her neck turned a charming bright pink. Was she embarrassed by her arousal or by the more than obvious hard-on that’d pressed against her ass?

  “Do you get turned on every time you train an operative?”

  Noah sighed. He should have known she wouldn’t let that pass. “It’s a normal male response to a beautiful woman. Nothing more.”

  Turning, her mouth lifted up in a small smile. “Well, at least you think I’m beautiful. That’s something.” She headed toward her bedroom. “Thanks for the lesson. I think I’ll take a shower.”

  Noah watched her walk away and, for the first time in a long time, resented his life and the restrictions he’d placed on himself. If ever there was a woman who could tempt him to forget his obligations, it was Samara Lyons. Another reason he needed to get this project finished and get back home. Having fantasies like these did nothing but stir up long-forgotten desires he was no longer human enough to handle. Samara deserved more than a cold-blooded, heartless bastard. Once she learned the full truth of this project, any and all attraction she had for him would be destroyed.

  He told himself it was for the best and though he knew he was right, what was best felt like shit today.

  five

  Samara emerged from her bedroom to find an empty apartment. Having no idea where Noah had gone and being too irritated with him to care, she straightened up her already tidy apartment and then plopped onto the sofa.

  Noah was seriously attracted to her. She’d been around enough men to recognize the signs. There was no denying the erection that had been digging into her butt. Normal response to an attractive woman? Maybe. But she had a feeling it was more than that. Question was, what was she going to do about it? It was pretty damned clear he intended to ignore what he felt. Which meant she could let him and nothing would come of it, or she could do her own pursuing.

  She wasn’t a shrinking violet or a wimp. Normally, when she wanted something, she went after it with every intention of winning. Did she want to win Noah? Billion-dollar question. The man was mysterious, arrogant, and worked in an area she had little knowledge of. If she did pursue something, she felt sure Noah would see it as only a temporary arrangement and everything would end when he returned to Paris. That should be what she wanted, too … if she wanted anything at all. So why did that thought leave her with such an empty feeling?

  She wasn’t one for indiscriminate affairs, having had only two serious relationships. One lasted three years during college and then Jordan, which had lasted almost a year.

  Coming on to Noah after the wedding last year was totally out of character for her. But she admitted to herself, sober or intoxicated, she wanted Noah McCall. Something about him drew her to him more than any other man she’d
ever met, including Jordan, the man she’d thought she would marry. What did that mean?

  Before she could delve too deeply into this astonishing realization, her phone rang. Samara grabbed it, eager for a distraction from her insane thoughts.

  “Hey Sam, we still on for racquetball tomorrow?”

  Well, crap. She’d forgotten to call Rachel and explain she was going out of town. “I’m sorry, Rach. I should have told you the other night. I’m headed out of town for a few days.”

  “That’s a surprise. Where’re you going?”

  “Home. Just a little homesick. You know me … need a family fix. If you need me, call on my cell, okay?” The last thing she needed was to have Rachel call her parents’ home and tell them she was supposed to be visiting. If she didn’t arrive, her entire family would be in Birmingham in a matter of hours.

  “You sure everything’s okay? You sound a little weird.”

  That’s because she was a terrible liar. “Of course everything’s fine.”

  “That guy that came to Mama Maria’s the other night … he’s not bothering you, is he?”

  Yeah, bothering the hell out of her. “No, of course not. I just haven’t seen my folks in a while. Mom’s been after me to come back for a visit. Just thought I’d go ahead and do that before I started looking for a job.”

  “Okay.” There was a world of doubt in that little word, but thankfully Rachel didn’t pursue it. “Want me to come over and water your plants?”

  “No, one of my neighbors agreed to do it, so you don’t have to worry with it.”

  “When are you coming back? The sooner you start looking for a job, the sooner you’ll have one.”

  Samara smiled at the typical Rachel wisdom. She was always the sensible one. “I know. That’ll be my first priority when I get back.”

  “Okay, well … give everyone a hug for me and I’ll talk to you when you get back.”

  “Thanks, Rach. Talk to you soon.” Samara hung up quickly before she had to lie anymore. She was scrupulously honest, and lying bit at her conscience like stinging little gnats. When this was over, she’d explain some of it to Rachel. That thought gave her little comfort. Lying was one of the few things Samara had always felt was close to unforgivable, and now here she was doing it to her best friend.

  A key turning at her door gave her warning that Noah had returned. Samara took a deep breath, still not sure what she should do about this overwhelming attraction.

  She should have known Noah had regrouped and would come at her with both barrels loaded.

  His expression grim, he sat in the chair across from her. “I think we need to call this off.”

  “What?”

  “This thing between us, it can’t happen.” He raised a hand before she could defend herself. “I know, it’s not all you. But that’s beside the point. If we don’t have our focus totally on this, something could happen. That’s the last thing I want.”

  “So you’re saying unless we pretend there’s no attraction at all, you’re going to let the opportunity to catch this creep go?”

  “Hell no, I’ll find him. Just not this way.”

  There was her decision, made for her before she could make it on her own. If she pursued anything with him, he would walk out and she’d be left wondering if she could have helped.

  “Fine. From now on, it’s strictly professional. It’s not as if you’re so gorgeous I can’t control myself.” What was one more lie today, anyway?

  The relief on his face caused a small pain in the region of her heart.

  “Good. Now, let’s see if we’ve got a response back yet.” Noah stood and moved over to the small desk. He opened the laptop, then pulled out chairs for both of them and sat down.

  Samara sat beside him, telling herself this was the decision she would have come up with on her own anyway. He’d just made it easier for her. So why did that pain in her chest hurt even more?

  She was somewhat surprised to see that not only had Brian responded, there were ten more emails from others. They definitely had their work cut out for them, determining who the real predator was … if it was any of them. Noah was right, this should be their only focus.

  Without looking up from his laptop, Noah listened as Samara counseled yet another family member. He’d been living with her for over a week and this had to be the tenth counseling session he’d heard. Not that she would call it a counseling session, but he couldn’t think of it as anything else. After a little chitchat of finding out how she was doing, she “uhuhhed” her way through each conversation, offering a soft murmur of advice from time to time, but for the most part just listening.

  The more he knew Samara, the more he realized something. People wanted to talk to her, tell her their problems. In his experience, most people who told you their problems only wanted to hear you say you agreed with them. From his vantage point, that wasn’t what Samara did. He’d heard her, more than once, call someone out on what they’d said or done. Evidently it hadn’t angered them because they’d continued to talk with her.

  And she sat there and listened, as if talking to each person about their problems was the most important thing she had to do. That took patience and skill, but it also took something else … something he had suspected all along. Being with her the last few days had confirmed the belief. Samara Lyons had a good heart. She actually cared about people, wanted to help them.

  He heard her say a soft goodbye and close her phone. He turned his thoughts back to the computer screen, irritated at his distraction. What Samara did on her own time was her own business. He had more than enough to occupy him.

  A soft sigh caught his attention. Without will or purpose, Noah found himself glancing around at her. “Problems?”

  The black silk of her hair swished around her shoulders as she shook her head. “No, just the opposite. Though John doesn’t see it that way.”

  Telling himself he didn’t need to get caught up in her family issues, he turned completely around to face her. “John, your brother?”

  “Yeah. Monica, his wife, is pregnant again.”

  “He doesn’t want it?”

  “Of course he wants it.”

  Noah’s mouth worked not to smile at her look of outrage. “So, what’s the problem?”

  “This is their third child in four years. They’re both still paying off student loans and Monica’s wanting to quit work after this baby’s born.”

  “Why’d he call you?”

  “He just needed to talk.”

  “They all seem to need to talk.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  He found himself shrugging defensively. “Nothing, just an observation. Your family calls you a lot.”

  “Of course they do. … They’re my family.” Tilting her head slightly, she asked, “Don’t you talk to yours a lot?”

  Well shit. He should have known not to get caught up in this kind of conversation. He turned back to his computer. “No.”

  He could almost feel her stare boring a hole into his back. Daring a glance back, sure enough, her eyes were full of questions. No way did he plan to answer any of them.

  “You don’t look like any of your brothers.”

  A lame tactic to change the subject, but thankfully, she allowed it.

  “Of course I don’t.”

  “Why ‘of course’?”

  “I thought, in your investigation of me, you’d have discovered that my brothers are adopted.”

  Once again, he found himself turning back to her. “No, I didn’t know that. How’d that happen?”

  Propping her bare feet upon the coffee table in front of her, she settled in as if she were relating a favorite story. “My mom and dad had tried for years to get pregnant. After a while, they decided to adopt. They got put on the list for newborns. In the meantime, they volunteered to be foster parents. One day, they got a call about twin boys who had lost their parents.”

  “Twins?”

  She grinned. “Yeah, Peter an
d Scott … not identical except in mannerisms and stubbornness.”

  “So how’d they end up with three more?”

  “All five of them were brothers. Their parents had been killed in a car accident and there were no known relatives. When Mom and Dad heard they were going to have to separate the family, they said they’d take them all.”

  “That took a lot of guts.”

  “Yeah, especially since they could barely afford two of them. But my parents both came from big families with very little money, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. They fostered them and then, eventually adopted.”

  “How’d you happen to come along?”

  “They decided to try one more time … and finally got me.”

  “Tell me about them.” The moment the words were out, he wanted to snatch them back. He didn’t need to know anything else about her family.

  She looked so delighted by the request, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to listen to a couple of stories. An hour later, he was still listening and admittedly enthralled. She loved talking about the people she cared for. She shared not only stories about her immediate family, but also about her numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins.

  What he really enjoyed was the way her face lit up as she related each event. Samara was rarely still. Her storytelling was no exception. She jumped up more than once to act out the behavior of a particular character. Despite himself, Noah felt both charmed and entertained. Not only by her obvious enjoyment of the telling, but by her deep affection for each family member.

  Having a family like that, large and loving, was a mystery to Noah. He’d been on his own for so long, his life private and hidden from everyone, even the few people who knew him well. What would it be like to have such an enormous amount of people care about you? Know so much about you?

  He shuddered at the thought. Privacy was of utmost importance to him. Having people in your life like that invited all sorts of problems. They’d want to know your business and probably have an opinion on everything. No, his solitary life was much better … quiet with no worry about what anyone else thought. He lived just the way he wanted.