“My mother grew up in France. Her parents moved here when she was just a teenager. She taught me French from the time I could talk. Mitch never wanted to learn, but I picked it up quickly. The small school I attended … Not too many kids could speak two languages. My teachers were excited about that, so whenever I wanted to, they’d let me go to one of the foreign language classes. I picked up a couple more.”
“Just from listening?” She, who’d struggled with Spanish in high school and college, found this an amazing gift.
He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Anyway, once I got out of prison, I wanted to get as far from my past as I could. My mother loved Paris, talked about it all the time. To me, it just made sense to go there. Milo’s parents had left him a small inheritance, so we used the money to set up shop. We thought we’d just get our feet wet … see how good we could be. We figured it’d be years before we could establish ourselves and do some of the things we dreamed about.” A dry chuckle grumbled from his chest. “We got lucky and early on, by sheer accident, got involved in the rescue of the wife and daughter of one of the highest-ranking officials in France. He was grateful when we kept it secret, as he asked. He sent us some business. From there, it just snowballed.
“We started getting more and more business, which meant we needed people. And not just any people, but people who could understand our philosophy.”
“And what philosophy is that?”
“That our victims are the most important people, and our operatives are second. We do whatever it takes to bring victims home, no matter the cost.”
“I would imagine it’s hard to find people who agree totally with that philosophy.”
“We have a rigorous interview system.” His tone grew grim. “We’re rarely wrong.”
“And that’s how Milo was killed? Because you hired a bad person?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You would have liked Milo. He was Eden’s favorite.”
She snorted lightly. “Well, if you’re as charming to her as you were to me, no wonder.”
“Hey, I’m known worldwide for my charm and communication skills.”
“You’ve never used those skills on me.”
Moving quickly, Noah suddenly loomed over her. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with my communication skills a few nights ago.”
Heat flooded through her … amazing and thrilling at the same time. She’d been worried she’d never have these feelings again. With another man, she wouldn’t. But this was Noah, who not only made her feel safe and secure, he could also turn her on with a smile.
“That’s because you didn’t talk … with your mouth.”
“Oh yeah, what about when I did this?” Lowering his head, his mouth whispered along the edge of her jaw, then up to her ear, hot breath teasing … exciting.
Samara inhaled, loving his scent, a mixture of masculine musk and pure male heat. She arched her body toward him. “Kiss me.”
With a ragged groan, he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth and moved to get up.
Samara grabbed his shoulders. “No. Really kiss me.”
Want and need flared across his face, but his words denied them. “You’re not up for that and it’d be dangerous as hell to have sex in this kind of situation.”
“Isn’t that what everyone thinks you’re doing?”
“That doesn’t make it smart or right.”
“Why is it wrong?”
“Mara, nothing’s changed … we can’t …”
She pressed a finger to his mouth. “I’m not asking for promises, Noah. But I need this. I want to feel alive. To forget those men touched me, put their hands on me. I need to replace those memories with your touch.”
Black eyes, heated with an intensity she’d never seen before, stared down at her. Whispering what sounded like a tortured curse, Noah lowered his head and placed his mouth on hers.
God, he loved kissing this woman. Full sensuous lips moved under his, opened, taking his tongue, sucking on it. His hands tangled in her hair … beautiful, wild, sensuous Mara. How in the hell was he ever going to let her go and what choice did he have?
Going to his knees, he grabbed his shirt to pull it over his head, but her hands were there before his, moving under his shirt, caressing his abdomen, his chest. Her hands, soft silk, blazed a fire that spread everywhere and then shot straight to his groin.
In between kissing her softly groaning lips, he managed to pull his pants and underwear off. Her hands were on his erection before he could take another breath, stroking him from the head to the base. “Mara, baby …” When her mouth replaced her hands, Noah’s mind went blank, his pulse rocketed, and lightning streaked up his spine.
Taking her face in his hands, he pulled her away gently. She smiled up at him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking … doubtful since he hadn’t had a coherent thought since he’d kissed her.
Softly kissing and licking her healing bruises, he turned his mind away from the killing rage at the thought of what she’d gone through. This was for her. If he died tomorrow, this was the memory he wanted, his last conscious thought before he left this world. He couldn’t ask for more.
Rolling over onto his back, he pulled her on top of him, allowing her to straddle his hips. “Your back’s too tender.” Her smile as she settled on top caused a tight pain in his chest and his breath to catch in his throat.
Pulling her down to him, he played with her, licking and nipping, caressing every silken curve and soft shadow, building a need neither of them wanted to end. Poised above him, her body glided against his with an earthy sensuality that came so naturally to this beautiful woman. Like the rarest of all treasures, he explored her as if she were a precious, undiscovered jewel. Every soft sigh he cherished, every groan ingrained into his memory. When she took him inside her, it was as if he were coming home. As if in her arms, all the answers in the universe were hers to give and he greedily accepted them. Surging into her heated warmth, Noah found what he’d been searching for his entire life.
Release exploded through him. His thrusts hard and deep, she rode him through the storm and to the fiery conclusion, until peace settled around them. Pressing small kisses all over her face, his lips tasted and absorbed heaven as emotional tears fell from her eyes. Her body shuddering and quivering above him, he rolled her over, pulled from her hot sheath, and cradled her in his arms. She snuggled up against him, warm and trusting.
Noah had been making hard choices for as long as he could remember. This one should have been easier than most because more than anything, he wanted Samara safe. Refusing to ask himself why this was harder than it should be, he reached for the small hypodermic needle he’d placed beside the bed before lying down. Pressing one last tender kiss to her lips, Noah inserted the needle in her neck, deep into her skin.
“Ow. Noah that hurt. What did you …?” Before her eyes glazed over and she lost consciousness, betrayal and hurt seared him. Holding her delicate body against his, he inhaled her delicious scent, absorbed her precious warmth. No one would ever feel as right in his arms as Samara.
With a regret-filled breath, Noah pulled away and dressed her in the shirt she’d been wearing when he found her and the panties that had been torn from her. Sliding a knife from his boot, he sliced a gash in his forearm. Squeezing the oozing gap, he poured his blood onto Samara, then smeared it over her face, shirt, and bare legs. The results were so authentic looking he shuddered out a breath.
Grim determination speeding him on, he quickly bandaged his arm and dressed. Turning back to the bloody, unconscious woman on his bed, he couldn’t resist checking her pulse once more. Steady and slow, as he knew it would be. Car keys in hand, he picked Samara up and put her over his shoulder. Opening the door, he stalked out.
Yesterday he’d parked in front of the cabin in preparation. Best-case scenario, he’d get Samara inside the car and out of the way before anyone saw him. He opened the trunk, just about to deposit Samar
a inside. The sound of clumping footsteps warned him that best-case scenario wasn’t happening today.
“Damn, bro, you already did it? I didn’t even hear her scream.”
Noah turned and gave him the satisfied smile of a deadly killer. “She hardly put up a fuss … about the least satisfying kill I ever had.”
Before Noah could stop him, Mitch grabbed a handful of Samara’s hair and pulled her head up. With blood smeared all over her face, plus all the green and blue bruises, she looked dead.
“Shit. You did a number on the bitch.” Mitch sounded as proud as a father who’d just watched his son pitch a no-hitter. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
Noah shrugged and turned, wanting to get Samara in the trunk before Mitch could take a closer look. He placed her as gently as he could inside, then slammed the trunk shut. Turning back to his brother, he smiled. “Killing’s easy. It’s the keeping them alive till you’re done with them that’s hard.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Mitch looked at the car. “She ever tell you anything?”
“Not a lot. You were right, she was hired by a man named Noah … didn’t know his last name though. She was just supposed to sit in the bar and pretend to be meeting someone … Brady or something like that.”
“Brian,” Mitch supplied.
Noah shrugged. “Anyway … that’s all she knew.”
“Damn, I wish you could have gotten more.”
“I told her I’d let her go if she gave me something. Bitch didn’t know anything.”
Mitch shrugged. “Guess you’re right. Where’re you taking her?”
“Up the road. There’s a spot where some black bears have been spotted. I figured by the time anyone finds her, won’t be much left.”
Ignoring the almost admiring look on his brother’s face, Noah jumped in the car and sped away, hoping some of the gravel from his spinning tires slapped Mitch in the face. He wouldn’t take an easy breath until he could get to the drop-off point. He refused to think about the betrayal in Samara’s eyes when she realized what he’d done. She would get over hurt feelings, but he was damned sure he’d never get over anything happening to her. With Samara safe, what lay ahead for him would be much easier.
Something soft touched Samara’s cheek. She blinked heavy-lidded eyes open, groggy and disoriented. Nothing registered for several seconds other than the gentle touch of a moist cloth moving over her face and neck.
“I think she’s coming out of it.”
The voice, husky and cultured, brought her eyes open wide. “Eden, what are you doing here?”
Brilliant tears glistening in her eyes, the beautiful blonde smiled down at Samara. Shaking her head at this bizarre dream, Samara tried to lift her head.
“Stay still, sweetie. I don’t think Noah gave you enough to have the headache the drug usually causes, but with your injuries, you never know.”
Noah. He had drugged her.
A harsh voice grumbled close by. “At least I know I’m not going to have to kill him. … Just maiming him will be enough.”
Twisting her head, she looked at the man in the front passenger seat. “Jordan?”
His mouth kicked up in a smile that had once caused her heart to pound faster. Now it only made her smile back at him.
“Jordan,” Eden said, “we’ve talked about this. It’s as much my fault as it is Noah’s for bringing Samara in on this.”
“That may be the case, but you know I won’t touch one inch of your lovely skin in anger. Noah, on the other hand, I wouldn’t mind putting a few dents in his tough hide. Besides, he kept some vital information from you, too.”
Samara waved her hand to get their attention. “Excuse me, but I believe you’re forgetting something here. I agreed to do this. No one coerced me.”
Eden shook her head. “You didn’t know what you were getting into. We should never have involved a civilian in—”
Samara pushed herself forward and sat up. A small headache throbbed behind her eyes but she ignored it. With her myriad of other aches, it was inconsequential. Having Noah blamed for all of this was something she refused to allow. “No one could have predicted what was going to happen. Instead of blaming him, we need to figure out how we’re going to get him and those girls out of there.”
Eden and Jordan shared an amused smile, and Eden remarked, “You’ve got spunk, you know that?”
Exhausted and feeling not the least bit spunky, she collapsed back onto the seat. “Yeah, it’s been mentioned a time or two.” She took a deep breath to regain her focus, worry suddenly hammering at her. Noah had gone back to Mitchell’s hideout. Taking in both Jordan’s and Eden’s glances, she asked, “What’s our plan?”
Jordan raised a dark brow. “Our plan is to get you to a safe place. Then we’ll go back and wait for the truck to arrive.”
“I need to help.”
Eden shook her head, looking even more arrogant than Jordan. “You’ve done enough. You need to rest and heal. We’ll take care of Mitchell Stoddard and his people and we’ll get the girls.”
“What about Noah?”
“Noah can take care of himself.”
Samara waved a hand in aggravation. “I know he can, Jordan. But what’s he going to do to get Bennett?”
Jordan turned to look back out the window. “He’s got a plan.”
Samara’s eyes filled with tears. “What is he planning?”
Eden placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. You just rest and get well.”
“Stop trying to protect me, Eden. I deserve to know what he’s going to do.”
Eden gave her an assessing stare as if trying to determine if she was strong enough to take the truth. Samara felt as if her stomach and heart crashed against each other as they sped to the ground. The plan was obviously risky or else Eden wouldn’t be so reticent.
“Tell me.”
Eden nodded. “You’re right, you do deserve to know.” She began the intricate details of Noah’s plan to take down not only Mitchell and his men and rescue the girls, but to also apprehend Bennett, once and for all.
By the time Eden had finished, Samara was in a tail-spin of worry. Noah might be the only man who could realistically do this particular job, but if it turned sour, it would be a suicide mission. Noah had known that. He’d made love to her knowing that it was possibly the last time they would ever see each other.
Tears blurring her eyes, she glanced down at her clenched hands. Breath and heart stopped. “Why do I have blood all over me?”
“It’s not yours. … It’s Noah’s,” Jordan said.
She raised horrified eyes to Eden. “What?”
Shooting an irritated look at her husband, Eden reassured her, “He probably just cut himself a little and put the blood on you to make it look authentic to Mitchell. I promise you, Noah is fine.”
She didn’t add the words, but they hung in the air … for right now.
Emotions cracked, split, and then shattered. Everything came tumbling, crumpling in on her … all that had happened since the day of her abduction, the beatings, watching someone’s head explode, her near rape. Now, with the possibility she’d never see Noah again … that he might not survive … it was more than she could assimilate and cope with. With a harsh sob that came from deep inside, she threw herself into Eden’s arms and crashed.
Noah slammed the car door and headed straight to his cabin. He didn’t want to see or talk to Mitch until he had his head back on straight. Leaving a bruised and battered Samara under a tree in the designated drop-off point had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Seeing her lying there, fragile and vulnerable, ate at his gut with single-minded acidity. If he heard one more vile comment or was forced to issue one more disparaging remark against her to maintain his cover, he would lose it.
Lying across the bed that only an hour ago he’d shared with Samara, he inhaled the lingering sweetness of her natural fragrance. Their lovemaking the first tim
e had been purely sexual, intense and passionate, but without the intensity of deep feelings. Today it had been that … purely lovemaking. A wry grimace tugged at his mouth. He was thirty-two years old and had just made love for the first time today.
Not only had he made love to her, he’d shared things he had never shared with another person, other than his friend and mentor, Milo. Telling her about his experience in prison just seemed right. She needed to realize that no matter how badly battered and violated she’d been, she had a choice to be either victim or survivor. His Mara was a survivor.
Last Chance Rescue had been created with one primary goal, to rescue the innocent. Saving victims was his life, his reason for existence. Doing anything else was unimaginable, even if that precluded having normal relationships. Sharing his life with anyone had never been a consideration or a temptation, until Samara. Long ago, he’d learned to hold himself back from people. Allowing feelings only invited heartache. Noah had more than enough of that for a lifetime.
The regrets in his life were many and varied, but involving Samara in this project was one of the greatest. Delicate and fragile, she wasn’t meant for covert operations or secrecy, and sure as hell didn’t need to be exposed to the scum of the earth, which is what happened.
He would do whatever he had to do to protect Samara and that meant staying away from her. She was purity and goodness and destined for a good life … something he couldn’t offer.
When he returned home, he’d send her some money. She’d be angry at first, but he’d make sure she realized that she’d worked for it, just like any other operative. Maybe she could buy herself some new furniture and go on a long trip. God knew she’d need the recovery time.
The blast of a gun jerked Noah out of his thoughts. He shot out of bed and out of the cabin in seconds. Who the hell had Mitch killed now?
thirteen
Noah skidded to a stop at the bottom of the steps. One of Mitch’s men lay lifeless on the ground. Mitch stood over him, gun in hand.
“What the hell’s going on?” Noah snapped.
RETURN TO ME Page 16
