RETURN TO ME

by Christy Reece

“You look like crap.”

  Noah looked up from his desk as Eden stalked into his office, determination stamped on her face. Two weeks of frozen indecision had done nothing but make him more miserable. Now, if he wasn’t mistaken, Eden had come to administer a lecture.

  “Thank you, Eden. Is there another reason for your presence in my office other than to give me an update on my looks?”

  “I talked to Samara last night.”

  “How is she?”

  She crossed the room at such a leisurely pace, he knew she was doing it only to irritate him. He held his temper. When she sat in the chair in front of his desk, crossed her legs, and examined her manicure, he lost it. “Dammit, how is she?”

  An arrogantly arched brow was her only acknowledgment of his anger. “Hurt. Lonely. Confused. You know, the typical things one feels with a broken heart.”

  He ignored the jab. “She say anything about nightmares? Is she sleeping okay? Are her bruises bothering—” He broke off when she waved her hand at him. “What?”

  “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

  “Drop it, Eden.”

  “You know, Noah, I don’t know about your past, other than what you’ve told me, but I figure it was as bad as mine. Maybe worse.”

  When he didn’t reply, she blew out an exasperated sigh and continued, “You forced me to face my past, and I’m profoundly grateful you did, since I wouldn’t have Jordan.”

  “Is there a point to this?”

  “I know you believe there’s an afterlife and I truly hope there is, because this one can suck for a lot of people, but just because you believe there’s a better one waiting, does that preclude being happy in this one?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Noah. There’s a woman in Birmingham, Alabama, who loves you with every fiber of her being. She’s beautiful, smart, talented, and so damned sweet, she makes my teeth hurt, but I can’t help but like her. Why don’t you—”

  Dammit, he didn’t need this. “Drop it or get out.”

  “No, I won’t drop it. You’ve interfered in every person’s life at LCR and it’s about damn time someone interfered in yours. Why can’t you have a future with Samara?”

  “She wants to be an operative.”

  “So?”

  “Her life would be in danger.”

  “So basically you’re making the decision for her? Have you even asked her?”

  “No.”

  “Noah, I think you’re seeing a very narrowed view of LCR. Samara is a trained counselor. Almost every operative you bring in requires some sort of counseling. … God knows I did. Why couldn’t you ask her to work with LCR in that capacity?”

  He stared hard at her. “Do you think she’d be happy with that?”

  “Don’t you think you owe her an opportunity to make a choice?”

  That’s what he’d been agonizing over for days. Give her a choice. What if she chose to be an operative? He wouldn’t know until he asked. Whatever she chose, he had to give her the opportunity. And he had to live with the consequences.

  Another agony throbbed at him, less dangerous, but still an important issue. “She wants children.”

  Eden’s arched brows told him he’d shocked her. “And that’s a problem … why?”

  “I had a vasectomy years ago.”

  “So? Those things are reversible.”

  “You’ve seen what’s in my blood … what I came from. What if—”

  The woman in front of him jumped to her feet and Noah knew he was in for the lecture of his life. Rarely had he seen the cool, composed Eden as furious as she appeared to be now.

  “You know my mother, know what kind of person she is. … Do you think I’m like her, at all?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why in the hell would you assume your children would be bad?” Eden wrapped her arms around herself and Noah felt lower than a slug when he saw the tears sparkling in her eyes. He knew what she was going to say and she had every right to be furious with him.

  “I would love to be able to give life to a child. Having Jordan’s baby would be the fulfillment of all my dreams, but that will never happen. But if it were possible, my child would have the best of Jordan and me. My mother would have no impact. For you to assume your child would be tainted is stupid, arrogant, and excuse me, downright backward.”

  Something loosened inside him as her words dented, then penetrated, his long-held beliefs. His father had had two sons. The one he’d favored, he trained to be just like him. Noah knew he was more like his mother, a woman who’d been everything good. Though he was far from perfect, he also knew he had a lot more in common with his mother than with his father.

  “I’m sorry, Eden. I didn’t mean to remind you of your pain.”

  Tears still glistened in her eyes, but her smile was one of pure happiness. “Having Jordan is more than I ever thought I’d have. I’m not angry about my past, I’m angry at you for being so stupid.”

  Swallowing a snort of surprised laughter, Noah nodded. “You’re right.” He took a deep, cleansing breath and nodded at the thin file she’d put on his desk. “Tell me about the Mallory case.”

  Her eyes narrowed into a hard glare, but she did as he asked.

  Noah listened with one ear, as his mind thrummed and processed questions and possibilities.

  A hand waved in front of Noah’s face. “All this rescue stuff boring you?”

  Noah shook his head. “I heard every word you said. David Mallory believes his mother was forced to go to this, what did he call it … hedonistic island … and wants LCR to find her and rescue her, if need be.”

  “Yes. Jordan and I believe Mrs. Mallory went willingly.”

  “The son know that?”

  “Yes. He says if that’s so, then okay, he’ll try to accept it.” She laughed. “I think his biggest problem is knowing his mother is having sex at what he called her advanced age.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Fifty-five.” Eden rolled her eyes. “Anyway, we’ll go in, play the married couple, which we do really well anyway. If Mrs. Mallory seems distressed at all, we’ll act, if not, we’ll have a few fun days and come back home.”

  “Samara’s good at reading people, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, why—” A delighted smile spread across her face. “She’s excellent at figuring out nuances and reading between the lines.”

  Noah stood and walked toward the door. “Have Angela change your information over to mine and Samara’s.”

  “It’s a married-only island. You’ll have to show your marriage license as proof.”

  “That won’t be a problem.” Knowledge and acceptance spread through him like warm, silken honey.

  Eden gave a whoop of delighted laughter as he closed the door on her.

  He headed back to his desk to clear up some loose ends while his mind wrangled with his weighty problem. How did one convince a woman to marry him without revealing how desperate he was for that to take place?

  twenty-three

  “Sam, you’ve barely eaten anything. Don’t you like Mexican anymore?”

  Samara swirled a chip into the salsa in front of her without any intention of eating it. “Just not in the mood for it tonight.”

  “This is the first time you’ve been at Mama’s in forever. I even told Allie and Julie we weren’t meeting because I thought we could do a girl chat thing like we used to. You’ve been out of touch for so long, I don’t feel I know you and now that we’re together, I can’t get two words out of you.”

  “I’m sorry, Rach. I haven’t been much of a friend lately.”

  Rachel touched her arm. “You’ll always be my friend, Sam. You know that. But there’s something going on with you. It’s like there’s no light in you anymore.”

  Samara looked down at her plate of nachos. Rachel’s words rang so true. She did feel as though the light was gone from her life and she hated that fee
ling. She wasn’t a weepy, woe-is-me kind of person. If something bothered her, she either fixed it or said to hell with it. She didn’t dwell on it and mope. Since Noah had left, that’s exactly what she’d done.

  She’d even gone to her parents right after Noah left. She couldn’t return to her house for another week and didn’t want to stay in a hotel. She could have stayed with Rachel, but since her friend didn’t know what had happened, needing a place to stay would have been hard to explain.

  Besides, as vulnerable and emotional as she’d been, she had hoped some TLC from her family would help. It had a little. Being the baby of the family always brought out everyone’s protective instincts and though she usually resisted their smothering, she had needed it for a few days.

  Though none of them knew what she had gone through and never would, they all seemed to sense her need. They knew about her relationship with Noah Stoddard, rather the lack of a relationship. Last Christmas, she’d spilled her guts to her mother … giving only select information, of course. Her entire family knew she’d fallen in love with a man and for some reason it hadn’t worked out.

  Going back home this time, she hadn’t mentioned Noah and neither had they. Which was fortunate, since she was pretty sure she’d turn into a sobbing mess. Having her family worry about her more than they already did wasn’t something she wanted. Just having their love and support was enough.

  After a few days, she realized it was time to go home. No matter how much babying her family gave her, she wasn’t a baby. It was time for her to go home and be strong. … She hoped to hell that strength hit her soon.

  She kept thinking Noah would come back or at least call her. Nothing. No calls, no messages … not even an email. Though today, she’d received an incredibly odd email from Eden.

  Rachel’s voice penetrated her painful musings. “Sam, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Samara blurted out the truth. “I found the man I want to marry.”

  “Oh heavens, not again. What commercial did you see this time?”

  “No commercial.”

  “Well then, a book, movie … what?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, I’ll play along. What wonderful qualities does he have?”

  Swallowing a laughing sob, Samara described the love of her life. “He’s stubborn, rude, quite often a jerk, arrogant, frustrating, heroic, incredibly gorgeous … the most amazing man … and he’s …” Samara’s eyes widened, her body froze with shock. “Oh my …”

  “What?”

  “He’s staring straight at me.”

  Rachel looked around. “Who?”

  “The man I want to marry.”

  “You mean he’s real?”

  Unable to take her eyes off the man walking slowly toward her, Samara answered, “As real as they get.”

  Noah stood before her, looking more wonderful, more handsome, than she remembered. Why he was here suddenly didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here.

  Black eyes gleamed down at her with a mixture of tenderness, possessiveness, and perhaps a hint of nervousness. “Mind if I sit down?”

  “Not at all,” Rachel said.

  He held his hand out to Rachel. “Noah Stoddard and you’re Rachel Enders. Mara’s told me a lot about you.”

  Rachel grinned at them both. “Well, I think she was just about to tell me about you. But I’ve got a feeling she wants to have a little chat with you.” Rachel stood and kissed Samara on the cheek. “Call me.” She turned to Noah. “It was nice to meet you, Noah. I hope to see you again soon.”

  Samara couldn’t take her eyes from Noah. He looked different. Younger somehow. Her heartbeat picked up. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need your help.”

  Optimism and her heart raced together to splatter on the floor. Not again. “For what?”

  “I need you for a job.”

  Fighting a hurt so large she could barely breathe, Samara grabbed her purse and stood. “Thanks, but I’m no longer in that line of work.”

  “Mara … please.”

  His voice, more than his words, stopped her. He sounded shaky and almost desperate. Eden’s strange, obscure email flashed into her mind and began to make sense. Don’t let pride blind you to what’s in front of you.

  She dropped back to her seat. “What’s the job?”

  A tiny flicker of what looked like relief flashed across his face. “We’ve been hired to find a woman at a resort. Her son thinks she was coerced into going. We’re to locate her and determine if she needs help. If she does, we’ll get her out. If not, we’ll let her son know she’s okay.”

  “And that’s it?”

  Noah nodded.

  “Why can’t another LCR operative do this?”

  “It requires certain qualifications.”

  “Such as …?”

  “It’s a resort for married people only.”

  Emotions whipped like small whirling tornadoes inside her. She bit her trembling lips. “No one else wanted to pretend to be married to you?”

  His eyes locked with hers, he shook his head slowly. “Can’t be a pretend marriage. They check the records.”

  LCR could produce a fake marriage license within minutes. Noah knew she knew this and she could see he was waiting for her to call his bluff. She wouldn’t. This man, in his own oddly incredible, wonderful way, was asking her to marry him and she was going to do it.

  “Well, I guess that doesn’t leave us much choice, does it?”

  “No. Are you ready to go?”

  “To my house?”

  “The airport. I’ve got a plane waiting to take us to the island.”

  “What about my clothes … and don’t we have to get married before we get there?”

  “I’ve got clothes for you already and we’ll get married on the plane.”

  “On the plane?”

  “Yes.” His eyes gleamed. “Every second counts.”

  Samara grabbed her purse and held out her hand. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Things had gone better than he could have expected. The smile playing around Samara’s beautiful mouth and the brightness and joy in her eyes told him more than any words. Though spontaneity hadn’t been part of his life since he was a kid, he had to admit he was enjoying it, too. Was it the most romantic way to get a woman to marry him? No, but romance would have to wait. The most important thing was to get them married, then he’d work on the other. A desperate man often resorted to desperate measures and Noah had realized that when it came to Samara, he had passed the desperation point.

  The moment they stepped onto the plane and the door slammed shut, Noah let go of the massive tension he’d been holding inside. At any moment on the drive over, he’d expected her to tell him to stop and demand an explanation. He wasn’t prepared for that yet. At some point, he would explain his actions. After they exchanged vows and he knew she was his, then they’d talk.

  He held her hand tight as he pulled her down the narrow aisleway of the plane. “Come with me. I have something for you.”

  Twisting and turning to check out the jet, she followed him into the small bedroom. “Uh, don’t you think we should get married first?”

  Noah swallowed a laugh. “As cute as you look in your jeans and T-shirt, I thought you might want to wear something else.” He opened a closet and withdrew a sequined white satin dress. The moment he had seen it, he knew it was made for Samara.

  “Oh, Noah.”

  Her sighing words told him she agreed.

  “There are things in the bathroom you might need … girlie things Eden said a bride would want.”

  She peeked inside and gave an excited laugh. A smiling Eden stood in the small room, dressed in a short silver dress, holding a bouquet of flowers for the bride. Turning, her face beaming with delight, Samara whispered, “Give me half an hour and I’ll be beautiful for you.”

  Pulling her to him, he growled against her mouth, “You’re beautiful just the way you are.”
He kissed her hard and then pulled away. “Eden said you’d want this …”

  Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him softly. “She was right.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Noah, dressed in a black tuxedo, stood beside the most breathtaking woman in the world. The dress fit perfectly, molding and caressing every curve. She’d left her hair down, and the contrast between her midnight fall of hair and the stark white brilliance of her dress stunned him into speechlessness.

  Thankfully the minister he’d brought with him spoke English. Having to translate, when he could barely remember his name, would have been impossible.

  Jordan stood beside Noah, beaming at them both as if he were a proud parent. Eden stood beside Samara and surreptitiously dabbed at her wet eyes.

  Reverend Jerome Gardner stood before them. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered in the sight of God to join this man and woman in holy—”

  Samara raised her hand to stop him. Noah’s heart stuttered.

  “You know we’re going to have to do this again in front of my family, don’t you?”

  Noah sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

  She smiled and then nodded to the minister to continue.

  Looking a little bemused, he began again. He’d gotten to the point of “Do you, Samara Lyons” when she raised her hand again. This time a frown furrowed her brow as though she was uncomfortable.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She leaned forward and whispered, “I want babies … your babies.”

  It was all he could do not to grab her and run straight to the bedroom. Instead he whispered, “Okay.”

  She still didn’t look satisfied.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re going to have to do something about fixing that.”

  “I’ve already made arrangements, sweetheart.”

  She straightened. “Really?” She looked down at his crotch. “Will it hurt?”

  Reverend Gardner sputtered and blushed a purple red. Both Eden and Jordan choked back laughter.

  Swallowing his own laughter, Noah said, “We’ll talk about it tonight.”

  “Okay.” She turned back to the minister and said, “Sorry … you were saying?”

  “Yes, uh …” The poor man swallowed and began again, “Do you, Samara Lyons, take Noah McCall to be your—”