False Match

by Lynne Silver

  She owned the condo and only had a few years left of mortgage payments. Her mortgage had been on auto-payment from her bank, and she’d had enough in her account to cover the payments for her year spent in Paulson’s captivity. It was entirely possible everything was just as she’d left it except for the year’s worth of dust it would be coated in. She glanced out all the windows and out the rearview mirror. The hotel parking lot was as dead as one would expect at this time of the morning. So far so good. Slowly she reversed out of the spot and eased onto the nearly empty street in front of the hotel. Another point in her favor. At this time of night, everything was so deserted, company would be immediately spotted.

  It took about ten minutes of driving to reach her old condo. When she drove past, her stomach unknotted and she realized her entire body had tensed for the whole drive. She didn’t stop on the first pass, but drove by and circled around in a driveway up the street. She was alone on the road. No headlights from other cars passed.

  She made her way back to the gate and entered the four-digit code to open it. Success. They hadn’t changed the code in more than a year. Good for her. Bad for their security. She turned the car to the right and slowly drove down to her old unit. The development wasn’t a large single building, but a collection of units with four apartments each. She planned on driving by her old first-floor apartment and checking for people.

  She drove up without a clear plan. She could use her key, but what if Paulson had someone waiting for her in the apartment? It’s how they’d found her the first time. What was she thinking coming to her old place in the middle of the night?

  It wasn’t as if she could load her car up with her old belongings without waking the neighbors. She pulled into a parking spot, turned off the ignition and leaned her forehead into the black leather steering wheel. Hysterical giggles welled up deep inside at her idiocy and she swallowed them back. She realized tears were streaming down her face. She was obviously in no condition to drive. For long minutes a flood of emotion boiled up and spilled out of her.

  She hadn’t been to her old apartment in a year. Though it had simply been a place to hang her proverbial hat, the tiny place held a lot of memories. She’d carried Luca home from the hospital to that apartment. They’d lain together on the cheap white wall-to-wall carpet and played with his little baby toys. She remembered when he’d learned to crawl and become a human wrecking ball, how many times she’d sighed and mentally calculated the replacement cost.

  When her emotions were better under control, she reversed out to turn around. Half shaking and half laughing she drove back to the hotel. Leaving the safety of the hotel had been a serious mistake, but she couldn’t regret it since it had been cathartic to see the old place.

  *

  A tiny beeping noise woke Brian up, but he didn’t bother looking at his phone. Instead he grabbed the phone and shoved it under his pillow to muffle the noise. Probably a glitch in the system of the stupid car tracker he’d installed under the rental car Jones was using. It was the middle of the bleeding night. No way the stupid doctor was driving somewhere.

  Paulson thought he was sleeping in his car, keeping an eye on the hotel to make sure Jones didn’t leave in the middle of the night. Paulson was an idiot when it came to this kind of stuff. The doctor had her young son with her and a bodyguard. There was no way he was sleeping in his car if he could sleep in the motel down the street. He’d set his alarm for five a.m. and, for extra insurance, slapped a fancy GPS car tracker on Doctor Jones’ rental car.

  The beep went off again. Bugger it. May as well look. Bleary eyed, he blinked at his phone that said the car was indeed on the move. Fuck all. Muttering curses, Brian shoved his feet into his shoes and stumbled out of the hotel to get to his car.

  With his gaze glued to his cell phone currently tracking the car’s movements, he zoomed off, hoping to catch a break.

  *

  She made it back to the hotel in record time without even speeding and snuck back into her room. Slowly, she pushed the door open and stepped inside when a hand covered her mouth and a muscular arm caught her in a vise.

  “It’s me, Jones. Don’t scream. Got it?”

  She nodded, her chest heaving and adrenaline racing through her body.

  Chase didn’t let her catch her breath and lifted her almost effortlessly with one arm and carried her to his room and shut the door behind them.

  When they were both in the dimly lit room he pushed her toward the bed and stood with his arms crossed, glaring at her.

  “Want to tell me what the hell you were doing gallivanting around town at two in the morning?”

  Um, no. “I was being an idiot. I’m so sorry.”

  “Damn straight you were being an idiot. What the hell were you thinking?”

  She bit her lower lip and eyed him.

  “Christ, you took years off my life when I woke up to piss, peeked in on you and saw the empty bed.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She couldn’t think of anything more to say.

  “You should be,” he raged. “I don’t think you get to talk right now.” He stomped a few feet toward the chair where they’d created so much magic hours before and turned on a heel before stomping back. “I’m beyond angry. I thought Paulson got you again, Samara.”

  Oh no. He had? No wonder he was so mad. He’d been scared for her. That knowledge made it easier to let him stomp and rail and yell at her. Because he was releasing his adrenaline. She got that.

  She collapsed onto the bed and let him get it out. Finally he came to a halt and knelt in front of her. “Where did you go?”

  “Didn’t you get my note?”

  And he was back up and pacing again. “Your note? You call that an explanation? It could’ve been written by anyone. Or by you under duress.”

  Oh. She hadn’t thought of that, but then again, thinking hadn’t really been on the agenda tonight.

  “What was I going to tell Luca if he woke up? Doughnuts, Jones? Really? For a certified genius, you certainly pulled one of the stupidest moves I’ve ever seen.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.” She rose off the bed and stepped toward him, but he wasn’t facing her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back. “It was stupid of me, and as soon as I got there, I realized it. I turned right around and came back here.” Some of the tension held in his tight muscles relaxed.

  “Keep talking. Were you meeting someone? An old lover?”

  “I wanted to see my old apartment. Maybe find some of my belongings. I’ve had to live without my stuff for the last year. And this hotel is a ten-minute drive away. It was more than I could resist.”

  Slowly he spun in her arms and wrapped his own around her. “You could’ve died for a pair of shoes.”

  She tightened her hug. “Not shoes, Chase. My research notes. And my mother’s jewelry and family photos. Shoes are replaceable.”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I should have known you’d go back for the irreplaceable stuff. Most people I’ve known would have whined about their clothes or video games. You’re right. You need your stuff back.”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him.

  “Tell you what. Is there a neighbor you can call or a property manager and find out what happened to your stuff.”

  A phone call. Why hadn’t she…?

  “Because you let emotions rule logic,” he said, obviously reading her mind and answering the question of how she’d been such an idiot. They held on tightly to each other, each unwilling to let the other go. A yawn split Samara’s face.

  “Come on.” Chase scooped her up easily and carried her into the room she shared with Luca.

  They arrived at the side of the bed, but he kept holding her.

  “Chase?”

  “I can’t seem to let go of you,” he whispered. “I thought you were gone. I was about to call Shep to mount a rescue.”

  She placed a gentle palm to his cheek. “Don’t let
go. Stay here. Hold me tonight.”

  He glanced at Luca, curled up, dead to the world.

  “It’s okay. We’re not going to have sex. We’ll just hold each other.” She hiccupped. “I can’t seem to let go of you either.”

  Chase smiled and gently placed her onto the bed then walked around and slid under the covers next to her. She let him spoon up close and inhaled the very maleness of his bare chest. And that was her last thought before falling into a deep slumber.

  *

  Brian squealed into the hotel parking lot to see…nothing. The rental SUV was exactly where he’d last seen it and no Doctor Jones was in sight. In fact, no one was in sight. The place was dead. As dead as he’d be if Paulson ever discovered he’d blown an opportunity to grab the doc. Shit.

  He eased into a parking spot, cut his engine and prepared to sleep in his car for the few hours remaining of the night. He hated this new world order and missed the old days when it was just him, Brad and Paulson. Now Doc was taking his orders from foreigners who thought they were better than him.

  He snorted. He didn’t need no new bosses. He didn’t get why they wanted all the enhanced soldiers anyway. Weapons and training could get the job done. But then he remembered fighting them in the clinic and how they’d killed Brad.

  He snorted again. Yeah, better park his ass here and not move until he had Jones.

  *

  Chase stretched then turned on his side, rubbing his eager morning erection on the warm body pressed against him. He blinked. He was in bed with Samara. Every detail of the night was etched in his memory, from the high of having her hands on his cock to the low of waking up and realizing she was missing.

  “Chase,” a little voice said. “Chase.”

  His lids narrowed against the sunlight pouring into the room. A tiny figure stood at the foot of the bed staring at him.

  “Luca?”

  The figure nodded.

  “Go back to sleep, buddy.” He closed his eyes, hoping to catch more shut eye, but Luca remained standing.

  “The clock says six three zero. I’m allowed to get Mommy when the clock says that. But I’ve been awake since six one three. I was very quiet and didn’t wake you up.” He sounded proud of the fact.

  Chase shifted and scooted away from Samara then propped himself on his elbows to better see Luca.

  “Why are you in bed with Mommy?”

  Shit, he wished Samara had woken up first to answer this tricky question. “I had a nightmare?”

  “Oh,” Luca said. “I get in bed with Mommy too when I have a nightmare. Except for the bad year when I wasn’t allowed to leave the kids’ room at night.”

  Ouch, he hated remembering that this sweet boy had been captured along with Samara and forced to live in Paulson’s clinic. He usually seemed so happy and adjusted, it was easy to forget he’d survived a nightmare.

  Luca placed his palms on the mattress as though he were about to hoist himself in bed with them. Chase leaned forward. “Shh, buddy. Let your mommy sleep. She’s tired.”

  Luca slid back. “I’m hungry.”

  “I’ll put on a shirt and take you down to grab some breakfast.” He wished the hotel had room service. He didn’t want Samara alone in the room, especially knowing Paulson had been looking for her, but there was no real choice without waking her up, and he didn’t want to do that either.

  Luca followed him through the doorway to his side of the hotel room and watched as Chase dug through his backpack for a t-shirt.

  “Maybe you should sleep in Mommy’s bed again tonight. I could get in too so no one gets nightmares.”

  Chase paused with the shirt covering his face, arms in the air. Luckily the cotton hid his grin. If only the kid knew how much he wanted to sleep in his mother’s bed again. He’d never thought of Luca as his key to Samara’s heart, but he wasn’t above using every advantage given to him. Besides, the kid was smart and wicked cute. Chase vowed that even if this thing with his mother went nowhere, he’d be in the boy’s life as much as Samara would let him. The poor kid had no other male role model. He needed Chase.

  Chase’s own father might have left when he was young, but he was forever returning to visit, check on homework and have a catch. He ignored the knowledge that someday Samara might meet a man to play the father role for Luca. Someone other than him.

  “Ready yet, Chase?”

  “Yeah, let me write a note so your mom doesn’t freak out when she wakes up and finds us gone.”

  “I want to write it,” Luca begged.

  “Can you write?”

  “Of course I can,” Luca said indignantly.

  Hell, he was Samara’s son. The kid was probably already smarter than him. “Here you go.” Chase handed him the pen and hotel notepad from the tiny desk. Luca climbed into the small wood-and-leather desk chair and hunched over the paper.

  After a few moments, “How do you spell ‘Chase’?” And then, “Does this look like a bagel?”

  Chase bent to inspect the note, which now had the words LUCA and his own name, spelled minus the A, but with a backward S. A mysterious not-so-round circle floated under the two names. That was all that was on the paper. Nothing about breakfast.

  “Looks great, Luca. I want to sign too, and then it’s all ready.” Luca allowed him access to the pen and page, and he quickly scrawled the message about breakfast, careful not to cover any of Luca’s hard work.

  “Now I’m ready. Go tiptoe and put this on the nightstand next to your mom.” He handed the note to Luca who tiptoed like an elephant, but made it back without waking Samara. Poor woman. He must have worn her out last night. Not used to a life with orgasms or sleeping with a man to warm her under the sheets.

  Luca slipped his hand into Chase’s as they made their way to the elevator. “Can I have the pen back?”

  “Uh, sure, but I left it in the room.”

  “Mommy only lets me write with pencil or crayons. I like pens.”

  Hoping he wouldn’t get in trouble later, he promised, “Well, you can have that one when we get back.”

  *

  Samara stirred and opened her eyes to see the red digital alarm clock numbers read 7:01. She sat straight up. She hadn’t slept this late in a very long time. The only explanation was she was worn out from worrying about her mother, and Chase’s warm body wrapped around her provided her the ability to sleep later than normal. Speaking of Chase…she glanced to her side to see an empty spot next to her. She then saw the covers kicked off Luca’s bed and no little boy curled on top.

  Her stomach somersaulted, but at that moment the door to the hotel creaked open. She placed her hand on the base of the tall nickel-plated lamp on the nightstand next to her. If anyone other than Chase and Luca walked through that door, they were getting a face-first intro to Mister Lamp.

  “Mommy, we bringed breakfast,” Luca cried as he entered the room and saw her sitting up. Her grip on the lamp base loosened and her wrist brushed a piece of paper.

  Chase noted the location of her hand. “You didn’t get our note yet? Didja?” he asked with a grin and jerked his chin toward the paper under her wrist. His hands were holding a tray full of fruit, cereal boxes and a gorgeous-looking, steaming ceramic mug of coffee. There was a lot to be said for having a bed partner. Sleeping late and breakfast in bed. Fabulous.

  Luca caught her attention. “I wrote the note, Mommy.” He crawled over her to grab the note and hold it an inch away from her eyes. Too close to actually read it. She pushed his little hand back and inspected the note. “A good note,” she pronounced. “I would’ve known just where you were.”

  “I know. And I can keep the pen. Chase said so,” he said, almost challenging her to contradict Chase’s offering.

  “That’s very nice of him.” She flattened her legs and accepted the tray Chase balanced on her legs.

  “Sugar?”

  “Huh?” She looked up to see him bending over her, offering the cup of coffee. “Oh yes, sugar, please.”

&
nbsp; Luca bounced onto the bed, nearly spilling the hot coffee, and snuggled up close to her side. “Chase, come sit here,” he said, patting the spot next to him.

  Chase threw her a questioning glance, which she returned with a small smile. He made his way around the bed and got on next to Luca.

  Luca snatched a muffin from her plate and stuck a good chunk of it in his mouth. With his little mouth occupied, the silence in the room was overwhelming. Samara felt for the remote control and turned the television to a children’s cartoon. Then she sat back and enjoyed her breakfast. It was tricky to chew and swallow around the large smile that kept threatening its way out of her mouth.

  Snuggled in bed with Chase and Luca between them, it was easy to feel a sense of a real family. It was so normal. So cozy. But it wasn’t real, and she had to remember that.

  She glanced at the top of her son’s glossy straight hair. She had to protect him from this feeling also, because the pain of when it ended would hurt him too much. And it would end. Chase wasn’t the marrying kind, even if she were his genetic match.

  Chapter Six

  Samara stared out the small oval plane window, fighting the urge to make small talk. She wasn’t good at it anyway, and her attempts would make the already awkward flight more awkward. Irrationally, she wanted to blame Chase, but she knew it wasn’t his fault. He was too darn pretty for his own good. When they’d arrived at her mother’s room this morning, the older married nurse from yesterday was gone. In her place was a young, pretty woman, just out of nursing school. She’d been dee-lighted to see Chase, and suggested Samara and Luca spend time alone with Granny, while she could keep Chase from getting too bored. To his credit, Chase had politely declined, instead taking a seat in the corner of her mother’s room.

  It didn’t stop the nurse from making a fool of herself, practically sitting on Chase’s lap. And then when they arrived at the airport, a group of private-jet flight attendants flirted with him outrageously while they’d waited for their respective planes.

  “What’s eating you?”

  She turned away from the window. “What do you mean?”