Sweet Reward-Last 9

by Christy Reece

  He hadn’t come back to her apartment until after midnight. Mia had been asleep but had woken when he got into bed. He’d been too damn tired to do anything but kiss her, and then she’d crawled into his arms as if she belonged there. This morning … he got hard just remembering how she’d woken him this morning. The woman was amazing on every level.

  “We never talked about last night’s op. Why’d you decide to act like one of the victims?”

  She put down her coffee cup. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I knew two men were headed my way. If there was gunfire, the chances that one of the men would freak out and start shooting at the girls were too great.”

  “You think fast on your feet.”

  She gasped and held a hand to her chest. “A compliment from Jared Livingston? Be still my heart.”

  “Don’t get used to it.”

  She gave a gurgle of laughter. “I won’t.”

  “I thought I’d go to the hospital and check on McCall. Want me to tell him anything?”

  “Give him a hug for me.”

  Jared went to his feet and reached for her at the same time. Pulling her close, he looked down at her. He liked how she teased him. Not too many people had ever attempted that. Cupping her hips in his hands, he brought her flush against his body. “There’s not a thing about me that scares you, is there?”

  A knowing smile lifted her lips. “Nope. You disappointed?”

  He lowered his head and brushed his mouth against hers … once … twice. “Just makes me want to test you.”

  “Bring it,” she challenged softly.

  Groaning under his breath, Jared covered her lips with his. Plunging his tongue deep, he tasted her: a mixture of the strawberry jam she’d had for breakfast and Mia—the sweetest taste he’d ever had in his mouth. He retreated, then thrust again and again. Mia wrapped her arms around him, her lower body molded perfectly to his. He could have her again. And no matter how many times he took her, he wanted more. He told himself it was because he was getting his fill, since this thing they had would end soon. He just hoped to hell that’s what it was, because if it was anything else … Jared wouldn’t even let himself finish the thought.

  His head lifted, and though he was breathing heavier than normal, it gratified him to hear the breathy little pants Mia made. Dropping his arms, he said, “Gotta go.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Turn ice-cold when I know you’re as hot and turned on as I am.”

  He shrugged and backed away. “Either hold it till tonight or take care of it yourself. I’ve got to go.”

  Torn between throwing their breakfast dishes at his head, along with a shout to go to hell, and crying her eyes out because she even cared, Mia did neither. She calmly sat down and took a sip of her now cold coffee. Tasted like crap, but at least it was a calm, rational action as she watched Jared, without another word, walk out the door.

  Something had scared him. And for Jared Livingston, that was probably the scariest thing of all. The man was all about self-protective barriers. Anything that dented the barricade he’d built was bound to cause bad behavior. Just because she understood him didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt; nor did it mean she wasn’t angry. But if she pushed, he’d back away completely.

  There was no future for them—she knew that. But until the end came, she wanted to be with him. If that meant putting up with some of his crap, so be it. She could give it right back to him, but she would also give him leeway. Whatever Jared had gone through in his past had colored his entire life. She knew all about coloring.

  Since brooding never solved anything, Mia quickly cleaned up the breakfast dishes and then got dressed. In two days her undercover assignment began. The goal was to get inside Philippe’s personal records. Her initial plan to convince him to show her how to run a huge charity was still valid, and she hoped to be able to use that ruse. However, judging by their conversation, he was going to want to escort her around town. That meant parties and benefits, being seen in public. Which meant she needed to do some major shopping. And she was in Paris. What better place to shop?

  Mia threw on a pair of jeans and one of her favorite shirts and applied a smattering of makeup. In this outfit, she would be met with disdain in many of the shops. But she knew Paris too well to rely on the pseudosophisticates. There were places where the salespeople treated their customers with respect, and elegance could be purchased at a bargain price.

  When she’d moved away from her parents and their way of life, Mia had decried most of the trappings that went with that upper-crust lifestyle. However, there were certain parts she missed, like getting all glitzed up and having a handsome man escort her around. The glitz part she could do. The handsome man? The only one she wanted would probably rather die than spend an elegant evening out. And the funny thing about that was, she wouldn’t want him any other way.

  Shaking her head at her ridiculous thoughts, Mia closed the door to her apartment and set off for a shopping extravaganza. The ring of her cellphone stopped her in mid-stride. She glanced down at the readout and sighed. She had known he’d call sooner or later.

  Pressing the phone to her ear, she chose the stairs over the elevator. If they got cut off, he wouldn’t be pleased.

  “Hi, Dad, how are you?”

  To the point as ever, he said, “Your mother told me you’re in Paris.”

  “That’s right.”

  “When will you be visiting us?”

  Saying she wasn’t going to visit was not an option. If she did that, he’d be on her doorstep in a matter of hours. “Not for a few weeks, Dad. I’m on a case.”

  “Mia.” His tone, heavy with forbearance and patience, was the one he’d adopted after “the incident.” And of all the ways her family treated her after what had happened, her father’s attitude was the one that hurt the most. She’d much rather have her mother’s controlled exasperation. Even Nadia’s feigned sweetness and caring were bearable to a point. Anything nice that came from her sister’s mouth was a lie, and Mia could shrug it off. But her dad’s attitude was different. He treated her as if she’d been mentally damaged by what had happened. She wasn’t damaged; she was Mia.

  And because he was her dad, she couldn’t let it float off her back like she could with her mom and sister. “Don’t start, Dad. Okay?”

  Many people used a long pause to get you to say something you didn’t mean to say. But for her father it was a clear indication that he was genuinely searching for the right words. As a diplomat, Quinton Maxwell had the smoothest and most charming of tongues. When it came to his family, he struggled. And maybe that’s why his attitude hurt the most. She’d once had a relationship with her father that the rest of her family might have envied, especially her sister. She and her dad had shared a lot of the same interests and had felt a special bond. Once she’d been released from the hospital and had begun the long road to recovery, she had noticed the change in their relationship. The chasm had only grown wider over the years.

  When he finally did speak, she suddenly wished she’d let him continue the condescending lecture he would have delivered. “I spoke with Philippe Ricard yesterday. He told me you had contacted him. I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  She didn’t have to guess why. Even though the families didn’t see each other socially, Philippe was part of their social circle. Her mom and dad would welcome him with open arms. Jared’s dark, somber face appeared in her mind. How would her family treat him? It didn’t even bear thinking about. They were used to people putting on polite masks; phoniness was a way of life for them. Unless he was on an op, Jared didn’t do phony well.

  Mia shook her head. What was the point in even thinking about that? They would never meet him, so why even consider it?

  Finally in the lobby of her apartment building, she chose her words as carefully as any diplomat: “I’ve been thinking about using some of the money Grammy left me to set up a trust for people recovering from brain s
urgeries like mine. With Philippe’s experience at running his family’s foundation, I thought he’d be the perfect one to offer advice.”

  “I’m surprised you still have the money. Nadia spent hers years ago. Besides, I would have thought your rescue business would have bled you dry by now.”

  That one sentence was loaded with a hundred unspoken paragraphs of implication. Her rescue business, as her family referred to it, had been a bone of contention from day one.

  Lying in general bothered Mia on so many levels. Lying to those she loved was even harder. However, finding those children trumped her conscience a million to one.

  So, instead of defending something she was extremely proud of, she went along with her father’s arrogant assumption and said, “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to learn about running a charity. My rescue business really isn’t working out for me. And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention it to him.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” The warmth in her father’s voice almost undid her. How long had it been since he’d not used his “careful” tone and had acted natural with her?

  “I don’t talk to Philippe often,” he continued, “but you know I would never mention what you’ve been doing. Everyone still believes you’re employed at the State Department. There’s no need for him to know any different.”

  With that assurance from him, Mia saw no need to prolong a conversation that would only continue in this vein. “Listen, Dad, I’m headed out the door for a day of shopping. I promise to come for a visit as soon as I can. Okay?”

  “Let us know before you come so we can adjust our schedules.”

  “Will do. I love you.”

  She tried not to be hurt when he hung up without saying the same thing to her. Her family was just not the demonstrative type, in words or actions. And at one time, she hadn’t been, either. That had all changed, though, and Mia never wanted to go back to the girl she’d once been. Life was way too short. She’d learned that the hard way.

  Noah McCall was one pissed-off man. Though his swarthy skin was paler than usual and his dark hair looked rumpled, his black eyes still held the same fierceness and life as before. Still, Jared had a hard time not cracking a smile at the growl in his boss’s voice. The man was not going to be an easy patient.

  Jared was equally amused by Samara McCall’s attitude with her husband. She gave as good as she got. He also saw the worry in the woman’s eyes. An inch or two over and McCall could have bled out.

  Jared stood in the corner while Samara sat at her husband’s bedside and gave him his final instructions: “I’m going home to feed Evie and check on Micah. When I get back, you better be in a better mood, Noah McCall.”

  “Come down here and put me in a better mood now.”

  Her pretty face lighting up, she leaned over and kissed him. After several seconds, she raised her head, and McCall’s expression had softened to one Jared didn’t recognize. The man growled again—not angrily this time—and said, “I love you, wife.”

  “Love you too, husband.” She dropped another kiss on his lips and then stood and backed away, laughing, when Noah tried to reach for her. “Be good and I’ll bring you some chocolates when I come back.”

  “As long as you come back with them.”

  With a beautiful smile, she whispered, “Deal.” Shooting a glance at Jared, she said, “If he tries to get out of bed, slug him for me. Okay?”

  An abrupt, rusty laugh escaped from Jared before he could stifle it. Tiny Samara McCall was a force to be reckoned with. In a way she reminded him of Mia. Though Mia was more … hell, Mia was unlike anyone he’d ever met.

  The instant Samara walked out of the room, McCall’s face returned to the hard, determined expression LCR operatives were used to seeing. “Give me an update.”

  Jared didn’t have to ask him what he meant. The op, other than Noah’s injury, had been mostly successful. He gave information on the victims first, knowing that was one of McCall’s biggest concerns. The fact that they’d all been treated and released from the hospital and the authorities were searching for their families took much of the tension off his face. The second concern had been more delicate, but Jared had handled it easily enough.

  “Mia briefed Riley on the facts,” Jared said. “When she was questioned, I doubt even a polygraph machine could have detected a lie.”

  “Riley’s damn good at that. Glad she was in town to handle the situation. Having Mia outed could’ve blown this mission to hell. Ricard needs to believe she’s still a society belle.”

  Jared agreed. Having a female operative who resembled Mia relate how one of the men had been killed had worked fine. It wasn’t exactly their preferred way of handling the situation; LCR did its best to adhere, if not to the letter of the law, at least as close as possible. McCall had a good relationship with the French authorities. No one wanted to screw that up.

  “Mia handled herself well yesterday.” So what that he said it grudgingly? At least he’d said it.

  “I’ve never doubted Mia’s abilities,” McCall said mildly. “I’m assuming you have no issues with her now, either?”

  Issues? Hell yeah, he had issues with her. But they didn’t relate to her competence on the job. Now it was all about the woman herself and all the hot things he wanted to do to that beautiful, sexy body.

  “She more than proved herself yesterday.”

  “Good. Now tell me what’s really bothering you.”

  He didn’t like that McCall could read him. The thought that someone else could see and know his thoughts, even if it was a man he trusted, made him damn uncomfortable. Still, he’d come here for a reason.

  “Did you catch the news this morning?”

  McCall grimaced. If Jared hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it, but the man actually blushed as he grumbled, “Samara took the remote away and wouldn’t let me watch.”

  Hiding his amusement, Jared continued: “Yesterday two Ricard Foundation employees died in a fire at a spa. This morning, Ricard held a press conference. Guess there wasn’t much on the news front today, because his speech was carried live on a couple of the local stations. Near the end, he was interrupted by some man who gave him more news. Seems another employee was killed in a hit-and-run.”

  McCall grunted. “Damn coincidental to have three deaths in two days.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “What’d Mia think?”

  He hadn’t discussed it with her, of course. He’d gotten distracted—first by her tears for complete strangers and then by that kiss that had turned him on so powerfully. So much for his professionalism.

  “I haven’t talked to her about it yet. Thought you might check with your connections … see if there was anything suspicious in the fire or the wreck.”

  “You think this is related to our case?”

  “Maybe—who knows? If he’s the one selling babies, he sure as hell wouldn’t mind killing a few people if they got in his way. The dead guy in Chicago proves that.”

  “Good point. I’ll have a few people snoop around. See what they know.”

  Jared nodded and headed to the door.

  “Where are you off to?”

  Once again, Jared wanted to laugh. McCall sounded jealous. Jared knew he’d be feeling the same way if he were stuck in a hospital bed.

  “Cheer up. You can get caught up on all your soaps.”

  McCall grimaced. “They took my favorite ones off.”

  As Jared walked out the door, all amusement disappeared from his face. Mia would be seeing Ricard on Wednesday. That gave him two days to prepare. If Ricard was behind the deaths of his three employees, what would he do if he found out that Mia’s intent was to destroy him? Jared had to make sure that didn’t happen.

  The dress was too glittery, much too short, and way too expensive. Mia loved it. Telling herself she could always donate it for a charity auction or sell it to a consignment shop, she convinced
herself to at least try it on. If it didn’t fit or looked horrible, she wouldn’t think any more about it. However, she already knew the dress would fit and look spectacular. And once she slipped it over her head, her assessment was confirmed.

  Turning left to right, she admired the sleek lines and the way it hugged her curves, emphasizing her best assets. And despite the fact that she was buying it to entice one man, she couldn’t wait to entice another one. What would Jared think? She shivered as she envisioned his reaction. Yes, no doubt about it … she had to have it.

  As she pulled the dress back over her head, the voices outside the dressing room caught her attention.

  “I just can’t believe she’s dead,” a young-sounding female said.

  “I know. She told me that André had mentioned marriage but he hadn’t proposed to her yet. When she was given this trip as a reward from work, she thought it might encourage him to do it sooner.”

  “I wish I could have gone to Monsieur Ricard’s memorial speech. I caught a glimpse of it on the news.”

  “It was so sad, especially when they announced that her supervisor died on his way there.”

  The women moved away but Mia stayed put. They were talking about the young couple who’d died in the fire. They’d both worked at the Ricard Foundation. The young woman had been given a free weekend at a spa by her employer and now she was dead, along with her boyfriend? And the other dead man … he had been the young woman’s supervisor? Had they found out something and Philippe had eliminated them?

  Mia shivered, no longer interested in the dress or any of the other pretty clothes she’d purchased. She had to get in touch with Jared. If Philippe had anything to do with these deaths, he wasn’t only an evil fiend selling babies, he was also a murderer of innocents. A man like that was capable of anything.

  seventeen

  “Jared? Are you here?”

  He was in the bedroom, arranging items on the bed, when she flew into the apartment, calling for him. The urgency in her voice had him running. What the hell had happened? He met her in the middle of the living room. Grabbing her arm, he gave her a sweeping glance to make sure she was okay. “What’s wrong?”