RETURN TO ME

by Christy Reece

  “You’ve already said that.” She blew out a sigh and looked at Noah. “I take this man, the most amazing, stubborn, and wonderful man in the world to be my husband forever and ever.”

  Noah kissed her hand. “And I take this beautiful, exasperating, and incredibly brave woman to be my wife, forever and ever.”

  Reverend Gardner spit out the remaining words, most likely in an effort to get them said before he was interrupted again. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  Noah leaned down and covered Samara’s mouth with his, stifling her laughter. The good reverend, flanked by Eden and Jordan, disappeared to a corner of the plane, leaving the newlyweds to continue their passionate kiss in private.

  Breathless, Samara pulled away. “I love you, Noah.” Noah smiled down at his new wife. “I know.”

  After a brief landing to refuel and drop off their wedding guests and minister, they took off immediately. Two hours later, the plane landed on the island of Sulan. Within twenty minutes of arriving, Samara and Noah had located their client’s mother and had a brief but informative conversation. They learned that she was not only now married to a younger man, but very much in love. And by all accounts, her new husband felt the same way.

  As LCR cases went, it was probably the shortest on record and that was fine with Samara. She and Noah had other things on their minds.

  While Samara went to their bungalow to shower, Noah stayed behind for a few minutes to chat with the newlyweds and to call their client to reassure him that his mother was fine.

  Samara slid naked between the sheets just as the door clicked open and Noah stood at the entrance of their room. The naked desire in his eyes stunned her. At last he was allowing her to see everything of him. The love she felt for this man almost overwhelmed her.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yep. Finally convinced David Mallory that his mother is indeed a woman in love.”

  “She’s not the only one.”

  Noah leaned over her. “Give me five minutes.” Trailing a finger down the side of his face, she whispered, “I’ll give you forever.”

  Desire flared, dark and sensuous, in his black eyes. “I’ll hold you to that promise.

  “Good.”

  Kissing her tenderly, he turned away and began to strip on his way to the bathroom. “Make that three minutes.”

  Exactly three minutes later, Noah returned, naked and aroused, and slid into bed. Taking her in his arms, he said softly, “Hello, wife.”

  “Hello, husband.”

  A tight, almost nervous smile played around his mouth. “This is new territory for me.”

  She could feel the tension in his body. “Why?”

  “I have no problem talking to presidents, political leaders … the most powerful people in the world. With you …” His finger tenderly traced her brow, the bridge of her nose … her bottom lip. His voice thickened. “Ah Mara, with you, I’m speechless.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away, determined to help him understand that his love was safe with her. Her hand rested on his chest, right above his heart. “This was all I ever wanted from you.”

  “Funny … until you, I didn’t even know I had one.”

  “Make love to me, Noah. Show me what you feel.”

  Lowering his head, his mouth trailed over her face, barely touching as he whispered, “I can express myself better in French.”

  Gasping at the fire igniting her blood, she arched her body toward him. “I don’t know how to speak French.”

  His mouth grazed over hers. “I’ll translate.”

  “Okay …”

  With a solemnity she’d never seen in him before, he gravely gave her the words in French and then the English translation. With each phrase, her heart pounded faster.

  “You are the most beautiful creature in the universe.”

  He punctuated each translation with a kiss.

  “You returned joy to my life.”

  “Humanity to my soul.”

  “Your courage amazes me.”

  “Your love humbles me.”

  Pulling her under him, he locked his gaze with hers as he pushed inside her. “With my body, I thee worship.”

  Her legs wrapped around his waist, she took him inside her body, glorying in the rightness and sheer beauty of the moment. With a fierce tenderness, Noah made love to her as if this were the first time he’d touched her. His hands glided over her body, tenderly caressing, trailing fire wherever he touched.

  Arching to meet every thrust, her groans of desire and need turned to gasping cries of fulfillment.

  As he gazed down at his exhausted but smiling wife, Noah knew he’d never been given a greater gift. Samara was more than he ever could have asked for, could ever deserve. Cradling her to his newly discovered heart, for the first time in his life, he knew true peace.

  Closing his eyes, he drew in a breath. There was one last issue he faced. He’d made a promise to himself and he intended to keep it. He, who’d risked his life on almost a daily basis for years, was suddenly terrified. But she’d given him so much and he had to give her this. She deserved to live as she wanted. She’d earned the opportunity and he loved her enough to make the offer. No matter what, if Samara was happy, he would be happy. And no matter what, he would keep her safe. He would never fail her again.

  “Mara”—he winced at how his voice shook—“if you’d like to be an LCR operative, I think you’d make a damn good one.”

  When her eyes brightened, the knots in his stomach twisted harder. He’d made the offer, fully intended to keep his word. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

  Pulling his head down, she kissed him softly on the lips. “Thank you for that, darling, but putting myself in danger was never a turn-on for me. What I wanted more than anything was the ability to see that I made a difference.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I’m glad you realize I could be a ‘damn good’ operative, and I would have considered it at one time … but that’s not really something I want anymore.”

  Profound relief didn’t come close to the emotion zooming through him. “Would you consider working for LCR in a different capacity?”

  “Like what?”

  “As a counselor? I usually bring in outside people but having an in-house counselor would make more sense.”

  “I would love to do counseling work for LCR.”

  Noah gazed down at the beautiful, courageous woman in his arms. Samara had not only returned his humanity to him, she’d returned his heart. He blew out a harsh breath and offered one more phrase in French. One that he’d never offered to anyone, in any language. “Je t’aime.” And then the English translation. “I love you.”

  Offering a smile, bright enough to lighten the darkest of hearts, she whispered, “I know.”

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank the following people:

  The Romance Writers of America’s Kiss of Death chapter, who were so generous in answering numerous email questions on the Clues-and-News loop, and Southern Magic, my home chapter, for their friendship and continued support.

  Danny Agan, who patiently answered my endless questions.

  Darah Lace, friend and favorite brainstormer, who asked one critical question that made all the difference.

  And thanks to fellow writers and friends Jennifer Echols, Kelly St. John, Carla Swafford, Marie Campbell, and Erin McClune for always being there when I needed them most.

  My sister Denise, my first reader for every book, and my sister Debra and my mom, who are always ready to lend a willing ear. And my husband, Jim, for the plotting suggestions that gave me much-needed comic relief.

  My fantastic editor, Kate Collins, and the entire Ballantine team, for their excitement and support of this project. And Kimberly Whalen, my incredible agent, who made me cry when she called and told me how much she loved this book.

  Three Months Later

  Last Chance Rescue
Headquarters

  Paris, France

  “You’re sure it’s her?”

  “Yeah. She doesn’t even bother to disguise her appearance.”

  Noah McCall shot from his chair and faced the window behind his desk. “I can’t believe she’d betray LCR. Nothing in her profile indicated this thread of evil inside her.”

  Gabriel Maddox stayed seated as he watched the head of LCR flounder for an answer. Seeing Noah show emotion no longer surprised him, but the changes in his boss were still fascinating. Before McCall met and married his wife, Samara, Gabe would have sworn that nothing other than God himself could have forced an honest emotion from the man. But in the months since he’d been married, Noah had done a complete about-face. Oh, he could still be a coldhearted bastard and no one dared cross him, but Gabe had heard him laugh on more than one occasion, and last month, when he announced that Samara was pregnant, damned if the man hadn’t blushed.

  “How many abductions has she been involved in?”

  “We’re sure of two,” Gabe said.

  “I could have sworn she was about the straightest arrow LCR ever hired.”

  Not a patient man by nature, Gabe knew better than to rush his boss in making a decision. Especially as hard as this one would likely be. Didn’t take a genius to know that the former LCR operative known as Shea Monroe would have to be dealt with, possibly taken out.

  This decision wouldn’t be easy for McCall. He’d hired and trained every LCR operative since its beginning. Some of the younger ones called him Pop behind his back, though it was always said with an enormous amount of respect and even affection. Noah McCall had saved every one of their worthless hides and turned them into something. They might sometimes resent the tough restrictions he placed on them, but not one of them would speak against him.

  Still, when an LCR operative went rogue, it affected everyone. Taking Shea down wouldn’t be enjoyable, but it might well be necessary.

  McCall dropped back into his chair. “Anyone talked to Ethan lately?”

  It sounded like a casual question. Gabe knew differently. Noah McCall didn’t ask casual questions. Ethan Bishop had left LCR under a dark cloud. Few people knew the full reason for his dismissal, but speculation that he’d become a loose cannon was the number-one theory. Gabe knew this speculation was correct.

  “I talked to him a few months back,” Gabe said.

  “So he doesn’t know about Shea?”

  Gabe felt a slight nudge of guilt. “Didn’t see the need to tell him. When she went missing, we assumed she disappeared on purpose. Since Cole’s death, Shea’s not been at her best. Telling Ethan wouldn’t have accomplished anything other than making him feel more like shit than he already does.”

  Noah turned his dark eyes on him and Gabe suddenly felt like an insect about to be skewered.

  “And now that we know she’s working for the organization that killed her husband, you don’t think that’s something he’d be interested in learning?”

  The answer Gabe gave was so lame, he inwardly winced as he said it. “Ethan doesn’t work for LCR any longer.”

  McCall continued that black-eyed stare. “You want me to tell him?” His voice softened, which meant only one thing—he was about to lose his temper.

  Drawing a deep breath, Gabe gave the answer he didn’t want to give. “No, I’ll tell him.” He shot his boss a narrow-eyed glare. “You know he’ll go after her, don’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because despite the evidence, I think Shea’s worth saving. There’s no one in the world better able to see Shea for what she is. If she’s turned, Ethan’ll know what he has to do. If she’s in trouble, he’ll bring her home.”

  “And if she’s turned, she might just end up killing him.”

  An odd light flickered in McCall’s eyes. “Or she might end up saving them both.”

  Gabe stood, knowing his boss wouldn’t change his mind, no matter what objections he gave. Noah McCall was of the opinion that almost everyone had something good in them. Since he’d turned around a lot of lives, Gabe wasn’t going to argue with him. But he’d seen what Shea had done to his friend. Loving a woman that much was damned dangerous. Shea had taken advantage of that love, and Ethan would never be the same man again.

  Gabe stalked out the door. Bypassing the elevator, he stomped down ten floors. Ethan didn’t even own a phone. The only way to reach him was to fly there. His gut plummeted. Few people knew about his problem with enclosed places … the fewer, the better. By the time he made it to the podunk town in the Tennessee hills where Ethan had buried himself, Gabe would be in a lousy mood. Ethan wouldn’t be happy to see him and would most likely try to throw him off his property.

  On the other hand, a good fight never hurt anyone. His mood lightened. Damned if he wasn’t suddenly looking forward to the trip after all.

  East Tennessee

  The sun blasted a welcome searing heat. Sweat poured off Ethan, splattering and dimpling the dirt like slow, fat raindrops. Wiping his hand across his brow, eyes squinted against the brightness, he gazed around at the progress he’d made. After months of doing nothing but chopping down dead trees and clearing brush, he was beginning to see a small amount of progress. Yes, it would have been simpler to hire people to do this but not nearly as satisfying. This was his land. No one would care about this property as much as he did. It was his blood and sweat that would create something out of nothing. Besides, what the hell else did he have to do?

  After throwing another tree limb onto the already full truck bed, Ethan jumped into the cab and started it up. One last load—then he’d shower and head to town for supplies. Once a month, he forced himself into town. He’d put it off three days longer than he should have. Out of coffee for the last day and a half, he felt like a rabid dog, on top of having a hell of a headache. The fast-food place a few miles from town would be his first stop. A giant cup of their strong brew would ease the pain. Hopefully, by the time he made it to the store he wouldn’t want to kill anyone.

  Under the rumble of timber slamming to the ground, he heard the quiet purr of an expensive car headed up his hill. Mercedes, maybe? Not a Jag. Whoever it was, they were lost. He was the only one who lived on this road.

  His jaw clenched. He hated that he’d have to see another person on his property, even for the short amount of time it would take to get them off. His fingers combed through a week’s worth of growth on his face, pushed through his shoulder-length hair, soaked with sweat. Nice thing about looking like a serial killer—most people who saw him turned around and ran the other way. Whoever was headed this way would soon do the same.

  A sleek silver Mercedes rounded a corner and hit the top of the hill. The sun’s glare against the windshield couldn’t disguise the identity of the dark-haired man behind the wheel.

  “Shit.” The dull pounding in Ethan’s head blasted toward jackhammer status. Gabe Maddox. Last time he’d talked to Gabe, he’d told him to go to hell. Looked as though he hadn’t taken the advice. Figured … bastard was stubborn like that.

  Ethan glowered at the other man, letting him know up front that he still didn’t want him around. “Don’t believe you were invited.”

  Unfolding his long body from the leather seat, Gabe flashed an arrogant grin that was so popular with the ladies and pissed most men off because of it. “If I waited for an invitation, I’d never see you again.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Sorry … I’m on orders.”

  “Noah sent you?” Now, that was a surprise. Last time he saw Noah McCall, the man had damned near choked him to death. Not that he hadn’t deserved it, but he figured McCall would just as soon pretend that Ethan had never existed.

  “Yeah.” Gabe jerked his head toward the house. “Mind if we talk inside?”

  “Why?”

  His eyes searching the hills warily, Gabe shrugged and headed toward the log house without Ethan’s consent. “Don’t like being
out in the open like this.”

  “Damned stupid, coming from a claustrophobic.”

  Gabe turned to glare at him but kept walking.

  Ethan threw his gloves down and stalked past Gabe into the house. His home was only a few months old, but his furniture was almost as ancient as the surrounding hills. His things served their purpose, and that was all he cared about.

  He tugged open the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. Tossing a bottle to Gabe, Ethan leaned against the counter, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swallow.

  Easing down into a rickety chair at the scarred, aged table, Gabe swallowed a mouthful of beer and gazed around. “Nice place you got here, man.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell the decorator you said so. Now, what the hell do you want?”

  Gabe took another swig of beer, set the bottle on the table, and blew out a long sigh.

  A strange tension zipped up Ethan’s spine. “Must be something major for you to take so long in answering.”

  “It’s Shea.”

  The words were quietly spoken, but the impact to his heart and mind were like bombs exploding. He turned toward the kitchen window, unwilling to allow his former friend to see the naked pain. “She dead?”

  “No. If only it were that simple.”

  Ethan turned sharply and growed. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “She’s gone sour.”

  Ethan snorted his disbelief. “Shea wouldn’t turn south. I’d believe you turned before her.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Gabe waited a beat, allowing Ethan to absorb his statement. “We’ve got positive intel.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you’ve got. Shea Monroe would never betray LCR. Not for money …” He shrugged. “Not for anything.”

  “Noah feels the same way.”

  “But you don’t.”

  Gabe didn’t flinch from Ethan’s direct gaze. “You know Shea was never my favorite person after she and Cole married.”