Return to Me (5 page)

She hadn’t loved Jordan as much as she thought she had. A woman didn’t just give up the man she loved without a fight. And she certainly didn’t stand up as the maid of honor at the wedding.

Even so, she’d been a bit bruised from his rejection. Moving from Virginia to Alabama had been a wise move, though her family hadn’t seen it that way. Once her relationship ended with Jordan, they’d wanted to do what they’d always done with the baby of the family, which was to protect and coddle her. Samara loved her family beyond measure, but their suffocating compassion had only made her heartache worse.

Rachel Enders, her friend since the first grade, had moved to Birmingham right after college. When Rachel had asked her for the zillionth time to try Birmingham, Samara finally took her up on her invitation.

Starting all over again in a new city with no job was both scary and exciting. She had enough money saved up to wait another month or so before she had to find a job. After this thing with Noah was over, she’d have to start looking in earnest.

Being a social worker was not only a challenging and enormously fulfilling profession, Samara also knew she was quite good at it. Her references were impeccable and she’d already put out several feelers around the city. When the time came for her to go back to work, she didn’t anticipate too much of a problem finding a job.

She turned off the vacuum and surveyed her sparkling apartment. It wasn’t fancy but comfortable enough. Other than furniture essentials and her more personal belongings such as photographs, she’d put most of her stuff in storage. The housing market was less expensive here and she’d sold her little house in Virginia for a decent profit. Looking for a house would have to be put on hold until this project was over.

A stomach rumble reminded her she’d had only coffee this morning before she set to work. Returning her vacuum cleaner to the hall closest, she headed to the kitchen. Opening her refrigerator, she made a dismal discovery. … She needed to go to the grocery store. Not one to procrastinate, Samara grabbed a piece of cheese from the deli drawer, stopped at her kitchen table for an apple, and munched her way to the bedroom.

Tossing the apple core in the garbage can, she shimmied out of her shorts and top, turned the shower spray on high, and jumped in. As the water hit her face, she went over the things she needed to get at the store. She opened her eyes and then jumped back as the spray almost blinded her. What kind of food did Noah like? She knew so little about him other than he lived in France. Did he grow up there? His accent was normal, without a hint of Parisian to it. In fact, he didn’t seem to have any kind of accent at all.

She shook her head and finished her shower. Heck of a time to remember she knew almost nothing about the man who would basically move in with her today. She pulled her long thick hair into a ponytail, put on a minimum of makeup, dressed in her usual jeans and T-shirt, and headed to her phone. There was one person who knew Noah better than anyone. … Why not ask her?

Eden answered on the first ring. “Don’t blame me for the acts of my boss.”

Settling into a chair beside her bed, Samara giggled. Eden never said hello like a normal person; she thought it was a waste of valuable time. She didn’t bother asking how Eden knew Noah was here. More than likely, Eden and Jordan had been in this from the beginning. “I’m not complaining, just need to know what he likes to eat.”

“Huh?” The ¨berelegant Eden sounded inelegantly confused.

“I’m going to the grocery store. I thought you might know what he likes to eat.”

“Now that, my sweet, is something I know nothing about. I’ve seen him eat, know he’s not opposed to it, but other than that, I’ve no clue. We’ve never discussed our favorite dishes.”

“You’ve known him for years.”

“You’ll soon learn that knowing him for years doesn’t mean knowing him. The man created
mysterious
.”

If anyone had asked her, she would have said that if Noah had created anything, it would have been
sexy, maddening
, or
arrogant
. Though
mysterious
suited him, too.

“Okay, so what can you tell me about him?”

“That he’d die before he let anything happen to you.”

Something tugged at her heart. Noah was probably the most unemotional man she’d ever met, but Eden’s words rang true. He might not react as a normal man to most things, but when it came to protecting her, she never doubted his abilities.

“I know he would, but he said it wouldn’t be dangerous.”

“It won’t be, but stay alert. Be aware of your surroundings. The air around you. Sounds … insects not chirping … anything at all that feels off. You can feel danger if you’re on your toes. There’ll be several around to protect you, but remember to always be responsible for yourself.”

Samara took the advice to heart. Eden was a trained LCR operative. If anyone knew how to protect herself, Eden did.

“Thanks, that’s good advice. So, how’s our man doing?” She knew the other woman wouldn’t take affront at this. Eden had Jordan’s heart wrapped up tight.

“Marvelous, as always.”

“Just remember I taught him everything he knows.”

“I’ll be eternally grateful,” came the amused reply.

Samara could only smile at the confidence Eden exuded. The woman was impossible to offend.

“Give him a kiss for me.”

“Will do and remember, be aware.”

Samara hung the phone up and took a deep breath. She still didn’t know what to buy at the grocery store. Well tough. He was in America now and could just adjust his eating habits accordingly.

Grabbing her purse and keys from her dresser, she checked her appearance one more time. Grimacing at her plain but tidy appearance, she scurried to the door. She’d worry about her looks after she filled her fridge. Opening the front door, she let out a little squeak. Noah McCall stood before her.

She looked better today. Not as shell-shocked. Fresh and innocent but with a sweet, unaware earthiness that he found sexy as hell. Noah slammed a mental door shut. Those kinds of thoughts would get him in a world of trouble and Samara in a world of hurt. The cold, moist bag in his hand reminded him of why he was here. He shoved the bag toward her. “Here. The ice cream’s melting.”

She looked somewhat dumbfounded as Noah nudged her back into her apartment. “I figured you might need a few things, so I went to the store.”

A little crease appeared on her smooth forehead as she peeked inside the grocery bag. “I’ll unload this.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

Noah set another bag on the coffee table and took out the half-empty wrapper from his breakfast. He heard a gasp and turned, the chocolate Zinger hanging from his mouth like a fat cigar.

“Noah McCall, you’re a junk food junkie!” She sounded both astounded and delighted.

Swallowing half the cake in one gulp, he mumbled, “Am not.”

She grinned. “Are too.” Then she turned and headed back to the kitchen.

Noah looked down at the bag holding all of his favorites. He’d been discovered. Eating junk food once a week was a habit he’d developed when he got out of prison. An “in your face” to the other six days where self-discipline and self-denial were all he knew. Seeing the Americanized version of many of his favorites at the grocery store, along with some things he remembered as a kid, had been an irresistible temptation.

Noah downed his Zinger, picked up the bag, and headed to the kitchen. A cold glass of milk was called for. He stopped when he saw Samara was holding not only his chocolate milk, but also his gallon of rocky road ice cream.

“Mara, put that ice cream away before it melts.”

Beaming at him as if she knew something exciting, she deposited the ice cream in her freezer. Without his asking, she poured a large glass of chocolate milk and handed it to him.

“How’d you know?”

“It’s what I would want.”

Noah pulled out another Zinger and handed it to her. “I think we’ll work well together.”

Samara giggled and accepted her treat. Unwrapping it, she took a big bite and licked the white cream off her lips. A surge of lust slammed into his gut, surprising and irritating the hell out of him.

Noah turned and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, ignoring the feeling. He might allow himself to forget self-denial once a week with food, but no way did that include having any kind of attraction for Samara. Allowing her any closer would be stupid. For him, stupid got left behind years ago.

“I still need to go to the store and get some real food,” Samara said.

Noah shook his head. “No need. I’m having some stuff delivered.”

She pulled out a package of Oreos and a bag of peanut M&Ms from the grocery bag and stored them in a cabinet. “Hopefully something that’s not going to put us in a sugar coma?”

“Yep, all the vitamins and nutrients a growing boy and girl need. … Even your mother would approve.”

“You know about my mother?”

“That’s she a nutritionist? Yeah.”

“Did you get this from Jordan or have me investigated?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I needed to know you before I asked you to do this.”

“Just how much do you know?”

“Enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“To know you can do this job.”

“How did investigating my background tell you I could do it?”

“It didn’t … just gave me an idea of who you were.”

“So, don’t I get to know something about you, since we’ll be working together?”

He would share, up to a point. “Like what?”

Her eyes narrowing, she stared hard for a few seconds. For someone who was a master at reading people, Samara was one of the few who could surprise him. Though her expressive face revealed her thoughts most of the time, a couple of times last night she’d caught him off guard. He waited, surprisingly tense, to see what she wanted to know about him.

“What was the name of your dog when you were growing up?”

Of all the things she could have asked, this seemed to be the most innocuous. “Indy.”

“You grow up in Indiana?”

“No, my mom liked Indiana Jones.” He jerked at the information he’d just spilled.

Admiration gleamed in Noah’s eyes and Samara had to repress a giggle. She knew she’d surprised him and gotten information he hadn’t meant to share.

“Damn, you’re good.”

“Thanks. My brothers told me I could squeeze juice from a fake lemon.”

“You mean Mark, Peter, Scott, Stewart, and John?”

“Wow, you even have them memorized.”

“And I’m assuming ‘Samara’ was chosen because it’s a mix of your mom’s and dad’s names … Sam and Mary?”

“Yep. I complained about it one time, because it’s so unusual, but Mom told me I should just be grateful their names weren’t something like Fred and Ethel, since they would have called me Freckle.”

“That would have suited you, too.”

“Why?”

“Because you have a tiny freckle on your left earlobe.”

“How’d you know?”

“I noticed it in Paris.”

Since this was a subject she most definitely didn’t want to explore, Samara turned back to the refrigerator, staring blindly at the near empty shelves. “What time are the groceries being delivered?”

“Probably around noon. If you’ll check out the bottom of that bag, you’ll find a box of Krispy Kremes.”

Okay, now that was a junk food she could get behind. Samara dug back into the sack and pulled out a box of her favorites. As she prepared another pot of coffee, she knew Noah’s eyes watched her every move. What should have made her nervous seemed amazingly comfortable. She didn’t ask herself why. The reason would be useless. Once this creep was caught and her job finished, Noah would be gone from her life. She ignored the curious wave of sadness at this thought. Having feelings for this man went beyond the boundaries of idiocy and into the realm of lunacy.

She turned from her coffeemaker, determined to put everything else out of her mind other than the reason he was here. “So, how do we get started?”

“I figured we’d start by exploring the chat rooms the girls frequented. There are about thirty of them, so it’ll take most of the day to do that. Tonight, we’ll start trolling. We’ll introduce you, where you live, your age, things like that.”

Samara poured each of them a cup of coffee and set the cups on the table, pushing the creamer and sugar his way. Noah shook his head, indicating he drank his coffee black. Another unimportant detail, but since she knew almost nothing, important to her.

Biting into a créme-filled doughnut, Samara closed her eyes and took a second to savor …
heaven
. She opened her eyes to find Noah’s gaze on her mouth, a hungry, unguarded expression on his normally expressionless face. Warmth suffused her body, targeting a couple of spots where they set up a hot throb of awareness. How startling that with one look, Noah could make her more aware of her femininity and sexuality than any man she’d ever known.

As if aware he’d given a thought away, his face shut down and he took a long gulp of coffee.

Samara winced, even as she hid a smile. She’d just poured the coffee, it had to have scorched his mouth, but he gave no indication of pain.

“You said you’ll recognize him when you see him answer. How will you know?”

Noah grabbed a doughnut, halved it with one bite, swallowed, and answered, “He’ll be a star athlete, someone who’s fairly well-known in the city.”

“How do you know he’s not finished? Taking twelve girls and getting out of Dodge before he can get caught. If the police are onto him and you’re onto him, he’s got to know his time’s running out.”

“I think he’ll take fifteen before he quits.”

“Why fifteen?”

“It’s just a hunch, but it’s the best shot we have.”

His face showed nothing different, but Samara got the distinct impression he was holding back information. Wouldn’t do any good to ask more questions. She knew almost nothing about this man but knew enough to know he wouldn’t share information he felt she didn’t need. She tried not to resent that, though it was hard. If it weren’t for the fact that she actually thought she could help him track this creep, she’d tell him to leave. Being used wasn’t one of her favorite pastimes. But she trusted Noah enough to know he would tell her anything that might help with this case. She told herself to be grateful for that and let everything else go.