Return to Me (8 page)

He clicked on his laptop and signed on. His pulse kicked up. Three new messages waited. Had they gotten a nibble? The email addresses were innocuous enough.
[email protected]
,
[email protected]
, and
[email protected]

Noah clicked on and read the first.

Hi Carly, I saw your post on teen things chatroom. My name is Brian Sanders. I go to Madison High in Montgomery. I’m seventeen and play football. … I’m a running back. Email me back if you’d like to talk more
.

The second email read like a typical lonely, horny teenager. The third one was an invitation to come to a church revival and repent. Since he was pretty sure the last one wouldn’t attract a sixteen-year-old, he ignored that one. The lonely teen … he read again:

Carly, I’m John. U sound cut. R U?

Noah shook his head. No, too illiterate. He went back to Brian’s message and read it again. Sounded like what he would expect from the bastard, but he’d have to wait and see. He didn’t answer back. What sixteen-year-old would be answering this early on a Saturday morning? He’d wait a few hours, then see if that nibble turned into a full-fledged bite.

A slight sound drew his attention from the screen. A groggy fairy sprite shuffled into the living room and didn’t glance his way as she continued her early-morning slide into the kitchen. Noah’s mouth kicked up in a small smile. Evidently Ms. Samara Lyons was not a morning person.

It took barely a second to make this realization and then proceed to the next. Samara’s sleepwear consisted of a cropped T-shirt with the picture of a frog on the front and the words
Kiss me and see what happens
on the back. The shorts covering her delectable bottom were brief and showed an enticing length of smooth, tanned legs. His cock rose to celebrate the occasion. Hell, was there any time this woman didn’t turn him on?

He watched her disappear into the kitchen and resumed his mental lashing of how inappropriate it was to lust over a woman he was working with. It was a cardinal rule for him. No personal involvement with another operative … even if said operative was temporary.

Noah stared at the screen and reminded himself of the reasons nothing could happen between them. The mission was and always would be of top importance for him. Nothing else could matter.

The shuffling drew closer. Samara was returning from her trek into the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. She had yet to even acknowledge his existence and much to his surprise, that bothered him. Was he invisible?

“Good morning,” Noah said.

In one simultaneous action, Samara’s coffee cup went up in the air, she squealed a shriek high-pitched enough to excite a dolphin, and, turning, grabbed a vase filled with silk roses and threw it in his direction.

Noah jumped up, barely getting out of the way of the flying vase. His reaction time slowed by shock at her actions. “Hell, Samara, what’s your problem?”

“Noah, dammit!” She glared at him. “Do you have to scare the crap out of me every time?”

“Scare you? I just said good morning. What’s scary about that?”

Hands on hips, she continued to glare and Noah breathed in a curse. Hell, did she not realize her breasts jutted out even more? Nipples distended, Noah’s mouth watered at the thought of tasting the sweet berries, of pulling up her shirt and taking her entire breast into his mouth. They weren’t large, but beautifully shaped, rounded and firm. His palms tingled at the thought of pushing her breasts together and suckling them at the same time.

Slender arms wrapped around her chest, distorting his view. “Would you stop staring at my breasts and look at me?”

“I am looking at you. Go put on a bra if you don’t want me staring at your breasts.”

“I don’t wear a bra to bed.”

“I don’t see a bed anywhere in this room.” And thank God for that because if there was one, he greatly feared he’d already have her on it.

With one last glower, Samara turned back to the kitchen and returned with a dish towel. She kneeled and began to mop up the coffee spill.

Noah knew human nature enough to realize he had embarrassed her and that bothered him for some reason. He took her arm, and pulled her to her feet. “Go put on some clothes. I’ll take care of the mess.”

Not meeting his eyes, she nodded and practically ran into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Resisting the impulse to throw herself back on the bed and bury her head under the pillow, Samara instead pulled off her shirt and put on a bra. She pulled her T-shirt back on, cursing under her breath. Her breasts were small. What was the big deal? She often went without a bra and thought nothing of it, so why …

Good heavens, had it been so long that she hadn’t even recognized the signs? He’d been staring at her breasts not from outrage that she wore no bra but from desire. She’d been slow before, but never this slow. The man wanted her. Despite his warnings, his attempts to put the blame on her, there had been desire on his face.

Drawing a brush through her hair, she smiled at her reflection. Her day was definitely looking up.

She returned to the living room to find the spilled coffee cleaned up and Noah in the kitchen. She eased in, wanting to gauge his mood before she said anything. The man was volatile, outrageous, and unpredictable. Definitely not an easy person to know or like. So why couldn’t she stop smiling?

Noah stood at the stove, scrambling eggs. He shot a brief look over his shoulder. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

Samara poured two cups of coffee and sat them on the table. “Need any help?”

“No.”

Okay, fine with her. Deciding he could wait on her and she wouldn’t mind in the least, Samara sat at the table and waited for breakfast to be served.

Noah slid a plate filled with eggs, toast, and bacon in front of her. He sat across from her and attacked his food as if it could escape at any moment. His head bent to his meal, tense silence surrounded him.

Samara ate at a slower, contemplative pace. She was used to men and their vagaries. With five brothers, she could guess almost any mood of a man. Noah was harder to read. It was almost as if he had developed such a talent for subterfuge that showing anything real got locked up faster than lightning. Why couldn’t the man have a real, honest-to-God emotion and show it?

“You need to learn some self-defense moves.” The grumbling voice jerked her from her Noah analysis.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You fight like a girl.”

Instead of addressing his insult, Samara leaned forward and seared him with her eyes. “Let me ask you a question. Do you even know how to relate to people?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You kidnap me, tie me up, insult me, accuse me of coming on to you and overexposing my body. Now you tell me I fight like a girl … which by the way, I am, and don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

His expression revealed nothing but granite impassivity. “So what’s your point?”

“My point is you work awfully damn hard on pissing me off just to keep me at arm’s length. I’m wondering why.”

Taking his empty plate and hers, he stood and walked to the sink. “You’ve got a vivid imagination.” Noah turned and gave her what looked to be a genuine smile. “What I told you last night was the truth. You keep giving me the vibes and I don’t want you to think that anything can happen between us. And as far as kidnapping you, if I’d thought you’d listen any other way, I would have done it differently. You’re the one who turned down a talk, not me.”

Standing, Samara nodded, realizing she would get nowhere with him. He was so far into denial, it probably wasn’t even in his vocabulary.

“I’ll clean up since you were kind enough to fix breakfast.”

A small flicker touched his face. Surprise that she’d given in so easily? She hadn’t given in, but had backed off. Having learned long ago that there was nothing wrong with retreat in order to go in a different direction, she’d wait awhile and find another way inside him. Her brothers hadn’t nicknamed her Bulldozer for nothing.

“When you get through, come on into the living room. I got a couple of responses back. One of them may be our guy.”

Samara nodded. She might be in a cat-and-mouse game with Noah, but she needed to keep her mind on the real purpose. Saving these girls’ lives. It wasn’t something she planned to forget. Teaching Noah a little lesson in humanity might be a small side benefit, but the most important thing was to rescue the girls and catch the creeps preying on them.

Since Noah left little to clean, she was seated in front of the computer within minutes of breakfast. He clicked on the three messages and let her read through them.

“What do you think?”

“Mmm. Not the Mission Ridge guy, and probably not John, since he sounds either too young or maybe not so bright.”

“Yeah, my thoughts, too. I did some research on Brian Sanders. He is who he says he is. Popular kid, plays football. Definitely a high school jock. Only question is, is this really Brian? I’ve sent some of my people to check him out. In the meantime, we’ll play along.” He clicked back onto Brian’s message and slid the laptop toward her. “Want to answer him back?”

Samara nodded. Chewing her lip in concentration, she replied,
Hi Brian. I’m a sophomore at Pelham. I love football. Maybe I’ll come and watch you sometime
. Before she could press send, Noah’s hand stopped her.

“Wait—don’t you think that’s coming on a little strong?”

“Excuse me? When’s the last time you were a sixteen-year-old girl or even around a sixteen-year-old girl?”

“I’ll admit it’s been a while. I just don’t want him to think you’re pushing a meeting. The last thing we want to do is scare him off.”

Though she still didn’t think it was too forward, Noah was right. They did need to play it safe until they had him hooked. “Okay, how about this?” She deleted what she’d typed, typed a few new sentences, and slid the screen toward him.

I like football … really all sports. It’s just my mom and me here at home, and she’s not into sports. Do you play anything else besides football?

“Better. Send it and see what happens.”

Samara hit send and stared at the screen. Nothing happened. Of course, he was probably doing other things. If he was the real Brian, he might be mowing the grass or doing whatever teen boys do on a Saturday morning. If he wasn’t the real Brian, she hoped he took the bait so no other young girl got caught up in his wicked net.

“While we’re waiting, do you want to learn a few self-defense moves?”

Samara blinked at him. He was offering to teach her? “Why?”

“Because you need to know how to protect yourself. There’s nothing dangerous about this project, but you never know when something might happen. Like the other night. You should have been able to do some damage to me.”

“I fooled you into thinking I was unconscious.”

That beautiful smile lifted his perfect lips and Samara had to literally catch her breath before she expelled it on a sigh of sheer awe. Why did this man have to be so incredibly delectable and so frustratingly irritating?

“Yeah, you fooled me. But I was doing my damnedest not to hurt you. If someone hadn’t cared about that, they could have taken you with no problem.”

Samara stood. Pride told her to say no, she didn’t need his help. Her brothers had taught her all she needed to know. Curiosity, along with an anticipation of being close to him, forced pride away and made her say, “Okay. Show me what I should have done the other night.”

As he rose to stand beside her, a voice inside Noah’s head cursed him for his stupidity. He’d done his dead level best to keep away from her and now he was about to get even closer? Just how masochistic could one man be?

“Okay, first of all. Always park as close as you can to your apartment.”

“I would have except there weren’t any spaces available.” She shot him a narrowed-eye glare. “You probably got my spot.”

“Second, always make sure you look around when you get out of the car. If you feel even the slightest apprehension, something seems off, whatever, get back in the car.”

“That’s kind of what Eden told me.”

“You talked to Eden? When?”

“Yesterday.”

“She gave you advice on keeping safe?”

“Just a little.”

“Are you worried that something’s going to happen to you? Because we can change—”

“No, I’m not worried and neither is Eden. She just wanted me to take responsibility for staying aware of my surroundings.”

“Good advice. Now, I came at you from behind. Turn around.”

Samara turned and Noah immediately grabbed her. Samara swung around and threw a punch at his head. He easily dodged it, but she’d surprised him. Her movements were graceful and quick. He grabbed the hand that swung at him and pulled it behind her back, careful not to hurt her.

“That was a nice move, but now I’ve got you in a lock and could easily break your arm.”

Noah looked down at her head, which came to just the top of his chest. Silky black hair, pulled haphazardly back into a loose ponytail, tempted him. His nose twitched at the delightfully fresh scent that he’d bet his last dollar hadn’t come from any bottle.

She struggled against his grip and he forced his mind back to where it was supposed to be. “If you were taller, you could just throw your head back and knock me in the nose. Since you’re small, your best bet is to go limp like you did before.”

Immediately she stopped struggling and collapsed in his arms.

“Good. Now, what I’d do is loosen my arms, just a bit. When I do, stomp on my foot, kick me in the shin, or slam your arm or fist into my crotch. But whatever you do, when I let go, run from me as fast as you can.”

She twisted to look up at him. “Run?”

“Absolutely. You’re not staying around to teach this guy a lesson. Your number-one priority is to stay alive.”

“That’s what my brothers always told me to do.”

“Why’d you seem surprised, then?”

“Because I doubt that’s how you trained Eden or any of the other female operatives you have.”

“That’s not true. I taught them to stay alive. If they’re outnumbered or in danger, they run. They can always go back and fight later. Hard to do if you’re dead.”