Read Online No One Lives Forever by Jordan Dane - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jordan Dane
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uncovered the truth about Fiona being his mother, he kept the information to himself. No one needed to know. Most people asked too many questions, more out of morbid curiosity than from any real concern. Only a handful of Dunhill employees knew the real story of why he'd quit. He preferred it that way.
"I've been working for Mrs. Dunhill too long not to ask about her. Doesn't mean she's not in my prayers." Cooper smiled, then added, "Anytime you're ready."
Christian nodded his acknowledgment, gulping more coffee as the man left the room. Alone and rapt in his thoughts, he watched the gate, eyes fixed. Then a scent teased his awareness. He felt a subtle shift. A presence displaced the air in the room. Closing his eyes for an instant, he focused on his senses, waiting for her.
With expectation tugging at his gut, he turned, fighting a smile as his heart lifted. But his mood quickly changed.
"The detective isn't coming?" Jasmine entered the room so quietly he almost hadn't noticed.
"No," he replied.
The woman didn't bother to hide her amusement. It hit him the wrong way.
"Don't read anything into it. Thelma isn't making the road trip, Louise. That's all." With eyes downcast, he looked into his empty mug and muttered. "It's for the best."
Christian got a refill on coffee and stared steadfast at Jasmine. "I did some research last night on the Internet. Got a lot of hits off the name Charboneau."
As expected, the woman flinched, a slight move he might have missed if he hadn't been watching. Feeling encouraged, he went on.
"That genetics research facility Charboneau has been associated with? It was one of the organizations working on the human genome-mapping project, identifying the gene linked to drug and alcohol addiction a few years back."
He stepped closer to her, a hand in his pocket. He nursed his coffee and waited for the right moment to bait her.
"But I find it hard to believe a man who allegedly makes a living off the drug-addicted fringe of society would suddenly have a change in heart. How do you explain that?"
"Ah, the key word is 'allegedly.' But as you well know, I am only a bodyguard. I know nothing about—"
"Just . . . stop." He raised a hand and shook his head. "Save the bullshit for someone who might buy what you're slinging."
The woman stood her ground, not backing down. To the contrary, she smiled and stepped closer. Jasmine placed a hand on his chest. A bold move.
"Despite my preferences toward complete candor, I won't betray him," she said, her voice throaty and sensual.
He clenched his jaw. Whatever she peddled, he wasn't buying. "Oh, yeah, you're a beacon for truth and the American way." Then out of the blue, a thought occurred to him, something he'd read between the lines. He followed his gut instincts and tossed out a zinger from left field.
"Do you love him?"
For an instant, surprise registered across her dark eyes. Recovering, she masked the reaction. Her expression morphed into her usual distant facade. She turned her back and walked to the window, arms clutched to her chest.
"He is my employer."
"Answer the question." He pressed, knowing he had crossed the line.
She spun toward him, eyes flared with indignation. "That is none of your business."
Her strong reaction forced him to replay something she'd told him yesterday about the enduring connection between Fiona and her old flame. Before he could stop himself, he voiced his theory. "You love him, but he still loves my—"
"Don't say it." Cutting the distance between them, Jasmine strut closer with a finger raised in challenge. "Let's get something straight between us. We are here to intervene in Nicky's destiny, to save his life. That is all. If you have another agenda, then you're out . . . now."
Her face suddenly animated, he got a glimpse of what it would be like to suffer the woman's anger. Most probably, he deserved her outrage for intruding on personal turf, but the woman bluffed—big-time.
"Pretty cocky for someone who
"I've been working for Mrs. Dunhill too long not to ask about her. Doesn't mean she's not in my prayers." Cooper smiled, then added, "Anytime you're ready."
Christian nodded his acknowledgment, gulping more coffee as the man left the room. Alone and rapt in his thoughts, he watched the gate, eyes fixed. Then a scent teased his awareness. He felt a subtle shift. A presence displaced the air in the room. Closing his eyes for an instant, he focused on his senses, waiting for her.
With expectation tugging at his gut, he turned, fighting a smile as his heart lifted. But his mood quickly changed.
"The detective isn't coming?" Jasmine entered the room so quietly he almost hadn't noticed.
"No," he replied.
The woman didn't bother to hide her amusement. It hit him the wrong way.
"Don't read anything into it. Thelma isn't making the road trip, Louise. That's all." With eyes downcast, he looked into his empty mug and muttered. "It's for the best."
Christian got a refill on coffee and stared steadfast at Jasmine. "I did some research last night on the Internet. Got a lot of hits off the name Charboneau."
As expected, the woman flinched, a slight move he might have missed if he hadn't been watching. Feeling encouraged, he went on.
"That genetics research facility Charboneau has been associated with? It was one of the organizations working on the human genome-mapping project, identifying the gene linked to drug and alcohol addiction a few years back."
He stepped closer to her, a hand in his pocket. He nursed his coffee and waited for the right moment to bait her.
"But I find it hard to believe a man who allegedly makes a living off the drug-addicted fringe of society would suddenly have a change in heart. How do you explain that?"
"Ah, the key word is 'allegedly.' But as you well know, I am only a bodyguard. I know nothing about—"
"Just . . . stop." He raised a hand and shook his head. "Save the bullshit for someone who might buy what you're slinging."
The woman stood her ground, not backing down. To the contrary, she smiled and stepped closer. Jasmine placed a hand on his chest. A bold move.
"Despite my preferences toward complete candor, I won't betray him," she said, her voice throaty and sensual.
He clenched his jaw. Whatever she peddled, he wasn't buying. "Oh, yeah, you're a beacon for truth and the American way." Then out of the blue, a thought occurred to him, something he'd read between the lines. He followed his gut instincts and tossed out a zinger from left field.
"Do you love him?"
For an instant, surprise registered across her dark eyes. Recovering, she masked the reaction. Her expression morphed into her usual distant facade. She turned her back and walked to the window, arms clutched to her chest.
"He is my employer."
"Answer the question." He pressed, knowing he had crossed the line.
She spun toward him, eyes flared with indignation. "That is none of your business."
Her strong reaction forced him to replay something she'd told him yesterday about the enduring connection between Fiona and her old flame. Before he could stop himself, he voiced his theory. "You love him, but he still loves my—"
"Don't say it." Cutting the distance between them, Jasmine strut closer with a finger raised in challenge. "Let's get something straight between us. We are here to intervene in Nicky's destiny, to save his life. That is all. If you have another agenda, then you're out . . . now."
Her face suddenly animated, he got a glimpse of what it would be like to suffer the woman's anger. Most probably, he deserved her outrage for intruding on personal turf, but the woman bluffed—big-time.
"Pretty cocky for someone who
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