No One Left To Tell by Jordan Dane

Author:Jordan Dane [Dane, Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

CHAPTER 10

"You look lovely, Fiona. I'd nearly forgotten—"

His voice resonated through the formal parlor with its twenty-foot ceiling, the sound of his footsteps intruding upon his feigned cordiality. He'd entered the grand salon with a confident swagger, breezing toward her, dapper and dashing in his elegant navy suit. But as he neared, a reserve swept over him and now rested in his eyes of blue-violet. She hadn't seen eyes that color before or since. Truly, the man was one of a kind.

"Well, let's just say it's been a very long time." Nicholas Charboneau held out his hand, beckoning for hers. She lowered her eyes to the soft skin of his palm, resisting the memory of how that hand had once given her such pleasure.

"A lifetime, Nicky."

That name. She hadn't spoken his name aloud for decades.

Fiona hoped he hadn't seen the slight tremble as she gripped his hand. His eyes firmly entrenched in hers, Nicky held her fingers and brushed a thumb across the back of her hand. A suggestive move. To counter her weakness, a show of strength would be in order. She refused to dissolve under the pressure of his mesmerizing blue eyes.

"I thought I covered my tracks fairly well—no flight plans, a private airstrip at a friend's personal residence, paying off the French government to turn a blind eye. How did you find me, Nicky?"

Keeping her hand in his, she was determined not to give in to his obvious show of intimidation by pulling away. Fiona forced a smile. The best she could do.

"The first rule in the art of bribery, my dear. Never trust anyone who'd accept a bribe in the first place. A rather amazing paradox, really." He lowered his chin and tilted his head, unrelenting in his gaze. "Actually, I cheated. You'll find a tracking beacon on your plane, just inside one of the wheel wells."

With a haunting smile she knew well, he eventually released his grip on her. And in the wake of his touch, she didn't know which felt worse. The warmth of his skin lingered in contradiction, her fondest and worst memory.

"Otherwise, I'd say yours was a grand scheme. It would have worked on your standard fare of pursuers." His deep voice grew thick with intimacy.

He stood close enough for her skin to tingle at the sound of its familiarity. She turned her back on him, unable to steady her breathing. But as she stepped away, she caught a glimpse of him in the massive beveled mirror above the mantel of the marbled hearth. For a split second, a guileless younger man appeared in the reflection. Past and present stared her in the face. The image disturbed her. She flinched and shut her eyes for a moment. Fighting for control, she allowed sarcasm to imply a strength she did not possess.

"How utterly gracious of you, Nicky. Your charm knows no bounds." She claimed an ornately carved and gilded armchair with vivid yellow brocade, set beside the fire. Fiona appreciated the symbolism. She'd always been the moth flitting too near the flame.

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