No One Lives Forever Read Online Free PDF

The mysterious woman drilled her with a steady gaze, without an ounce of contrition showing in her vague expression.
    "In case I have been unclear, you and I have nothing in common. And I do not wish to talk to you. So perhaps it is best you leave Christian and me to discuss our business in private ... as it should be."
    Anger surged under Raven's skin, bringing heat to her face. Just as she prepared to respond to the woman's arrogant audacity, a deep baritone voice filled the space between them.
    "Whatever you've come to say, you'll do it in front of Raven. If this is not acceptable, then you should be the one to leave. Hit the bricks . . . now."
    Christian Delacorte's appearance was bad timing for Jasmine. Now she risked alienating the one man she needed most. She hoped to be discreet when it came to her open resentment toward the detective's involvement. She would have to be craftier to pry Christian free of this woman's interference. A worthy goal.
    Yet when her eyes met his, she nearly forgot to breathe. Every nuance of his face stirred a memory, a bittersweet reminder of why she had sought him out in the first place. Indeed, his face triggered a pang of regret and flooded her with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. So much so that she had to remind herself that this was a very different man. And as he walked toward her with anger in his gaze, a sweeping fragrance of herbal soap and the essence of his skin preceded him, reviving her to the present with all the subtlety of a sharp pinch to tender skin.
    He moved with masculine ease, yet his gaze remained guarded and alert. His eyes never wavered from her face. Broad shoulders and narrow hips dominated her imagination. Even with the oversized furniture in the living area, Christian eclipsed the space with his presence, his height well over six feet. She had nearly forgotten how impressive he was. And once again, she found herself drawn in, completely captivated by the similarity.
    His dark wavy hair, still damp from the shower, framed a handsome face. A strong jawline with a day's growth of beard gave him a rugged edge, offset by the sensuality of full lips. Dark lashes accentuated the deep green of his eyes, a complex blending of flecked gold and striations of azure. From this distance, combined with the blue of his chambray shirt, she could not discern the natural color of his most expressive eyes. Although the eye color was vastly different, the resemblance was striking. Remarkable.
    His masculinity reminded her of—
    "Well? What's it gonna be?" he demanded. His gaze drilled her like a weapon.
    "It seems I have little choice in the matter." Jolted back to reality, she forced a smile. "May I trouble you for some coffee? It smells delightful."
    He raised his chin and narrowed his eyes. After a long moment of silent deliberation, he finally offered, "Yeah. I'll get it."
    Christian stepped toward the kitchen, leaving her to face a very perturbed woman at the other end of the sofa. Raven had seen through her subterfuge and her feigned pleasantry. She was too damned smart for her own good and much too inquisitive—annoying qualities in an adversary. Christian would be difficult enough to handle without the added complication of a shrewd police detective.
    Yet the emotion the woman wore on her sleeve made her vulnerable. Perhaps it could be used to her advantage, when the time was right.
    So much depended upon this meeting with Christian. She could not afford to be distracted again by this woman or thwarted by his stubbornness. Failure was simply not an option. Fear wedged in her throat when she contemplated the consequences. She swallowed hard. Her throat tightened with emotion.
    "You are my last hope," Jasmine blurted out as Christian handed her a cup of coffee. She held her cup and saucer in both hands, as he handed Raven her cup, trying to hide the betraying sound of porcelain in trembling hands. "The American Consulate in Brazil and the State Department have refused