No One Lives Forever Read Online Free PDF Page B

to intervene. They would prefer to turn a blind eye to the whole distasteful affair. And I have run out of time . . . and resources."
    From the kitchen, as Christian served himself coffee, he said, "Hey, you better back it up. Tell me why you're here. I don't understand."
    "Yes, of course." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The side of her face still felt swollen as she moved her head to face him. "My employer, Nicholas Charboneau, was kidnapped three days ago in the city of Cuiabá, Brazil. If I don't wire a million dollars in U.S. currency to a Swiss bank account in seven days, he will be killed."
    With a puzzled look, Christian stopped mid-gulp, lowering his coffee mug. But the woman detective interceded. "Wait a minute. I know that name. Charboneau heads up a crime syndicate here in Chicago. He's a tough guy to catch 'cause his assets cover legitimate businesses. As I recall, he makes his money the old-fashioned way, drugs and illegal arms trading mostly. A real specialist. What was he doing in Brazil? Arms trading? Drug dealing? And why do you need help from Christian?"
    Jasmine had expected such questions from him, but the intrusion of this woman proved irritating. For now, she had no other option but to tolerate it.
    "Mr. Charboneau does not confide his business affairs to me. I am his personal bodyguard. That is all."
    With a doubtful expression, Christian chimed in, "I don't know. Someone in your position must see and hear quite a bit. And you look like a smart enough woman to do the math. I think you know exactly what he was doing in Brazil."
    "And the fact that Charboneau got kidnapped on your watch, that's gotta hurt." Raven cut her to the bone with her perceptive observation. She deserved it. Not a day had gone by that she didn't chastise herself in much the same way. Guilt was a pervasive disease.
    "It does," Jasmine replied. "You have no idea." It was the first honest emotion she had shared since her intrusion into their lives. Yet she despised vulnerability. With her eyes downcast, she avoided their stares.
    Shifting the focus, she directed her next comment to him. "I am asking for your help. It is not just a matter of collecting on a debt, although that should be a compelling enough reason for an honorable man."
    "Don't waste your time with this guilt trip. You're tap dancing around something. What is it?" he demanded.
    Clearly, Christian would not make this easy. But there was honesty in his candor. And she respected him for it. Still, going against Nicky's wishes felt like a betrayal.
    "My employer would not wish for me to tell you this. In fact, he expressly asked me not to contact you. But as I have said, I am out of time."
    "I don't know the man. Why would he give such an order? You're being painfully cryptic, Jasmine."
    Delaying her response, she took a sip of coffee, then slowly set the cup and saucer on a table. It had come to this. Only the truth would satisfy him.
    "It is a sensitive matter. Yet I find I have no choice. Your mother, Fiona Dunhill, knew Nicholas quite well. If she knew of his plight, she would help."
    "How do you know about Fiona . . . and my relationship to her?"
    "The same way I know of your father . . . your biological one." She felt her heart skip a beat, then quicken its pace. It pained her to be the one to break the news, to deny Nicky of his choice in the matter. Her betrayal knew no bounds.
    "Nicholas Charboneau is your father, Christian."
    "How could you possibly know that? This better not be another one of your mind games," he bellowed, then clenched his jaw in anger. "Besides, I know all I need to know about my real father."
    Yet his words of denial felt. . . wrong.
    Christian knew John Delacorte had raised him as a son. And the man had made the ultimate sacrifice, giving his own life to save him from certain death all those years ago. The memory had been buried deep in his mind and only recently unlocked, the dark childhood tragedy that