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any credence to. Being attracted to a woman like her would be suicide. She wasn’t the type to heat up the sheets and then wave goodbye without a backward glance. That was the only kind of woman who interested him.
    He stepped out of the shower and dried off. Pulling on a pair of shorts, T-shirt, and running shoes, he headed out the door. It might be after midnight here, but he was still on Paris time, which meant no sleep until sometime tonight. He bypassed the elevators and ran down six flights of stairs. Exiting the back entrance, he started at a slow jog. Running through the parking lot filled with semis, SUVs, and the occasional rattletrap, he turned out of the lot and headed down the street. This time of night, there was little traffic, totally different from Paris, which never slept.
    A good hour run, then he’d go back to the hotel and do a little more research. After that, he’d pack up his gear and head over to Samara’s. After much discussion, they’d agreed to work out of her apartment. He’d basically have to move in, as most of the online chatter would take place late at night. It just made sense to stay close. True, he could try to attract this creep’s attention on his own and just use her when the time came for a meeting. But it’d been years since he’d been around teenage girls. Samara would know a hell of a lot more about how they talked than he would. She hadn’t been crazy about the idea of his moving in, but reluctantly agreed.
    Once he had gotten her agreement to let him stay with her, he’d left. After she told him she would help, things had become a little awkward. Her thoughts, no doubt, on what happened in Paris. She needed some time to think about what she’d agreed to, and he’d needed to get away from her for a while. Focus was an important part of what he did. With Samara, he had a tendency to lose it … one of the reasons they’d almost had their own little tango in Paris. He’d lost both focus and control. That sweet mouth of hers called to mind all sorts of things he wanted to do with it. And when he’d tasted her …
    Noah came to an abrupt halt and bent over, breathing out harsh breaths. Almost impossible to run with a hard-on. He needed to get his head on straight before he saw her again. Once this project was over, he’d go back to Paris, she’d go on with her life here. In the meantime, they had a job to do. Neither one of them needed the distraction of attraction.
    Regaining his control, Noah made a quick turn through a deserted mall parking lot and headed back. Thick, humid air coated his skin. He used to love running in the southern heat, the way it fought back as you ran through its dense atmosphere. Not anymore. Anything that remotely reminded him of his past was something he’d gladly chew glass to get away from.
    Noah let himself into the hotel room, once again checking the unmoved thread. The phone rang just as he grabbed a water bottle from the minibar.
    He took a long swallow and answered on the third ring, already knowing who it was and what she wanted.
    “Did you find her?”
    “Yeah.”
    “And?” The husky, feminine voice held amused impatience.
    “And she said yes.”
    “I never doubted she would.”
    “You tell him yet?”
    “Oh yes.” A little sultry laugh gave him a good idea of how she’d gone about it.
    “What’d he have to say about it?”
    “Before or after I plied him with wine and had my way with him?”
    Noah grinned. Eden St. Claire Montgomery had a way with persuasion, especially with her husband, Jordan. Though this particular time, Eden probably had a little more trouble than usual. Convincing Jordan that his former girlfriend would be able to handle this job couldn’t have been easy.
    “Not so simple?”
    “Hell, no. I’m exhausted. But I finally made him realize that no matter what was involved, you would protect her with your life.”
    “And I will. But she’s not going to get close enough to danger for that to be a