Agent M4: Riordan Read online

  Natalie’s assistant, Josie Aguilar, stood in front of her desk, breathing fast, her gray hair windblown. She waved up Natalie out of her chair, her eyes filled with excitement.

  Pulling out her ear buds, Natalie paused a Hinder song as she went around the desk. She really didn’t have time for this. She needed to review her notes on Riordan St. James before he arrived.

  Heck. Who was she kidding? She had every darned letter – and physical feature - memorized. The truth was, she needed something to distract her until he got there.

  “Okay, Josie. What is it? You act like the building’s burning down…”

  Josie took swift, short steps in her conservative heels and pencil skirt. Natalie had to rush to keep up with her.

  “No fire…” Josie led the way into the front reception area. “But, something just as ho-“

  The outer door opened. Natalie stumbled to a stop, Josie beside her. Riordan St. James stepped inside.

  Only this wasn’t the Riordan St. James she’d met on Friday. That man had been a rough around the edges, no-holds-barred, long-haired Neanderthal.

  This man… Natalie refrained from fanning herself, while Josie stared at him outright. This man wore his blonde, sun-streaked hair in long, stylish layers, his beard cut close. Gray trousers fit snug around his narrow hips, a pristine, white shirt over his wide shoulders and muscular chest. A figured tie in various shades of blue complimented his pale eyes.

  However, best of all, had to be the spicy scent of juniper, musk wood and mandarin he showered on the reception area.

  Holy rocky road…

  “Dr. Meeks.” His heated gaze traveled from her pumps, up her black pant suit to her warm face, which had to be the same color as her rubicund shirt.

  Why did she agree to see him? She already felt perspiration at her back. At this rate, she’d be stripped down to her intimates by the end of his session.

  Then again, maybe that was the plan.

  And you wouldn’t mind a bit, Nat.

  “Mr. St. James…” She gave a brief nod. “You’re early.”

  His baby blue eyes sparkled in the overhead lights. “Dr. Meeks… You noticed.”

  Josie’s eyes widened as she cleared her throat. “Mr. St. James, may I get you some coffee, tea…?” She mumbled under her breath. “Fire extinguisher?”

  The man actually had the gall to smile. Not just his brilliant smile, either. He gave her assistant a raving, all-out flirtatious smile, complete with a full dimple.

  “Water would be great. Thanks…” He held out his hand to Josie.

  She took it with a shy smile. Josie? Shy?

  “Josie Aguilar. I’m Dr. Meeks’ assistant.”

  Dropping his hand like a hot coal, Josie rushed out of the room.

  He turned to Natalie. “If it’s going to mess up your schedule, I can wait out here until nine o’clock.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Was he making fun of her penchant for routine? Routine kept her organized when her mind wanted to wander. Wander to the nearest art museum, online music store, handbag shop or… heaven forbid, tattoo website.

  Her father would have a fit.

  “Now is fine, Mr. St. James.” Turning back to her office, she held open the door and waited for him to enter. “Not a coffee drinker?” She shut the door behind her.

  Looking around her office, he shook his head. “Not anymore. I used to be addicted. I’ve stayed away from it since I got back.” Going to the picture window, he stared at the pedestrians and traffic of downtown. “Nice office.”

  Natalie had made a point of making her ground floor office a welcoming place. Abstract art in bright, vivid colors adorned her walls, the furnishings minimalistic and contemporary.

  The room looked luxurious enough for her upper end clients yet, didn’t come across as too ostentatious. For some reason, it pleased her that he approved.

  She scowled to herself. “Please, sit down.”

  Turning from the outdoors, he stared at her. “I’m fine where I’m at.”

  Yes, you are.

  She sighed. “Mr. St. James, as much as you’d prefer it, I can’t talk to you with your back turned to me.”

  Humor hiked up the corners of his mouth. “You’re the boss, Dr. Meeks.” Walking around the sofa, he sat in the middle of the cushions and stretched out his arms across the back. Resting his ankle on his knee, he gave her a sarcastic smile. “Better?”

  Only if you were gone.

  She sat down in her red armchair. “Perhaps we need to get one thing clear right off the bat. You’re here as my patient, not the other way around. My office, my way, my rules. If you can’t handle that, you’re more than welcome to leave.”

  Eyes narrowed, he studied her without speaking. After a long moment, he said, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  Immensely.

  She didn’t respond.

  A dazzling smile flashed on his handsome face. “Sorry to disappoint you, Meeks, but I’m here to gain your approval. You’re stuck with me until you deem me certifiably… safe.”

  Hah. Calling Riordan St. James safe would be like calling Chris Hemsworth’s biceps average.

  She crossed her legs. “Okay. Let’s get down to it. Why do you want it?”

  He gave her a slow, appreciative perusal, his grin arrogant.

  Warmth flooded her face. “Let me elaborate. Why do you want the danger, the twenty-four/seven commitment? You’ve got a fresh start, Riordan. This would be a great opportunity to do something you’ve always dreamed about. Why this? Why D.I.R.E.?”

  Frowning, he studied the back of his hand. “Besides the fact that Mitchell gave me my hands, it’s all I know.” He looked over at her. “What else do I have?”

  She softened her voice. “I don’t know. Tell me.”

  His sarcastic harrumph echoed in the quiet room. “Nothing. I have no family, no home, no other job offers. I just got my first paycheck, but my identity is still pending.” He flipped up his hands. “You’re right. I have a clean slate. Why not become the only man in the world with magnetic ability?”

  He had a point. “You’ll move from one dangerous situation to another. When you have a family, what will that do to them?”

  With high brows, he pulled back his head. “Family? I can’t even think that way. Not after what’s happened. If I’d left behind a wife and family, it would’ve killed me. Then again, if I’d had a family, I probably wouldn’t have been in the business.”

  So Riordan was a protector, a man with a sense of honor. The notion surprised her, considering he’d worked for Robert Naylor.

  “Yet, you became romantically involved with Cassandra Naylor. Did you ever consider what your disappearance did to her?”

  He gave a rueful smile. “No. I was too self-absorbed, worrying about day-to-day survival. Besides, I don’t think I really mattered to her that much. Obviously, she moved on. After three years, anyone would.”

  Natalie made notes on her tablet. Did he have no self-worth? Someone like Riordan would make an excellent agent. Fear wouldn’t enter his mind because he didn’t value his own life enough.

  Now, she understood what Mitchell meant. He didn’t lack self-confidence so much as self-worth.

  If Riordan St. James didn’t love himself, how could he love anyone else?

  “What was your life like growing up?”

  Jumping up from the sofa, he went back to the window. To the outdoors.

  “What does that have to do with my readiness for the field?”

  His reluctance told her they were getting somewhere. “You’re the one that wanted to be here. Therefore, my rules. Remember?”

  Sighing, he spoke to the window. “Since I’ve been back, I’ve had a hard time with rules.”

  “Oh, really?” She uncrossed her legs. “For some reason, I thought that was a lifelong trait.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned at her. “Maybe.”

  They shared a smile, before he turned back to the traffic outside he
r window.

  “Why have you had a hard time with rules?”

  His response came quick. “Because I never want to be in a situation again that I can’t control.”

  Don’t we all? “Don’t you think that’s a bit unrealistic?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But, I also know I’d do anything not to be helpless again.” He lowered his voice. “To me, that was worse than death.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. Riordan had thought himself tough, but Robert Naylor proved he wasn’t as valuable, as dangerous as he’d thought.

  He’d exposed Riordan’s vulnerability.

  “While you were in prison, did you ever think about dying, Riordan?”

  Taking a deep breath, he let it out in a gust. Natalie fought the urge to rise and slip her arms around him. Why did she feel that way with him? Why did he draw her to him like a magnet to steel?

  That kind of thinking had gotten her in trouble with Paul. She couldn’t afford to go there.

  “Yeah, I thought about giving in and just letting them beat me to death.” His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “But, I was so damned pissed off. All I could think about was getting out and finding whoever sent me there.”

  He looked over his shoulder, his blue eyes round with uncertainty and daring. “I wanted revenge, Meeks. Plain and simple. Does that make me crazy? Psychologically unstable?”

  She did rise then. “No.”

  Moving to stand beside him, she gazed into his anguished, turbulent eyes. His height made him appear invincible, his scent hypnotizing. Yet, she felt the overwhelming need to protect him.

  “I’d probably feel the same way, Riordan.”

  Turbulence turned to strong-willed passion in his pastel eyes, his fingertips feather-light against her cheek. “You’d never have to worry about that, Meeks. No matter where you were, I’d find you - and, the revenge would be mine.”

  Her heart pounded wildly against her ribs, like a mad, caged animal. God help her. She couldn’t breathe with his touch on her skin.

  This was absolutely crazy. How did she fight this idiotic attraction she had for him when he talked like a superhero and vowed to avenge her? When he stared at her mouth like he wanted to devour it, and she wanted him to do it?

  “Here we go…” Josie entered the office, water bottle in hand.

  Natalie sprang away from Riordan, heat filling her cheeks. She refused to look Josie’s way, knowing she’d give her a thumbs up or at least a sly grin.

  Riordan, on the other hand, accepted the water with impressive aplomb before Josie left the room.

  How did she face him now, after she’d allowed them to cross that invisible line she knew darn freaking well shouldn’t be crossed?

  Taking a sip of water, he watched her as he swallowed. She glanced away, the curtain tassels at her elbow suddenly fascinating.

  “I lived with my mother and grandfather...”

  Catching her breath, she whipped around to face him. He gave her a small smile as he set down the bottle on the credenza behind the sofa. She couldn’t help but smile back.

  “She died in a car accident when I was eight. After that, I resided in the same house as my grandfather, but he lived for his high. I pretty much raised myself.”

  That explained another facet of Riordan’s character - his survival instinct, his independent nature. He’d never had anyone to depend on but himself.

  She’d learned that lesson, too.

  “So, you took a bath, sent yourself to school each day, made good grades…” Crossing an arm over her middle, she rested her elbow on top.

  Tipping his head to the side, he braced an arm on the window frame and stared outside. “I sent myself to school and made good grades - until I figured out I could get the girls to do my homework for me.” He glanced at her.

  She spoke on a sigh. “Why am I not surprised?”

  His mischievous grin would be the death of her.

  “After that, I spent all of my time in the backseat of my Dodge Challenger, or racing it. I graduated mid-list, and enrolled in the local community college to get a degree in criminal justice.”

  His relaxed features turned dark, his brows lowering into a fierce scowl. “The first week of college, a gang surrounded me in the parking lot after a night class. They wanted my car.”

  Oh no… “Were you scared?”

  “I was pissed.” He spat the last word. “My car was everything to me. I wasn’t about to hand it over without a fight.”

  “What happened?”

  His tone sounded adamant, yet distant. “I leveled them. Once I returned the first punch, it was like a dam had burst inside of me. I didn’t stop swinging until they were all down. When I drove out of that parking lot, I left four unconscious bodies lying on the pavement.” He stared down at his hands. “I shook so hard I had trouble steering my car.”

  Letting his hands fall to his sides, he stared outside again. “The next day, a guy approached me in the same parking lot and asked if I wanted a job as a bodyguard. It paid more money than I’d ever make as a cop, so I took it.” He looked at her, his eyes turned down at the corners. “The business is all I’ve known.”

  The business. As a senator’s daughter, she knew all about the business. No one stood beyond bribery or above blackmail. Yet, something told her Riordan St. James, if given the chance, would choose the right thing if it came down to it.

  “Have you ever struggled with doing the right thing?”

  A hurricane swirled in his eyes, his nostrils flared. “When I got back and they told me Robert Naylor was responsible for sending me away, all I could think about was getting strong enough to kill him. Naylor’s death was one hundred percent premeditated. I flat out knew what I was doing. That should tell you everything.”

  Natalie caught her breath. A part of her didn’t want to believe it. Another knew him capable of that and more. He’d proven to be the toughest, most daring man she’d ever met.

  Knowing he’d killed his enemy didn’t shock her as much as his defensive tone. Riordan had satisfied his thirst for revenge and killed Robert Naylor.

  However, where revenge had resided for so long, guilt, heavy and dark, remained.

  “How did it happen?”

  Riordan ran his fingers through his newly-cut hair. “It was a team effort. The other three super agents entered the compound to draw out Naylor. I set up on the roof, waiting for him to arrive. Once he showed up, the bastard actually got into a fist fight with his own son.”

  Riordan shook his head, apparently deep in memories. “When I got a clear shot, I took it.” He stared at his hands again. “I knew I’d hit my mark. My new hands were steady.” He stopped to look at her. “I could’ve made him suffer, Meeks, but I didn’t. I went for the head shot, more to put Dar out of his misery than to give Naylor a quick, easy death.”

  Anguish and self-admonishment thickened his voice. Riordan had killed Robert Naylor but his death hadn’t given him the satisfaction he’d sought.

  “How did you feel afterwards?”

  He glared at her. “I was pissed off.”

  “Why?”

  His brows lifted high on his forehead. “Why? I’d just taken a life. How did you expect me to feel?”

  She softened her voice. “Let me put it this way. How did you expect to feel?”

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t know. Satisfied, maybe?”

  “And were you?”

  His solemn blue gaze roamed over her face. “No.”

  He’d been honest with her.

  She spoke the next words with care as her gaze gauged his reaction. “Do you think, maybe, you wanted answers more than revenge?”

  He started shaking his head before she finished her question. “No, Natalie. I had to get back at him. It’s all I’d thought about for three, freaking years.”

  “And, you did. He’s dead. But, obviously, it didn’t make you feel any better.”

  Hands on hips, he turned to stare at her dead-o
n. “I’ll never feel better again, Natalie. He took that away from me. But, I brought relief to his kids and the others that he’d hurt like me, and I did help save Dar’s life. It wasn’t a totally selfish act.”

  A good man, acting like a bad one. That’s the life he’d lived.

  Riordan had waged an internal struggle of right and wrong, his moral code telling him murder was wrong, his pride and self-worth shoving him toward revenge. She firmly believed that if Naylor hadn’t been a danger to the others, he wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. His own suffering wouldn’t have been enough to justify it.

  As for feeling better, Natalie knew no one that deserved happiness or contentment more. He may come off as an outspoken hard ass, but inside, Riordan carried more integrity and gallantry than anyone she knew.

  Apparently, Cassandra Naylor saw that.

  “So, Naylor had a physical fight with his own son yet, he cared for his daughter so much that he imprisoned a man he didn’t approve of?” Tilting her head, she pursed her lips. “Was she a daddy’s girl?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Hardly. Naylor didn’t give a shit about Cassandra or d’Artagnan. He’d raised them under an iron fist and emotional abuse.”

  Natalie frowned to herself. “Something doesn’t add up, Riordan. If he didn’t care about his children, Cassandra in particular, why would he go to the trouble of getting rid of you?”

  #####

  That afternoon, Natalie strolled into her office and shut the door. Her father stood at the window, staring out at the traffic while he talked on the phone. His hand rubbed the white hair at the back of his head, his narrow shoulders tense.

  “Yes, dammit. When I get back tonight, I’d better have some answers.”

  A feeling of apprehension swirled in her stomach. Dan Meeks didn’t let much ruffle him.

  Today, he sounded downright anxious.

  Standing in the middle of her office, Natalie cleared her throat. Her father whipped around. Worry shown in the creased brows and deep lines of his face. Pressing a button, he shoved his phone into his breast pocket.

  “Kitten, I want you to stay away from Riordan St. James.”

  Shutting her eyes, Natalie let out a sigh. After years of working for her father, Josie still felt the need to report to him. Never mind, doctor/patient confidentiality.