Civil attorney Shannon Joyce walks the line of law and order, but she learned from day one how to put up a good front—thanks to her con man father. Thirteen years ago, she fled the east coast and her life of crime. Sadly, her high school sweetheart, Noah, became collateral damage. But now there’s no escape when her past comes back to haunt her.
Special Agent Noah Monroe has Shannon exactly where he wants her—handcuffed in the back of his car. With her grifter father murdered, the FBI need Shannon to keep one of his scams in play, so as to trap the bigger fish who was financing him. Again a pawn in someone’s else game, Shannon will have to trust her instincts to survive both the danger she know faces—and the passion Noah reignites…
Chapter One
If Shannon Joyce had learned anything in life, it was never to argue with the guy who’d just slapped handcuffs on your wrists. But this wasn't just any guy and these weren't those kinds of handcuffs.
"Are you crazy?" she hissed. "I haven't seen you in thirteen years and the first thing you say to me is 'you're under arrest'?"
The asshole said nothing.
She kicked the back of his car seat. "Noah Monroe, don't ignore me."
"Stop that," he tossed her over his shoulder. "Or I'll add damaging federal property to the list."
He was toying with her. "I am scared," she said with a derisive snort. "Even if I did kill JJ, which I didn't, what do the feds have to do with it?” This couldn’t be happening. The career she’d worked her butt off to have—the clients who depended on her—would go down the toilet with this bogus charge.
READ MOREAfter she'd gotten over the initial shock of Noah’s phone call this morning, she'd had to deal with his telling her JJ was dead. Was she supposed to mourn dear old daddy’s demise? JJ Lewis was scum. Lower than scum. He’d swindled people. Good, honest folks, and he'd dragged her sorry ass into his schemes one too many times. She'd considered killing him herself, would even shake the hand of whoever had done it, but it wasn't her. She'd left that degenerate behind when she was sixteen, and only recently had she discovered he wasn't in jail, where he belonged. She wasn't sorry to hear someone had finally given him what he deserved—a one-way ticket to a wicked bonfire.
"Evidence says different," Noah said, ignoring her question.
If stares could kill, he'd have a hundred daggers sticking out of his head. "What evidence?" When he didn't answer again, she went on the defensive. Later she'd panic. "I know my rights."
"You should also know to wait for an attorney."
"I am an attorney." One who was going to sue someone's ass off if word of this got out. Luckily, no one had been around when the dumbass had taken out his handcuffs. She'd worked too hard to have her reputation ruined by the death of a man whose one good deed in life was leaving her alone for thirteen years. Not that he'd done it voluntarily. She'd made damn sure that bastard couldn't find her. Or so she’d thought.
"You're a civil attorney. Murder is a crime, and if you didn't already know, it's not wise to defend yourself."
To think, she’d once loved this guy. "You have no authority to arrest me, and I have nothing to defend myself against," she argued, squirming while trying to get comfortable with her hands behind her back. "Plus, you know very well I didn't kill him."
"I don't know any such thing."
Now he was just taunting her and she didn't care for it. "How? How do you not know?" What did they have on her? "And why the hell didn’t you tell me that over the phone this morning, instead of going on about JJ getting involved in yet another con."
"If you hadn't blown me off, Ms. Joyce, I'd have explained things to you."
Either he was mad that she'd hung up on him or he didn't like that she was going by Joyce instead of Lewis. Which didn't make any sense. Why would he care? He'd have to be a complete idiot not to figure that one out. Why would she keep the name of the man who’d caused her so much grief?
"The last thing I wanted to hear about was another of JJ's get-rich schemes. What that asshole does…did, is none of my business." Not anymore. Even back then she hadn't much cared.
The light turned yellow. He made no attempt to stop. She hated when people did that. Was he in that much of a rush to put her behind bars? Was this as simple as a thirteen-year grudge? He didn't have to share probable cause for the arrest; still, they had dated for two years. They'd been kids. But you weren't supposed to forget the first person you made love to, the first person you'd given your soul to. She hadn't.
She’d left small-town Tweedsmuir under the protection of night, but she'd known exactly what she was leaving behind. She wasn't only running away from an abusive father and her part in a man's death, she was forgoing the love of her life—him. There hadn’t been another option. They were so young. She gave his seat another kick, hating that he'd called her. Hating that he'd brought up feelings she'd forced herself to forget. Talking to him had been bad enough; seeing him had torn her in two. She'd nearly been dumb enough to throw her arms around him—then he'd arrested her.
"Ms. Joyce, failing to cooperate with a federal agent won't do you any good."
"Ms. Joyce? Ms. Joyce." He really was asking for it. She leaned forward as far as her seat belt would allow, as close to his arrogant face as possible. "Okay, Stick-up-the-ass Agent Monroe—"
"That's Special Agent Monroe."
He'd failed to mention that when he'd called. "Special at what? Being a dickhead?" She'd shared her darkest secrets with him, things she'd never even told Maggie. Why was he treating her this way?
"No," he said smugly. "Financial fraud task force."
Shannon stopped breathing, and for a few seconds she swore her heart didn't beat. Numbly, she slid back onto the seat. Was that what this was about? She swallowed and forced her mouth to work. "Fraud?" she asked, grateful her voice hadn't broken.
"Yes, Ms. Joyce. You know, the kind where innocent people lose their money…or worse."
The bastard; how could he be so cruel? She'd been a stupid kid. Her father had conned her the way he'd conned those people.
She could tell herself that all she wanted. Reality was, she hadn't been that dumb. She'd known what she and JJ were doing. Her blame lay in not doing something about it sooner, or realizing the consequences could prove deadly. It was only money. Or so she'd naïvely thought. Until it was too late.
"Nothing to say, Ms. Joyce?" The light turned red and this time he stopped.
The asshole was enjoying this. "Stop calling me Ms. Joyce. I know how big your dick is. So put it away and start talking to me." Enough was enough.
While he said nothing, white knuckles on his steering wheel said she'd hit a nerve. Whether because he didn't like being reminded they'd been naked together or something else was anyone's guess. Either way, she decided to try a new tactic. "Did I hurt you so badly this is your way of getting even?"
"Hurt?" he said, feigning ignorance. "If you're referring to our childhood…thing, I got over that the day after you left."
Sure he did. And she was Mother Teresa. This was getting her nowhere. But like hell was he getting the last word. "Keep telling yourself that," she muttered. She decided to bite her tongue for the rest of the drive until, glancing out the window, she realized she'd been too busy being a hellcat to notice they were on the wrong road. "Are you lost? Doesn't the government give you GPS?"
"I know exactly where I'm going." He took a right turn, the opposite direction from the police station.
What the hell? "Care to share?"
"This could’ve been avoided if you hadn't hung up on me, so no."
No? "Noah." She'd stay calm if it killed her…or she'd get charged for murdering someone for real. "Where are you taking me?"
"In due time. Now, I suggest you sit back and stay quiet, before I add driving a federal agent to the brink of murder to your list of offenses."
Part of her told herself to relax. That was his dumb attempt at humor. So how serious could this be? The other part said he was seriously pissed at her, and maybe she should be worried. Noah might be holding a grudge, but he'd never hurt her. No one changed that much. Then again, she wasn't exactly the same kid who'd run away from home. No one in Tweedsmuir had expected her to amount to anything, let alone an attorney. For now, she'd keep her mouth shut, see how this all played out.
They eventually stopped at the last place she'd expected. The airport. Noah got out of the car and got in the backseat with her.
"What's going on?" She should be sitting in an interrogation room, not visitors' parking at the airport. "Is my father really dead?" May God have mercy on her soul, but she hoped so.
Noah nodded once.
"How did he die?"
He lifted a dark eyebrow.
"Cut it out. You know damn well I didn't kill him." She wasn’t a liar, not anymore. "Am I glad he's gone to a far worse place?" She shrugged. He'd not only screwed up her life but countless others’. His victims were in the thousands, if not more. "But when I left him, he was alive." Not very happy but alive.
"When would that be?" he asked.
She considered telling him to go bungee jumping without a harness, then thought better of it. She had nothing to hide. "Two days ago."
"What did the two of you discuss?"
"The weather." Jerk. Thirteen years ago she'd have told Noah everything. Thirteen years ago he hadn’t been a special agent assigned to a task force that could put her behind bars. No way would she admit to her father extorting money from her.
"Shannon, even if you and I didn't know you hated the guy, the only time he ever talked to you was to coerce you into one of his schemes. What was it this time?"
She nodded pensively, staring at the ass sitting beside her. "Now it's Shannon? A few minutes ago it was Ms. Joyce." On the phone he'd called her Shannon, as if he'd phoned to catch up instead of wanting to discuss her scumbag father. "What? Are you playing good cop/bad cop with yourself?"
He grinned. "Always the smart mouth."
COLLAPSE