Jordan’s Deliverance Read online

  Jordan’s Deliverance

  By

  Tiffany Monique

  When Jordan Anderson is asked to assist Michael Sinchester in “popping the question” to her old college friend, Audra Lang, she’s happy to assist in any way possible. The one downfall is that while Jordan is knee-deep in romantic scheming, she’s also stuck working side-by-side with Michael’s best man, running errands, arranging plans, and being an all-around gopher for the happy couple.

  From the moment Riordan Deliverance arrives with Audra’s custom engagement ring, Jordan is in a constant state of arousal and annoyance. She wants to wring his sexy, tanned throat, smack his chiseled, strong jaw and punch him in his laughing blue eyes. What about this man screams chaos to her? Why is she running like a rabbit from a wolf? Every nerve in her body is drawn to him, so why would every brain cell tell her danger is near?

  Riordan is a master strategist, the man the U.S. intelligence community depends on to keep the baddies of the world at bay. For the life of him, he can’t understand why Jordan won’t give him the time of day. Luckily, there’s nothing he loves better than solving puzzles. But to solve the mystery of Jordan’s animosity, Riordan will have to lay his own soul bare to save them both.

  Author’s Note: Though Jordan’s Deliverance can be read as a stand-alone book, it was intended as a sequel to Audra’s Sin and should be read in that order to enjoy certain plot and character references.

  Promise to My Dearest Reader,

  I’ve always taken the advice given to Jo March in Little Women by Louisa May Alcott very seriously. Write about what you know. I will always endeavor to give you authenticity in all of my prose. Research is one of the most fulfilling parts of being a writer. A conversation here, a trip to a location there, it all makes for a well-rounded story to you.

  Not to say that I won’t embellish, take some artistic license or put my own unique spin on my stories, as they are my stories, but a grain of universal truth will always be present. That is what I hope speaks to your heart, mind and most importantly your soul. From never judge a book by its cover to what happens in the dark always comes out in the light there are certain invaluable lessons that are universal. One invaluable truth will always be present in each of my books; with a little sacrifice, some perseverance and a bucket load of laughter, love conquers all.

  Whether I transport your imagination to another city, another country or another world; leave it to The Heiress of Eros to lay the life-jewels of love and passion at your feet. Let’s take a journey together, with a side of diamonds…

  Please feel free to follow me on Facebook at AuthorTiffanyMonique! I love to hear from readers!

  All My Love,

  Tiffany Monique

  The Heiress of Eros

  Dedication:

  To Jeanie, Jayha and The Omlettry Crew – Thank you for your support, every day, all day. Writers make wonderful friends. J

  To Nathan Moore and David Woodall - Good Luck on your new adventure NOLA Besties! The character David is because of you! Thank you for being my crazy, helpful, supportive family when I needed it!

  Contents

  Chapter One. 7

  Chapter Two. 12

  Chapter Three. 17

  Chapter Four 21

  Chapter Five. 27

  Chapter Six. 29

  Chapter Seven. 34

  Chapter Eight 45

  Chapter Nine. 50

  Chapter Ten. 55

  Chapter Eleven. 59

  Chapter One

  Jordan Anderson had always been a confident individual. She tried to stay in tune with herself: mind, body and spirit. Tried being the operative word. Every pecan-colored curve, every jet-black coil of hair and every morning prayer was a lesson in appreciating life for the gift it was. She had no time for the foolish or foolhardy and made that abundantly clear in both friendship and romance. Her home was a haven of Zen and her store, Mother Earth, May I, was a mecca for the nature-centric consumer. Surrounded by almond oil, jasmine blossoms and Egyptian cotton, she was totally at peace with how her life was constructed. Peace and structure were her keys for success—without them she was the proverbial leaf in the wind. And flying by the seat of her pants had always ended up in disaster for her.

  She’d even had the same two best friends for the last fifteen years and was fine with that. In fact, one of them was getting married in six weeks. But as much as she loved Audra Lang, being her maid of honor was getting on Jordan’s last inch of nerve. Leaning against the trunk of Audra’s, brand new Audi A8, Jordan absently flicked her cigarette, listening to Audra’s angry words filter outside.

  “I told you the cake tasting was today, Michael! Do you want me to do this by myself? Uh huh…uh huh… Well, you and my father can damn well marry each other for all I care because apparently your security meeting is more import— No! No! I will not calm down! I’m uncomfortable, pregnant and waiting in a hot-ass car in the middle of DC, with Jordan, ready to taste a cake that’s gonna make me sick any damn way…”

  Jordan absently scrolled through her text messages waiting for the storm to die down. Normally, Audra was the most even-tempered, logical woman she knew, almost to the point of being cautious, but hormones and a pending wedding had been taking her to hell and back for the last several weeks.

  After placing her cell phone back in her purse and finishing her cigarette (her remaining vice from her college days), Jordan tapped on the tinted window to mouth you ready? Audra waved her back into the car after tossing her phone into the back seat in disgust.

  Jordan slid in, looked back at the phone and asked cheekily, “Trouble in paradise?”

  “He’s an asshole. I’m marrying an insensitive asshole,” Audra stated, staring blindly at the front door of D’amore Bakery.

  Jordan chuckled at the absurdity of Audra’s comment. Everyone who knew them knew Michael Sinchester would level a country for Audra without a second thought. She was just an emotional wreck, and planning a society wedding during the first trimester of her pregnancy was an absolutely wretched idea.

  “I told you to just go to a justice of the peace, Audie. You can do all this fanciness later. It’s not going to make one bit of difference to Michael. He’d marry you in my mechanic’s garage if he had to,” Jordan consoled.

  “That’s not the point. He wanted this whirlwind romance, dammit. Now he’s got me and every bit of my stubborn streak. He’s said, and I quote, ‘my child is not entering the world a bastard’ so we pushed up the date up. I said fine but I’m doing it right the first time. I’m also not going to walk down the aisle looking like I’m carrying a bread basket in the front of my dress,” Audra snapped.

  “Bread basket? Really?” teased Jordan. “How about a watermelon? A small bag of laundry? Maybe a honeydew?”

  Audra looked over at her dearest girlfriend. “You know you’re certifiable, right?”

  “Yeah, they’ve said that,” answered Jordan. “So is he going to be able to get out of his meeting with your dad, or are we on our own?”

  “Doubtful. I thought retirement was going to be a time when Dad was going to relax and enjoy life, not consult for Michael’s security firm. Between him, Michael, and Riordan you’d think the world was on the brink of war every damn day.”

  “Okay, first of all, yes, the world is on the brink of war, somewhere, every day. Two, can we say losing perspective? Clearly your hormones have overridden all your common sense. If your fiancé is ex-FBI and your dad has senior level FBI clearance and your father flew in from Massachusetts upon Michael’s request yesterday, something big must be happening. Michael’s leaving his flagship office in DC to his VP of Operations and moving to New Orleans to open a satellite office—for you, I might add—in two m
onths. That’s kind of a big deal. Then last and definitely least, Riordan ‘pain in my ass’ Deliverance is CIA, so you are always going to have the entire captain-save-a hoe club messing up your best-laid plans for a normal life. There will always be a bad guy to catch or a client to protect. Just get used to it now. Be glad that your dad and Michael have patched things up after hearing how your dad kept the miscarriage from him.”

  “It’s a wonder what a little counseling can do, huh?” Audra sighed. “Yeah, maybe I’m being a little too emotional about cake. It’s just that I want things to go perfectly the first time. When I lost the baby years ago, I never thought I would have Michael in my life again—that we would have the happily-ever-after. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s a little too good to be true and I’m scared, I think.”

  “Aww, sweetie, you have nothing to be scared about. You and Michael were destined to be together, and now things are finally falling into place. You’re getting married in DC, which conveniently enough is the city I live in, woo-hoo for me. You’re honeymooning in the food capitals of the world: New Orleans, Rome, Lyon, Istanbul, and Hong Kong. Um, le sigh. And since preggers newlyweds can’t drink, he’s gonna feed you and fuck you into a blissful, international stupor! That’s amazing! I will even admit I’m a little jealous. I can’t wait for my knight in shining armor... I’m going to shut up now before I fall into the single-woman hell that is loneliness,” Jordan said wistfully.

  Audra smirked, checking her make-up in the rear-view mirror and touching up her gloss. “Riordan seems to be very attentive.”

  Jordan turned, slack-jawed, in the passenger seat.

  “Has the baby sucked all the nutrients from your brain? I want nothing to do with that blond lothario with a chick in every port. Besides, he does everything he can to get under my skin and thinks it’s funny. Being a clown is not the way to my heart. I’ll keep giving him the same side-eye I’ve been giving him for the last four months. Trust me.”

  Audra laughed as she dropped her gloss back into her purse.

  “Well, if you change your mind and find six feet, two inches of blond, Nordic godliness with a great sense of humor and massive guns sexy, you let me know. I’ll see what I can do. Now, let’s go attack this butter cream and chocolate challenge.”

  Jordan rolled her eyes and threw her car door open.

  “I repeat, Barnum and Bailey, grade-A clown… Wait, did you say butter cream? Does it have strawberries…?.”

  ***

  Washington DC–Across Town

  “Pick up the phone, Sin,” Riordan whispered harshly into the cell phone. “Where’s your friend when you need him?”

  He quickly dismantled the high-powered sniper rifle and slammed his case closed. They were in the elevator, and that meant he had two minutes to make it out the east window. Shit! He tossed the gun case over his shoulder and swung his leg over the window sill. The hotel room door slammed open with a crash.

  “Drop your weapon!” the officers yelled.

  Riordan looked back, and with a cocky smirk, rolled a smoke screen canister into the center of the room.

  “Catch me if you can, gentlemen,” he called out, as he dropped out the window.

  By the time the officers raced to the window to see what direction the mystery sniper was running, Riordan had leapt off the fire escape and was racing into the busy crowds of tourists in the nation’s capital.

  Chapter Two

  Agent Riordan Deliverance tossed the janitor disguise into the nearest dumpster eighteen blocks from his most recent job. Taking a guitar case from the trunk of a non-descript 2002 Cadillac Seville, he slipped his smaller rifle case inside. He pulled the worn Red Sox hat over his blond locks and disappeared into DC’s busy metro station. The sniper job had been a distraction. He was rarely sent on missions in order to shoot to kill. That was Michael’s job as a fed. Riordan was a strategist. His team had to find a way to place surveillance equipment inside four offices in the Chinese consulate. What better way to do that than fake an assassination attempt on the Chinese Consul General? The building would be in chaos during shutdown provisions, and no one would notice a few extra security guards checking on the safety of the office’s administration. He was sure this went against some UN regulation, but if the rest of the world played fair there wouldn’t be any use for intelligence agencies, and he would be somewhere winning chess tournaments for fun.

  As Riordan settled back in his seat on the Metro he stretched his long legs out in front of him and pretended to sleep with his head down. His image of a ne’er-do-well musician was complete down to the worn Vans sneakers and the tight black tee. When a twenty-something blonde in a waitress uniform slid three seats down to sit directly across from him he raised the brim of his hat an inch or two. She dropped her backpack close to his guitar case and grazed her hand over her cleavage, bringing his attention to the waitress uniform that was unbuttoned rather low. She leaned over slowly in order to showcase her goods to their best advantage. He smirked at her endearing efforts to be seductive and gave her a wink and a hint of a dimpled smile before lowering his hat brim again. She was attractive in that barfly type of way but his tastes had recently begun leaning toward soft curves, intelligent eyes, and rich, dark skin.

  Historically, he had never met a woman that he didn’t like or at least appreciated for whatever special gifts God had given her. He could always find the silver lining in every woman, be it her talent, her wit, her soft skin, or her figure. And women ultimately fell under his spell.

  Until Jordan Anderson. She couldn’t stand the sight of him. He might as well be mud on her shoe, oil on her pizza, the foam she blows off her beer. Didn’t she know his mother told him he was a catch! He just didn’t get it. He’d never done anything to her! And maybe that was her problem. Ms. America didn’t have anyone to shake up her life. Someone who could pull sighs of pleasure from those fully pouty lips or spread those luscious thighs every morning. If she could sheath that venomous tongue for more than a minute, he would be happy to show her more pleasurable ways to use it.

  At every function Michael had invited him to, he’d seen her with a different companion, all attractive and seemingly successful. He’d just never seen her with anyone consistently. Consistently enough to be taken to her bed, that is. At least he hoped she wasn’t taking those jokers to bed. The idea she would give herself so freely made him want to do a constant surveillance of her bedroom or, better yet, safe house her in his Vermont cabin till she agreed to behave.

  As his stop approached he smoothly swung the guitar case over his shoulder and made his way toward the sliding doors. The waitress raised her head and smiled, crossing her legs slowly, giving him a complete view of her pale, thin thighs. When she placed her hand inside her backpack pocket, pulled out a phone and mouthed call me, he chuckled. He placed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill.

  “Thanks for the show, sweetheart. Here’s a tip and some advice. Don’t tease strange men in subways. Not everyone’s as harmless as I am.”

  He smiled and exited the train, jogging toward the nearest federal building to debrief and meet Michael for drinks.

  ***

  “She becomes a basket case at the drop of a dime, man. I don’t get it,” said Michael Sinchester, CEO of Sinchester Securities. “Things that never bothered her before set her off like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’ve been in warzones with less shrapnel than my living room walls. One minute she’s furious, the next minute she’s crying in the middle of the floor and telling me she loves me. I know it’s the baby but damn.”

  Riordan smiled and pulled out his phone.

  “What are you doing?” asked Michael.

  “I’m texting Alexi and Flynn. I’m informing our best friends you’ve gone from the cold hard-ass we know and love to a mushy punk-ass who cries at commercials. Smile, I’m taking a picture to send to them so they can remember the man you used to be,” Riordan teased, raising his phone to focus on Michael.

>   Michael leaned over the small bar table, quickly snatching the phone from Riordan’s hand.

  “Stop being a jackass. Remember I’m your link to the ever-elusive Jordan Anderson. You fuck me over and you can light that opportunity on fire. She’s not giving you a chance and unless you need a foot in your ass and a ‘go screw yourself’ I’d say you’re out of luck. I believe the last thing I heard her say to you at our Jack and Jill bridal shower was ‘If you were the last man on earth I would jump species.’ You need help, buddy. Admit it.”

  “I don’t need you to get me a date, my man, I’m perfectly capable of handling one woman and getting what I need,” Riordan countered.

  “I’m warning you, though, if she is just a challenge and you’re gonna chew and screw then leave me out of it. One, I’d rather not know she’s a notch on your bedpost and two, Audra would beat the living hell of me if I had anything to do with you breaking her friend’s heart.” Michael sipped his beer and smiled knowingly. “And on the extremely high chance you get shot down again and you want to truly know what kind of obstacles you’re working with, I have a file in my laptop with her name on it. It’s all yours.”

  Riordan paused with the beer at his lips. What the hell was Sin doing with a file on his woman? Oh, wait, she wasn’t his woman. Did he want her to be his woman? Did this go that deep? Thoughtfully, he put those questions aside, deciding at the very least to tack on a few official dates with Jordan before he dragged her back to his cave by her hair, grunting and beating his chest.