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The Spy Who Saved Christmas
Dana Marton


“They’re my boys, too, Lara.”
“We’ll get them back tonight, right? And then this will all be over and everything will go back to the way it was before.”
The way it was before. Her and the boys in one place and him living a fake life somewhere far away, deep undercover. “Sure.”
She gave him a smile that warmed his heart. “We make a good team, don’t we?” There was something in her eyes…
He knew without a doubt that danger lay ahead for both of them. They couldn’t pretend that if they gave into temptation, it would lead somewhere this time.
“What we have here…” He paused. “Don’t overestimate it, okay?” He was warning her off, even though he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. “To get those boys back, you would have teamed up with the devil.”
“Maybe I did.”

The Spy Who Saved Christmas
Dana Marton


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dana Marton is the author of more than a dozen fast-paced, action-adventure romantic suspense novels and a winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence. She loves writing books of international intrigue, filled with dangerous plots that try her tough-as-nails heroes and the special women they fall in love with. Her books have been published in seven languages in eleven countries around the world. When not writing or reading, she loves to browse antiques shops and enjoys working in her sizable flower garden, where she searches for “bad” bugs with the skills of a superspy and vanquishes them with the agility of a commando soldier. Every day in her garden is a thriller. To find more information on her books, please visit www.danamarton.com. She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached via e-mail at DanaMarton@DanaMarton.com.

CAST OF CHARACTERS
Reid Graham —A lone-wolf commando soldier, on loan from the SDDU to the FBI. Reid became the best by making sure he had nothing to lose. When his past rises up and suddenly there’s more at stake than he could have ever imagined, it might just be his undoing.
Lara Jordan —When a domestic terrorist cell kidnaps her twin sons, she has no one to turn to but Reid, a man whose secret life she’s only beginning to understand. He’s clear about one thing—when the mission is over, he’ll leave again. The smartest thing she can do is make sure she doesn’t fall in love with him.
Kenny Briggs —Moving up in the ranks of the cell, Kenny wants to take down the government as badly as he wants to avenge his father’s death. And he has the full support of his family.
Joey Briggs —The middle brother, Joey, is fully on board with their plans, and his past experience with demolitions should come in handy.
Jimmy Sparks —Is he simply another member of the group, or is he something more?
Cade Palmer —Retired SDDU soldier, Cade is at the right place at the right time to help Reid.
Colonel Wilson —Head of the Special Designation Defense Unit.
SDDU —Special Designation Defense Unit, a top-secret military team established to fight terrorism. Its existence is known by only a select few. Members are recruited from the best of the best.

Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue

Chapter One
His hands were stained and rough-skinned. Large. They were the hands that testosterone hath made, she would think later, when she could think. His grip was all male and possessive. His fingers dug into the pale skin at her hips.
Something in her responded to him. Everything in her responded to him.
“You have that wild streak of your grandmother’s, Lara Jordan.” Her mother had poured her disapproval on Lara every chance she got. “Mark my words, girls like you come to a bad end,” she used to say, then would add with a disgusted glare, “every time.”
Lara had fought that parental prejudice all her life, only to realize now that her mother had been right. At the urging of the man who was kissing all common sense from her, she lay back on the wood-topped table—flour dust be damned—and let him situate himself between her legs.
She was twenty-two, alone in life for the first time, and she was about to lose her virginity to the most dangerous man she’d ever set eyes on. And she couldn’t claim for a moment that he’d seduced her. She was the one who’d strolled over to his bakery next door with a trumped up excuse, after hours.
“Here we are, the butcher and the baker,” she said just so there’d be something in the air beyond their panting.
He licked a fiery trail down her neck and stopped to press his hot lips against her racing pulse. “If a candlestick maker tries to interrupt, I won’t be held responsible.”
They groaned together at the lame play on the nursery rhyme.
She didn’t know any candlestick makers, but she thought she might have found the candlestick.
Oh, my.
Her skirt came up. Her panties slipped away. His mouth scorched her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra. She ran her fingers over the corded muscles of his back. He was almost a full head taller than she and built like a brick oven. She was built like, well, like a butcher, but she felt feminine next to him, desirable in his hot gaze from the beginning.
When she’d decided to take over and run the butcher shop she’d inherited from her uncle, she’d considered that she might be getting in over her head. She had no idea how deep. But this was the life she wanted—adventure, challenge, and not the staid, average existence her mother had lived, where every move was dictated by rules and more rules. She was going to be wild and free.
The man between her legs lifted his head, his dark gaze burning into hers. He said one word only, “Mine.”
“Yes,” she whispered as he pushed inside her with incredible restraint.
They’d known each other for a week.
Two years later…
THE DAY HAD BEEN GOING to hell in a handbasket even before his past decided to rise up and spit into his face. Undercover agent Reid Graham watched with mixed emotions as Lara Jordan walked in on the arm of a corporate stiff whose suit cost more than his monthly government salary.
Of all the restaurants in all the world, and she walks into this one. Tonight of all nights.
Lust and anger hit him in the gut in about equal doses. Lust, because the memory of their one night two years before was still his number-one favorite fantasy. Anger because a single word from her could blow his cover and jeopardize an operation in which he’d invested years’ worth of sweat and blood. One wrong word could easily get the both of them killed. And not just them. He glanced around the crowded dining room, frowning at the people, who could go from innocent bystanders to victims in the blink of an eye.
Dammit.
“So you’re definitely not a cop.” Jen, the coldly beautiful blonde sitting across the table from him, played with her food.
“Hell no, darlin’.” He wasn’t lying. Technically. “I’m a friend of a friend.” He gave her an easy, relaxed smile. “Hey, I’ve been where you are now. Gets easier. Believe me.”
Soft Christmas music danced through the air, the room filled with the scent of pine. The walls were decorated with about two dozen Christmas wreaths, each labeled, showcasing contest winners from local schools.
He pretended to be scanning the holiday decorations while he stole another glance at Lara. She was laughing up at her guy, her face lit like a Christmas tree. Her hair was shorter than two years ago, her impossible curls swinging around her jawline, leaving her creamy neck out there for everyone to see.
Something deep inside his gut twisted.
“I want out.” Jen put down her fork. “I want to disappear. I’m not handing the CD over until I get that guarantee. And I want money.”
“Let me work on that.” Tonight, he was Dave Marshall, a shady figure who operated in the gray area between the two worlds of right and wrong, with connections in each. “Got anything to prove that you’re serious about this?”
She glanced around, then pulled a black cell phone from her purse, slid it across the table. “It’s Kenny’s backup phone. I pretended that mine broke and borrowed it for today.”
He palmed the phone and stuck it into his jeans pocket. “I’ll have it back to you by morning. How you doin’, darling?”
She glanced down, her hand going to her still flat belly. “He doesn’t know. I’m not gonna tell him either. He took up with that bitch. The jerk thinks he can keep us both.” She gave a disgusted snort. Then a sigh. “My sister knows.” She moved her hand back onto the table.
For a second her shirt gaped, and he could see the small firearm she carried. A good reminder that she was more than a frightened pregnant woman who was trying to leave her two-timing terrorist boyfriend. She wasn’t exactly as pure as the driven snow, although she was playing the damsel in distress to the hilt.
“I only got involved in the whole mess because of him.” She put a touch of vulnerability in her voice. “You can get me out by this time tomorrow, right? Before they notice the CD is missing. Dr. Julie said you can do anything.” She flashed him a smile that promised carnal benefits as his success fee.
Dr. Julie Lantos—emergency care provider for injured criminals who preferred to avoid hospitals, and an informant on the side—had referred him to Jen. Dr. Julie had an illegal drug habit that her shady patients supported, and the FBI agent she passed information to overlooked.
Reid leaned back in his chair and smiled right back at Jen. She was hot and she knew it. She was used to running with men who could get her exactly what she wanted. If becoming her new best friend—or more—was what he had to do to get information on the sleeper cell he was investigating, then so be it. It wouldn’t be the worst sacrifice he’d ever had to make for his job.
She straightened her back. Her D-cups jutted out even farther, the glittering tank top she wore under the open shirt stretching enough to show a clear outline of her nipples.
Maybe if Lara hadn’t been in the room, seven tables down by the window, he would have been more impressed. But she was there, and she threw him off his game. So instead of suggesting to Jen that they go someplace private to talk some more, he asked, “How about dessert?” And told himself that he was only stalling because if he stood up he might draw Lara’s attention.
When Jen’s foot ran up his leg under the table, he sighed with weariness and pretended it was pleasure. If it came down to it, if it was the only way to get her to talk, he would sleep with her. The terrorist group he was investigating was in the endgame of something big. They were ready to make their move, and he still didn’t have any idea what was going down or where.
Even if hitting the sack with Jen meant ending his career, or that she couldn’t be prosecuted because he would have messed up her case, he would do it to save lives. That was his priority. And he was determined to keep his eyes on the prize. He’d been in the business too long to toe any line without asking questions, to obey any rules that went against his better judgment. Too many lives had been lost. He’d taken too many lives. Something inside him desperately needed to make up for that. He would do whatever he had to do this time. There were no limits.
If only Lara would get up now and walk away.
Instead, she looked up and straight at him, blinked once, hard, before her eyes grew wide with shock, her face going pale.
“Hey, you know what?” He pushed to standing. “Forget dessert. Let’s go someplace more private.”
Jen picked up her purse and stood at once. She was game.
He left a couple of twenties on the table, enough to cover their dinner, tip and then some. Jen’s smile widened as she put on her coat. Whatever anticapitalist principles the cell embraced, she sure didn’t look like she was the enemy of money.
Lara was standing, too, saying something to her date, her eyes still on Reid. She looked softer, a little curvier than he’d remembered. She moved forward, her elegant black silk dress clinging to a body that had nothing to do with planklike photo models and everything to do with filling a man’s hands in the most perfect way.
He shrugged into his jacket, took Jen’s arm and pulled her behind him toward the door.
Lara’s step faltered. Then she gathered herself and kept coming toward him.
He figured the distance to his car. They weren’t going to make it. The gig would be up the second Lara called his real name, Reid instead of Dave. They were at the door. Through it. He scanned the parking lot that took up one full block.
The lights of the city blocked out the stars in the sky. The buzz of New York filled the air, the sound of millions of cars and people. To the locals, it was a beloved symphony. The tourists usually found it energizing and exciting. The constant buzz annoyed the hell out of him. How was a guy supposed to hear his enemies coming?
He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Hey, why don’t you get in the car? I better pop into the bathroom before we leave. I’ll be back out in a minute.”
Jen pulled her coat together as she reached for the keys.
Then several things happened at the same time.
Lara came out the door—sooner than he’d expected. Could be she had run. She wrapped her arms around herself as the wind hit her. “Reid? What are you—”
Her voice was lost in tires squealing as a dark SUV whipped up to the sidewalk and two masked men, one in the passenger seat and one in back, opened fire.
Reid dove for Lara, vaguely aware of Jen hitting the ground like a pro behind him. He gathered Lara against his body and rolled for cover behind a massive sign that advertised the restaurant.
A bullet penetrated the sign just an inch from his face, a good reminder that flimsy barricades, car doors and such, only stopped bullets in the movies. But at least the cover kept the shooters from being able to take exact aim.
When the shots had quieted for a second, he stuck his head out. The SUV was backing up to get closer to them. He shoved to his feet and yanked Lara up, dragging her behind him, lunging for cover behind the closest car, then the next and the next as bullets pinged around them. Then he was by his own car at last, and the next second they were inside, and then he was driving, getting the hell out of there, having momentary advantage in going forward while their pursuers had to drive in reverse.
The last thing he saw before he shot out onto the busy boulevard was the dark SUV turning around to follow, and Jen’s lifeless body in a pool of blood, illuminated by the light over the restaurant’s entrance. An image straight from the scene-ending shot of an old-fashioned thriller.
Except this was real life, dammit. And he had just lost his most promising asset in a top-priority case. His teeth ground together as he stepped on the gas, weaving in and out of traffic.
“Reid?” Lara’s voice sounded uncharacteristically weak.
She was pressed into the seat as far as she could be from him, looking like she was seeing a ghost. Which she was, in a way. As far as she knew, he’d died a little over two years ago, the night he’d lost all control with her at the bakery.
“I don’t understand—”
“Hang on.”
He couldn’t afford to be distracted now. He scanned the rearview mirror and swore under his breath.
He should have shot back at the bastards. If he’d got them, Jen would still be alive, his narrow doorway to the cell still open. If he’d injured them, the FBI could have interrogated them. If he’d shot them dead, fingerprints could have still been collected. Clues. Links to something.
Instead, he’d lost Jen and gained absolutely nothing.
Gained Lara’s life, a small voice said inside. And he found that as badly as he’d messed up tonight’s operation, he couldn’t work up any serious rage. Which didn’t mean that plenty of anger didn’t simmer below the surface.
Still dazed, Lara was straightening in her seat, gathering herself. “But you died in the fire.”
He turned down the next street, took another turn, then another, going in the opposite direction he had been before. He watched his rearview mirror for the dark SUV, but couldn’t see it. “I don’t have time to explain.”
Why in hell did she have to show up in his life now? Why did she have to show up at all? Ever.
She put her seat belt on with hands that were unsteady but not shaky. She had good hands. Working hands. Strong. She was no shrinking violet. Even now, minutes after escaping mortal danger, she was pulling herself together. Lara Jordan was one tough chick. He’d always liked that about her. As much as he ever let himself truly like anything about anyone.
For the most part, he was big on keeping his distance.
Of course, there’d been a time or two when he’d slipped. Like their one night together. He hadn’t made that mistake since. If sex was offered and the time was right, he took it. But he was always up front about what he was and wasn’t willing to give. There was no loss of control, no passionate coming together against all reason with…with a virgin who had stars in her eyes, for heaven’s sake!
His teeth ground together. Between the shoot-out he was leaving behind and the memories that were quickly surfacing, sending heat straight to his groin, he was getting more morose by the minute.
“Where are we going?” Her voice was nearly back to normal.
“Someplace safe,” he bit out, even as his mind worked a mile a minute trying to think of such a place. He could only come up with one. Oh, hell.
“Who were those people?”
He turned left at the next light. “Not now.” They’d finally made it to Brooklyn. He pulled up a familiar street, slowed in front of an unassuming row house, hit the garage opener, pulled in, closed the door behind them immediately.
She peered through the darkness. “Is this where you live?”
“Mostly.” And he’d never, ever brought anyone here before, friend or foe. He would have to move now. Dammit.
He grabbed her hand and dragged her across the seat, out on his side as he left the car. He froze in place for a second when she stumbled against him. “I’m not going to turn on any lights. Just follow me.” Stepping away from her, he punched in the security code then opened the door that led inside.
She tripped a couple of times, not knowing the terrain, but he couldn’t slow for her. He wanted them in the den with its reinforced walls and his arsenal of weapons close by.
“Here.” He stopped by the hall closet and handed her his Kevlar vest. “Put this on.”
She obeyed without a word.
Then they were all the way in. He pushed her down onto the couch and went to stand by the window. The street was quiet. Not that he allowed himself to relax. He’d been in the game far too long to make that mistake.
“What happened back at the restaurant?” she asked.
And he closed his eyes for a second against the voice he hadn’t forgotten in the past two years, the voice that had said, “Yes, oh yes, Reid, please,” as she’d come apart in his arms on the bread table in his bakery, another undercover job that had turned into a disaster.
The muscles clenched low in his belly.
“What are you involved in?” She folded her arms in front of her awkwardly, the vest, a little big on her, limiting range of movement. Moonlight glinted off her full lips, off the dimple in her right cheek.
He turned fully toward the window, getting her out of his peripheral vision. She was nothing to him. A hot memory from his past. There was no reason why the sight of her on his couch, in his house, should bother him at all. She had no power over him.
She could have had. He’d realized that early on. Which was why he’d made the decision to never go back. He took her power away by reducing her to a memory, a sexual fantasy. He could take her out when he wanted to, and he could put her away.
“Are you involved in something bad?” Her voice held a new twinge of nerves.
He gave a short bark of a laugh. “What do you think?”
Silence stretched between them.
“I’d like to go.” Her dress rustled as she stood.
He turned back to her, which was a mistake. The black silk clinging to her thighs did nothing for his focus. He fought the impulse that was pushing him closer to her. “You can’t.”
“Reid—”
“They saw me leave with you. It won’t take long for them to ask a waiter who you were with in the restaurant. Then they’ll go and ask your boyfriend about you.”
He swore under his breath. Somehow, his cover had been blown. The shooters would connect Lara to him. Her boyfriend was probably being worked over right now. Chances were good the poor bastard wouldn’t live to see the morning.
“I need to go home.”
“By now they know where you live. It’s not safe.” He gentled his voice with effort. “You can stay with me.” Until he could get the authorities to take custody of her and figure out long-term protection. Which, he hoped, could be arranged in the next couple of hours. He had to get back out there and find Jen’s CD before anyone else did.
That CD was his holy grail. The cell’s leader had trusted Kenny with its safekeeping. There had to be something on the damned CD that would provide a clue on the planned attack.
“It’s all over now,” he told Lara. For her anyway. For him, there was still a long way to go. “I’ll make sure you’re protected.”
Instead of thanking him for the offered protection, all hell broke loose as she flew at him.
“Why isn’t it safe to go home?” She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, looking ready to tackle him if necessary.
She’d always been a strong woman—had gone to school on a sports scholarship, been sidelined by a knee injury, had taken over her uncle’s butcher shop when the guy had retired.
He captured her wrists, tried to pull her against him to subdue her. Easier said than done. She was almost six feet of wriggling fury.
“They’ll go to your house,” he tried to talk sense into her.
And then she started fighting in earnest, this time to get away from him, her eyes on the door. “Let me go.” Her arms were wheeling like windmill paddles.
“Lara?” He caught an elbow in the chin, and swore under his breath. All he needed was to get his arms around her, but she wouldn’t cooperate.
“I have to get to Zak and Nate.” She kicked him, backward, viciously in the shin.
“Whoever they are, they’ll have to take care of themselves.” How many men did she have in her life?
“Are you crazy?” She screamed the three short words, elbowing him in the chest this time, doing her best to cause permanent damage. “They’re babies.”
Babies.
The guy at the restaurant was probably her husband. A cold sensation spread through his chest. Which was beyond insane. He barely knew her. She was a mistake he’d made two years ago. A momentary loss of control that should have never happened. What did he care if she’d gotten married since then?
He almost had her where he wanted her when, suddenly, she dropped her whole weight in some self-defense trick, and took him to the floor with her. But he was too quick to be shaken off so easily. He was on top of her the next second, his hands restraining both wrists above her head as he used his weight to hold her down in a pose that brought back some old memories and woke up his body.
She strained against him, which didn’t help any. “If anything happens to Zak and Nate, I’ll kill you. Do you hear me?”
He was aware of the curve of her hips under him, her long legs entwined with his. More memories rose and flooded him. His limbs went paralyzed. For a second, he couldn’t move anything from the neck down. And there wasn’t much activity from the neck up either.
For a heartbeat, nothing existed but searing need.
Dammit. He’d thought he was done with this.
Then his body came alive with a bolt of pain as she kicked him where it hurt the most and shoved him off her. She dove for the door.
He couldn’t breathe. He rose anyway and lunged, caught her by the knees and brought her down harder than he’d intended—he didn’t exactly have full control. “Sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t enough.” She kicked at him one more time, missing his face by an inch.
He compartmentalized the pain and somehow got her pinned under him again, more carefully this time, taking no chances. “Stop for a second, would you?”
“Get off me.” She did her best to head-butt him. Her eyes burned with hate and desperation as she wriggled, hissing and threatening murder.
Hot memories aside, one thing was becoming crystal clear: this Lara wasn’t the Lara he still dreamed about sometimes, still fantasized about, the Lara who’d so sweetly surrendered to him.
Where the hell was the timidly curious virgin he remembered?

Chapter Two
She had grieved for him.
Lara fought, blind with fear and anger. She’d grieved for him when his bakery had burned, with him inside, hours after she’d left him that night. And she’d grieved again when she’d found out that she was pregnant, grieved for her babies who would have to grow up without a father.
But he hadn’t been dead. He’d been alive; he just hadn’t cared enough to tell her, too busy taking knockout blondes to dinner. He was involved in some nasty stuff, probably organized crime or drug dealing or something.
God, what an idiot she’d been.
“I go to your grave almost every Sunday, you jerk.” She tried to shove him. Might as well shove a brick wall.
Reid looked taken aback. “I have a grave?”
“The town buried you when no relatives came forward. They paid for the lot. There was a collection to pay for the coffin. I paid for the service. From my insurance money.” Even with him standing in front of her, she could still feel the lingering grief. Obviously, her mind was having trouble catching up with reality.
“I’m sorry.”
She tried to heave him off. “If you say you’re sorry one more time, I swear I’ll kill you.”
He managed to restrain her at last, the bloody bastard. “You’re a lot more violent than I remembered.”
She stilled. Mostly because there was little else she could do. And also because he was right. She was acting completely out of character.
She’d threatened murder twice in the last ten minutes. This wasn’t the kind of person she was. It wasn’t the kind of motherly example she would want to set for her boys.
“Must be rubbing off from you,” she shot back, as confusion, pain and humiliation hit her in quick succession. She tried to shift under his familiar weight, looking for a way out. “Please let me go.” For her babies, she would beg. “I won’t say anything to anyone. I’ll forget I ever saw you again. You can be dead to me again. I want you to be dead to me.”
Some dark emotion passed across his face, but it was gone before she could identify it. He waited a beat, measuring her up, then pushing away. “Okay. Cease fire.”
She nodded because he was stronger than her and she had no other choice. He’d always been tough and rough, had bad boy written all over him, the very thing that had drawn her to him in the first place. He was the hottest-looking guy she’d ever known, opening up shop right next to hers the week after she had. She was a goner the first time she’d laid eyes on him—six feet four inches of muscle and attitude.
She swallowed hard, pushing those memories away as she sat up. “Are you sure those men will track me down?”
“They’ll follow any lead they think might lead to me. Your kids are at your house?”
“Yes.” She buried her face in her hands. Her heart beat out of control. “With a babysitter.” God, she’d known that going on a date as far away as New York City was a huge mistake. But Allen had asked, not for the first time, and everyone she knew was on her case, telling her that she needed to get a life and move on. So she’d said yes.
The guilt was going to kill her. If worry didn’t kill her first. She rose to her feet and glanced at the door, weighing her chances of getting by Reid.
He was dialing his phone. “Hey. I’m fine. I’m heading out. I’ll call you back when I’m on the road. One thing right now. I need protection in Hopeville, P.A.” He gave her address.
Strange that he would remember. He hadn’t bothered coming back to tell her that he was okay. She couldn’t have been that important to him.
“Whoever you have closest. Local cops, fine. Outside surveillance, not to go in unless needed. Anyone approaching but me should be considered armed and dangerous. There are kids inside,” he added, then hung up and walked to a wall panel that opened to reveal a frightening cache of weapons. He tossed boxes of ammunition and guns into his bag, along with hand grenades and other things she didn’t recognize.
And the guns weren’t the scariest by far. The measured way he moved, his cold method as he assessed each weapon before selecting it spoke of a man who wore danger and violence like a second skin. How could he have hidden it so well two years ago when it was obvious now?
She inched toward the door. She really, really needed to leave. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked without looking her way, keeping up with his preparations.
He could have been the hero of some action movie. Or the villain. Two years ago, with his tattoos, the fact that he rode a bike, with those bedroom eyes of his that awakened her body for the first time to the fact that she was a woman, he was the most dangerous man she’d ever met. Just talking to him had always been a thrill. But he was so much more than she’d ever known.
“Please let me leave.” To think that despite her stunned reaction at the sight of him in the restaurant, she’d been so incredibly happy to see him. Sitting there, alive, he was the answer to all her prayers. She used to have dreams like that. His coming back, telling her it was all a big mistake. The two of them making a real family. His promising that he would love her forever, would never leave her again.
And now her fondest dreams were turning into a nightmare in front of her eyes. She pressed her jaw together for a second until the pain passed. “Please let me go home,” she entreated once she could breathe.
He barely looked up. “I can get you there faster than anyone else. Guaranteed.”
He was going to take her? “No offense, but I’m not sure I want you anywhere near my babies.” She thought of the gunfight at the restaurant. The way he’d left his date there, lying in a pool of blood. Okay, she was sure she didn’t want him anywhere near Zak and Nate. And she kind of wished she’d never told him about the twins. She’d been still too shaken up. Hadn’t been in her right mind. Hadn’t been able to think.
He closed the panel. “I’m one of the good guys.”
She kind of figured that from the phone conversation, and would have been lying if she said that wasn’t a great relief. But… “Good guy and dangerous aren’t mutually exclusive,” she pointed out. “Whatever you’re involved in, I want no part of it.”
“Too late.”
Was that regret in his voice?
He took the few steps necessary to reach her, and she had to look up at him. He was a good couple of inches taller and almost twice as wide in the shoulders—and she wasn’t a small woman.
He hesitated for a second, then huffed some air out through narrowed lips. “I was working undercover tonight.”
A couple of things clicked into place. Her mind raced. “And back in Hopeville when we met?”
He tossed her a coat, then once she’d put it on, grabbed her by the wrist, heading out to the garage. “Yes.”
Of course. He’d been new to town. But then again, she’d been new, too. They had bonded over being outsiders who were trying to get their small side-by-side shops going, trying to fit in.
“Is Reid Graham your real name?”
“Yes. I was hoping to find a way into the cell through an old army acquaintance who knew me back then. He’d gone the wrong way after he quit the army. He has a cousin on the fringes of the cell. My record was doctored to make it look like I quit, too, shortly after him. I ran into him ‘accidentally’ and was trying to get into his confidence. Anyway, I had to use my real name.”
“Who was the blonde at the restaurant?”
“An asset. She had information I needed.”
A disposable asset, apparently. Obviously, his business involved using people and casting them aside if necessary. Then she thought of something else, and her throat constricted.
“Was seducing me part of your cover?”
“You came to me.” His voice was low, tightly controlled. “But regardless—” He paused while he let his car quietly roll out of the garage. He was scanning their surroundings. “What I allowed to happen…plain bad judgment on my part.”
Tears burned the back of her eyes as they reached the street and he stepped on the gas. She looked away from him, blinking rapidly, staring out the side window at the houses that zoomed by.
“I have a situation here.” He was talking on his phone again. “Personal. I need a safe house somewhere near Hopeville, P.A.” He listened. “Not much. I have the tag numbers of the SUV the shooters drove.” He rattled that off, then looked at her. “What’s your husband’s name?”
Husband? Oh, Allen. “Allen Birmingham.”
“Anybody by the name of Allen Birmingham at the restaurant?” His face darkened as he listened to the response. “I figured,” he said before ending the call.
She gripped the seat belt. “What? What happened to Allen?”
“The cops talked to him when they showed up. They asked him to wait in the manager’s office because they needed to talk to him again about your kidnapping, after they secured the scene and got what they could from the rest of the witnesses.” He looked at her, regret in his cinnamon eyes. “By the time they came back to him, he’d disappeared. Hey.” He took her hand, his fingers warm and strong around hers. “I’m sorry.”
“You think those men took him?” She was beginning to feel light-headed. “They wouldn’t hurt him, would they?”
He didn’t say anything, just squeezed her hand, the car flying over the road. It was getting late, so that traffic was beginning to thin, not much standing in their way.
She pulled away to wrap her arms around herself. “He isn’t my husband,” she said at last, dazed.
“Boyfriend? I guess he’s the father of your boys?”
She held Reid’s somber gaze when he glanced over. Bit her lip. Sooner or later… It wasn’t as if he wanted anything to do with them anyway. God, she’d been dreaming about this moment, wishing for this miracle for so long. And now that her most impossible dream had come true, nothing was as it should have been. It broke her heart.
She ignored the pain and filled her lungs. “No. You are,” she told him.

Chapter Three
He almost drove into oncoming traffic. Reid eased off the gas and straightened the steering wheel, trying to get his racing mind under control. “This would not be the best time to mess with me.”
She said nothing.
“How is that possible?” Don’t be an idiot, he thought as soon as the words were out of his mouth, just as she said the exact same thing out loud.
He swallowed back a snappy response. Okay, so, yes, they’d done the necessary deed. But still, a pregnancy wasn’t possible. But if he wasn’t the father, then who was? Why wasn’t he told that she was pregnant? He had asked for an update on her after he’d been evacuated from Hopeville. Someone had gone out, checked on her and reported back that she was fine.
Of course, her pregnancy might not have been showing at the time. The report had focused on the fact that her butcher shop had burned, too, but she’d received enough insurance money to rebuild. Not that he hadn’t felt guilty anyway.
He stole a look at her from the corner of his eye and decided to play along, figure out what her game was. “Which one?” She’d said Zak and Nate.
“Both. They’re twins.”
He gave a strangled cough as saliva went down the wrong way. He had to give it to her, when she did some thing, she really went to town with it. He loosened his hands on the steering wheel, which he’d been gripping so hard, his knuckles were beginning to ache.
“How did the fire start?” she asked.
And his muscles tightened again. “I can’t talk about that.”
Her voice deepened with anger. “I think you owe me an explanation.”
Words she stole right out of his mouth. He waited a couple of seconds while he arranged his thoughts. He could give her the generalities. She did deserve something. “I was watching someone I suspected was a member of a group we had an interest in.”
“We?”
He didn’t respond.
“Law enforcement? Some government agency?”
“Something along those lines. Anyway, there was a leak somewhere. They figured out who I was. They came after me.”
She was watching him, wide-eyed. “But then whose body was that in the ashes?”
Right. The body she had buried. An image rose in his mind—her standing by a headstone carved with his name. No reason he should feel bad about that—he’d just been doing his job—but he felt like a jerk anyway. “I took one of them out before they got to me.”
That revelation silenced her for only a second. “How did you get out?”
“I wasn’t as dead as they thought when they set the place on fire. I crawled off, called for help. The decision was made that it’d be best if I wasn’t officially resurrected.”
“You could have told me.” Her voice was full of accusation.
“I was under orders not to. And the less you knew the safer you were.” The safer I was.
If they’d spent any more time together, if he’d gone back… She would have become a complication. She would have made him vulnerable. He couldn’t afford that. No weaknesses were allowed in his line of work. Soft spots had a way of turning deadly. He’d had to cut her off before she could come to mean too much to him.
She took a few seconds to digest his words. “Who were you watching?” she asked after a while.
He considered how much he could tell her. He was skating dangerously close to lines he should not cross. “Remember the gun shop across the strip mall?”
“Jimmy Sparks? Weird guy with the shaved head and the red goatee?”
He nodded.
“He closed shop and moved to Nevada right after the fire.”
“Not exactly. He realized we were onto him and took off. Location unknown.” Along with his buddies. That whole operation had ended as a total bust, not one of his finest moments. It had taken two years of hard work to get this close again. And not a moment too soon. The cell was getting ready to pull off something major, after having practiced on single victims.
Reid hoped Jimmy would surface before it was all over. The two of them had a score to settle.
“Did he…kill anyone?” she asked, white-faced. “Why were you watching him?”
“He, um, made stuff.” That was as much information as he was willing to divulge for now.
But she was quick on the uptake. “Oh. With his resources…” Her violet eyes went wide. She shook her head, muttering, “The butcher, the baker and the bomb maker,” under her breath.
He couldn’t help a pained grin. “A nursery rhyme for the twenty-first century, huh?”
She shook her head, looking dazed. “In Hopeville? It doesn’t seem real.”
Welcome to my world, he thought, but didn’t say it. Truth was he didn’t want her in his world. He wanted her as far from his world as could be arranged. The second she was bundled up with her kids in a safe house somewhere, he was putting as much distance between them as possible.
Now she knew he was alive. She could stop going to the damn cemetery. She had closure, or whatever she thought she needed. Best thing for her was to forget him.

THE REST OF THE TWO-HOUR drive from New York to Hopeville was spent mostly in silence, questions asked now and then and sparingly answered, both of them just trying to deal.
Reid called in once they were on her street. “I’m here. We’re going in to get the kids. I want an invisible escort back to the highway, then I’m good. What did you find for me?” He memorized the address he was given. “Thanks.”
He pulled into the driveway. “Stay.” He got out, looked around, made two unmarked cop cars down the street. He nodded toward them and walked around to open the door for Lara. “Stick close to me. Everything looks quiet in there,” he added, since she was almost vibrating with nervous energy.
She nodded and started forward, the first step a little shaky.
He cut in front of her, one hand on the gun in the back of his waistband. The door wasn’t even locked. Small-town America. The kind of safe, idyllic life that was quickly disappearing, no matter how hard he and others like him fought to keep it going.
“I’m back,” she called out from behind him, once he’d shoved the door open.
An elderly lady appeared from the kitchen, wearing pink sweatpants with a sweatshirt that had a kitten on the front, not someone he remembered from his brief stint in town. The woman didn’t seem to recognize him either, which was all for the best. She gave him the once-over with a glint of disapproval in her squinty eyes. “I thought you were going with Allen?”
“Long story.” Lara was hustling off toward the back of the house. She called over her shoulder, “Ran into an old friend.”
“Hi,” Reid said politely, cataloging as much of the house as he could see. While he’d known where Lara lived, he’d never been inside her home.
The place was small but tidy, toys neatly stacked in plastic bins. An old-fashioned model airplane hung from the ceiling. The sorriest-looking Christmas tree he’d ever seen stood in the corner, decorated with homemade ornaments, most of them color cutouts of a weird guy in a cape. The sign on his chest said Henry Hero. Probably the kids’ favorite cartoon character.
He noted the furniture that was well worn, the carpet that had seen better days. When he’d heard that she’d gotten the insurance money, he’d figured she would be set. But now, knowing that she had to raise two small children alone, knowing that she’d paid for part of his funeral, he wondered, for the first time, whether things were tight for her. He didn’t like the pang of guilt that came with that thought. In fact, he resented it.
She had come to him. But while that was true, there was also another truth in there somewhere. He could have, should have, sent her away. Strings of guilt twisted together with strings of lust, forming a rope that could bind him if he wasn’t careful. He shook that rope off. He was not supposed to have any feelings, of any sort, where Lara Jordan was concerned.
“Well, I’ll be going then.” The babysitter nodded at him with a world of reservations, then called after Lara, “I’ll take my payment in pork chops for Denis, as usual. I’ll stop by the shop to see you. Allen likes chops, too. Did he tell you that? All alone in that big house of his. The man must be starved for a good, home-cooked meal.”
“Okay,” came from the back in a distracted tone. “Um, I might not be in the shop for a few days. I’m thinking about driving down to Florida to see my uncle.”
“Bring back some sunshine if you go.”
Reid stood by the window and looked after the old woman as she walked home down the street, her golden sneakers glittering. She glanced back from the corner to scowl at his SUV. Other than the waiting cops and the occasional passing car, nobody was out there.
Ten minutes didn’t pass before Lara appeared, a car seat in each hand, two identical bundles inside. Between the blankets and the fuzzy hats, he didn’t see much of the little sleeping faces. “Let me help.”
She’d changed into jeans and a coat of her own, but had left on the Kevlar. She held out a car seat for him.
“I’ll take the bag.”
She set the baby on the couch so he could slide the enormous bag off her shoulder, and he noticed how tightly her full lips were pressed together, the worried shadows in her eyes.
“It’s almost over. Stay behind me on the way out.” He moved toward the door, looked out, stepped out, then signaled for her to follow.
He opened the back door of his car for her, let her secure the baby seats while he stashed her bag in the trunk. She was visibly shaken, but kept it together, efficient with the baby stuff. Then they were all in at last, and he got on the road, watching in the rearview mirror as the unmarked police cars followed them. In ten minutes, he was back on the highway and their escort fell back. In half an hour, he was crossing the state border to New York. The safe house, a small ranch home, wasn’t far from there.
He found the key in the back, taped under the roof of the gazebo, as promised, and entered first, looked around and then motioned for her to follow. Two bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bathroom. Not much, but enough until he figured out what to do with her long term.
He had enough favors owed to him that he could put her into witness protection. And never see her again. A perfect solution for all involved. And yet, the thought didn’t sit as well with him as it should have, especially considering that for some reason she was trying to con him. Because, despite her two little bundles of joy, which she was unwrapping in one of the bedrooms at the moment, the truth was, he couldn’t have children. He’d known that for a fact since he’d been nineteen.
The question was, what did she have to gain by lying to him?

THE BOYS HAD WOKEN UP for a little while, but she’d been able to settle them back to sleep. They were good sleepers, the both of them, thank God. Otherwise, she didn’t know how she could have managed as a single mother. She looked at their sweet baby faces. They were the most important things to her in the world. She would do anything to give them a happy, normal life, to keep them safe.
There was a time when she’d wanted to be wild and free. She’d been that, for a single night. Then the man she’d been infatuated with had died, her business had burned down and she’d become a single mother of twins, struggling to survive. She’d learned her lesson. She was done with adventure. All she wanted was an average, safe life. There was great comfort to be found in mediocrity.
She shored up the edge of the bed with pillows so the babies wouldn’t roll off, then walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Reid was sitting on the couch, legs apart, head back. Only one small light in the corner of the room was on, leaving his face shadowed and mysterious. He wore biker boots and faded jeans with an unbuttoned black shirt over his black T-shirt. She had a sudden flashback to the day she’d first seen him, appearing out of nowhere in the door of her shop, leaning against the frame and watching her, looking at her like no man ever had, before or since.
She’d been so stunned by the sight of him that she’d dropped ground pork into the ground beef bin. She should have turned tail right then and run for the hills. Except, then she wouldn’t have Zak and Nate, and she couldn’t regret them, not ever, not for a second.
“Someone will bring us food.” Reid stayed sprawled on the couch. “If you give me a list of what you need for your boys, I’ll call it in.”
“Our boys,” she corrected.
He looked up at her with his cinnamon eyes narrowed, his thick lashes shading them. He had a chiseled face and lips that could… Lips that said he’d been born to be wild. “I don’t think so.”
Anger spread through her veins. “You think I’m lying about this?”
“I know you are. Look, I was going to give it some time and figure out why you’re doing it, but I’m tired. There’s a lot going on right now. I’ll be leaving in a little while, handing you over to someone else. So let’s cut through the games, and you tell me what you’re up to.”
“We slept together.” She still thought about that night nearly every day. The possibility that he might have forgotten was humiliating.
But he said, “Believe me, I remember that part,” his voice dropping a notch.
Heat crept into her face.
“But I’m telling you, honey, I can’t have kids.”
“Well, I’m telling you that you can, and you have,” she snapped.
He watched her for a good long time, those piercing eyes doing their best to unnerve her. “I can’t figure out the angle. Best I can come up with is that you had someone shortly after me, got pregnant, he took off and you told everyone the kids were mine since I was dead and I couldn’t argue. Was he married?”
Anger progressed to cold fury. She strode into the kitchen for a glass of water. “Go to hell,” she called back.
He came after her, turned her around by the shoulders, held her gaze and pulled up his T-shirt all the way to his neck.
Her throat went dry. She wanted to look away. She couldn’t.
“Been there.” His voice rasped. “And got the burn marks to prove it.”
She swallowed a gasp at the sight of his mangled flesh. Blinked hard when she thought of the pure male perfection that he’d been the last time she’d seen his chest. All of that was gone now, angry, violent welts crisscrossing his skin.
For a moment, she forgot how mad she was at him for faking his death, for leaving her alone to deal with everything that came after, for denying their children. Her gaze slipped higher. “What’s that on your shoulder?”
“This?” He flicked his thumb over the scar. “This is where my collarbone came through. The bastards broke a couple of bones before they set me on fire.” He pulled his shirt down, covering it all.
And yes, he was still an unfair jerk for questioning her word about the twins, but the fight went out of her all of a sudden. This day and age, if he really wanted to know, paternity could be easily proven. But from what she’d seen of him so far, she didn’t think she would want him in her life, in her babies’ lives. She wanted safe and normal.
The good news was, he didn’t look like he wanted to be part of her life either. He wouldn’t even acknowledge their babies. One second she felt disappointment in that, the next she felt relief. She suspected she’d settle into relief once her mind calmed a little.
“The boys should be fine for a couple of days,” she said. “I packed enough food and diapers for them. How long do you think we have to stay here? Tomorrow’s Sunday so the shop isn’t open, but if I can’t come in Monday, I’ll have to make arrangements.” She had two part-time employees who could hold down the fort until her return.
“Make arrangements.”
The unfairness of it all slammed into her. She’d done nothing wrong here. And yet, suddenly, her carefully built life was being ripped away. “So this is what you do?” she asked, full of resentment.
He nodded.
“Maybe you should have stuck with popovers and country bread. Couldn’t you go back to something like that?”
“No.”
Too bad. “You were better at that than this.” She knew she sounded bitchy, and she didn’t care.
He looked at her with interest. “How so?”
“Back in Hopeville, your cover got broken and you were nearly killed. The same thing happened tonight.” And both times, her life had changed as a result.
He gave a rueful smile. “Believe it or not, that’s the only two times this ever happened to me. When you show up, everything falls apart. Maybe you’re my personal bad luck charm.” He gave a lopsided smile. “In fact, in the future, I’m planning on running in the opposite direction if you appear.”
That stung. She stuck her chin out. “How about you start now?”
“Would be the smartest thing to do.” He leaned closer, reached out and rubbed his thumb along the line of her jaw. “In fact, I’m planning on it as soon as backup gets here.”
When he pulled away, she took a few nervous gulps of water. “Maybe you’re my bad luck charm,” she said as she set her glass down on the counter. “The first time you showed up in my life, my business burned down. Tonight I was shot at, and I had to go on the run with the boys because my home is no longer safe. I should run when I see you coming.”
The way his gaze was focused on her lips made her warm all over. He moved back into her personal space again. “Run.” His voice was a raspy whisper.
She couldn’t have moved to save her life.
He grabbed her by the hips, lifted her onto the countertop effortlessly, settled his lean body between her legs. The sharp bolt of desire that shot through her took her breath away. What was it with them and food preparation surfaces?
“I’m not a sentimental person,” he started, “but damn if memories aren’t washing all over me. I can’t say I like it.”
“You could, uh, think about something else.” She tried to get a grip on her hormones, which suddenly came awake after two long, exhausting, celibate years. “We were—that was so long ago, I already forgot all about it.”
“I don’t think so. I was your first,” he whispered against her lips.
Awareness skittered across her skin.
“You must have had others since,” he murmured, his lips a fraction of an inch from hers.
She turned her head, looked away.
He reached a finger under her chin and turned her back to him. “Allen?”
She shook her head. “Just you.” How embarrassing. It wasn’t as if she’d been pining for him all this time, but between the twins and the shop she’d had no time for torrid affairs.
“Liar,” he said softly. His gaze darkened, something ferocious crossing his face, and then he claimed her lips with a passion that left her hanging on to his shoulders for dear life. Memories that had never fully faded came to life. But this wasn’t like last time. This time, she didn’t want this. She wasn’t looking for any sort of adventure, especially with a man whose middle name was Bad News, a man who’d just called her a liar.
She put her hands between them, against his chest, and pushed weakly, her body warring with her mind. She didn’t think he would even feel her, but he stopped immediately and pulled back. Dark fires burned in his eyes.
His fingers loosened on her hips, then tightened again. He opened his mouth, but she didn’t find out what he wanted to say. His ringing cell phone cut him off.
He answered it. “Hey.” He listened, then closed it and slipped it back into his pocket. “Time for the changing of the guard.”
She couldn’t tell if the quick flash in his eyes was disappointment or relief.

REID WANTED TO USE the bathroom before he left, and on the way back out, he passed by the kids’ room. A soft squeak came from inside. Sounded like they might be awake.
“Lara?” He could hear her talking with Ben, another guy from his unit who, like Reid, was on loan to the FBI, in the living room. Didn’t respond. Probably didn’t hear him.
He popped his head in the door with some reluctance. Maybe one of the kids just squeaked in his sleep, and wouldn’t need her at all.
Only moonlight illuminated the room. He had to step closer to the bed to see. Two pairs of cinnamon eyes peered up at him.
“He, he,” one of the boys said.
Strange kid. Without the hats and blankets, Reid could see them clearly now. And their faces were eerily familiar. Reid’s mother had baby pictures of him that were nearly identical.
A bolt of lightning couldn’t have hit him harder than his realization that Lara Jordan hadn’t lied.
He didn’t need a DNA test to know that Zak and Nate were really his.
He had kids. Kids he hadn’t known about all this time. Two boys. And if she hadn’t lied about that…Maybe he really was the only man she’d ever been with. The thought spread warmth through his chest in a way that was positively Neanderthal, but made him want to beat the stuffing out of Allen Birmingham a little less.
He should be angry. She’d just given him a weak spot a mile wide. He had a strategy that had worked for him so far. Have nothing to lose. It made him the meanest, baddest operative on the street. He never had to look back, never had to take his eyes off the prize. It was the only way to be the best in his field, and that was important to him. He was the job. The job was him.
Except that now Lara was back in his life. With twins.
He had to get out. He had to think.
He practically ran for the door.
But Lara spied him and ran after him. “Reid, wait.”
He slowed with reluctance, turned back, his mind in turmoil. He couldn’t deal with all this right now. He had to figure some things out for himself before he talked to her. And even before that, what he needed to do first was to find the damn CD Jen had talked about. Before the bad guys found it.
Lara looked a little lost as she wrapped her arms around herself, hesitant all of a sudden. “So, we— I suppose you won’t be coming back.” She glanced down at her feet.
Lara Jordan had his babies.
He moved back to her and touched her, against his better judgment, putting his crooked index finger under her chin and lifting her bottomless violet gaze to his. Against his better judgment, he allowed himself for the first time since he’d spotted her at the restaurant to notice how truly beautiful she looked. Against his better judgment, he allowed himself to admit how much he’d missed her.
He brushed his lips lightly across hers, smiling when her violet eyes opened wide with surprise. “I’ll be back, honey. Count on it.”

Chapter Four
Lara lay sleepless on the bed, listening to Zak’s and Nate’s soft breathing.
She’d already made all the necessary calls, letting everyone who needed to know that she would be away for a few days and had arranged coverage for the shop. She had nothing else to distract herself with.
Reid had resurrected.
They were all in danger.
A huge monkey wrench had just been thrown into her life. Again.
“We’ll be fine as long as we have each other,” she whispered to her little boys, trying to reassure both them and herself.
Zak opened his eyes. “He, he,” he said sleepily.
“There’s no Henry Hero here,” she soothed him. That was the boy’s favorite cartoon. She didn’t let them watch much TV, but they usually begged her for Henry Hero.
If Reid didn’t want anything to do with them, it was his loss. He’d lit out of the house like a bat out of hell. But he was coming back. She wasn’t sure if she should look forward to that or be scared.
Tears burned her eyes. He was Reid Graham, but not her Reid Graham.
Two years ago, she’d only known him for a short while. Enough to develop a thorough infatuation, but not nearly enough to truly get to know him. And, in the aftermath of his death, she had filled in the blanks.
She’d fancied that although he was rough around the edges, he had a golden heart. He’d become her imaginary gentle giant. A biker baker who was just waiting for the chance to become a family man.
Right.
The reality was that he was some sort of ruthless undercover operative, the kind of man who got involved in shoot-outs, someone who probably lived for danger, someone who had been able to walk away from her without a backward glance. Someone who couldn’t care less that they had two beautiful baby boys together.
It was this last thought that just about broke her heart. Because her babies deserved better.
She had no idea where he had gone, and she had no idea when he would be back. If he came back. In his line of work, she didn’t think she could take his return for granted, no matter what he’d promised. If they had a life together, this was what it would be like, not an epic love affair and running their businesses together and raising their family, as it had been in her dreams.
God, she couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but sleep wouldn’t come. And if she kept tossing and turning, she would eventually wake the twins. She could hear Ben moving around in the living room. She got up and went out to see what he was doing.
The man’s head came up. “Everything okay in there?”
She nodded.
He was a little shorter than Reid, more gangly. And beyond handsome in his own right, with lively blue eyes that didn’t miss anything. No tattoos that she could see. He was a more clean-cut type of guy. Could pass for a stockbroker on Wall Street if he put on a three-piece suit. He was pretty close to her age, she guessed. Probably a half dozen years younger than Reid.
He was studying a detailed map of the neighbor hood on his laptop. Probably planning escape routes, or whatever it was that people like him did in situations like this.
She sank onto the couch. “Are you married?” She winced, embarrassed, as soon as the words were out. She really needed to start thinking before she spoke. “I mean, I was wondering what your wife thinks when you take off for parts unknown in the middle of the night.”
“Single.” He focused his gaze on her. “Interested?” She had to laugh at the immediate, flattering response. “I have my hands full at the moment, but thanks for offering.”
He shrugged, and said in a voice underscored with regret, “Just as well. You’re a pretty hot babe, but going up against Reid would be dicey.”
“Reid and I are not like that.” For the moment, she was ignoring the kisses they’d shared. They couldn’t have meant anything to him. He was the kiss-and-leave type. Definitely. That she was still attracted to him, even knowing who and what he really was, was beyond her understanding, so she opted for denial—as far as that went.
A dark blond eyebrow slid up Ben’s forehead. “From the way he was looking at you… Could have fooled me.” He gave a quick grin. “There’s more tension between you two than at a hostage exchange.”
“That’s, um… We have a kind of history.”
Ben kept grinning.
“Which is over,” she said with all the self-confidence she could muster.
“Whatever you say, babe.”
And that made her laugh. She was almost six feet tall, and built like a butcher, for sure. Nobody had ever called her babe.
Reid called her honey. She was so not going to think about that. “So you work with Reid a lot?”
Ben went back to the map, as if he hadn’t even heard her.
“Let me guess, if you told me anything about your job, you’d have to kill me.”
He looked up, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “Or make you my sex slave and ravish you until you could think of nothing but my body, forgetting everything else. It’s the kind of mind control we practice.”
And she knew she was in trouble. Because here was a really hot guy, talking dirty to her. At the very least, she should have felt a zing. But she felt nothing. She wished Reid had come back already. “On second thought, maybe you should keep your secrets.”
Again, Ben returned to the map, muttering something under his breath that sounded like, “Damn Reid.”
Not a second passed before he raised his head and became deathly still, the smile sliding off his face.
Her heart rate picked up in response to the sudden tension in the air. “What is it?”
Gun in hand, he was moving toward the window. “Turn off the light. Go back to the kids. Lock the door.”
She didn’t ask questions, but did as she was told. She even wedged a chair under the doorknob for good measure. Then she lay down next to Zak and Nate, shielding them with her body.
For several minutes, she could hear nothing but the babies breathing and the blood rushing loudly in her ears. Then a small pop sounded at the back door. A gunshot? Silencer? Her breath about stopped. Then she shook herself. What did she know about silencers? Only what she’d seen in movies. No need to get fanciful. Stay calm. No reason to panic. Then another pop came, and another. The floor creaked. A door was slammed open. There were people in the house.
Definitely reason to panic. She slid off the bed. Scanned the room for a weapon. Nothing in here but the bed and the dresser. The worst she could do to anyone who entered was to engage him in a pillow fight, for heaven’s sake. But she wasn’t giving up without trying. She couldn’t let her babies down.
One thing she knew for sure was that if the attackers came in, she was toast. She and the boys had to get out of here. She moved to the window, took care to slide it open as quietly as possible. Cold air blew in immediately. She was on her way to wrap Zak and Nate up in the blanket and get out when the door was kicked open, the chair bouncing off the opposite wall, breaking into splinters.
Zak and Nate woke up at the same time and started crying.
“Shut the hell up,” the man who filled the doorway barked, his face covered by a black ski mask.
Another masked guy was right behind him.

REID STOOD IN THE MIDDLE of Jen’s apartment, the guilt he felt over her death intensifying. She’d been his asset. He should have protected her. He tried to dig down to his customary cold logic, the one that would tell him that she’d been a member of a terrorist cell. She’d tortured and killed people alongside her boyfriend. She had put herself in the path of danger when she’d hooked up with the likes of Kenny Briggs.
Except that when she found out she was pregnant, she’d decided to get the hell out of Dodge, putting out feelers for turning evidence in exchange for money and protection.
She would have gotten both. She and her kid could have lived happily ever after. If Reid’s personal life hadn’t intersected with his job at that precise moment, for the first time in many, many years. And like the last time, the result was a disaster.
This was exactly why the job always had to come first, personal life second. Or rather, with him, the job came first, second and third, and he hadn’t allowed a personal life at all. Except that now, personal matters were forcing their way into his life. He had to figure out what to do about that before anyone else died. He had to contain a looming disaster.
And the first step toward that goal was to completely shut Lara and the babies out of his mind and focus one hundred percent on finding Jen’s CD.
Jen’s place had been tossed before he’d gotten there. He didn’t think whoever had done this had found what they were looking for. The mess was apocalyptic, as if they’d ripped the place apart searching, then trashed it in frustration at the end.
So where had Jen hidden the damned thing?
He stood still, closed his eyes and in his mind ran through his whole conversation with Jen at the restaurant. Couldn’t pick out a single clue. So he ran the conversation again. This time, his subconscious got snagged on a sentence.
“My sister knows,” Jen had said, referring to her pregnancy.
According to her file, Jen was estranged from her family. They didn’t see eye to eye with Kenny and the values he represented. Jen had cut her family off three years ago to devote all her time and energy to Kenny and his buddies, to the cause.
So when had she made up with her sister? Eileen was the name, he thought. He was dialing his FBI handler as he headed back to his car.

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