The Spy Who Saved Christmas

by Dana Marton

  “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. “In
terested?” 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.

  “Hey. The asset we lost tonight… Her apartment was trashed. Send someone out here for fingerprints. See if the neighbors noticed anyone coming and going and maybe have a description. Can you get into her police file right now? Okay. I need her sister’s ad dress.” He memorized the information. “I’ll call if I have anything.”

  He was in a cutesy cul-de-sac near Philly less than two hours later, bungalow houses that were probably thirty, forty years old lined the street, each sitting on about a fifth of an acre. He pulled into the driveway of a house with the number he’d been looking for. The lights were on.

  Which meant he couldn’t push in a back window and investigate on his own. He would have to ask permission. Because he sure as hell didn’t have time to wait for a warrant.

  He got out of the car, walked up to the door and knocked. It was seven in the morning.

  A red-eyed woman opened the door. She was a few years older than Jen had been, same color irises, different color hair. She was clutching a wad of tissues in her hand.

  “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Reid Graham. I know I’m coming at a bad time, but I need to ask some questions about your sister.”

  Tears welled. “I already told everything to the detective.” She swallowed a sob, pressing the wad of tissues to her nose.

  She assumed that he was another cop, like the one who’d come to inform her of her sister’s death, and he didn’t correct her. The assumption worked fine for him.

  “We’ve had some developments since,” he said simply.

  That did the trick. She motioned him in.

  The house was as modest inside as it was outside, clean and well-kept, like Lara’s place. Except this home was decorated within an inch of its life with ribbons and ruffles, a Victorian medley of roses and lace that made him dizzy. The Christmas decorations were equally overwhelming and exuberant. He sat in a pink flowery armchair—accented with a red-and-white candy-cane patterned
throw and matching decorative pillow—refusing to let it intimidate him.

  She sagged onto the couch, which was smothered in Christmas pillows. “Do you know who killed her?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I told the other detective that she was running with bad people. Kenny, her boyfriend… Creepy guy. Even violent.” She sniffed.

  “We’re certainly investigating that angle. Could you tell me when you last saw your sister?”

  “Yesterday.” The word brought a new batch of tears. “We haven’t really talked in years. She showed up out of the blue. She said she regretted running off with Kenny. I called Mom right after she left. We were so happy that she came to her senses. She was going to have a baby.” Eileen gave a loud sob.

  “How long was she here?”

  “She was in a hurry. I shouldn’t have let her go. Oh, God, if I only knew…”

  “Can you tell me exactly what she did while she was here, what rooms she went into, everything she touched?”

  A few rapid blinks came. “Why?”

  “I have reason to believe that she left something here.”

  “She didn’t.”

  “She wouldn’t have told you.”

  Eileen’s back stiffened. “But I would have seen her.”

  “Mind if I look anyway? If I’m right, the evidence can put her killer away for a long time. And it can save the lives of many others.”

  Eileen hesitated for only a second before she nodded. Then she stood and walked toward a hall closet. “Jen came in. She took her coat off. I put it in the closet for her.”

  “Mind if I check?”

  “Go ahead.”

  He rifled through coat pockets, even checked inside boots. Then he pulled out a large, brown purse and handed it to Eileen. “Would you look through it to make sure there’s nothing in there that shouldn’t be?”

  She did as he asked, shook her head when she was done. “Just the things I always carry.”

  “Thank you. What did she do after she came in?”

  “We had coffee.” She led the way to the kitchen. “She sat here.”