“The summer semester was about to start. I didn’t want you to have to wait until fall to start back again.”
She said several unsavory things. “No phone calls from you. When I tried calling, you didn’t answer. I don’t even count the pathetic, generic texts you occasionally sent me. Then I find out that you’ve been talking to my dad every few days, asking how I was doing. If you were worried, all you had to do was talk to me, Bryson. Not my family.”
“I was busy.”
“Really? What’s her name?”
He turned the wheelchair around to face her. She was wearing hunter-green shorts and a lime-green tank top in deference to the warm weather. As always, her rich brown skin was flawless, her full high breasts a reminder of the incredible body beneath those clothes. But his favorite part of her was that gorgeous bright mind of hers. And her beautiful, sassy mouth. He never knew what outrageous thing she was going to say next.
“Helga,” he said.
She frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You asked me her name. Her name is Helga. Or, well, I actually don’t even know her real name. But that’s what you called her when she was here that first day you showed up on my doorstep.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Does this mean that you’ve been doing the rehab the doctor ordered?”
“It does. I have.”
She crossed her arms, looking only slightly less aggravated than before. “Well, that’s good. But I still don’t see why you couldn’t text me a real hello, with feeling, every once in a while. Or actually speak to me on the phone. What makes you think you could just text me last night to come back and everything would be fine?”
He smiled. “You’re here aren’t you?”
She narrowed her eyes, then whirled around.
He caught her arm just before she could get out of reach and yanked her backward.
She let out a little squeak and landed right where he wanted her. In his lap.
“Let me go, Bryson. I’m not kidding.”
He gently turned her face so she’d meet his gaze. “Is that really want you want, Teag? You want me to let you go?” The flash of unshed tears in her eyes surprised him. “Sweetheart?”
“You already have. You wouldn’t let me stay to help with your recovery. You sent me back home like some child—”
“While I could never mistake you for a child, not even close—” he gently stroked her arm, unable to resist touching her “—there’s definitely an age difference between us. Something to think about. You’re young, still working on officially starting your career, although I heard the FBI is interested in grooming you as a future candidate.”
She smiled. Not full wattage, but enough for him to know that he was right, that the FBI opportunity was important to her.
“There might be a nibble there,” she admitted. “They were impressed with the detailed investigation I conducted, and that I was right about Avarice Lowe being a serial killer. Apparently my notes on him have helped them narrow down facts that blow apart his alibis for some of the killings. He may not be around for a trial. But at least some of his victims’ families will have true closure now.”
He pressed a kiss against her cheek and settled her more comfortably against him. The fact that she didn’t resist being snuggled close was encouraging. “You have the most beautiful mind I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. It’s about time the rest of the world figured that out.”
She gave him the side-eye before looking away. “I’d say thank you, but it sounds like you’re building another excuse to justify why you wanted me to leave you.”
“Not leave me. Go back to school. Huge difference.”
She shrugged.
“Teag, you’re young, energetic, just starting out in life. I’m more toward the middle of mine.”
She snorted.
“Okay, maybe not quite the middle just yet. Hopefully.”
“Is this going somewhere?”
He motioned toward the wheelchair. “I wouldn’t want you to ever regret spending time with a cripple when you could be out with guys your own age doing whatever you want.”
She rolled her eyes with a dramatic toss of her head. “I think you’re confusing me with the self-centered stuck-up jerk who used to be your girlfriend. I’m a little more creative than her. I can figure out lots of fun things to do with you even if you can’t twirl me around a dance floor.”
“Does that mean you could be happy if I never walked again?”
Her mouth fell open and she cupped his face in her hands, all signs of teasing and anger gone as she stared into his eyes. “Oh, Bry. Is that what the doctor said? Are you…are you paralyzed?”
He gently pulled her hands down and kissed them before letting go. “No. I’m not paralyzed. I’ve been very lucky, actually, after being shot twice in my life. Then stabbed. Twice. I just wanted to make sure that if something like that did happen, maybe down the road—considering how dangerous my career can be—that you’d still be okay sticking around.”
Her brows arched in confusion. “Love isn’t based on how mobile you are or what you can do for someone else. Love is when your happiness revolves around the other person’s happiness. Once again, I think you’re confusing me with the ex who shall not be named.”
He grinned.
She frowned.
“Did you just say that you loved me, Teagan? In that unique sassy way of yours?”
She crossed her arms. “That depends.”
“On?”
“On why you’re asking me these stupid questions and why you texted me last night that you had first class tickets waiting for me so I could fly up here today. Thanks for the first class, by the way. That was cool.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for coming.”
She twisted her mouth as if trying to figure something out. “You’re acting awfully strange. And my infinite patience is wearing thin. Out with it. What exactly do you want? Are you asking me to be your girlfriend and you’re worried I’ll dump you because of the chair?”
“Will you?”
“Be your girlfriend? Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“No.”
“We’re done here. Have a nice life, Bryson.” She hopped off his lap and started up the dock.
“I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend,” he called after her.
She raised her hand in the air and made a rude gesture without looking back.
He grinned. “I’m asking you to be my fiancée. For real this time.”
She stopped so fast that she wobbled and almost fell into the water. Once she regained her balance, she slowly turned around. “What…what did you just say?”
He leaned down and flipped the top back on the cooler beside his chair. Then he pulled out a red velvet box and held it up in front of him. “I love you Teagan Eleanor Ray.”
She gasped in outrage. “Did my mother tell you my middle name? I hate it. It makes me sound like an eighty-year-old.”
“Well, maybe that will help with the age gap between us.” He winked.
She marched back to him and stopped a few feet from his chair, eyeing the velvet box in his hands. “Be honest, Bryson. Exactly how much older than me are you?”
“Old enough to teach you a few things that I know you’ll really, really enjoy. And young enough to demonstrate them with an expertise that will make your toes curl.”
Her gaze flew to his. She swallowed, then cleared her throat. “Toes curl?”
He nodded.
“All of them?” she squeaked.
“Oh yeah.”
She fanned herself, then wiped her hands on her shorts. “Um. Wasn’t there a question you asked me, a moment ago, when my back was turned?”
He nodded again.
She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think you s
hould ask again? Face-to-face?”
“No.”
Her eyes widened. She started to turn away.
He stood.
She froze and stared in wonder as he dropped down on one knee on the dock.
“I think I should ask it down here, do this the right way, on bended knee.” He opened the box and tilted it so the ring would catch the light.
She pressed a hand to her throat. “You stood on your own. No cane. And you’re on one knee. I don’t understand.”
“By the grace of God, when Lowe stabbed me, it knocked the bullet loose instead of into my spine. The doctors were able to extract it. And I’ve been doing everything the therapists ordered me to do. I’m not pain-free yet. But there’s a good chance I will be. Eventually.”
Her expression turned sad. “Are you in pain right now, Bryson?”
He shook his head. “No. And it’s not because of tequila.”
“Scotch?”
“Pain pills. Like I said, I’m following doctor’s orders this time. No self-medicating with alcohol. No more skipping rehab appointments. And even though I hate how the pills make me feel, I wanted to be able to do this without grimacing. So I’m all doped up and feeling good. Now, about that question I asked—”
“The ring is beautiful,” she breathed, stepping closer and eyeing the box again. “But not half as beautiful as you, you frustrating, stubborn man.”
He smiled as he pulled the ring out of its bed of velvet. “I wanted something special, something as unique as you.”
She moved even closer, then pressed her hand against her chest. “Opals. And diamonds. And rubies. I love opals and rubies. How did you know?”
“All those calls to your mom and dad weren’t for nothing.”
“Sneaky.”
“Necessary. I wanted to surprise you. You just confirmed that you love opals and rubies. Diamonds too I hope?”
She rolled her eyes. “Everyone loves diamonds. Or they should. I couldn’t ask for anything more beautiful. Thank you.” She held out her left hand.
He poised the ring in front of her finger. But before sliding it on, he looked up, meeting her gaze. “It’s selfish of me to even ask you to marry me, because I think you could do a lot better. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I love you, Teagan Ray. I think I loved you the moment you knocked on my door and the only word you could get out was hi.” He grinned. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife? Will you marry me?”
“Are you kidding? Put the ring on already.”
He laughed and slid the ring onto her finger. Then he stood.
Tears glittered in her eyes as she put her hands on his shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re standing here like this. I’m so happy for you.”
“No happier than me, that you said yes. I wasn’t sure how this was going to go.”
“That makes two of us. I had no idea why you wanted to see me. I believe you owe me a kiss, future husband.” She lifted her lips toward his and waited for him to bend down.
“Hold that thought. I have something else for you.” He turned back to the cooler and reached inside.
She groaned. “You’re killing me, Bryson. I don’t want anything else but you.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure you want this. And I did make a promise after all.” He handed her a pink bag with little pink ribbons tied all over it, and the name of a very exclusive store on the outside of the bag.
Her eyes widened. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
She opened the bag and peeked inside, then squealed with delight as she shoved her hand in and pulled out an aqua-colored lace bra and panty set. “They’re gorgeous, perfect. And they’re my size. Oh my gosh, please don’t tell me you asked my mother my sizes.” She gasped. “Or my dad!”
“Give me more credit than that. I asked your mother for your best friend’s name. Then I asked your best friend.”
She laughed with obvious relief and sorted through the contents. “Twelve. You bought me a dozen bras and matching panties. Bryson! This cost a fortune!”
“I can afford it. I’d pay ten times that to see your eyes light up and your glowing smile.”
The tears that had been threatening spilled over and down her cheeks. “I’m so happy.”
“Because we’re going to get married?”
She shook her head. “Because you promised that when you replaced my hundred-dollar bra that you’d buy me more, and then you’d take them off me.”
He threw his head back and laughed harder than he had in ages.
“Hurry, Bryson. I’m not waiting one more minute for you to keep your promise. I’ll strip right here on your back lawn if I have to.”
Still laughing, he scooped her up in his arms and ran with her to the house. But before going inside, he let her legs slide down him as he’d done so long ago. And this time, he did what he’d wanted to do since the first time he’d seen her. He kissed her. Really kissed her. Kissed her with all his pent-up emotions, love and longing and lust all rolled into one. And when he was done, he pulled back to soak in the haze of passion in her eyes and the love reflected back in them.
His hands were shaking as he cupped her face. “I don’t know what I did to make you love me. But I’ll thank God every night for the rest of my life that you showed up on my doorstep. You’re a treasure, Teagan. A gift to my battered soul. I love you so much.”
She shifted the bag of lingerie to her left hand and grabbed his right in hers. “I love you too, Bryson Anton. But you have one more promise to keep. You have to make my toes curl.”
“Challenge accepted.” He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her again as he strode through the house.
Her toes were curling before they even reached the bedroom.
* * * * *
WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM
Seek thrills. Solve crimes. Justice served.
Dive into action-packed stories that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Solve the crime and deliver justice at all costs.
6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!
Love Harlequin romance?
DISCOVER.
Be the first to find out about promotions, news and exclusive content!
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Instagram.com/HarlequinBooks
Pinterest.com/HarlequinBooks
ReaderService.com
EXPLORE.
Sign up for the Harlequin e-newsletter and download a free book from any series at
TryHarlequin.com
CONNECT.
Join our Harlequin community to share your thoughts and connect with other romance readers!
Facebook.com/groups/HarlequinConnection
ISBN-13: 9781488067112
Agent Under Siege
Copyright © 2021 by Lena Diaz
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at [email protected].
Harlequin Enterprises ULC
22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor
Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada
www.Harlequin.com
“Here. It’s not much. But thank you.”
Matt didn’t need a thank-you, and he certainly hadn’t expected a g
ift. He lifted the plate to inspect the thick slice of cherry pie. He was 250 pounds of muscle but never turned his nose up at a free dessert.
“Thank you. Cherry is my favorite.”
“I’m glad.” She opened her door. “Well, thank you again. Good night, Mr. Taylor.”
“Good night, Mrs. McGuire. Ms.? Miss?”
There was a drawn look to her features that spoke of fatigue. “I’m divorced. Corie will do just fine.”
“Matt will do, too. For me. I’m Matt. Not married. Never have been.”
She smiled in that way that made him feel like he hadn’t just stuck his foot in his mouth and made an awkward conversation downright uncomfortable. “Good to know. Good night, Matt.”
He waited in the hallway, hearing the dead bolt, a chain and the doorknob engage. Good. He liked that she was cautious about her safety.
Once he got home, Matt didn’t even bother grabbing a fork. He picked the wedge up in his hand and took a bite. A second bite made him forget the niggling thought at the back of his mind that told him something was very wrong in that small apartment across the hall.
There was also something very right about that little family.
Dead Man District
Julie Miller
Julie Miller is an award-winning USA TODAY bestselling author of breathtaking romantic suspense—with a National Readers’ Choice Award and a Daphne du Maurier Award, among other prizes. She has also earned an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. For a complete list of her books, monthly newsletter and more, go to juliemiller.org.
Harlequin Intrigue January 2021 - Box Set 1 of 2 Page 37
