The Spy Who Saved Christmas Read online

  Something in his voice squeezed her heart and made her want to reach out to him. She didn’t. Silence stretched between them.

  “You’re not what I remembered either,” she said at last.

  He drew a slow breath and seemed to shake off the moment of melancholy, his lips tugging into a grin. “More handsome and wider in the shoulders?”

  She ignored that, biting back a smile. “I had this gentle-giant thing going in my head. Great body, great tattoos, great bike, but a pastry chef at heart.”

  He gave a deep chuckle. “I wish.”

  “I never saw you wielding anything more dangerous than a wire whisk.” Might as well go for the full, embarrassing truth. “I always thought that had you lived, we would have fallen in love and gotten married, raised the twins together. In my fantasies, you were a doting father.”

  “You fantasized about me?” Interest gleamed in his eyes.

  “No. Just the father part, I mean.” She pressed her lips together and cast her gaze down. The dreams she used to have about him… She wouldn’t admit to those under torture.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You know, it’s a miracle you, your ego and I can all fit on this bed.” She turned her back to him before he could read too much in her face.

  He pulled her against him, back to front, and left his arm around her waist. “I fantasized a lot about you,” he said into her ear, in that bad-boy voice of his that used to drive her crazy.

  Heat gathered instantly at the vee of her thighs. His hand dipped to her waist. Banked heat flared into flames. He nibbled her neck below her ear. And suddenly it was as if the past two years had never happened.

  Warning. Warning. Proceed immediately to the nearest emergency exit, an insistent voice said deep inside, but the rest of her failed to heed the alarm. In her mind, they were back in the bakery again. His scent was the same, the feel of his lips, the way he could unleash a fire storm inside her with a touch. When he gently turned her in his arms, she didn’t resist.

  “We should be resting,” he mumbled against her lips, each word a caress.

  “I’m too wired to sleep.”

  “I could relax you.”

  He was a cad. Totally incorrigible. But she didn’t seem to be able to hate him for that. Where was all that anger when she needed it? When had that seeped away? She felt naked and defenseless without it, even as her body cheered for the possibility of naked.

  He took her lips, gently but thoroughly, their bodies pressed tightly together. His arousal was unmistakable.

  How many times had she dreamed dreams like this? A hundred, two? Only to awaken frustrated in the morning. Frustrated first, then heartbroken because memories of the call from the fire department would come next. The call that had informed her with regret that the two stores had burned. That one body had been found at the bakery.

  But she knew now that it hadn’t been him. He was alive—really, really alive—in her arms. And while on a certain level she still felt hurt and resentment over the lies he’d told her, on another level there was nothing but pure relief. Then there was the level of lust. Sheesh, suddenly she had more levels than one of those underground parking garages in the city. And if she were smart, she would listen to that faint voice of sanity in her head and start circling right now for the exit.

  Instead, she pressed even closer to him and lost herself in his kiss.

  THE SMALL SOUND of capitulation she made in the back of her throat nearly made him lose all control. He was blind with lust and need. But not so far gone that he wouldn’t remember who was in his arms and what losing all control could do to her.

  Clearly, what he was doing was wrong—no matter how good it felt, no matter what a fantastic memory it would make, just the thing to pull out on a cold, lonely winter night. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to stop this,” he mumbled against her soft lips. “In a minute.”

  Another kiss couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t all just for him. She had to get her mind off their troubles. She needed to relax a little.

  Right. A humanitarian mission. His conscience prickled. But the roar of need in his body drowned out every other voice in his brain.

  Her long-sleeved cotton shirt sailed over her head before he knew what he was doing. She wore a plain cotton bra, with the barest of lace trim. Whoever had come up with the phrase plain cotton obviously hadn’t seen this little number.

  So much blood was rushing south in his body that he was beginning to feel light-headed. He pressed his face into the soft valley of her breasts, hoping to catch his breath. Except that when he turned his head, through the thin material his lips grazed a nipple accidentally—at least, he thought accidentally—and he lost the ability to breathe altogether.

  Then without any planning at all on his part, the nipple was in his mouth, and it was just as sweet as he remembered. Never had he wanted another woman as he wanted Lara Jordan. Not two years ago and not now. And going any further was a bad idea now, just as it had been back then.

  Worse.

  So he was going to stop. This very second.

  His right hand, which went for her other breast, seemed to have missed that briefing.

  Okay. Cut to the parting kiss. He moved his head up and claimed her lips. Then she moaned into his mouth, and he forgot that parting kisses were best kept short and sweet.

  Who made that rule anyway? If a kiss was all he was going to get, he was going to get his money’s worth, a very insistent part of him—not his brain—reasoned. Then, while his lips were busy, his hands used the distraction to get into the action. Next thing he knew, her bra was AWOL. The little tease and his shirt must have run away as a team, because her hard nipples seemed to be pressing against his bare chest in a most enticing way.

  He took a split second to look down. Yep. Amazing breasts. Skin to skin.

  “Isn’t this a really bad idea?” she asked, looking sweetly dazed.

  “We’re adults. In a seminude situation. With full control of it. Hardly a capital offense.”

  Then he felt her hands at his belt and he swallowed hard. If those pants came off, Operation Self-Control, well, semi-self-control at this stage, would come to an abrupt end. Unfortunately, every cell in his body clamored toward that goal.

  He grabbed her hips and held her still. Put an inch or two distance between their lips. Rested his forehead against hers.

  “No.” His voice was so hoarse and full of pain he barely recognized it.

  “I don’t want to stop,” she lifted her chin and whispered against his lips.

  The exact same words that she’d said two years ago. And he’d been a jerk to give up all common sense and take that for a full green light.

  “No,” he repeated this time. “You’re killing me here.”

  They lay side by side like that for a long moment, both of them still breathing hard.

  Then she went slack and crossed her arms, covering her breasts, turning her head down so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry. Oh, God. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

  Not him. Unfortunately. “Hey.” He turned her and pulled her back against him, and tugged the blanket until it was over them. “There are a lot of high emotions running amok right now. We just slipped for a second here. It won’t happen again.”

  Like hell it won’t, his body assured him immediately. He ignored that voice of unbridled need. Of all the women he’d ever known, how unfair was it that he had to be in this situation with Lara? The only one he had a track record of being unable to resist.

  “We’re older now,” she whispered against his chest, her warm breath tickling his skin. “Thank God, we’re too smart to make the same mistake.”

  “Right,” he lied through his teeth.

  They had three hours before they had to get going. She was lying half-naked in his arms. He could feel her nipples poking against his skin. If he managed to keep his hands off her, it would be a major miracle.

  If he had that much gallantry and self-
restraint in him, Colonel Wilson should put him up for a medal.

  She was pulling her top back on under the blanket. The next time she spoke, her voice was riddled with guilt. “For a moment, I almost forgot…everything. I can’t believe that at a time like this, I could—”

  She sounded so wretched all of a sudden that it started an ache in his chest, drawing his attention from what other parts of his body were still demanding.

  “The last thing you need is a guilt-trip. Listen to me. I’m a healthy man, you’re a healthy woman. We have a history. We’re in an emotionally charged situation. A moment of weakness, wanting some comfort where you can find it… It’s okay.”

  She stayed silent for a while before she said with a frustration-filled voice, “What do these people want, anyway? Why are they doing this? The virus and everything?”

  “There are always people who are full of hate, no matter what. You do them the slightest wrong, and they’ll hate you as long as you live. You don’t do anything at all, and they’ll make up something just so they can hate you. Hell, they’ll hate you even if you try to help them. That’s just the way it is.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “It is. They operate out of a position of hate and fear. They get into the whole them-versus-us mentality. Happens all over the world.”

  “So what set this particular group off?”

  “They’re antigovernment. Not sure how Jimmy Sparks came to join them. I know Kenny Briggs is in because his father and uncle had been executed by lethal injection for first-degree murder. The current governor was a judge at the time. The current mayor of Philadelphia was the prosecuting attorney. They both went on to brilliant political careers. It sticks in Kenny’s craw.”

  The man wasn’t the sharpest tool in the cell, but blind with hate and his need for revenge, he was the worst kind of enemy. And Reid had no reason to believe that other members of the cell would be any better. Something to keep in mind as he stepped among them in a couple of hours to bring Zak and Nate home.

  This wasn’t a group to reason with. It was a group whose sole reason for existence was to kill.

  He looked at Lara, outlined in the firelight, and thought of their boys. And knew that whatever happened at that exchange, he would protect what was his.

  Chapter Nine

  Lara woke with Reid snuggling her from behind, holding her so tight, as though never wanting to let go. She pushed that fancy thought from her groggy mind. He did want to let her go. He would let her go. He’d already told her that.

  “Is it time?” she asked without turning.

  “We have a few more minutes.”

  She got up anyway as nerves rushed her.

  The fire had died down in the stove. The air in the cabin was nippy, but not freezing. The waiting warmth of his body under the blankets pulled her back.

  She moved forward, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “Does your friend keep coffee around here?”

  “Above the sink.” He got up and tended the fire while she looked for coffee, sugar and two mugs. He used kindling for some quick heat that wouldn’t last long, but was enough to warm a little water.

  Then they sat at the small table, fingers wrapped around the warm cups. She tried not to look at him. She looked hideous in the morning: hair sticking out in every direction, bleary-eyed. He looked sexy and rumpled, only his gaze sharp and lethal. He could have been on a magazine cover.

  When he finished his coffee, he pushed to his feet. They tidied up the place together.

  “We’d better get going,” he said as he pulled on his coat and took one last look around.

  She was already standing by the door. “Ready.”

  They talked little on their way up the north trail to the car Cade had left, a white GMC Jimmy with four-wheel drive that looked brand-new. She even stayed quiet on the drive out of the woods. Not that her brain was still sleepy, she was more than awake. But all she could think of was her babies, worrying about them was taking up all her energy.

  Then she and Reid were flying down the highway, reaching the bridge a little earlier than the appointed time. In the woods, there had still been some snow on the ground, but here, piles of garbage were stuck in the muddy riverbank, the soft wind tossing lonely plastic bags. The place was deserted, the river flowing darkly ahead of them, the noises of the water filling up the night. The old railroad bridge was a dark relic silhouetted against the sky, nothing but a long stretch of rusty metal.

  Spooky, she thought, and shivered at the same time, her nerves already raw.

  Reid scanned the area, although he probably had every square foot mapped in his head from the materials his friends had sent to the laptop. He was just double-checking things. His efficiency was comforting at a time like this.

  “I’m leaving the keys in the ignition. If anything even looks like it might not work out, you slide over behind the wheel and drive away,” he told her.

  A second passed before the meaning of his words registered.

  “Give it up already. You take the macho thing too far,” she snapped. “I don’t need you to start channeling Rambo here.” She didn’t want his overprotection. She wanted her babies. “In case it’s not clear to you yet, I’ll die before I leave this place without Zak and Nate.”

  ON THE ONE HAND, LARA’S insubordination drove Reid crazy. He was used to military rule, where the superior officer’s word was law. On the other hand, he would have said the same thing in her place. He respected her for that.

  He scanned the bridge and the woods on the other side of the river again, grateful for the moonlight. He could pick out the glint of a long-range rifle on the bridge. A sniper. A bad one at that, if he let himself be seen that easily. Then he made out the figure of the man, too. Cade. Reid nodded in acknowledgment, and Cade did the same in response, then pulled back into the shadows, becoming virtually impossible to detect the next second.

  “Cade’s here. He’ll be securing the area and providing cover if anything goes south. If there’s any gunfire, don’t shoot at the bridge.”

  She whipped her head around to look. Her mouth was set tight, her arms wrapped around her torso. She was practically vibrating with nerves. “I don’t see anything.”

  “That’s the point. Keep your gun at hand, but out of sight,” he told her when two black SUVs pulled up. Since the windows were tinted, he had no idea how many enemies he was facing.

  Four got out.

  He pushed his door open and stepped outside, leaving the car door open for cover. “Before we do anything, I want to see the children,” he said in the way of greeting.

  “Do you have the CD?”

  “Do you have the kids?”

  The men went for their guns, bringing the hardware out into the open. So did he.

  Four more bastards got out of another vehicle. And this time, when the doors opened, he could see that there was nobody else in the cars now but the two drivers.

  This wasn’t an exchange.

  The men were here for the CD, all right, but they had no intention of letting him and Lara leave.

  “Okay. Let’s see if I got what you came for.” He stepped toward the back door, opened it and took out a single ampoule from the biohazard cooler, set it on the hood of the car in its protective plastic holder. “Actually, I have something better than the CD.”

  One of the men was on his cell already. Probably talking to the boss. The others moved forward.

  “What the hell is that?” the heftiest of them demanded.

  “I think you know. I have the rest, too. Not here, of course. I have your whole order. Jason might be a misunderstood scientific genius, but he’s a coward. He wasn’t exactly willing to protect the goods with his dead body.”

  The man on the cell phone was still talking.

  Reid pocketed the ampoule. “Now, how about we try another exchange, and this time we both mean it?”

  Lara chose that moment to step from the car. “Please take me with you. Please take me to
my babies. You’ll have an extra hostage.” She moved toward the men, who looked confused and nervous at her unexpected play.

  They didn’t know what her game was. They probably weren’t used to people begging them to be kidnapped.

  “Lara.” He tried to put as much warning into his voice as possible.

  But her face, white as the moonlight, was set in a mask of determination as she marched forward, her body rigid with fear.

  “Stop right there,” one of the men said and raised his weapon.

  The others followed his example. There was more than one finger twitching on a trigger. While most of the thugs looked like seasoned criminals, the two youngest seemed pretty green. They weren’t going to be able to keep cool long under pressure. And the tension was palpable in the air. One wrong word, one wrong move could set off fireworks.

  Lara took another step forward. “I’ll take care of the babies while you negotiate so they won’t be any trouble. It’ll be easier for you.” She took another step, her arms out in an entreating gesture. She had left her gun in the car.

  Despite the cold, a bead of sweat rolled down Reid’s temple. He could have strangled her. This was why you didn’t bring a civilian to a hostage exchange, dammit. He watched as one of the younger guys locked his elbows, his eyes narrowing as he went for the shot.

  Reid had no other option but to shoot first, yelling, “Get down!” to Lara at the same time.

  She had enough sense to listen, hit the ground hard and roll back toward the car, accepting at last that she wasn’t going to get her way.

  The next second Reid was on the ground, too, returning fire. Thank God, the shots coming from the bridge divided the enemy.

  Reid was almost back at the car when he was hit in the hip. Which wouldn’t support his weight now to get up and out of harm’s way.