by Lisa Jackson
Lucas, as commander, had held back, letting the local SWAT team handle the actual takedown. A deep satisfaction burned inside him as he watched the collection of drug runners led to squad cars. When the building had been secured and declared free of explosives and traps, he’d gone in and inspected the stash. Millions and millions of dollars in neatly bound bundles lined the floor.
Brody Winchester approached, carrying a cell phone. “You might be interested in this.”
“What?”
“This is a phone from one of the guys we arrested. Someone called in just before we raided the place. He left a message warning of the raid.”
“Who would know?”
Winchester grinned. “It’s got me curious, as well.” He held up the phone. “Do you recognize the number?”
Lucas glanced at it. “No.”
“Does the name Kyle Stone mean anything?”
“Marisa Thompson’s assistant’s name is Kyle.”
All traces of humor vanished. “Kyle’s made a lot of calls to this group.”
“Shit.”
Lucas reached for his phone and dialed Marisa’s number. She didn’t answer. “I don’t like this. I left her at home hours ago.”
Kyle’s gun trained on Marisa, she drove through the Hyde Park neighborhood, past several homes with children playing in the front yards. He dialed a number and when there was no answer, cursed. “So what’s next, Kyle? What happens? Do I just disappear, and you keep working at the university?”
“No one is answering my calls. That’s bad. It tells me that the Rangers did a lot of damage.”
She laughed as she gripped the wheel and turned the corner that led out of the neighborhood. “You really believe your drug dealing friends will forgive this?”
“I can make another code if I have to. And with you gone, there will be no one to break it.”
“Bradley might be able to.”
Kyle shook his head and almost looked amused. “He’s nowhere near the scholar you are. Without you his work has suffered.”
Up ahead, she spotted a Christmas tree lot on the side of the road. This close to Christmas it looked almost deserted because most anyone wanting a tree by now would have gotten it. Before she stopped to think, she slammed her foot on the accelerator and the car zoomed forward. Kyle couldn’t react fast enough as she twisted the wheel hard and drove straight for the trees. They plowed through several rows before slamming into the side of a small concrete building. At the moment of impact, the airbags deployed. She braced, remembering the feel of the impact.
Kyle grunted when his airbag hit him in the face.
Stunned, Marisa felt for her door handle, and unclicking her belt, rolled out of the car as her bruised body groaned and screamed from old and new injuries. She stumbled several steps, nearly tripped and fell, but caught herself and kept going.
“Marisa!” Kyle screamed her name as if it had been ripped from his chest. She didn’t look back. Kept running.
In the corner of her eye, she spotted the flash of lights. The squeal of sirens pierced her fear, but she didn’t dare stop, not knowing who else had arrived. She ran along the side alley of a Mexican restaurant. A dog barked. Her heart felt as if it would explode out of her chest. And as she rounded a corner, she stumbled to a stop when she saw the dead end. She had nowhere to go. Trapped.
She turned, fingers fisted, ready to run toward Kyle. When he appeared at the lip of the alley, he bore a red welt on the side of his face. Rage darkened his bloodshot eyes.
Kyle leveled the gun. “Bitch.”
Screaming, she ran toward him. She would die trying to stop him.
And then, a shot fired. Adrenaline kept her moving forward, and she didn’t stop until she saw Kyle fall to the ground. He dropped his gun and gripped his thigh, which had been torn and mangled by a bullet.
Sweat dripping from her brow, she looked around until she spotted him. Lucas. He’d held his gun outstretched, trained on Kyle, ready to fire again.
She stopped, her heart pulsing, her hands now trembling.
Lucas kept his gaze and gun on Kyle, who lay on the ground screaming. He kicked the gun away and cuffed Kyle seconds before more cops and Rangers arrived. When the Ranger had control of Kyle, Lucas lowered his weapon and holstered it.
Tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to touch Lucas and hold him. When his gaze locked on her, he crossed to her in three quick strides and wrapped her neatly in his arms. “I thought I’d lost you.”
She gripped handfuls of his shirt. “I’m too mean to die.” His shirt felt smooth against her cheek. “I love you.”
He pulled her back and studied her face. “Did you hear what you just said?”
She nodded. “I meant it. I love you, Lucas. I loved you in Mexico. And I think that’s what scared me.”
“I love you. Marry me. Now.”
She rose on tiptoes and kissed him. Excitement hummed through her body. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“I can find someone.”
“I’d like my dad and stepmother to be there. And Sherry and the boys.”
“That can be arranged.”
She laughed. “If you can make it happen, cowboy, I’m there. I’m ready for new Christmas memories.”
Epilogue
One Year Later
Christmas Eve, 7:00 P.M.
Lucas Cooper’s booted feet clipped hard against the tiled floor of Garrison Hall. Two teaching assistants spotted him, but their smiles died instantly when they saw his dark expression.
Not bothering to remove his hat, he moved past them and a collection of colored lights decorating the entrance and climbed the steps to the second floor two at a time. His entire focus rested on one thing: finding Marisa. Memories of arriving home and finding it dark and empty still haunted him and set his heart to racing anew. When he’d called out her name and she’d not answered, he’d called her cell. The instant her phone had gone to voice mail, he’d thought the worst as he’d raced toward her campus office. He’d already decided if he didn’t find her here, he’d put out an all-points bulletin.
At the second floor landing, he spotted the light in her office. Relief doused the dread. “Damn it,” he muttered.
He found her at her desk hunched over a collection of photographs that she’d taken during the spring dig at her Mayan ruin. They’d taken a belated two-week honeymoon in Mexico, one week on the beach and the second week exploring her ruins. She’d taken thousands of pictures.
As he moved toward her ready to scold he saw her hand slide to her very pregnant belly. She winced and the color in her cheeks faded from rosy to ashen white.
“Get your coat, Marisa. The doctor says you aren’t supposed to be here.”
She looked up, took several deep, even breaths, and nodded. “I know. I hadn’t planned to come in to work today. I’d planned to rest, but I had a breakthrough while I was napping today.”
He crossed to her desk in three quick strides and closed her laptop. “We’re leaving now. Doc says no more work until the baby is born.”
Her lips flattened into a thin line radiating a mixture of frustration and pain. “I’m nearly done.”
“Don’t care, darlin’.” He took her gently by the elbows and helped her to her feet. She leaned into him heavily, a sign she was exhausted. His tone softened. “You can take the laptop home and work. But you need to be in bed. Baby’s due any day.”
She smiled and smoothed her hand over her belly. “That’s what the doctor said last week.”
“Coopers are always on time,” he teased. “This baby has inherited his late timing from you.”
“I’m on time. For the most part.” She snatched up her satchel and tucked her laptop inside it as he wrapped her coat around her shoulders.
He took her bag and slung it on his shoulder. “Car’s out front.”
She tossed him a withering glare. “I’m not an invalid. Women have been having babies for millions of years.”
“Don’t care. This i
s the one and only as far as I’m concerned. Let’s go.”
He guided her slowly out of her office and down the hallway to the main doors. She wasn’t talking or complaining, both signs that she’d overdone it. She loved her work, and he was proud as hell of the passion she had for it. But enough was enough. Time to rest.
He opened the car door, and she lumbered into the seat. He was reaching for the seat belt when she winced again and this time closed her eyes as she breathed quickly.
His heart skipped a beat. “Damn it, Marisa, how long has this been going on?”
When the spasm passed, she released a relieved sigh. “A few hours. I was hoping to get my notes finished before we went to Dad’s for Christmas dinner.”
He muttered an oath. “We’re not going to dinner. We’re going to the hospital.”
She looked up at him and instead of arguing nodded. “Their Christmas presents and yours are in my car. I haven’t wrapped any of them.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll send someone for your car and the presents later.”
She smiled at him. “Okay.”
If he wasn’t so damn worried about her and the baby, he’d have made a joke about her agreeing so easily. But jokes were the last thing on his mind.
Behind the wheel he gunned the engine, cut through evening traffic, and had them at the hospital emergency room entrance in fifteen minutes. She gripped her belly as he came around to her side of the car. He could feel his own heart constricting as he stared at his wife, whom he loved more than anything in this world.
He spotted an orderly and ordered a wheelchair. The man hustled inside and returned moments later. Lucas helped Marisa from the car into the chair.
The next five hours became a blur of doctors, nurses, and more and more contractions. It was close to midnight when they wheeled Marisa into the delivery room. At her side Lucas did his best to look unworried as he reminded her to breathe and not push.
Not long after arriving in the delivery room, the action sped into overdrive. The doctor arrived and on her fifth push Marisa delivered their son. Jacob Alexander Cooper, eight pounds, one ounce, arrived in the world wailing and carrying on like a bronco rider.
When the nurse laid Jacob in Lucas’s arms, he figured he’d never seen such a beautiful sight. He knelt close to Marisa so she could see the baby. Smiling, she studied the baby up close, taking inventory. “He’s perfect,” she said.
He kissed her. “You did a real fine job, Mrs. Cooper.”
She glanced at the clock and then smiled at him. “He’s officially a Christmas baby,” she said.
“And the best damn present I ever will get.”
A SOUTHERN CHRISTMAS
MARY CARTER
I’d like to thank my editor, John Scognamiglio, and all the staff at Kensington who work so hard on every manuscript; my agent, Evan Marshall; and all the wonderful people I met in Wilmington, North Carolina. I would especially like to thank Sara Strassle for allowing me to tour her beautiful home and “use it” for the Christmas gala.
To Elijah and Amelia, who keep the spirit of Christmas alive.
Chapter 1
Danielle Bright and Nathaniel Hathaway walked hand in hand down the boardwalk. It was a picture-perfect Christmas Eve. There was a tiny nip in the air, and the skies were littered with stars. Boats along the river were decked out in Christmas lights and displays, floating their holiday cheer up and down the Cape Fear River. The horse and carriage was coming in for the night; the telltale clip-clop rang out even before the white beauty came into view. The driver treated the pair to a wink and a wave, and Dani and Nate smiled and waved back. The horse, a Percheron, was one of five rescued draft horses that they rotated in and out of short shifts. They were well-treated and friendly, like most folks about town.
The air had the smell of cookies just out of the oven. Dani could imagine racks of them cooling on counters up and down Front Street, awaiting icing and Santa. Dani smiled at the thought of all the children hyped up even before licking the bowl. She glanced at the skies as if trying to spot flying reindeer. The huge tourist paddleboat, the Henrietta, was just pulling in from its moonlight cruise. The ship honked its horn, as if winking at the young couple on the shore.
Nate’s hands were clammy, which wasn’t like him. She hoped he wasn’t coming down with something. They were having Christmas dinner at his grandmother’s house, and Danielle couldn’t imagine missing the exquisite feast. She absolutely loved going to Ruth Hathaway’s gorgeous historic home on Christmas. Oh, she loved spending the mornings with her parents and sister, of course, but there was no denying the special pull she had toward Ruth’s festivities.
Ruth Hathaway had a passion for the holidays that could not be beat. Her home always boasted the best decorations inside and out, the food and drink were a culinary dream, and not a single detail was ever overlooked, right down to chestnuts literally roasting over a roaring fire. And this year, Dani’s entire family was invited. Just thinking how special it would be infused Dani with the Christmas spirit. Beside her, Nate cleared his throat.
She would have to encourage him to take some vitamin C before bed, and if he woke up with the sniffles, he was just going to have to power through it. Just ahead towered the town Christmas tree. Dani and Nate were just a few feet from it when the scent of pine reached her nose. Dani stopped, dropped Nate’s hand, and gasped. “It’s live,” she said.
Nate grinned. “You got your wish this year,” he said. Normally, it was an artificial tree, something that really got to Dani. But this year. What a surprise. What a beauty she was.
“Did you know?” Dani asked Nate.
Nate nodded. “It’s a regal blue spruce specially cut from the mountains in Asheville.”
“It’s unbelievable. They did it. They finally did it.” The multicolored lights glittered like precious gems in the night. Just as they passed the tree, Nate stopped, swung her around, took her hands in his, and gazed into her eyes. There was a twinkle in his eye. Nate got down on one knee. The clues finally gelled. He was going to propose.
Before she could even think, her body reacted. She yanked him back up. He was off balance, and startled. She took a moment to look into his eyes. Normally a greenish-blue, next to the tree tonight they were the color of emeralds. A perfect contrast to his dark hair. He was such a handsome young man, and they had been happily going steady for three years. But she was only twenty-four. And they hadn’t had the talk yet, not really, about the future. To Danielle, it seemed a sure thing, but far off. At least three years. Even five. She wasn’t ready to settle down and have kids. And as much as she loved Wilmington, North Carolina, their little “Hollywood of the East,” she wanted to see other places before they started a life together. More specifically, she wanted to see New York. No, that wasn’t the exact truth. She didn’t just want to see New York. She wanted to be a part of New York; she wanted to live in New York. And Nate had stated numerous times that there was nowhere he’d rather be but right here. It was sweet, but it was also maddening. She had resolved to talk to him about it in the New Year.
“Nate,” she said. He smiled and squeezed her hands, and only then could she see how nervous he was. And how well dressed. Why hadn’t she noticed before that he was wearing his blue blazer? There were a few other people roaming about, but mostly they had the boardwalk to themselves. An older couple stopped to take a picture of the tree. Music was playing nearby. Danielle couldn’t tell where exactly it was coming from, but suddenly she realized what it was. Her favorite Christmas song, “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,” sung by the one and only Bing Crosby. Nate had planned that, too. He reached into his pocket. He was so nervous he wasn’t picking up on her attempts to stop him.
“Wait,” Dani said. The couple who had stopped to take the picture were openly staring in anticipation. Smiling. Holding the camera up, just waiting to get a snapshot of his face when she said, “Yes. I will. I will marry you.” Dani leaned down. “Pretend you’re t
ying your shoe,” she said.
“What?” Dani pointed to his shoe. He stared at it, then stared at her, and raised an eyebrow.
The words were out of her mouth before she could censor them, soften them. She clasped her hands as if she was the one proposing. She dropped to one knee, too, so that they were nose-to-nose. Anyone who saw them would probably think they were putting on some sort of strange nativity performance. Dani could have used the guidance of a wise man tonight, preferably all three. Or even a shining star to guide her. But all she had was herself. And the burning feeling in her gut that if he asked her now, there would never, ever be a later. “Please don’t ask me,” she said. “Please, not here. Not now.”
Nate’s eyes bore into hers for a few seconds, before he glanced behind her. At first, she was annoyed. He couldn’t be that upset if he was so easily distracted, if he didn’t even want to hear why she was stopping the proposal. Delaying the proposal. Of course she would marry Nate. Just later than sooner. They had all the time in the world. She turned around to see what had captured his attention. What a fright!
The boardwalk behind them was now teeming with people ready to celebrate. So many of them. Piling off the Henrietta’s moonlight cruise. All their friends and family, come to witness this romantic moment. Nate had timed everything perfectly. Passing the tree, stopping to gawk. The boat pulling in. The captain playing her favorite Christmas song. So that by the time she said yes, they would turn around to a thunderous cheer, and the popping of champagne. The horse and carriage was indeed waiting take one more spin that night, this time just for the luckiest couple in the world.
Slowly, it dawned on her. “You had the tree flown in,” she said.
“Just for you,” he replied.
Oh yes. Nate Hathaway had seen to every tiny detail. Every detail, but one. He had never counted on Danielle Bright saying anything other than a resounding “Yes.”