The Spy Who Came For Christmas

by Cynthia Eden

  “I-I…I think you should go now, Gray.”

  He didn’t want to go. He—

  Some men can’t take no for an answer.

  His gaze slid over Jemma’s face. He could practically feel her fear. And rage pulsed through him. “Was it the dumbass in that truck? Is he the one?”

  “The one?”

  “The one who taught you to fear men.” To fear me. “Because I can promise you, sweetheart, that isn’t who I am.” He kept his voice low, calm, even as fury seemed to claw at his insides. Not pulsing now. Way stronger.

  “You should go.” Her voice was softer now.

  “I’ll always do what you want.” He gave her a smile. Even though it was damn hard to smile as rage tightened his body. “Remember that about me, will you? You don’t ever have to be afraid of me.” But it was there, her fear, and he hated it. He hadn’t seen it before, or maybe he’d just been too blinded by his own need. Now he knew…

  Someone had hurt Jemma.

  Someone was going to pay.

  He reached for her hand.

  She flinched again. He didn’t like that. Not at all. “I’ll never hurt you.” His promise to her. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you for dinner, Jemma. I think that was the best dinner I’ve ever had.” And that was the honest truth. He held her hand for just a moment more and then he let her go. He stepped back, started to leave, then stopped. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

  She didn’t speak.

  “I’d like to see you again.” Say yes, Jemma. Say yes. He didn’t know why she was so important to him, but…

  This couldn’t be it. Not the end. Something was happening between them—something more than just the giant erection he was sporting for her. Yeah, I want her like crazy but this is more than just sex. This is…Jemma.

  “I get off work at five tomorrow,” she said, voice hesitant. It was almost as if she’d just confessed a state secret.

  Of course, he knew all about those.

  A smile spread across Grayson’s face. “Then I’ll meet you at the shop.” Because he had a new mission now…

  A mission to get Jemma to trust him. To open up to him.

  “Good night, Gray. I…enjoyed being with you.”

  Enjoyed, huh? “I’ll see you, tomorrow, sweetheart.” He gave her a little salute and he turned away. But Grayson didn’t leave. Not until he heard her turn the lock behind him.

  Then he headed for his SUV. Grayson jumped inside.

  The night had been going so well, then that asshole had ruined things.

  Time to pay a little visit to that Matthew jerk. Time for him to realize…no one scares Jemma.

  He pulled away from her house.

  ***

  When she heard Gray’s vehicle drive away, Jemma peeked out of the window. Her fingers curled around the curtains and she stared into the night.

  Some men just can’t take no for an answer.

  As soon as he’d said those words, she’d slipped into the past. Back into the nightmare that had become her life when she’d been nineteen years old.

  She’d gone to college, left Holly so confident and excited…

  And she’d come back, afraid, hurt, and lost.

  I couldn’t trust anyone again. Getting close was so hard. It was still hard. She had a few friends in town—like Brad, Ella and Nora, but even they didn’t know the truth about what had happened to her so long ago.

  I thought it was better not to talk about it. To just bury it deep. To pretend it hadn’t happened. Or maybe…maybe that it had happened to someone else.

  Not me.

  Not. Me.

  She let the curtains slip away from her. She was twenty-six now. And she was so tired of carrying her past around, feeling it like chains wrapped around her ankles, dragging her back.

  She wanted to break free.

  Grayson is one of the good guys. He is Brad’s friend. He stood up for me in that restaurant. He was so careful with me…

  She wanted her life back. Wanted to stop looking over her shoulder.

  For years, she’d shut out the other men who’d come close to her. But Grayson…with him, she had really wanted things to be different.

  I can make this work. I can be stronger.

  She would be stronger.

  ***

  Grayson braked his SUV in front of the town gym. Hell, even that place had a cutesy holiday name. Frosty’s Fitness. He saw Brad’s patrol car there, and he was glad the guy had beat him to Matthew’s place.

  This way, I won’t hurt the guy…too much.

  Grayson bounded up the steps. Jemma had told him that Matthew had an apartment right over the gym, and it was time he had it out with that jerk. No one was going to scare Jemma. He took the stairs that led up to that little apartment and pounded his fist on the door.

  It opened about two seconds later, only Matthew wasn’t the one standing there. It was Brad, and the guy’s expression was grim.

  “Tell me you can lock up that joker,” Grayson snarled. “The creep just came out there to scare Jemma, he—”

  “Matthew’s inside—he’s puking his guts out in the bathroom. Seems like he definitely had too much to drink at the holiday parties tonight.” Brad’s mouth tightened. “And there’s a problem…a big one.”

  Grayson’s hands were fisted at his sides. My problem is Matthew. He’s—

  “Matthew said he hasn’t left since you threw him out of the restaurant.”

  Technically, Grayson hadn’t thrown the guy out. Technically.

  “But his ride is gone,” Brad revealed. “Someone took his truck and he’s saying—”

  “Someone stole my ride!” Matthew’s yell easily reached Grayson.

  Brad sighed. “Yeah, that’s what he’s saying. That while he was in here, uh, distracted, someone took his truck. He swears that he wasn’t anywhere near Jemma’s place.” He glanced over his shoulder, then back at Grayson, “And judging by his piss poor condition, I believe him. That guy couldn’t drive a car right now if his life depended on it.”

  Grayson’s muscles tightened. This whole scene—it didn’t feel right to him. Who was driving that truck? If not Matthew…

  “I’ve got an APB out for the vehicle. It will turn up,” Brad said, nodding. “I mean, we don’t have a lot of vehicle thefts up here in Holly. It could just be some tourist, some out-of-town kid who thought a joy ride would be fun.”

  “No.” Grayson was adamant. “That wasn’t a joy ride. The driver went straight up to Jemma’s house, nearly right on her damn porch. He was there, trying to scare her.”

  And the driver had only left…

  When I came running out.

  Shit. He spun on his heel and bounded back down those steps.

  “Wait, Gray! Stop!”

  He didn’t stop.

  “Dammit, when a sheriff yells stop,” Brad huffed as he raced after Gray. “You’re supposed to stop!”

  Grayson whirled toward him. “I need to get back to Jemma.”

  Brad grabbed his arm. “Why?”

  “Because…” I think she could be in danger. Wasn’t that obvious?

  “You came here, looking for a safe place to crash. I get that, man.” The light from the street lamp fell onto Brad’s face, showing his somber expression. “But tell me…tell me you didn’t bring trouble with you.”

  Grayson started to tell him that, hell, no, he hadn’t brought trouble. But those words wouldn’t come out because the truth of the matter was—his life had always been about danger. Sure, he’d been hiding his real identity. He’d been someone else, somewhere else, but that had been part of the job.

  And he’d tied up his last case. The case that had gone straight to hell in a handbasket and left two other operatives dead. He’d barely managed to escape with the needed intel and his partner…

  I won’t be seeing him again.

  “It’s not like you can turn it off,” Brad continued, his voice hushed. “Once a spy, always a spy,
right?”

  Brad had been pulled into one of Grayson’s missions two years ago. He’d gotten clearance from those in power at the CIA and he’d learned the truth about Grayson’s work.

  “So I need to know…” Brad’s hand tightened on his arm. “Did you bring trouble with you to my town? What do I need to be watching out for?”

  Grayson shook his head. “No one should have followed me.” Because he wasn’t the same guy that he’d been in Paris or Madrid or Moscow. Each job brought him a new identity. But he wasn’t any of those aliases right then—he was just Gray.

  Brad studied him a moment, then he let Grayson go. “You should stay away from Jemma.”

  “Not happening.” The words were out before he even had a chance to think. An instinctive response. Primal. He needed to be close to her.

  “Come on, Gray. You just met the woman. There are plenty of eligible women in this town—gorgeous women.”

  Now he was getting pissed. “Jemma is gorgeous!”

  “Hell, yeah, I get that but Jemma…Jemma is special.”

  His eyes narrowed on Brad. Hadn’t they gone over this shit? He was sure he’d told the sheriff to back off. If he hadn’t been clear enough before, he was about to be crystal.

  “She’s been through a lot.” Brad’s voice had gone grim. “I got worried about her because I knew she was different when she came back from college. And I did some digging. Maybe I shouldn’t have, maybe I should have minded my own damn business—”

  “You’ve never been too good at that,” Grayson cut in to say. But he didn’t mean those words in a bad way. Brad just…he was Brad. Always trying to help other people, even when he should just be protecting himself. Only Brad never got that—he thought he was there to save the world.

  I used to think the same way. But too many missions that went bad—they changed me. He’d been burned too many times. Lies and deception. Never knowing who to trust…it got old.

  “Jemma doesn’t want people to know about what happened to her, and I’m not going to tell her secrets because I happen to value the woman’s friendship. Hell, if she even found out that I’d dug up the files…” Brad’s voice trailed away.

  The files?

  Brad exhaled slowly. “All I will say is that Jemma was hurt. She came back here, and I think she’s been hiding ever since. Jemma needs protection. She needs safety. What she doesn’t need…” And once more, Brad’s words just seemed to fall away.

  But this time, Grayson knew just how his friend had been intending to finish his sentence.

  What she doesn’t need is you.

  “Don’t be too sure you know Jemma. Or what she needs.” Grayson stalked away and opened his driver’s side door. “And let me know when you turn up that truck. Because I’d sure like to have a nice little sit-down with the joy riding asshole.” Not that I buy that story. Not for a minute.

  “Right. Like you know how to have a friendly sit-down. At the CIA, I think they just teach you guys about torture sessions.” Brad’s voice was a faint rasp. “Listen, just remember what I said, okay?”

  He’d remember, but that didn’t mean he’d listen.

  Grayson cranked up the SUV, revved the engine, and…he drove back to the one place that he needed to be.

  With Jemma.

  Chapter Four

  She heard the growl of an engine—a sound that seemed to be coming from right outside her house. Jemma lived at the end of the road, a long, twisting road, and she sure hadn’t expected another visitor at that time of night. So when she heard the growl, she jumped out of her bed and peered through the blinds in her bedroom.

  Outside, she saw an SUV. Grayson’s SUV. And that was Grayson jumping out of the vehicle and marching toward her door. As fast as she could, Jemma grabbed a robe and yanked it around her. Then she ran for the front door. He was knocking on that door even as she fumbled with the locks.

  Why is he back? What happened?

  She opened the door—but not fully. Jemma kept her chain in place as she stared at him. After all, it was the middle of the night and maybe thoughts of her past had been haunting her. Telling me not to take risks.

  After all…once burned…

  “Jemma.” He sighed out her name. Made it sound sexy. Made it sound as if he needed her.

  “Wh-what are you doing back here?” She tried to look past him, to see if he’d brought Brad with him. But since the door was only open about two inches, she couldn’t make out very much.

  “Jemma, let me in. I want to talk with you.”

  “It’s late. After midnight.” And she was getting more nervous by the moment. She’d bought her house because it was secluded, because she liked being away from everyone else and their prying eyes. But right then, she sure wouldn’t have minded a nosy neighbor or two.

  “Are you afraid of me?” He seemed horrified by the very idea. “Jemma, I had you in my arms tonight. I was kissing you.”

  As if she’d forgotten. “We don’t know each other that well.”

  “The sheriff vouches for me.”

  She still hesitated.

  “I swear, Jemma, I would never hurt you. That isn’t who I am.”

  The problem was that she wasn’t sure who he really was. Or maybe I don’t even know who I actually am.

  “You need to know this—Brad said that wasn’t Matthew up here tonight.”

  She shook her head. “It was his truck.” Jemma was definite on this one. She knew that vehicle. All the locals did.

  “Yeah, well, seems Matthew is puking his guts out at home, and while he was busy hugging the toilet, someone stole his ride. Stole it and came up here, looking to scare you.”

  Her hand tightened on the door. “Why would someone do that?”

  His head cocked. Her porch light fell onto him. “I don’t know, sweetheart.” His voice was very gentle. “You want to tell me? You got any enemies I need to know about? Enemies I need to take care of for you?”

  Take care of—Her eyes widened. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I don’t like the idea of anyone hurting you. Not ever.”

  She swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat.

  “I want to stay here tonight.”

  Okay, now she’d misheard.

  “On the couch,” Grayson said quickly. “Just on the couch. I don’t like that the driver of that truck was just out there—and you’re isolated on this road. Let me keep you company, just in case, all right?”

  “I’m perfectly safe.” She had a gun in her nightstand. She had Brad on speed dial. She had an alarm system in place.

  “Yeah, you probably are,” he agreed. “But I don’t think I’d be able to sleep if I left. I’d just worry about you all night long.”

  Her lips pressed together.

  “The couch,” he said again. “Just the couch. And once Brad gets that creep, I swear, I’ll be gone.”

  Her chest ached. “You have some kind of white knight complex, don’t you?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Liar.” She hesitated. “Give me a minute, okay?”

  “Jemma—”

  She shut the door. Then, yeah, she used speed dial and got Brad on the phone.

  “Jemma!” Alarm flared in Brad’s voice. “What’s wrong? You need me? I am on the way—”

  “Can I trust Grayson Cole?”

  Silence.

  Oh, damn, that wasn’t good. “Brad?”

  “He’s not a criminal. And I’ve never known him to so much as lift a finger toward an innocent.”

  Her breath rushed out. “That’s hardly a ringing endorsement.” Why couldn’t he just say…Yeah, you can totally trust Gray. He’s one of the good guys. Friends were supposed to say that about their friends, weren’t they? “He’s on my doorstep, saying that he wants to sleep on my couch.” And she was rambling. “Something about Matthew’s truck being stolen and—”

  “You can count on Gray to keep you safe.” Now Brad sounded gruff. “If he’s there, trying to offer y
ou protection, let him.”

  She was missing something. “Is…everything okay?”

  “I’m trying to figure that shit out now.” His words were muttered. “Look, Gray has the highest clearance, okay? If there is any threat, trust me, Gray can handle it. Just…don’t go giving him your heart, okay, Jemma? Let him keep you safe tonight, that actually sounds like one damn good idea to me, but…don’t let it go any further. You don’t want that.”

  Brad was her friend. She liked him. She respected him. But he had no idea what she wanted. “Thank you.” She hung up the phone even though he’d been calling her name again.

  She put the phone on a nearby table and her fingers unhooked the chain on her door. She opened the door and found Grayson standing just where he’d been before.

  He lifted a brow at her. “Did I check out okay?”

  “Well enough.” She cleared her throat. “Brad says you’re good at protection.” But that I need to watch myself with you.

  Grayson stepped over the threshold and came into her house. She didn’t back away, so their bodies brushed. “I do rather excel at that,” he said.

  She tilted her head back as she stared up at him. “I really…don’t think you staying here is necessary.” And if she’d had a different past, she probably would have sent him away. But…

  I don’t have a different past. I have demons. I have pain. I hate them all.

  Grayson’s hand rose and curled under her chin. “What do I have to do…” Grayson murmured. “To make you trust me?”

  She didn’t know. Jemma backed away, quickly, but as soon as she was near the couch, she was missing his touch already. Grayson shut and locked the door. She reset the alarm. She grabbed him some extra covers and pillows and she put them on the couch as quickly as she could.

  Her robe skimmed the tops of her thighs. It was made of soft cotton and she normally loved the feel of it against her skin, but right then…

  Grayson’s eyes were on her legs.

  She tried to tug down the edge of that robe a bit more.

  He licked his lips. His gaze had heated and all of a sudden, her heart was sure beating fast. She looked at the couch and remembered being on it, with him. Having his body pressed to hers. Feeling his mouth against hers.