by Cynthia Eden
The man she wanted.
The man she…loved?
***
Grayson Cole was a man of his word.
Jemma stretched in the bed, her muscles aching, but in an oh-so-good way. They’d had sex again. And again.
She’d come…three times? Four?
I think I’ll make a new chocolate. One for my special reserve. Gray had inspired her. The new treat would be called The Perfect Sin.
The lamp was off. Her clothes were still scattered around the room, and Grayson had his arm wrapped around her. She couldn’t remember feeling this safe before. This…happy.
His lips brushed against her temple, a gentle kiss good night. Her breath sighed out as her eyes slowly closed.
Being with Grayson felt like some kind of dream. A dream after her nightmare.
If it is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.
Chapter Eight
The sound of jingle bells woke Grayson. He cracked an eye open, groaning because—he wasn’t actually hearing jingle bells, was he?
But the bells just kept ringing. He forced his other eye open.
“That’s my phone,” Jemma said. “Sorry.” She crawled over him—and he sure liked that. She grabbed for her phone and his hands settled around the curve of her hips. “It’s, um, the ring tone I assigned to Brad. You know, because he’s Santa and all.”
His lips wanted to twitch so he let them. When was the last time he’d woken up, smiling?
Try never before.
She was wearing his shirt, looking sexy as all hell with her tousled hair, and he really just wanted to tumble her right back into bed. But she’d answered the call. She’d put Brad on speaker so he could hear the sheriff, too.
“I wish I was calling with good news,” Brad said, sighing. “But your mystery guy has vanished. My guess is he’s staying low for now. Trying to wait for our attention to shift so he can get his ass out of the area.”
Not the words Grayson had wanted to hear.
“I’ll keep a patrol near your shop,” Brad added. Voices rose in the background. “And at your house. I’ll make sure deputies are circling by there, too.”
A circle wasn’t going to help anything. They needed to find this guy.
“You would not believe the shit I am dealing with in this town.” Brad’s voice suddenly sounded very tired. “Not just the normal Christmas craziness. Things are in overdrive.”
The only thing that mattered to Grayson was Jemma’s safety. “I’m going to stay with Jemma.” His voice was definite. “Twenty-four, seven. Until we catch that bastard, just consider me her bodyguard.”
Jemma sucked in a sharp breath.
And Brad went dead silent.
Grayson stared into Jemma’s eyes. She was still straddling him and his hands were curled possessively around her hips. He’d come to Holly in order to recharge. To figure out the rest of his life—
Jemma is the rest. She’s everything I ever wanted.
“Like that, is it?” Brad finally asked.
“Yeah, it’s like that.”
Jemma’s brow wrinkled. “Are you two speaking in man code? I hate man code.”
Grayson winked at her.
“If I learn anything else, you can bet I’ll be calling back,” Brad assured them. “And if you need me, call me. Text me. Get me. I’ll always have your back.”
A few moments later, they ended the call. Jemma started to slide off Grayson, but he tightened his hold on her. “You need to tell him.”
She stilled. “Tell him what?”
“Jemma…” He shook his head. “He’s the sheriff. He needs to know about your past.” Though based on what Brad had said to him before, Grayson suspected the guy already did know. Shit, I more than suspect it.
“Gage is dead. Whatever is happening here, it can’t be related to him.” Jemma was adamant. “I don’t know why someone is targeting me, but it doesn’t have anything to do with him. That was years ago.”
“When someone wants revenge, time doesn’t matter. They can wait as long as necessary.” Hadn’t he learned that truth? On his last mission, hell, he’d realized just how wrong he’d been to put his faith in his partner. The guy had been working against the agency all along. Chuck had been furious with the CIA because he blamed them for the death of his girlfriend, a former Russian intelligence officer who’d been gunned down by her own people after a leak at the CIA had allowed them to learn that she’d been trading secrets to the Americans.
Chuck’s rage hadn’t burned red-hot. It had been ice cold. He’d been calculating. He’d slowly worked his way through the chain of command until he’d found those responsible for that leak.
And then he started taking them out. One at a time. Taking out anyone and everyone he thought had been involved in her death. Chuck wouldn’t stop…not until I stopped him.
On a mission gone to hell. A mission that had ended with two dead CIA operatives…and one of the dead had been Chuck.
Chuck…always so quick to smile. A fake smile that had hidden his pain.
Because he really fucking loved her. And without Lada, he broke.
“You sound as if you’re speaking from personal experience,” she murmured.
“I am.” A grim, hard truth. “I’ve seen the lengths that people will go to in order to achieve their revenge. I had a partner…he turned on the Agency. Turned on his own teammates, and he destroyed anyone in his path.”
“I’m sorry.”
So was he. “I thought I could trust him. I was wrong.” He’d almost paid for that mistake with his life. He exhaled slowly and stared into her eyes. “We need to dig into Gage’s life. If there’s someone out there who might have a reason to blame you, to come looking for you, then I will stop him.”
Her fingers trailed over his chest. “I don’t want you hurt.”
“Jemma—”
“Look, Super Spy, you aren’t bullet proof. No one is. And we can find the guy who is doing this—we will find him, but I want you safe. I want us safe.” She leaned toward him and pressed a quick kiss to Grayson’s lips. “Because I’ve discovered that I’m quite fond of you.”
I’m more than just fond of you, sweetheart. I think I love you—and that scares the hell out of me.
Her gaze drifted to the right, to the clock on his nightstand. “Ohmygosh…” She tried to jump off him, but he just held her tighter. “Grayson…” His name came out on a sweet sigh. “I’d love to stay naked with you all day—”
Good to know.
“—but I’ve got to get to the shop! The Winter Wonderland Festival is coming up, and I need to get the last of the chocolate ready.”
“The Winter what?”
“Wonderland Festival.” Her smile flashed. “It’s a Holly thing. And, like I said, though I would absolutely love to stay naked in this bed with you, if I don’t get to the shop, there is going to be a serious chocolate panic when I don’t bring those orders in for the festival.”
His fingers tightened on her. “How much would you like to stay?”
“Gray…”
“How about…stay a little? And we’ll be fast?”
Her eyes widened. “How…fast?”
He tumbled her back onto the bed. Took her mouth with his.
Not that, fast, sweetheart. Not that fast.
***
She’d stayed in bed with Grayson far too long.
But she’d sure enjoyed the hell out of that time.
Jemma jumped out of Grayson’s SUV. “I just need to run inside my place and get some fresh clothes. Five minutes, ten tops.” She slammed the door, but Grayson had already turned off the vehicle. Figured he’d follow her. He was definitely in his protective mode.
And she liked it. He was sexy when he did the Super Spy thing. Actually, she rather thought he was always sexy.
She unlocked her door and hurried in. Her alarm was beeping and she quickly typed in her code to reset it. A glance over her shoulder showed her that Grayson was pacing near the fro
nt door. “Be right back,” she promised him.
Jemma hurried down the hallway. She pushed open the door to her bedroom, stepped forward and—
A hard hand grabbed her from behind. She opened her mouth to scream, but her attacker whirled her around. His right hand came up, fast, and in that hand, he had a gun.
He shoved that gun under her chin.
“Make a sound,” he rasped, “and I will shoot you here and now.”
Jemma stilled.
He’d been behind the door. Hiding here, in my bedroom.
He’d gotten past her alarm. Gotten in her house. He’d been waiting…and I have no idea who he is.
Frantic, her gaze raked over his face. A weak chin, stubble-lined jaw. Roman nose. Dark brown eyes. Blond hair.
I don’t know him. I’ve never seen him before in my life.
“I’m really sorry about what’s going to come,” he told her, still keeping his voice low. Because he knows Grayson is here. He must have heard Gray talking with me. “It’s not personal. Know that. You’re just…caught in the crossfire, so to speak.”
She started to shake her head, but stopped—the gun is too close.
“You’re his weakness,” he continued as that gun barrel jabbed her even harder. “And after what he did, Gray has to get the payback coming his way.”
And she understood.
Grayson had been right. It was about revenge. But the attacker didn’t want to pay her back for what she’d done in the past.
This is about Gray. He wants to hurt Gray.
A smile spread across the blond man’s face. “I’ve waited for this moment.”
In her mind, Jemma was screaming. As loudly and as desperately as she could. But she stood before him, frozen, not speaking at all.
And she tried to figure out just how she and Grayson were going to survive.
Chapter Nine
He needed to get Jemma a Christmas present. Gray stared at her tree—and at the presents under Jemma’s beautiful tree—and realized that he’d have to do some serious shopping soon.
And, hell, when was the last time I went Christmas shopping? He didn’t have a clue, but he’d hit the streets later. Find something that would make Jemma smile. They could unwrap presents together on Christmas morning. Maybe she’d even share more of that special chocolate with him…
The floor creaked behind him. He turned around, smiling. “Jemma, what would you like for—” His words ended.
It seemed as if his whole life ended right then.
Because Jemma was standing there, her eyes wide and terrified, her skin far too pale, and his ex-partner, Chuck Bradshaw, stood beside her. Chuck—fucking Chuck—had his gun jabbed under Jemma’s jaw.
“Be careful,” Grayson said, the words torn from him. “You’re bruising her.”
“Oh, buddy…” Chuck laughed—the grating laughter that Grayson remembered too well. “Before I’m done, I’ll do a lot more than just bruise her.”
No, you won’t. Grayson dragged his gaze off Jemma. He focused on the bastard who’d dared to hurt her. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Why? Because you put three bullets in me and left me in a snow-covered field in Europe? Probably should have come closer. Actually checked to see if I had a pulse.” Chuck shook his head. “But you were under orders, right? Get on the chopper. Get out of there…and leave the traitor behind.”
Yes, he had been under orders. “Let her go.” How the hell had Chuck gotten back into the country? And found me?
“I’m not letting her go. If I did that, then you’d do something stupid, like charge at me. Maybe you’d whip out another knife and stab me again.”
Jemma’s eyes widened, just a bit, but she didn’t make a sound.
“No, that isn’t how this works. I planned it, you see. During the long damn night while I was waiting for her to come home.”
Grayson took a slow, gliding step forward.
“Stop, Gray.” Chuck’s order was given with a cold smile. “Stop right there. You think I don’t know your moves? I do. I worked with you in the field for two years. I know everything about you.”
Think, Grayson, think. “I didn’t know everything about you,” Grayson threw back at him, trying to keep the guy’s attention. Focus on me. Not Jemma. “I didn’t know that you were a traitor, not until the director showed me the proof. You’d been hunting your own team members—”
“Because they sold her out! Gave up Lada like she was nothing!” Chuck’s taunting smile was gone as spittle flew from his mouth. “She was gunned down like an animal. My Lada. I lost her—and I lost everything!”
“You attacked CIA operatives—”
“I took out the fools who should have protected her. I eliminated them.”
“You went rogue. You were a danger to everyone, and you know it. Jesus, man, look at yourself. You have a gun to Jemma’s head. A gun. She’s not CIA. She’s a civilian. What are you doing?”
Chuck blinked. He looked at Grayson, then the gun, then Jemma. He seemed a bit confused, but he muttered, “She’s your everything. Just like Lada was mine. When you lose everything, what else is there to live for?”
No. Terror clawed at Grayson’s chest. “Hurt me. Like you said, I’m the one who left you there. I was the one who stopped you from killing all the agents on your list.” Because Chuck had been wrong. Those men and women hadn’t betrayed him or Lada. Lada had been a double-agent. Her secrets had come tumbling out and no one had been able to keep her safe. She’d betrayed both sides and paid with her life. That was why the leak had occurred. She’d gotten caught selling out both countries.
“I am going to hurt you.” A frown pulled at Chuck’s brow. “That’s the point of all this. You care for her. I think you even love her. I saw the way you look at her. At that damn ice skating rink, I heard you laugh with her.” The gun was still under Jemma’s chin. “So you will hurt when she dies. When she screams and begs and bleeds, you will hurt.”
Grayson shook his head. “Don’t, Chuck. Don’t.”
But Chuck was long past the point of sanity, he knew that. And Grayson prepared to attack. He just needed that gun to move away from Jemma. Sweetheart, I am so fucking sorry. He’d brought this danger to her. She’d given him love and laughter and joy and he’d done this.
He wanted to pull her into his arms. Wanted to shield her from every hurt.
But…he’d been the threat to her, all along. His past. The danger that was his life.
He’d done this.
“Jemma…” Her name was torn from him. His gaze met hers. “I love you.” He needed her to know that. Because, hell, yes, he was ready to take a bullet for her. Ready to die for her and kill for her. Whatever it takes.
She smiled at him. A faint, ripping-my-heart-out smile.
“Isn’t that fucking sweet,” Chuck muttered. “She can know you love her before the real fun starts.” He laughed. “Jemma…I bet she’ll be such a good girl. Doing exactly what I say, right? She’ll—”
“You don’t know Jemma,” Grayson cut in. Jemma is a fighter. Jemma is strong. She took out a killer once before…
But Chuck was still laughing, and when he laughed, he moved the gun away from her jaw, just one inch. One precious inch. “Sure I know her. Delicate little chocolatier. Everyone in town told me how sweet she was. Good old Jemma White—”
Grayson lunged forward.
But Jemma had moved, too. She’d whipped her body to the side and driven her fist into the guy’s right shoulder—the shoulder Grayson’s knife throw had injured the other night.
Chuck howled in pain and he staggered back. Then his face twisted with fury as he drove at Jemma.
Only Grayson was in his path.
“No,” Grayson told him softly, coldly. “You don’t hurt her.” And with his right hand, he grabbed Chuck’s wrist—the wrist that held that gun. One brutal twist, and Chuck’s wrist snapped. Then Grayson head butted the bastard, breaking Chuck’s nose and sending blood gushing down
his former partner’s face.
The gun fell to the floor. Grayson didn’t stop to pick it up—there was no time. Chuck charged at him again. They’d both been trained to fight through any pain, and they pummeled each other. Swinging hard, attacking with fists and fury.
Grayson caught Chuck and slammed the guy into the nearest wall. Photos fell and a mirror shattered when it hit the floor. Chuck’s foot flew out, trying to trip Grayson, but he wasn’t about to go down alone. He dragged Chuck with him.
“Fucking bastard!” Chuck yelled at him.
I’m not the one who turned on the Agency. Who coldly murdered other agents.
They hit the floor. The chunks of the mirror cracked beneath their bodies. Grayson grabbed for one of the bigger shards of that broken glass. His fingers curled around it and he yanked it up, ready to use it as a knife. He sliced his new weapon toward Chuck’s waiting throat.“Stop!” Jemma yelled.
The shard of glass had cut open the skin just above Chuck’s jugular. Blood slid from the small wound.
Every instinct Grayson possessed told him to finish the job. To end Chuck. This sonofabitch had come after him and Jemma. Chuck had been planning to torture her.
He can’t ever get near her again.
Keeping that glass against Chuck’s throat, Grayson’s head slowly turned toward Jemma. She had Chuck’s gun in her hand, and she had it aimed at the former CIA operative.
“I’ve got him, Gray,” Jemma said. Her hand was rock steady on the gun. “You don’t…you don’t have to do anything else.” Her voice was ragged.
He knew what she was trying to tell him.
You don’t have to kill him. But the problem was…I want to kill him.
“Grayson.” This time, her voice was stronger, more determined. “Let’s call Brad. Or some of your CIA buddies. Or whoever we need to call in order to get him locked away. But…don’t do this, okay? We’ve got him. Stop.”
If he killed now, it would be in cold blood. Would she think he was a monster? Would he be a monster?
His gaze slid back to Chuck. And the sick jerk was grinning.
“Call the local sheriff,” Chuck rasped. “See what he can do. See what anyone can do. Because I’m not going to stop. I’ll keep coming. I’ll take away everything you care about. I’ll make you wish for death.”