Federal Agent Under Fire

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “Looks like someone shot you,” Blake deadpanned. “You should probably get that looked at.”

  “It’s infected. That’s a point for you. I can’t go to a hospital. You’ve put my face and my truck all over the news. More points for you. You got ahead of me this time, but the game’s not over.” His brows furrowed and his mouth bent down in contempt. “I am taking this one before I go. I see how you look at her. I’ve seen you touch her. I know you want her, but she’s mine.”

  Blake’s gaze slid to Marissa. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her how he truly felt about her. That he’d fallen in love with her. That he needed her in his life because she made him want to be a better man, a better agent, and generally more than he thought was possible without her. If he screwed up again, he’d never get that chance.

  Marissa’s fierce expression set him off balance. Where he’d expected to find fear and agony, there was resolute determination. She narrowed her eyes on Blake and lifted one finger from Nash’s arm, where she clung for balance.

  Blake flicked his gaze to the seething killer, and Nash repositioned the blade against her ribs, ready to cut.

  “Say goodbye,” Nash demanded.

  Marissa lifted a second finger from his arm and began to suck and puff air in a wild show of panic.

  Nash turned his attention to her as she lifted a third finger from his arm and buckled her knees. He struggled to catch her weight with both hands, but she was limp and falling. A beautiful, brilliant dead weight that had completely broken Nash’s concentration.

  A deafening roar blasted through the cave as Blake’s finger connected with the trigger of his hidden gun. Nash’s head thrusted back, and the walls of the cave rattled. Nash landed on Marissa in a shower of rock and debris from above.

  Blake dove to her side, tossing rubble and throwing Nash’s body away from hers. He kicked the hunting blade through the cave’s open door, and hoisted Marissa into his arms. “I’ve got you.”

  She tied her hands around his neck and pressed her lips to his cheek. “You did it,” she whispered before resting her head against his swelling chest. “I knew you would.”

  A barrage of frantic voices beat against the wind, echoing and reverberating in the hills. The gunshot had surely drawn his team’s attention. Blake strode carefully through the cave door and into the rain. His men and a mass of deputies jogged along a plateau several yards up. “Agent Garrett,” someone called. “We heard gunfire.”

  “We need a medic,” Blake called back. He adjusted Marissa in his grip. “She needs stitches and an IV. Warm blankets. There’s a possible broken ankle, multiple lacerations. Extensive bruising and probably head trauma.” Her legs dangled over the crook of his arm.

  “Was she shot?” West called, running full speed along the plateau above.

  “No.” Blake shook his head. “Nash is dead. He’s in the cave.”

  Blake’s men continued past him to handle the crime scene.

  West stopped at his side. “Marissa.” He tipped his goofy sheriff’s hat and smiled. “You’re hard to get rid of.”

  She lifted a palm for a weak high five. “Like a bad rash.”

  “She needs medical attention,” Blake complained.

  “Here!” Cole raced into view, sliding through wet leaves and mud. The familiar silver stripes of a medical backpack gleamed in the waning sun. “The ski park sent an ATV to the plateau.” He pointed in the direction from which he’d come. “There’s an ambulance waiting just beyond that slope.” He reached for Marissa, but Blake stepped away.

  His eyes blurred with powerful unshed emotion. “I’ve got her.”

  And he had no intention of letting her go.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marissa peeled her heavy lids open and squinted against the bright fluorescent light. The scents of bleach and Band-Aids tickled her nose. “Blake,” she croaked, her throat impossibly dry.

  “She’s awake.” Her mother’s worried face swam into view.

  Her mother. Marissa’s frantic heart slowed by a fraction. She was safe. Nash was dead.

  Blake had saved her, but where was he now?

  “Thank goodness.” Marissa’s mother stroked her hair and kissed her cheeks. “We were terrified. You lost so much blood.”

  Marissa forced a smile on her tired face as she struggled for a better look at her surroundings. The simple hospital room was standard white on white with soft green accents and thick light-filtering curtains. The local news played softly on an old tube television anchored in the far corner near the ceiling. Nash’s picture was wedged in the bottom corner of the screen. It was a face she longed to never see again, but knew full well he’d visit her dreams every night for years. She lifted a hand to set upon her mother’s and discovered an IV line taped to her skin.

  Her father levered himself out of an uncomfortable-looking chair and joined Marissa’s mother at her bedside. Deep lines raced over her father’s forehead. “She’s got more color.”

  “You lost so much blood,” her mother repeated.

  “And Blake?” Marissa asked. “Did he go home?” Surely, he wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.

  “Knock knock.” A woman in a white lab coat sashayed through the door with a clipboard and a smile. “Good morning, Miss Lane. I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

  Marissa’s parents moved to the foot of her bed, eyes locked on the physician.

  “I’m Dr. Starcher,” the woman said. “I’ve been looking after you since your arrival last night.”

  “Thank you.” Marissa choked.

  The doctor poured a plastic cup of water from a bedside pitcher and handed it to her. “You had us all a little worried. I’m not sure how much your parents have had time to tell you, but you fractured your ankle. You have a mild concussion and were treated for hypothermia, multiple lacerations, extensive bruising and were given quite a few stitches for the cut on your leg.”

  Marissa blinked long and slow as the list of ailments and injuries settled in. She sipped the water and waited for her clogged throat to open again.

  “You’re one tough cookie,” the doctor continued, “but I’ll bet you’ve heard that a time or two.” She cast a warm smile at Marissa’s anxious parents before turning her attention to the pages on her clipboard. “After speaking to the agent and local sheriff about the week you’ve had, I’d say it’s a miracle you’re in as good of shape as you are.” She tucked the board under one arm and gazed at the machinery near Marissa’s bed. “All things considered, I guess dating a federal agent comes in handy at times like these.”

  “Agent Garrett?” Marissa guessed. Finally, someone who might tell her where he went.

  Sadly, she and Blake weren’t dating, but after all that they’d been through, she wished they were so much more. He was passionate and kind. Confident and funny. Blake had kept her safe but given her the space to be strong on her own. He trusted her choices, but always had her back. And that kiss. She smiled at the rising memory.

  Blake was the one who set her soul on fire.

  The doctor tipped her head toward the door. “That man hasn’t left since we moved you in here. He set up shop right outside and personally monitored every guest until dawn, my nurses included. I think he may have finally fallen asleep.”

  Marissa’s gaze jumped to the large silhouette suddenly filling her doorway. An exhausted-looking Blake leaned one shoulder against the jamb. Thick purple crescents underlined each sharp blue eye. A mix of relief and regret played over his handsome features.

  Her heart swelled with happiness. “No. He doesn’t sleep.” Marissa patted the bed beside her legs.

  The doctor bobbed her head. “There he is. I guess you’re right.” She gave Marissa a wink. “Everything looks good here. We’ll get you some crutches for your ankle and a prescription for the pain. The cast comes off in a few weeks, but I’ll
write up your release papers this afternoon. How does that sound?”

  “Wonderful,” her mother said. “She’ll be staying with us. I’ve made up her old room.”

  Marissa would have that discussion with her mom later. At the moment, she was afraid to take her eyes off of Blake in case he might disappear.

  Blake inched into the room and took position against the wall.

  “That sounds lovely.” The doctor waved her parents through the doorway. “Let’s talk a little more about that outside.” She pulled the door closed behind them.

  Marissa’s heart sprinted along in her chest. Blake had stayed. What did that mean?

  She patted her bed again.

  Regret won the fight over relief on Blake’s features. “I shouldn’t. I’m big, and that bed is small, and you’re covered in bruises. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Her gaze fell to her bare arms, visible in the ugly hospital gown. A rainbow of shades from brown to gold splayed over her pale skin. “Get over here.”

  His cheek twitched, and he obeyed, slowly. Blake stopped at her bedside and drifted his gaze over her face, neck and arms. “I’m so sorry.”

  She grabbed his wrist and tugged him down to her. “Sit with me.” She wiggled to make room and winced at the sudden pain in her ankle.

  “You fractured your ankle,” he said. “And that little scratch you told me about needed thirty-two stitches.”

  She shook her head. She’d heard all that already. “When do you have to leave?” she asked, needing to get the worst part of her day over with. How long did she have to enjoy the fantasy of a life with Blake in it? How long until she had to say goodbye?

  Blake lowered himself onto the edge of her bed with a frown. “What do you mean? I’m not going anywhere.” He flicked his attention to the door. “Unless you want me to.”

  She grabbed his hand and tugged him closer. “The case is over. You don’t live here.” She shot him with her best no-nonsense look. “Seems like the government would notice if it lost an agent.”

  “Right.” Blake rubbed a heavy palm against his face. “I’m the guy who always has to leave.” He peeked remorse-filled eyes at her. “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” Marissa tugged his hand away from his face. “I meant how long will you be here? You must have to get back. You have a life in Louisville.”

  The worry lines slowly faded from Blake’s brow. He searched her face with eager, curious eyes. “I’d like to have a life here.”

  Heat ran over Marissa’s face, towing a wide smile behind it. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. It’ll take some time to get the details in order,” he said sheepishly, “and I’d have to commute an hour to work, but I love Shadow Point. I’ve got roots here, friends, family...” he lifted Marissa’s hand to his lips. “Maybe even a girl.”

  “A woman,” she corrected. “Absolutely.”

  Blake leaned closer, a moan rumbling in his chest. “Please tell me you feel well enough for a kiss.”

  “I do.” Marissa’s smiling lips met his, and she found everything she’d hoped for waiting there.

  * * *

  CHRISTMAS EVE ARRIVED with a foot of snow. Her ankle had finally healed, but it would be spring before she dared climb another mountain or anything more dangerous than a flight of stairs.

  She poised her camera against one cheek and captured another image of Kara on horseback outside their parents’ home. Large picturesque flakes made a magical backdrop to the photo. The shot would make a perfect gift for Kara’s upcoming birthday.

  “Merry Christmas,” a familiar tenor called from behind her, setting her heart to sprint.

  Marissa spun in anticipation of the only thing she’d prayed for this Christmas. Her smile fell slightly before she managed to recover. “Hi, West. Mr. Garrett. Merry Christmas.” She shook Blake’s brother’s and father’s hands. “What are you doing here?”

  Marissa had nearly forgotten how similar West’s voice was to Blake’s. She’d spent plenty of time with the Garrett family after being released from the hospital, but she hadn’t seen any of them since Blake was reassigned to a new case three weeks ago.

  Their whirlwind romance had come to a screeching halt, along with Blake’s house hunt in Shadow Point and their nightly phone calls. Though, she never fell asleep without receiving at least one email or text message letting her know he loved her. The notes were nice, but she dearly missed Blake’s voice and the feel of his arms around her. So much so, that she almost understood how the other women in his past must have felt. It was harder than she’d expected to say goodbye, and she worried about him every day until she got that little note to say he was safe.

  Mr. Garrett raised a telltale gift bag meant for wine. “I brought you a little something.” He lifted a palm. “Don’t open it just yet.”

  Marissa accepted the gift with a smile. “Thank you. I’ll try to contain myself.” She laughed and hooked her arm in his. “Let’s go inside. Mom’s made enough food to feed the town.”

  West waved them on. “I’ll wait for Kara.”

  Marissa cast a curious look at West as he headed in Kara’s direction.

  Mr. Garrett patted her arm, drawing her attention back to him. “You know I took your dad shooting the other day. Beat him like a drum.”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded. “That wasn’t how I heard it.”

  “Because he lies.”

  Marissa laughed as they rounded the side of her parents’ home. A new line of cars filled the driveway. “What on earth?”

  “Looks like there was a reason for all the food,” Mr. Garrett mused.

  “I guess so.” They climbed the wide front steps to a porch lined in greenery and twinkle lights. A trio of women from her mother’s book club waited at the door with cookie trays. “Hello,” Marissa greeted them. “I didn’t know you were coming, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “We can’t stay long,” one woman said.

  The front door swung open, and her mother motioned everyone inside. “Marissa, really. Why didn’t you let them in?”

  Marissa raised her palms.

  Mr. Garrett dropped her arm and headed for the kitchen. He took her bottle of wine with him.

  “Help take coats,” her mother instructed.

  “Sure.” Marissa marveled at the house full of family and friends. Christmas music and warm apple cider wafted through the air. Every bough on the family tree hung low with white lights and handcrafted ornaments. Proof that two tragically untalented crafters had grown up there. “Why didn’t you tell me so many people were coming?”

  “Why did you think I started cooking yesterday?” She gave her daughter an encouraging smile. “You’ve been sad lately. I know you miss him. And who doesn’t like a party?”

  “I’m not sad,” Marissa said.

  She didn’t have to ask who her mother had meant by him. There was only one him who set fire to Marissa’s world. “I’m happy. I swear it. But I do miss him.”

  “I know.” Her mom took the coats from Marissa and nudged her toward the guests. “On second thought, I can do this. You watch the door and mingle.”

  Marissa opened the front door ten times in the next hour, hugging and welcoming cousins and neighbors she hadn’t seen in far too long. If she couldn’t be with Blake today, this was definitely the next best thing.

  The bell rang again, and she spun toward it with the same puff of anticipation that came with each knock. Though Blake had told her he couldn’t make it for Christmas, she couldn’t resist the hope he’d be the next person through the door.

  Cole and his mother stood outside.

  “Come in.” She kissed their cheeks and pulled them inside. “Merry Christmas.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from stealing a peek beyond them at Cole’s empty car. Unfortunately, there were no federal agents waiting to surprise her
on Christmas. A twinge of sadness tugged her heart.

  She took their coats and offered them a drink, then went to collapse on the couch.

  “Marissa?” Kara called from the porch. She knocked on the window and pressed her nose to the glass, mittens cupped around her face to peer inside.

  Marissa laughed. “What are you doing?” She headed for the door shaking her head. Kara had done the same thing all her life, mostly when she was in trouble and needed Marissa’s help to sneak past their parents. Considering Kara was now twenty-one and resided under her own roof, Marissa couldn’t imagine what Kara was up to. “Goof.” She opened the front door and stumbled back one big step.

  Blake stood at the threshold, a small blue box in his hand. “Merry Christmas.” He looked taller and broader and more handsome than she remembered. Three weeks had been far too long. His brown leather coat and jeans were speckled with melting snow, and the smile on his lips just begged for a kiss.

  Kara bobbed into view. “Should we sneak him upstairs like the other boys? For old times’ sake?”

  Blake shot Kara a look. “I’m going to need a list of those boys’ names.”

  “Me, too,” Mr. Lane called from behind Marissa.

  She twisted to find the crowded home had fallen silent. All eyes were on her and the man before her. She turned back in a flash, grabbing Blake’s hands and towing him out of the cold. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “It’s Christmas. Where else would I be?” Blake watched her silently with an expression she couldn’t name.

  Kara and West followed him inside and closed the door.

  Marissa couldn’t fight the smile on her lips. “You said you couldn’t make it home for Christmas.”

  Blake’s cheeks darkened. “I can’t. Technically. I have to be somewhere first thing in the morning.”

  “You came all the way back for one night?” Marissa blushed at the thoughts of what they could accomplish in those precious few hours, and she wished more than ever that the nosy crowd would go back to minding its own business instead of hanging on her every word. “You didn’t have to do that.” It was just too much. “You don’t need to zigzag the country to keep me happy.” She’d known exactly what she was getting into when she’d fallen in love with Federal Agent Blake Garrett.