by Mary Alford
“How are you?” he asked, because he’d been so worried about her.
She pulled away so that she could look into his eyes. He saw all the love she felt for him shining in hers. “I’m going to be just fine.”
Someone knocked on the door and Jase stepped inside and came over to the bed.
“Glad to see you upright, my friend,” he said, and Aaron laughed then winced at the pain.
“Me too.” Aaron managed.
“The state troopers are here. Ryan is going to transport you to the hospital in Anchorage just to be safe, but I wanted to tell you there’s been a new development with Kalel,” Jase told them.
He had Aaron’s full attention. “What happened?” It couldn’t be bad because Jase was smiling.
“Kalel’s talking. It will take a while to get the whole story out of him, but apparently before he and his brother came to America, his family was killed in an attack on a village in Afghanistan. The attack was led by some of the original Scorpions.”
“You’re kidding,” Aaron said in amazement.
Jase shook his head. “Nope. His uncle was a well-known terrorist responsible for several attacks on our team. Turns out the uncle escaped the village before our men arrived. Kalel and his brother were teenagers when they moved to Alaska to live with some distant relatives.”
Aaron shook his head.
“That’s when the brothers and Sam met,” Jase said. “He introduced them to Michael. Through the years they kept in touch. Sam started his business as a cover to smuggle the weapons, only he got reckless. Kalel told him to find out where the Scorpions were headquartered and get rid of any evidence connecting Sam and the brothers to Michael. By that point, Kalel had decided Michael had to die. Of course, Sam failed miserably and ended up being captured.”
Aaron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He must have realized at some point we would dig deep enough to find his and Alhasan’s connection to Sam and Michael.”
Jase nodded. “That’d be my guess.” He glanced at Liz. “Either way, this is over. You’re cleared, Liz. Not that any of us believed you were guilty.” He headed for the door then turned back to them. “You both need to get some rest on the way to Anchorage. We’ll need both of you operating at full capacity to unravel the rest of Kalel’s crimes.”
Liz waited until they were alone again. “I still can’t believe Michael would betray us like that. I wish he’d come to me and told me what was happening to him. I could have helped him.”
Aaron drew her into the shelter of his arms. “He tried to redeem himself. Michael made sure that everyone knew you had nothing to do with his crimes and in the end he tried to right the wrongs he’d done.”
“Do you think Kalel killed Sam too?” Liz asked, still trying to fit the pieces together.
“Probably. We know he killed Michael. I’m guessing he had Michael take your passkey, but I’m sure your partner never imagined that would lead to his own death. That Kalel would take your backup weapon to kill Michael and then frame you for the crime.”
As hard as it was to believe, the team could finally close the book on Sam’s dreadful story of terror once and for all.
Aaron just wished he could erase the moments of doubt he’d had about Liz. He should have trusted her completely.
“It’s okay,” she said softly and he looked into her eyes and shook his head.
“I doubted you. I can’t believe I doubted your innocence for a second. You would never have done that to me. I’m not sure I can forgive myself,” he muttered.
She clasped his chin and forced him to look at her. “No...you’re wrong. If the tables were turned, I would have had doubts. We’re only human, Aaron.”
She smiled into his eyes. “None of that matters anymore. I love you, Aaron. After I lost Eric, I never thought I’d feel this way again. And if we hadn’t gone through what we did, who knows, I might still be holding onto my grief. So, you see, everything worked out according to God’s plan. I love you, Aaron,” she said and he believed she meant it.
Tears stung his eyes and he gathered her closer and kissed her with all the love in his heart. “I love you too. And I promise I’m going to do whatever it takes never to doubt you again.”
She touched her finger to his lips and shook her head. Then she kissed him and held him tight. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all of this, it’s that life is fragile. A precious gift from God and we’re here for just a moment. I don’t want to waste another minute of the time we have left on regrets. I want you. I want to spend the rest of our lives together and live each moment of that time to its fullest.”
And so did Aaron. They’d been given a second chance at love. There had been a few bumpy patches leading to this moment, and many doubts, but they finally had a chance to explore the future together without anything hanging over their heads and he was so ready to take that chance with her.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this book, don’t miss these other exciting stories from Mary Alford:
FORGOTTEN PAST
ROCKY MOUNTAIN PURSUIT
DEADLY MEMORIES
Available now from Love Inspired Suspense!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from OFF THE GRID CHRISTMAS by Mary Ellen Porter.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003
Dear Reader,
Where do you turn when your back is against the wall? When life is going our way, it’s an easy question to answer. But what if you were being blamed for something you didn’t do? In times of crisis, that’s when our faith is tested.
This is the story behind my latest Love Inspired Suspense. For Agent Liz Ramirez, her faith in God has always proved unshakable, even after the death of her husband. Yet her faith in man is challenged when Liz is blamed for her partner’s death. Facing prison time, she turns to the one person who has never once let her down. Agent Aaron Foster.
Liz is forced to go against the principles she’s believed in since joining the Scorpions to find the evidence her deceased partner left behind in a remote cabin in Alaska. Evidence that will hopefully clear her name.
When everything points to Liz’s guilt, Aaron willingly lays his life on the line to save hers.
And when everything is going against us, like it was for Liz, it would be so easy to give up. But it is in our darkest moments that God’s light shines the brightest. And if we let Him, He’ll be there beside us, no matter what. Just like Aaron was for Liz.
All the best...
Mary Alford
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.
You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.
Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Join Harlequin My Rewards & Instantly earn a FREE ebook of your choice.
Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever & whenever you shop.
Turn your points into FREE BOOKS.
Don’t miss out. Reward the book lover in you!
Register Today & Earn a FREE BOOK*
*New members who join before December 31st, 2017 will receive 2000 points redeemable for eligible titles.
Click here to register
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010001
Off the Grid Christmas
by Mary Ellen Porter
ONE
The Christmas tree had been Arden DeMarco’s undoing.
Or, to be more accurate, the decorations on it had.
Not that accuracy mattered. What mattered was that she had to leave. Quickly.
She shoved her sweatshirt into her backpack, the scent of Tide detergent and lavender fabric softener reminding her of her childhood home. She’d hoped to be there for Christmas, reveling in the beautiful predictability of Christmas Eve service, ham dinner, new pajamas worn on Christmas morning.
She was twenty-five years old and she still loved those things.
Unfortunately, in this instance her nostalgia had been her downfall.
She sighed.
What was done was done. For twelve days she’d been safe in this secluded cottage just outside of Lubec, Maine. Now she wasn’t.
She hadn’t planned to leave, but staying was no longer an option. She’d have to find another place to go to ground. With a quick look around the room, Arden was satisfied she was leaving nothing important behind. No clues as to what she’d been working on, where she planned to go or what her next step would be.
Zipping her pack, she gave the surveillance monitors one more glance.
All clear.
For now. But the odds weren’t in her favor.
Grabbing the wearable pet carrier from the hook behind the door that separated the kitchen from the cozy living room, she fastened it around her chest.
“Sebastian? Time to go,” she called.
As was Sebastian’s way, he didn’t answer.
She crossed the room to check his favorite spot, knelt down and peered under the sparsely decorated Christmas tree. Sure enough, he was there, batting at a red bulb.
“Did you learn nothing from the tinsel incident?” she muttered.
He looked at her, blinking large blue eyes and meowing as she scooped him up and placed him in the carrier. Where most cats would have yowled and struggled, he settled in without a fuss, the tips of his dark brown ears barely visible as she pulled the drawstring on the carrier to secure him inside. Like Arden, he was quirky. It was one of the reasons she’d adopted him.
He purred happily against her chest. Poor guy had no idea that he’d brought danger down on their heads.
She’d been so careful when she’d dropped off the grid. Covered all the bases: cash transactions only, no contact with family, prepaid cell phone for emergencies only. There’d been no way anyone could trace her movements.
Or so she’d thought.
Unfortunately, in her panic, she’d forgotten about Sebastian’s microchip. Truth be told, if Sebastian hadn’t eaten his body weight in tinsel, she’d still be none the wiser. Okay. It hadn’t been that much tinsel. After administering an ultrasound, the vet had assured Arden that the cat would be just fine. She’d been happy and relieved until the vet had called an hour ago to check on Sebastian and used Arden’s real name.
A name Arden hadn’t used in almost two weeks. They’d obviously scanned Sebastian for a microchip and now her assumed alias and the cottage address were linked to Arden’s true identity, through the PetID database.
The jig was up. She needed to leave. If she managed to escape with her life, she’d never ever hang tinsel again.
A powerful gust of wind whipped in from the ocean, drawing her attention to the window. The sun had set an hour ago, and the full moon should have been rising above the ocean. Clouds covered it, light gray against the dark horizon. Below, the beach lay empty. No lights or bonfires. No people with flashlights digging for clams. This wasn’t the time of year for vacationers. That had played to Arden’s advantage. Now she felt vulnerable.
She tried to tell herself it was good that she was leaving, but she’d wanted to stay. A quiet cottage far away from anyone who knew her had been the perfect place to hide.
The wind buffeted the cottage’s shake siding and howled beneath the eaves, the eerie sound spurring her to hurry. She pulled on her coat, partially zipping it up over Sebastian. He purred even more loudly.
Happy cat.
Unhappy human companion.
Arden shoved gloves into her pockets and yanked a knit cap over her ears. This was it. Time to go. She grabbed her pack, flipped off the lights and dropped the house keys on the desk next to a note about the security system she’d regrettably be leaving behind. State-of-the-art. Expensive. She’d probably need it again before this was over, but it was too heavy and cumbersome for someone who needed to move quickly.
The perimeter alarm chirped, the warning sending her pulse racing. She turned back to the monitors. Three were clear. The fourth showed a lone figure making his way slowly up the steep snow-covered path on foot. She smiled at that. She’d chosen this location well—even a Jeep couldn’t navigate the narrow, rock-covered road.
One guy she could handle.
She had the advantage. She knew he was coming.
The cottage was in a large clearing, no place to conceal movement—perfect for seeing what was coming; not so great for a covert escape.
She’d wait until he was on the front walkway, then sneak out the back.
She shrugged the pack onto her shoulders, her attention on the monitor as the man strode up the walkway.
Keeping an eye on the monitor, she crossed the well-worn wood floor to the back door. Heart pounding, hand on the doorknob, she waited for him to reach the front steps. A cold breeze swept in under the door and she shivered. The 1930s cottage, mostly used as a summer rental, was not well insulated. Though it was comfortable enough with both wood-burning stoves fired up, she had extinguished the fires thirty minutes ago in preparation for her departure. Now, with the embers quickly cooling, the cold Maine chill was settling over the house.
The man reached the front steps, eyed the footprints she’d left in the snow when she’d returned from the vet. The image on the monitor wasn’t clear enough to see his face, but she didn’t plan to stick around long enough to get a better look.
“Get ready for a bumpy ride, Sebastian,” Arden muttered, quietly opening the back door. The new storm door stuck, the old frame a poor fit. She should have removed it when she’d first noticed the problem, but she hadn’t thought she’d be found. Assumptions could get a person killed. Her oldest brother and decorated FBI agent, Grayson, was always saying that. Hopefully, she wasn’t going to prove him right.
She walked outside, letting the door rest against the jamb. No time to wrestle it tightly into place. The yard was a slick sheet of icy snow, but she rushed toward the back corner of the property as quickly as she could. She had to reach the shed, and the motorcycle, if she had any hope of escape. She had minutes. Maybe less.
Bang!
The sound sent adrenaline coursing through her blood.
She glanced back, saw the storm door lifted by the wind.
Bang!
The door slammed again, and a dark figure appeared around the corner of the house. Tall. Obviously masculine. Coming toward her with quick, decisive steps.
She sprinted to the shed.
“Arden DeMarco!” the man yelled, his voice carrying over the sound of the crashing surf and wind.
She reached for the shed door with shaking hands, yanked it open just as he grabbed her shoulder.
Arden was ready for him.
The youngest of five children, and the only girl, she’d learned to hold her own early on—her brothers had made sure of that. And what they hadn’t taught her, ten years of mixed martial arts training had. Without hesitation, she pivoted, grabbing his hand and twisting it at an unnatural angle.
He r
eleased his hold, giving her just enough space to throw a punch. He dodged at the last minute, her knuckles just brushing his jaw. She pulled back, aiming for his throat this time. She’d practiced this move dozens of times. She knew it cold, but Sebastian hindered her movement and the man was quicker than she expected, grabbing her wrist and yanking her arm down before she could land the blow.
“Enough!” he growled. “I’m just here to—”
She threw a left hook. Her fist connected.
She knew what he was there for. Or she could guess. He was too well trained to be anything but a government operative or a hired assassin.
If he felt the blow at all, he didn’t let on. Instead, he raised his arm to block her next punch.
“I said, enough,” he muttered, his foot sweeping out, catching her ankle as she dodged. She stumbled backward, managed to somehow regain her balance. He reached for her again, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket and pulling her toward him.
* * *
Arden was small, agile and packed a surprising punch for her size. But Kane Walker had spent more than ten years in the Special Forces as part of the army’s elite Night Stalkers airborne brigade, and she was no match for him.
Not that he planned to keep fighting her.
He’d come to bring her home.
She was going. Whether she liked it or not.
“Arden, your—” he began, but she was obviously in no mood to listen.
She yanked away, took a stance he’d seen dozens of times when he’d sparred with her brother Jace. She attacked with Jace’s signature move. It was almost indefensible.
Almost.
He took a calculated step forward, got his knee behind her leg and swept her toward the ground. If she’d been an enemy, he would have added a punch to the chest or nose to speed her descent; instead, he grabbed her arm as she flew backward, slowing her fall. She hit the ground with a thud anyway.
“How about we call a truce?” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Jace didn’t have me track you down so we could spar.”