The Spy Who Saved Christmas. Dana Marton

      “Reid and I are not like that.” For the moment, she was ignoring the kisses they’d shared. They couldn’t have meant anything to him. He was the kiss-and-leave type. Definitely. That she was still attracted to him, even knowing who and what he really was, was beyond her understanding, so she opted for denial—as far as that went.

      A dark blond eyebrow slid up Ben’s forehead. “From the way he was looking at you… Could have fooled me.” He gave a quick grin. “There’s more tension between you two than at a hostage exchange.”

      “That’s, um… We have a kind of history.”

      Ben kept grinning.

      “Which is over,” she said with all the self-confidence she could muster.

      “Whatever you say, babe.”

      And that made her laugh. She was almost six feet tall, and built like a butcher, for sure. Nobody had ever called her babe.

      Reid called her honey. She was so not going to think about that. “So you work with Reid a lot?”

      Ben went back to the map, as if he hadn’t even heard her.

      “Let me guess, if you told me anything about your job, you’d have to kill me.”

      He looked up, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “Or make you my sex slave and ravish you until you could think of nothing but my body, forgetting everything else. It’s the kind of mind control we practice.”

      And she knew she was in trouble. Because here was a really hot guy, talking dirty to her. At the very least, she should have felt a zing. But she felt nothing. She wished Reid had come back already. “On second thought, maybe you should keep your secrets.”

      Again, Ben returned to the map, muttering something under his breath that sounded like, “Damn Reid.”

      Not a second passed before he raised his head and became deathly still, the smile sliding off his face.

      Her heart rate picked up in response to the sudden tension in the air. “What is it?”

      Gun in hand, he was moving toward the window. “Turn off the light. Go back to the kids. Lock the door.”

      She didn’t ask questions, but did as she was told. She even wedged a chair under the doorknob for good measure. Then she lay down next to Zak and Nate, shielding them with her body.

      For several minutes, she could hear nothing but the babies breathing and the blood rushing loudly in her ears. Then a small pop sounded at the back door. A gunshot? Silencer? Her breath about stopped. Then she shook herself. What did she know about silencers? Only what she’d seen in movies. No need to get fanciful. Stay calm. No reason to panic. Then another pop came, and another. The floor creaked. A door was slammed open. There were people in the house.

      Definitely reason to panic. She slid off the bed. Scanned the room for a weapon. Nothing in here but the bed and the dresser. The worst she could do to anyone who entered was to engage him in a pillow fight, for heaven’s sake. But she wasn’t giving up without trying. She couldn’t let her babies down.

      One thing she knew for sure was that if the attackers came in, she was toast. She and the boys had to get out of here. She moved to the window, took care to slide it open as quietly as possible. Cold air blew in immediately. She was on her way to wrap Zak and Nate up in the blanket and get out when the door was kicked open, the chair bouncing off the opposite wall, breaking into splinters.

      Zak and Nate woke up at the same time and started crying.

      “Shut the hell up,” the man who filled the doorway barked, his face covered by a black ski mask.

      Another masked guy was right behind him.

      REID STOOD IN THE MIDDLE of Jen’s apartment, the guilt he felt over her death intensifying. She’d been his asset. He should have protected her. He tried to dig down to his customary cold logic, the one that would tell him that she’d been a member of a terrorist cell. She’d tortured and killed people alongside her boyfriend. She had put herself in the path of danger when she’d hooked up with the likes of Kenny Briggs.

      Except that when she found out she was pregnant, she’d decided to get the hell out of Dodge, putting out feelers for turning evidence in exchange for money and protection.

      She would have gotten both. She and her kid could have lived happily ever after. If Reid’s personal life hadn’t intersected with his job at that precise moment, for the first time in many, many years. And like the last time, the result was a disaster.

      This was exactly why the job always had to come first, personal life second. Or rather, with him, the job came first, second and third, and he hadn’t allowed a personal life at all. Except that now, personal matters were forcing their way into his life. He had to figure out what to do about that before anyone else died. He had to contain a looming disaster.

      And the first step toward that goal was to completely shut Lara and the babies out of his mind and focus one hundred percent on finding Jen’s CD.

      Jen’s place had been tossed before he’d gotten there. He didn’t think whoever had done this had found what they were looking for. The mess was apocalyptic, as if they’d ripped the place apart searching, then trashed it in frustration at the end.

      So where had Jen hidden the damned thing?

      He stood still, closed his eyes and in his mind ran through his whole conversation with Jen at the restaurant. Couldn’t pick out a single clue. So he ran the conversation again. This time, his subconscious got snagged on a sentence.

      “My sister knows,” Jen had said, referring to her pregnancy.

      According to her file, Jen was estranged from her family. They didn’t see eye to eye with Kenny and the values he represented. Jen had cut her family off three years ago to devote all her time and energy to Kenny and his buddies, to the cause.

      So when had she made up with her sister? Eileen was the name, he thought. He was dialing his FBI handler as he headed back to his car.