Julie Lindsey - Federal Agent Under Fire

Marissa sank her teeth into the thick of her bottom lip and immediately released it. She was too late. Blake’s gaze slid from her mouth to her eyes. He’d noticed her tell. He knew she was nervous. She could lie all day with her tongue, but she had no control over her face. “Okay. Dinner sounds good.” As did a hot shower and fresh clothes. “Thank you.”

She followed him inside the roomy junior suite. A small sitting area with a round table, chairs, couch and television were separated from the bedroom and en suite bath by a set of French doors. Marissa dragged her gaze away from the queen-size bed with notable effort. She told herself it was the fatigue in her bones that wanted her to head that way first, not the small tug in her belly that wondered if Blake preferred to be the big spoon or the little spoon.

He edged past her with the duffel and set it on the bed. “Burgers okay?”

She nodded too quickly, a sure sign of guilt. “Yeah. Good. Thank you. I’m going to shower.” She snatched up the bag and hustled into the bathroom.

Safe behind the closed door, Marissa shed her dirty clothes and climbed into the steamy shower. Hot beads of water pounded against her tired, aching muscles, and she rubbed her eyes as the water ran over her face. The sensation did little to cleanse her mind of numerous inappropriate thoughts about Blake Garrett, the man who set her skin on fire with every smoldering look. She squeezed a dollop of shampoo onto her palm and worked her hair into a lather. Marissa was never plagued by so many inconceivable fantasies. The problem was obviously this awful day. Her emotions were too heightened to share a hotel room with that man. The excess adrenaline and fatigue were producing crazy thoughts. And why was there only one bed?

She rinsed the soap from her hair and body, clearing her skin and mind. There was no chemistry between she and Blake. She’d imagined his heated looks as a means of distraction, a psychological defense mechanism to deal with what had happened that morning. Clearly her subconscious assumed that if the hot FBI agent wanted her, then he’d protect her and she could feel safe.

She stepped onto the bath mat and wrapped a soft terry-cloth towel around her torso. Even if the looks Blake gave her were real, they didn’t mean anything other than he was in possession of a libido. It was practically what the Garretts were known for. And so what? She rubbed her arms and legs vigorously with a second towel. Blake might want her. Short-term, of course. His family was single-minded and the whole town knew it. Married to the endless pursuit of justice. Addicted to the chase. Which was likely the reason Blake hadn’t settled down. He probably wondered where the fun was in pairing up for life. Marissa expected that was where the fun really began, but what did she know?

She wound her hair into the second towel and rubbed a clear spot on the steamed-up mirror. Tears welled in her eyes at the sight of her bruised face and throat. Her heart pounded with fresh panic, as if Nash were still with her, pawing at her and looking at her and plotting to kill her if she didn’t keep fighting. She swallowed a sob and turned to sit on the floor, back pressed to the door as tears streamed over her cheeks. No, this wasn’t a day for finding love. This was a day best forgotten.

Thirty minutes later, Marissa dragged herself from the bathroom, clean and dry. Her blond hair fell in soft piles over each shoulder, fluffy from the efforts of a complimentary dryer. She hadn’t packed much makeup, but the lip gloss and mascara had helped her feel a little more human and less hideous despite the raging bruises along her jaw and throat.

Blake’s body went rigid when he saw her.

The room was empty, save for a pair of white takeout bags on the little round table near the front window.

Marissa stared, unmoving. “What’s wrong?”

Blake snapped into action, waving her closer to the table “Nothing. The final divers arrived while you were in the shower. My team went to meet them, but the sun’s setting soon and they’ve postponed until morning. My guys are filling the divers in on what to look for and anything else they need to know. West and Cole have promised to keep me updated on their end.” He settled into a red cushioned chair. “Now, we wait.”

“Will I get to talk to your team when they come back?” She shifted her weight foot to foot. “Not that I plan to badger them or get in the way. I just wonder if I’ll be exiled to the bedroom while you talk shop.”

“We won’t say anything that you can’t hear.”

Meaning they’d wait until she wasn’t around to talk about the classified details, not that they’d be open with her about everything. She mulled that over. “Okay.” She didn’t love being excluded from any information so closely affecting her, but she had to trust Blake to do his job.

“I ordered burgers, fries and malts.” His brows furrowed. “Do you eat this stuff?”

“Comfort food? Absolutely.”

He unpacked the bag and set her burger and fries in front of her.

One whiff was all her body needed to recall its desperation for sustenance. She unraveled the butcher paper and chomped into her sandwich like a ravenous animal.

Blake watched her intently. “I’m feeling less guilty for that cruller. I suppose running five miles uphill before dawn seven days a week earns you plenty of room for burgers.”

She sucked her straw flat, working a taste of chocolate malt into her mouth. “I’ve got good genes.”

“The running doesn’t hurt,” he added. “You hike, bike, swim and scuba?”

“I leaned to scuba dive in college. I did crazy things then. I even tried parasailing and rock climbing.” She chuckled. “I learned that I prefer to be on the ground.”

He pushed a fry between smiling lips. “I’ve never done any of those things, and I’ve always thought of myself as an outdoorsman. You’re raising the bar.”

“You’ll get used to it,” she teased. “Adventuring is my job.”

“Nature photography, right?”

She wiped her mouth and examined Blake’s odd expression. “You look confused.”

“I assumed you took pictures of wildflowers and butterflies.”

She rolled her eyes and went in for another bite of burger. “I get up close and personal with nature. My photos are used for education. Last summer I photographed an eagle’s nest on the summit. It was amazing.”

Blake dropped his napkin on the table. “The summit? That’s one hell of a dangerous climb.” He furrowed his brows. “You must really love what you do.”

“I do.” She smiled. Another thing they had in common. It was no secret Blake loved his job. The pride practically oozed from him when he wore that badge.

Marissa sat back in her chair, allowing her head to roll and her muscles to relax. Slowly, her eyelids drooped shut. Blake cleared his throat, and she jumped. “What happened?”

He stood over her looking inexplicably sad. “You fell asleep sitting up.”

“Oh.” She checked the corners of her mouth for drool. “Sorry. I should go to bed.” She stretched onto her feet, wincing at the pinch of tender muscles in her shoulders and neck.

Blake matched her move. “May I?” He motioned to the place where her hand rested on her bruised neck.

He waited for her to nod before stepping near.

Marissa braced herself to be touched by another towering man today. “Do they put you through medical training at the FBI?”

His warm fingers touched the tender skin of her throat and chin, tipping her head gently for a better look at the wounds. “A little. I think I got more experience growing up a Garrett.” He snorted quietly. “At least one of us boys were in constant need of a cast or stitches for about ten years. Nearly drove my poor mom to drink.”