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Under The Agent's Protection
Jennifer D. Bokal
In tracking a killer… will he choose duty—or desire? Everly Baker knows her brother’s death was no accident, and its connection to another more sinister case makes it impossible for FBI Agent Wyatt Thornton to turn down—and so does his desire to protect the woman he’s grown to love…
“You’re wrong, Everly. You can’t trust me.”
But will he choose duty—or desire?
After leaving the FBI, the last thing Wyatt Thornton wants is to get involved in a murder investigation. Yet Everly Baker is desperate for his help in solving her brother’s mysterious death. The connections between cases tantalize Wyatt, as does the victim’s sister. And when a criminal puts Everly in his crosshairs, Wyatt must trust his crime-solving instincts to protect her—and catch a killer!
JENNIFER D. BOKAL is the author of the bestselling ancient-world historical romance The Gladiator’s Mistress and the second book in the Champions of Rome series, The Gladiator’s Temptation. Happily married to her own alpha male for twenty years, she enjoys writing stories that explore the wonders of love in many genres. Jen and her husband live in upstate New York with their three beautiful daughters, two aloof cats and two very spoiled dogs.
Also By Jennifer D. Bokal (#u1a1c30fa-d106-5a39-91c5-0226220446aa)
Wyoming Nights
Under the Agent’s Protection
Rocky Mountain Justice
Her Rocky Mountain Hero
Her Rocky Mountain Defender
Rocky Mountain Valor
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Under the Agent’s Protection
Jennifer D. Bokal
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09445-0
UNDER THE AGENT’S PROTECTION
© 2019 Jennifer D. Bokal
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Note to Readers (#u1a1c30fa-d106-5a39-91c5-0226220446aa)
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Everly stood in the middle of the living room.
The unmistakable glint of a metal blade was at her neck. The perpetrator was hidden behind her, face obscured. Wyatt’s heart beat in triple time. His palms grew damp and a bead of sweat trickled down his back.
He inhaled and exhaled, slowing his racing heart. There were only two things Wyatt needed to do: save Everly’s life and catch the serial killer. Good thing he’d brought a gun to a knife fight.
“Drop that blade or I’ll shoot,” he said, remaining hidden in the shadows.
The knife flashed, gouging Everly’s skin. Like a seam had opened, a bead of red blood gathered on her cheek. She shrieked. A shadow took form and rushed from the room. The back door shut with a crack.
Wyatt sprinted through the living room and pushed against the door. It didn’t budge. He fumbled with the doorknob and leaned his shoulder into the door, knowing it was a smart move on the intruder’s part. Barricade the door. Wyatt was trapped—a prisoner in his own home.
Dear Reader (#u1a1c30fa-d106-5a39-91c5-0226220446aa),
I am beyond thrilled to continue the Rocky Mountain Justice series. Yet, there is one person who I need to thank above all others—and that is you, Dear Reader! As excited as I am that I get to continue to write the RMJ series, the exhilaration pales in comparison to the fact that the previous books were enjoyed by readers everywhere. I’m sure you’ve heard before that writing is a solitary endeavor. While that is somewhat true, authors don’t publish books to stay hidden. In fact, we write because we are driven to share our stories.
Thank you, Dear Reader, for giving all of the Rocky Mountain Justice books a place in the world.
Under the Agent’s Protection, along with the subsequent four books in the miniseries, began with an editor’s single suggestion: You know what we’d love to see? A serial killer.
That seed took root in my imagination. It was watered with a good bit of research and interviews about the formation of serial killers and what drives those who study and pursue them. In writing this book, I was forced to ask a very personal question: What frightens me the most? Rocky Mountain Justice expanded from Colorado and took up residence in the small town of Pleasant Pines, Wyoming. To all of that I added four separate love stories, and this newest miniseries flourished! As always, it is my honor to create smart and sexy books for you, Dear Reader. I hope you enjoy reading Under the Agent’s Protection as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Regards,
Jennifer D. Bokal
To John. You are always the one.
Contents
Cover (#u0b12130a-6104-519f-b7e3-1b7c8acbedee)
Back Cover Text (#ue010a9fc-f00e-5bd0-86d6-36b3b8296a6b)
About the Author (#ue7dc4df0-cc88-5c26-874f-b39af48e171a)
Booklist (#uf24d5b1a-763d-590e-b7f9-173d3f8d79ef)
Title Page (#ub67877e6-2f02-5547-8e75-0e428c4f2be7)
Copyright (#u5040ae1b-8169-5f1c-b8c1-cf11314213b7)
Note to Readers
Introduction (#uc3b39b1b-d18f-543a-b00a-e64b8cc58961)
Dear Reader (#ue786446b-cfc9-530f-a5cf-f24929d29321)
Dedication (#uce0f76ed-d82b-5755-b687-87b9043db33e)
Prologue (#u3906540c-f02c-587e-85d4-dfbf4c9feeea)
Chapter 1 (#u4fa96a87-535f-47fa-9aa1-de91205ce75b)
Chapter 2 (#u0aedf933-9072-5950-8d7e-78c5cf9d6ff0)
Chapter 3 (#u62c37794-9247-5b42-b5b2-478a4d8d3f4a)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#u1a1c30fa-d106-5a39-91c5-0226220446aa)
Wyatt Thornton cocked back his arm as far as he could, then released his grip. The stick somersaulted through the air. Kicking up the remnants of last winter’s snow, his dog, Gus, barked happily and gave chase. The land, these miles of foothills in the Rocky Mountains, belonged to Wyatt. It was more than a home, it was a refuge—his place of escape, where the world hardly knew he existed.
A place he could truly be alone.
Gus returned and dropped the slobbery branch at Wyatt’s feet. After ruffling the Lab’s ears, Wyatt once again picked up the stick. This time, he threw it harder, sending it sailing through the clear blue sky. With another excited bark, Gus raced after it, disappearing into the woods.
Turning his face to the sun, Wyatt closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He’d never gotten used to the sweet, fresh Wyoming air—not when compared to the miasma of exhaust fumes, cigarettes and sunscreen he had lived with for more than a decade in Las Vegas. The scents of the Strip, everyone used to joke. After exhaling fully, Wyatt again inhaled. A primal wail shot through the silent morning and his breath caught in his chest.
“Gus?”
Heart pounding and legs pumping, Wyatt rushed between the shadows cast by the towering trees.
“Gus,” he called. “Where are you, boy?”
He heard a yelp in the distance and his chest contracted. All the dangers that might have befallen his faithful companion came to him in one horrifying rush. A newly awake and hungry bear. An unseen ditch and the dog’s broken paw. Poor footing on a slope that ended with Gus maimed at the bottom of a ravine.
He stopped and listened. The silence was total, not even interrupted by the whisper of a breeze.
“Gus? Where are you?”
His call was answered with a bark. The noise ricocheted off the hills, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Wyatt stopped and focused.
The first bark was followed by another, this one louder and definitely from his right. Wyatt’s pulse spiked, and he followed the sound up a hill. The soft ground crumbled underfoot, and he scrambled on hands and knees to the top of the rise. One hundred yards in the distance stood the old schoolhouse, the farthest point on his land.
Made up of a single room, the century-old stone foundation was still intact. There was a hole in the ceiling where part of the roof had collapsed in the corner. Gus stood on the threshold, whole and healthy. He barked, and his tail was a wagging blur.
Wyatt wiped his hands on the seat of his pants, while his racing heartbeat slowed. “There you are,” he said between breaths as he half jogged to the schoolhouse. “Come here.”
Gus barked again. With a whine, the dog looked over his shoulder.
“What is it, boy?” Wyatt asked.
Gus darted into the dilapidated building. Wyatt approached and stopped short, recognizing the smell of decay. It was like the rot of a slaughterhouse, but stronger.
Swallowing down his deepest sense of revulsion, he stepped slowly into the structure.
Gus stood near a far corner and pawed at the floor. Behind the dog was the unmistakable form of a corpse.
“Easy, boy,” Wyatt said to his dog. With a slap to his thigh, he added, “Come here.”
With one last look at the lump on the floor, Gus moved to his master’s side.
