Agent Undercover. Lynette Eason
Swallowing hard, Dylan examined what he was feeling for the woman who had saved his nephew’s life.
The television caught his attention. The reporter was talking about Paige’s amazing rescue this morning. Captivated and horrified all at the same time, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman who stood in front of the school where it had all happened giving a detailed account of the near miss.
In his mind, he watched it all over again as Paige’s bike flashed in front of the car, her arm snaking out to grab Will and then the front headlight of the car clipping her back wheel. And down she went.
He sucked in a lungful of air.
Not knowing where the sensation came from, he couldn’t help feeling his life was getting ready to be rocked by the woman lying on the bed upstairs.
Agent Undercover
Lynette Eason
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
Dear Reader,
I do hope you had as much fun reading this story as I had creating it. It was a thrill to revisit Rose Mountain (the little North Carolina town first created in the novella Dark Obsession—February 2010). Dylan and Paige made such a great couple, I found myself cheering for them as they fell in love. And Will, ah, yes, little Will. I hope you thought he was as adorable as I did. True, he suffered a horrible trauma, but because of a whole lot of love, patience and counseling, he came through everything a fighter. I just loved that about him. A funny thing about the little boy in this story—I was writing and my nine-year-old son came in to read over my shoulder as I worked. He does that sometimes. And I said I had to change the name of the little boy in the story for various reasons. My son looked at me and said, “Use my name.” Then he gave me that dimpled grin. How could I say no? So, the little boy in the story became Will.
Paige had a lot of fear in her life. Her fear almost made her lose out on a great guy and future full of love and happiness. I hope that if you’re dealing with some kind of fear that’s keeping you from enjoying life to the fullest, you’ll give it to God and take that leap of faith that God Himself wants you to have life and have it more abundantly.
God bless!
To my sweet parents, Lewis and Lou Jean Barker,
who support me in all that I do. I love you!
The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?
—Psalms 27:1
ONE
Undercover Drug Enforcement Agent Paige Ashworth, known as Paige Worth in the little town of Rose Mountain, North Carolina, realized she had only seconds to act or the child would be dead. Shoving her right foot down on the bicycle pedal, she ignored her pounding heart and the desperate fear that said she didn’t have enough time.
The little boy stood frozen in the middle of the school’s crosswalk, eyes locked on the approaching vehicle. Time slowed until everything blurred except the child.
The crossing guard yelled something and, from the corner of her eye, Paige saw the man to her left bolt toward the terrified boy. The agonized expression on his face revealed that he knew he wouldn’t make it in time.
“Will!” The hoarse scream tore from his throat, echoing in the air.
Doing her best not to think about the danger, she pedaled furiously, weaving in and out of the few stragglers still on the sidewalk, and swept into the crosswalk. The sun beat down in her eyes as the car’s engine screamed in her ears, warning her she would lose this game of chicken.
But she had to try.
Paige could feel the heat radiating from the vehicle as she reached out to snag the boy around his waist. She knew she would be off balance and would probably hit the ground. Her only thought was to get clear of the car.
In spite of the muscles screaming in her right arm with the weight of the boy, she felt elation sweep through her.
She’d made it. Then something clipped her back wheel.
The bicycle handlebar lurched from her one-handed grasp and she lost control.
Felt herself going down.
Saw the ground coming up.
And twisted at the last minute so she was the one who crashed first, the child’s body slamming onto her.
A sharp pain lanced the back of her head and then blackness descended.
Doctor Dylan Seabrook shook with fear and adrenaline. “Will!”
He raced to his nephew and grabbed him from his prone position on top of the woman who’d just saved Will’s life. Dropping to his knees beside her, he did his best to assess the damage as quickly as possible.
She wasn’t moving, her face white like death, blond hair splayed on the ground. But he could see her breathing. With one hand, he felt for a pulse under her chin, even as his other ran over Will’s small frame checking for injuries.
He looked up at the nearest person. “Has someone called 911?”
“I did,” a voice said to his left.
One person at a time, Dylan told himself. He gave Will a more thorough check and breathed a grateful sigh that he appeared physically unhurt, but the blank stare sent fear racing through Dylan. Will hadn’t spoken in over eight weeks. Ever since his mother had died in a house fire. What would this do to him?
But he couldn’t think about that now. The woman was hurt. Again, he glanced at Will. The boy just watched him with no expression on his face. Dylan grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to him. “Sit here, buddy, all right?”
Obedience, but no other response.
Switching to doctor mode, he glanced at the second hand on his watch while he took the woman’s pulse. Steady and strong. Relief hit him.
As did the fact that she was undeniably beautiful. Beautiful and hurt.
He’d not only seen her head crack against the asphalt, he’d heard it. Just the memory of it made him sick. Why hadn’t she been wearing a helmet? With one hand, he lifted each lid, noting the startling blue of her eyes even as he professionally assessed her pupils. One big, one small. A concussion.
A siren screamed in the distance. He placed a hand under her head to feel for a bump—and felt a warm wetness.
Pulling his hand away, he wiped the blood on his