SWAT Secret Admirer
A predator is no match for her protector…It's been ten years since the attack that drove Maggie Delacorte to become an FBI SWAT agent. She's an elite fighter now – and when the Fishhook Rapist sends her a letter saying he's coming back for her, she knows she has to find him first. Her teammate Grant Larkin is assigned to the case, and he's determined to protect Maggie, even if it damages the connection that's been growing between them. Even if her attacker has decided that the way to get to Maggie is by targeting the people she cares about. Her feelings for Grant could get him killed, but she needs him – and his love – to make it through the worst danger yet…
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âGrant, I owe youââ
âNothing.â He cut her off, actually sounding as though he meant it. âYou owe me nothing.â
She snorted. âI owe you a lot more than just an apology. I wish I could go back to the day Clive asked me if I wanted to take time off from SWAT andââ
âStop it,â Grant said, and it wasnât his words but the fact that he put his finger over her lips that silenced her.
The touch sent a tingling feeling over her face, and he must have seen something in her eyes, because his expression changed, too. The serious veneer was gone, replaced by a mixture of emotions she couldnât begin to unravel. But worry and desire were definitely part of the mix.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and instead of moving his finger, he traced it slowly over her mouth.
Her entire body suddenly seemed to come alive as the tingling swept outward, down to her toes. She stepped back fast. âWhat are you doing? I got you shot today! â
Thank you, as always, to my friends and family for your support. A special thanks to Chris Heiter, Robbie Terman, Ann Forsaith, Nora Smith, Charles Shipps and Sasha Orr, for your feedback, and Mark Nalbach, for keeping my website going.
Thank you to my agent, Kevan Lyon, and my editor, Paula Eykelhof, for always pushing me, and to Denise Zaza and everyone on the Intrigue team, for all your help behind the scenes. A big thank-you as well to the Intrigue authors, for the friendly welcomeâI love being in your company.
ELIZABETH HEITER likes her suspense to feature strong heroines, chilling villains, psychological twists and a little romance. Her research has taken her into the minds of serial killers, through murder investigations and onto the FBI Academyâs shooting range. Elizabeth graduated from the University of Michigan with a degree in English literature. Sheâs a member of International Thriller Writers and Romance Writers of America. Visit Elizabeth at www.elizabethheiter.com.
For my critique partner, Robbie Terman.
Thank you for convincing me that I could write romantic suspense, and lending your expertise.
Contents
âInvisibility in three...two...one...now!â
The words echoed in Maggie Delacorteâs earbud as her SWAT teammate stepped back from the neat hole heâd cut in the window. Behind her, everything was quiet in the predawn darkness. But that wouldnât last for long.
The FBI had gotten the word that a wanted fugitive was hiding out in this gang-infested part of DC, armed with an AK-47 and surrounded by a pack of die-hard supporters. Maggie and her teammates were here to make sure his time on the run was finished.
She moved quickly forward, tossing a flash-bang grenade through the window. The world in front of her exploded in white light, a massive boom echoing as the flash bang landed. Smoke billowed, providing cover.
âGo, go, go!â Grant Larkin yelled in that deep voice that always sent goose bumps running up her arms, as he used a ram and his massive upper-body strength to break down the door.
Maggie raced around the corner to follow, just as the door flew open into the one-story hideout. Grant went in first, moving right as planned, then the two teammates behind him dodged the splintered door and went left.
Her MP-5 raised and ready, Maggie barely felt the weight of the extra fifty pounds of gear she carried as she darted through the door, clearing it fast the way sheâd been trained.
A bullet whizzed by her ear, coming from her left, but she didnât turn her head. That was in a teammateâs sector. Heâd handle the threat. Maggieâs sector was straight ahead, and she stayed focused as she forged through the swirling gray smoke.
Reports came in over her radio as she entered the hallway to the bedrooms. The fugitiveâs allies were dwindling fast, either from bullets, or because they threw their hands up and their weapons down at the sight of the six FBI SWAT agents converging on them. But there were at least two left, including the fugitive himself, a three-time offender, who was surely looking at a life sentence this time around.
A gangbanger popped out of a doorway ahead of her, his modified AK-47 coming up fast, and Maggie moved her weapon right, firing at center mass.
The threat down, she kept going until she was beside Grant. He outweighed her by a solid eighty pounds and in the narrow hallway, with all their gear, they barely fit side by side.
He nodded his head to acknowledge her presence, glancing briefly her way. She registered it through her peripheral vision, but kept her focus where it needed to be: on the rooms to the right side. One more for her to clear, one for Grant.
