Yuletide Suspect

CHRISTMAS FRAME-UP

Nothing will stop Secret Service agent Liberty Westmark from warning her ex-fiancé that he’s wanted on a terrorism charge—not even gunmen determined to kill them both. After breaking his heart, she owes Tate Almers that...especially since only she believes his innocence. Partnering with Liberty again is the last thing Tate, a former Secret Service agent, wants for Christmas. But with a mountain of evidence against him and both the feds and a rogue cartel behind him, Tate needs Liberty beside him. They’ve become the targets of a manhunt with just one ending...and they have only each other to stay alive.

It was coming straight at them.

A truck rumbling down the road at breakneck speed.

“Run!” Tate yelled.

They took a dozen steps before gunshots exploded around them...and someone yelled, “Freeze!”

As Liberty halted, she felt Tate’s arms encircle her. She didn’t ever want to move. Not because she would be shot but because Tate’s arms were around her. Strong arms she had missed so much it made her want to cry.

“Get in the truck,” the gunman ordered. He zip-tied their wrists, so tight the strap cut off her circulation.

Kidnapped.

What was her boss going to think?

First he’d have to realize what happened to her. But then would he think she was part of this with Tate?

“What are you going to do with us?”

He tipped his head back and let out a roar of laughter. His cackle told her what she needed to know. He planned to kill them.

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for journeying with me through the craziness of Tate’s and Liberty’s lives. So often we feel like we’re not worthy, but thank God that He shows us our worth to Him with His amazing gift of grace and forgiveness—and His son.

My prayer for you is that you understand the richness of His love toward you, and open your life to see that love displayed in the many ways God blesses us.

I hope you’ll join me for future books! In the meantime, you can check out my other books at www.authorlisaphillips.com and contact me there as well. You can also write to me c/o Love Inspired Books, 24th Floor, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.

God bless you richly,

Lisa

LISA PHILLIPS is a British-born tea-drinking, guitar-playing wife and mom of two. She and her husband lead worship together at their local church. Lisa pens high-stakes stories of mayhem and disaster where you can find made-for-each-other love that always ends in a happily-ever-after. She understands that faith is a work in progress more exciting than any story she can dream up. Lisa blogs monthly at teamloveontherun.com, and you can find out more about her books at authorlisaphillips.com.

Yuletide Suspect

Lisa Phillips

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep, which was lost!”

—Luke 15:6

To all my readers.

Have a very merry and blessed Christmas season.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Arrest him. Or apologize.

Liberty Westmark gripped the steering wheel, not sure which she was going to do first. If she ever got there. She peered out the windshield, where fat flakes of snow obscured both lanes of the highway beyond her high beams.

“In six hundred yards, turn right.”

The voice of her GPS was loud and clear, but the way was not. She’d probably wind up turning into a ditch. It would serve her right to end up the sad conclusion of an obscure news article about the snowstorm of the century. Heartwarming. She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Lone Secret Service agent who left ahead of her team gets lost and freezes to death chasing a dream.”

She froze. A suspect.

Not a dream.

Where had that come from, anyway? The fact that Tate Almers had been her fiancé a year ago was absolutely not relevant anymore—unless she got the chance to apologize. Otherwise this was just work, and once she had Tate in custody she could drop him off at the nearest federal agency office and go back to her cozy DC condo and her hairless cat.

Job done.

It was a courtesy, nothing more. Tate might have done something bad—really bad—but the qualifier was what made her unable to believe it was actually his doing. A plane had gone down, and three people were missing—two White House staffers and a senator. The man she had known and worked with—okay, and loved—would never have done something like this. That history was why she’d convinced the director she should come here ahead of the rest of the team.

Liberty was going to give Tate the courtesy of explaining, and then he could tell his former Secret Service team the same thing.

The turn came up faster than she was expecting. Liberty hit the brakes and took the corner too fast. The back end of her car hit ice and fishtailed. Stupid man, living in the middle of stupid nowhere. The car kept spinning. Liberty gripped the wheel harder, like it was going to help.