Love with the Proper Stranger Read Online Free PDF Page A

older man or a man in poor health. We’d need to provide fictional background, complete with financial records and heavily padded bank accounts. You can bet Serena will run a credit check on anyone she’s considering targeting. We’ll need to prep the agent, set up protection and a surveillance team—”
    Miller sat forward. “I could be ready to go down to Garden Isle tomorrow.”
    Taylor stared at him, unable to hide his expression of surprise. “
You?
You’re not old enough.”
    “Husband number three was only twenty-nine years old,” Daniel pointed out mildly. “And husband six was in his mid-thirties.”
    “Both were in extremely poor health, one in a wheelchair.”
    Miller took two copies of his file from his briefcase, handed one to Blake and tossed the other onto the table in front of Steven Taylor. “Meet Jonathan Mills,” hesaid. “I’m thirty-nine years old. Recently in remission after a long struggle with Hodgkin’s disease—that’s a kind of cancer of the lymph system.”
    Taylor opened the file and quickly skimmed Miller’s investigation summary. His eyes widened. “You actually intend to
marry
this woman…?”
    “If I don’t, she won’t try to kill me.”
    “You’re going to
be
her husband,” Taylor said. “You’re actually planning to
sleep
with her…?”
    Even Daniel had a hint of curiosity in his dark brown eyes as he waited for Miller’s answer.
    Pat Blake shook his head. “Should I not be hearing this?”
    “Don’t worry, Captain, the marriage will be legal. She’ll be my wife,” Miller said. “And I’ll make a point to practice safe sex.” He smiled. “Of course, in
her
case, that means no knives in bed.” He stood up, scooping the photos and files off the table, and looked at Blake. “Am I good to go?”
    The older man nodded. “Let’s do it.”
    Daniel and Steven Taylor got to their feet, and Miller turned to leave the room.
    “One moment, if you don’t mind, John,” Blake said. He waited until the younger agents had left his office, then stood up and closed the door behind them. “You look like crap.”
    Miller knew Blake hadn’t missed the fact that his hands were shaking. “Too much coffee,” he said. “I’m fine, but thanks for your concern.”
    Blake nodded, clearly not buying it for one second. “I know we haven’t exactly been friends down through the years, John. I’ve always just figured I’ll stay out of your way, let you do what you do best, and you’llcontinue to give me the highest success record in the Bureau. But if you’ve got some kind of problem, maybe there’s something I can do to help.”
    Miller met his superior’s eyes steadily. “I just want to get to work.”
    “Do you have anyone at all you can talk to, Miller?”
    “Will that be all, sir?”
    Blake sighed. “I’m not supposed to give you a warning, but after this one’s over, I’m bringing you in for a full psychological evaluation. So go on, get out of here. And try to spend a least
some
of your time on that resort island with your eyes closed and your head on a pillow.”
    Miller
had
to protest. “Over the past eighteen months my efficiency has
increased
—”
    “Yeah, because you work twenty-two hours each day.” Blake sighed again. “Go to Georgia, John. Catch this killer. Get the job done and make the world safe again for rich, dirty old men. But be ready to be stuck under a shrink’s microscope when you get back.”
    Blake turned toward his desk, and Miller knew the conversation was over. He let himself out, aware that his pulse was racing, the sound of blood rushing through his veins roaring in his ears. Psych evaluation. Christ, he didn’t stand a chance. Somehow, over the next few weeks, he was going to have to teach himself to sleep again—or face the new nightmare of a psychological evaluation.
    God, he needed another cup of coffee.
    He was halfway down the hall that led to the lounge when he heard voices coming from one of the tiny