Page 114 of Shadow Undercover

Joy flooded him even as his body relaxed, the worry and fear that she’d reject him gone. “I love you, too, Bridget. More than I ever thought possible in the short time we’ve known each other. I’m not going to rush you. I want to build a solid foundation that will last for a lifetime. To do that, I plan to get to know as much as I can about you and take the time to give you the romance you deserve.”

Bridget laughed. “What a coincidence. I’d planned to romance you and convince you that you couldn’t live without me.”

“You don’t have to convince me. I already know that to be the truth.”

Someone cleared his throat from the doorway.

Trace and Bridget glanced at the newcomer. Trace grinned. “Hi, Doc.”

“Hate to break up this tender moment, but I need to look at your shoulder.”

“No problem.” He looked at the love of his life. “We have the rest of our lives for more moments like this one.”

Sorenson turned to Bridget. “How are you?”

“Better than Trace.”

“She took a hard hit from a linebacker-size thug. You need to check her when you finish torturing me.”

Sorenson snorted. “Careful, Trace, or I’ll recommend that Maddox assign Mr. Brickman as your physical therapist.”

Trace winced. “Low blow, Doc.” All the operatives swore Brickman was kin to Attila the Hun.

The doctor turned to Bridget. “Get some coffee or tea while I check Trace’s shoulder. Send Sam or Jake in here.”

She bent down and kissed Trace, her caress brief. “I won’t be far.” Bridget left the examination room. Sam entered a moment later.

Sorenson stepped toward Trace. “Let’s see what kind of damage you’ve done this time.”

One surgery and several hours later, Trace woke in a dimly-lit recovery room with Brent Maddox sitting in a chair at his bedside. A glance at the other side of his bed revealed Bridget with her hand wrapped around his and her head pillowed on the mattress.

“About time you woke up,” Brent said, voice soft. He poured water into a glass, dropped a straw into the liquid, and put the straw to Trace’s lips.

After several painful swallows, Trace gave his boss a nod of thanks. “How bad?”

“You needed some muscle and tendon repair, but Sorenson says you were lucky. A millimeter or two either way and the damage would have ended your fieldwork.”

“Recovery time?”

“At least eight to twelve weeks. Depends on how fast you progress.”

“Did he check Bridget?”

A nod. “Another cracked rib and new bruises.” He smiled. “My new researcher is worth her weight in gold. She took down two of Hugo’s men by herself.”

Yeah, he’d meant to ask her about the second take down. “I know about the stun gun Veronica gave her. Did she use that weapon on both men?”

“Nope. She knocked the second man out with a pressure syringe.”

“Hugo?”

“Safely in fed hands. He’s singing like a bird in an effort to reduce his sentence. You should know he vows vengeance on you and Bridget when he gets out.”

“If he gets out, Hugo will be an old man.” The federal authorities didn’t take terrorism lightly. Still, he’d keep an eye on the crime boss’s status as a guest of the government. Trace had a few favors he could call in so he’d be notified if Hugo managed to escape or was released from prison. “He knew Bridget’s identity?”

Another nod. “He had confiscated Ruth’s purse and seen the pictures of Bridget. When he met Bree, he thought she looked familiar, and checked the pictures again. According to him, he wouldn’t have thought to compare the photos to the security camera pictures of her if Bridget hadn’t disappeared from Freeport. Since she was persistent enough to go to Chile, he thought it was worth checking. Once the photos were side-by-side, he recognized the similarities. Hugo said the disguise almost fooled him.”

“Ruth?”

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