by Debra
Though he gave the appearance of being happy to see her, his hand on her wrist was tight. She wouldn’t get away easily or without raising a ruckus. He smiled at her and, through his teeth, he demanded, “Who the hell are you?”
She smiled back at him, cupped his face with her other hand and patted his cheek, not so gently. “I’m your contact, so play nice and pretend you’re happy to see me.”
For a brief moment he frowned.
She laughed out loud. “If that’s happy, you’re a terrible actor. Make like we’re a couple.”
“Since I didn’t get the memo, I’m a little slow on the uptake. Let me set the stage.” Getting past the shock of his contact’s gender, Rip had to admit she was a lot prettier than any cowboy he might have expected. He wrapped his arm around her waist, then slid his hand up into her dark brown hair and pressed the back of her neck, angling her face toward his.
“What are you doing?” she said, her eyes widening.
“I would think it was obvious. I’m showing you how happy I am to see you.” Then he captured her mouth in a deep, lip-crushing kiss.
Apparently she was so shocked that her mouth opened. Rip slid his tongue in and caressed the length of hers.
At first her hands, trapped between them, pressed against his chest. But after a moment or two, her fingers curled into his shirt and she kissed him back.
When he finally came up for air, it took him a second or two to come back to his senses and remember where he was, yet again.
He stood so quickly, he had to steady her on her feet before he let go of her. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What about your winnings?” she said.
He scooped up enough tokens for two full cups, carried them over to a gray-haired senior citizen and dumped them into her slot machine tray. “Congratulations, you’re a winner.” He kissed the woman’s cheek, grabbed his contact’s hand and headed for the door.
The woman whose hand he held hurried to keep up with him in her bright red cowboy boots. “You were playing the dollar slots.”
“So?” he countered.
“That was probably a couple hundred dollars.”
“Then that woman will go home happy.”
He tipped his baseball cap lower over his forehead, slid his arm around her waist and smiled down at her as he stepped out into the sauna-like Mississippi late afternoon sunshine. “Where’s your car?”
“This way.” She guided him to the parking lot and stopped beside a large black 4x4 truck with twenty-inch rims and tinted windows.
“Seriously?” Rip shook his head. “This is yours?”
“One of the perks of working for Hank Derringer. That and an arsenal of every weapon you could possibly need.” When she hit the key fob, the engine started and the doors unlocked. She opened the driver’s side door and nodded to the passenger seat. “Hop in.”
“How do I know you really work for Hank?”
“You don’t. But has anyone else shown up and told you he’s your contact?”
“No.”
“You have that.” She raised her eyebrows, the saucy expression doing funny things to his insides. “So, do you trust me, or not?”
His lips curled upward on the ends. “I’ll go with not.”
“Oh, come on, sweetheart.” She batted her pretty green eyes and gave him a sexy smile. “What’s not to trust?”
His gaze scraped over her form. “I expected a cowboy, not a...”
“Cowgirl?” Her smile sank and she slipped into the driver’s seat. “I grew up on a ranch, I’ve worked with cattle and horses and I know the value of a hard day’s work. I spent eight years with the FBI. I also know right from wrong and tend to be loyal to a fault, until the person or organization I believe in breaks my trust.” Her lips firmed into a straight line. “Are you coming or not? If you’re dead set on a cowboy, I’ll contact Hank and tell him to send a male replacement. But then he’d have to come up with another plan.”
Rip considered her words and then acknowledged he didn’t have a lot of choices with only a couple of week’s reprieve before he had to turn up alive or be buried by the government. He rounded the front of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. “I’ll go along for the ride and maybe you can convince me you’re up for the challenge.”
“Please. I don’t normally have to justify my existence to the people I work with. I’m a trained operative. I don’t need this assignment. However, from what Hank told me, you need all the help you can get.”
“I’m interested in how you and Hank plan to provide that help. Frankly, I’d rather my SEAL team had my six.”
“Yeah, but you’re deceased. Using your SEAL team would only alert your assassin that you aren’t as dead as the Navy claims you are. How long do you think you’ll last once that bit of news leaks out?”
His lips pressed together. “I’d survive.”
“By going undercover? Then you still won’t have the backing of your team, and we’re back to the original plan.” She grinned. “Me.”
Rip sighed. “Fine. I want to head back to Honduras and trace the weapons back to where they’re coming from. What’s Hank’s plan?”
“For me to work with you.” She pulled a large envelope from between her seat and the console and handed it across to him. “Everything we need is in that packet. Passports, cash, credit cards and new identities. We also have at our disposal Hank’s jet, a Citation X, capable of cruising at Mach 0.9, almost the speed of sound. Say the word and we can be in the sky within twenty minutes. It’s waiting at the airport.”
Monahan had only good things to say about Hank and all he could do for the operation, otherwise Rip would have been more hesitant getting the billionaire involved. With a DEA agent and one of his SEAL teammates dead, and himself almost killed, he was determined to find the one responsible. But after losing one of his SEAL brothers, he was hesitant about getting anyone else caught in the crosshairs. “Hank sure pulled all of this together fast.”
The woman’s lips tilted up briefly as she drove out onto the street. “Hank has resources most people don’t. Not even the government.”
Rip riffled through the contents of the packet, glancing at a passport with his picture on it as well as a name he’d never seen. “Chuck Gideon?”
“Better get used to it.”
“Speaking of names...we’ve already kissed and you haven’t told me who you are.” Rip glanced her way briefly.
Her eyes narrowed and her lips firmed. “No, I haven’t.”
“Is it a secret? Do you have a shady past or are you related to someone important.”
“For this mission, I’m related to someone important.” She twisted her lips and sent a crooked grin his way. “You. For the purpose of this operation, you can call me Phyllis. Phyllis Gideon. I’ll be your wife.”
Copyright © 2015 by Mary Jernigan
ISBN-13: 9781460382998
To Honor and To Protect
Copyright © 2015 by Debra Webb
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It was an assignment he was more than prepared for—until an innocent beauty got caught in the cross fire
Undercover agent Cameron Roth’s hot on the trail of a drug-running crime cartel. The last thing he needs is to involve an innocent woman in the cross fire. But when he leaps into Julia White’s home for safety, she becomes part of the tangled web Cam’s trying so deseparately to unravel. Smooth, solid Cam’s the consummate professional. But gorgeous, feisty Julia transforms the high-stakes assignment into something far more than business as usual. Now that the villains have her in their sights, Cam’s got to not only solve the case—but also protect the only woman who’s ever found the way into his heart.
“I don’t want you to go.”
The pleas tugged at him, made him think about doing stupid things that didn’t fit with his life or the need to keep her protected. “You’ll be safe with him.”
Her other hand went to his lap. Smoothed up and down his thigh. “You make me feel safe.”
The touching, the sound of her voice, the pleading in those big eyes. He was ten seconds from breaking. “Don’t do this.”
She nuzzled her mouth against his neck. Blew a warm breath over his skin. He fought it until he couldn’t, then he turned his head and kissed her. Right there in another man’s house, in a place with security but no connection to Cam.
It took every ounce of his strength and self-control to pull back. When that didn’t give him enough space, he stood up. Paced around and thought about airplanes. Anything to take his mind off her face and the touch of those lips.
“Then I’m going with you.”
CORNERED
By HelenKay Dimon
HelenKay Dimon, an award-winning author, spent twelve years in the most unromantic career ever—divorce lawyer. After dedicating all that effort to helping people terminate relationships, she is thrilled to deal in happy endings and write romance novels for a living. Now her days are filled with gardening, writing, reading and spending time with her family in and around San Diego. Stop by her website, helenkaydimon.com, and say hello.
Books by HelenKay Dimon
Harlequin INTRIGUE
Corcoran Team: Bulletproof Bachelors series
Cornered
Corcoran Team series
Fearless
Ruthless
Relentless
Lawless
Traceless
Mystery Men series
Under the Gun
Guns and the Girl Next Door
Gunning for Trouble
Locked and Loaded
The Big Guns
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Cameron Roth—Former Navy pilot turned Corcoran Team member. He’s a confirmed bachelor looking to stay focused on work and rescuing. When a simple assignment turns upside down, he drags a woman along on his mission. He thinks she’s an innocent bystander, but when it becomes clear she’s intimately tied to the secrets unfolding around him, he ends up protecting her…and more.
Julia White—Julia didn’t so much leave Calapan Island as she escaped it. She is ready to leave her past behind and makes one last trip to her old hometown to tie up loose ends. She’s in the wrong place at the wrong time when Cam crashes into her life—literally—and lands in danger.
Ray Miner—He is the mysterious man with an agenda and a lot of muscle on his side. He’s used fake identities, ordered an attack on Julia and tried to kill Cam. There’s no question he’s on Calapan to cause trouble.
Bud Kreider—The police chief on Calapan. He possesses a good-old-boy vibe and doesn’t want the Corcoran Team on his turf. He also seems to be one step behind and confused about what’s happening on the island.
Sandy Bartlet—An old friend of Julia’s father. He’s a mainstay on Calapan. He’s lived there and made his fortune. Now he’s retired and trying to give back to his community. When Julia and Cam need help, Sandy is the man they run to.
Holt Kingston—The leader of the Corcoran’s traveling team. He trusts his men and comes to Calapan to support Cam. He’s not a guy who trusts easily and he can’t find anyone on Calapan worth trusting.
For all the readers who asked for more Corcoran Team books—thank you! I love these guys, too.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Excerpt
Chapter One
A crack of gunfire echoed through the towering trees. That sort of thing would have sent Julia White scrambling for her cell phone and dialing for the police back in her normal life. But not on Calapan Island, the tiny strip of land miles from Seattle and accessible only by ferry. Here people fired weapons for sport, as a warning or just because it was Tuesday.
She didn’t know the reason this time and didn’t much care. Rather than flinch or worry, she stayed kneeling in the dirt, weeding the overgrown rectangle of roots and vines that had once been a garden alive with color.
The summer sun warmed her bare arms as the breeze lifted her hair off her shoulders and kept it dancing in front of her eyes. Needing a drink of water and a barrette, she stabbed the end of the sharp shovel into the ground and stood. A break sounded good after an hour of getting nowhere on the massive yard-work project.
She made it two steps before shots rang out again, this time multiple and in bursts. At the sound of the rapid rat-a-tat-tat, she spun around, trying to judge the distance between her and the bullets. Her gaze zipped from one end of the open yard to the other. A thunder of noise she couldn’t identify filled her ears and grew closer as she scanned the part of the two acres she could see without moving away from the protective shield of the house.
A tangle of trees blocked her view to what lay beyond her father’s falling-down property, but she didn’t hesitate. Living in Seattle for the past two years had taught her one thing: don’t invite danger. That meant moving. Smart women knew when to run.
She took off for the back porch as she tapped the pockets of her cargo shorts in search of her phone. Empty. Maybe that was for the best, since what passed for police on the island didn’t exactly fill her with a sense of security. More like dread.
Her foot hit the bottom step right as the hair on the back of her neck stirred. That only made her jog faster. Anxiety rocketed through her as she reached for the door. Just as she tugged she heard it—heavy breathing, and not hers. She whipped her head around in time to see someone barreling toward her. Broad shoulders and big. Male and fast.
Her hand slipped on the knob, but she turned it. She managed to open the door an inch before a man’s hand slammed against the frame by her head. The heat from his body radiated against her back as panic swamped her. She opened her mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over her face, blocking the sound.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” The harsh whisper brushed across her ear.
Yeah, no way was she believing that.
She kicked out and shoved. Flailed and tried to run again, this time for the tree line. She would not go out like this. She’d always joked that if she stayed on Calapan she’d die. She refused to let that prediction come true.
She elbowed him in the stomach and heard him swear in response. Another shot or two like that and she might be able to put some distance between them and g
et inside. Gathering all her strength, she drew her arm forward again and pushed back. She hit nothing but air.
One minute she stood locked in an epic battle on the porch. The next, her attacker reached around her and got the door open. He propelled her forward, slamming the door behind them and locking them both inside.
He held up his hands as he stared at her with big blue eyes. “Please listen to me.”
He could beg all he wanted. The dimple, those shoulders, the objective cuteness...she wasn’t buying any of it. She’d never been charmed by a handsome face before and wasn’t starting now.
If he wanted a fight, fine. She’d give him one. Without thinking or analyzing, almost on autopilot, she ran for the small family room on the far side of the kitchen. Guns didn’t scare her, because they were a way of life on Calapan. Growing up here, she’d learned how to shoot. Cans, mostly, but she didn’t plan on telling her attacker about that limitation.
Footsteps beat in time with hers. She ran. He stalked. He kept talking—something about needing her help—but she blocked it all out, her only thought being to find that rifle. There was a Glock around here, too.
“Ma’am, slow down for a second.”
Not likely. She put a couch between them as she tried to remember where she had left the guns after she moved them around this morning. Her mind flipped to the fireplace, and a quick glance revealed one leaning against the mantel. The same fireplace mantel next to the attacker and not her.
Her mind raced with directions. Draw him out. Let him talk. She skipped all of it. “Get out.”
“I will not hurt you.” He hadn’t lowered his hands.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t. Her gaze dipped to the gun strapped to his hip and the trickle of blood running down from the edge of the sleeve of his navy T-shirt. “Then leave.”
“My name is Cameron Roth.”
As if she cared. “Fine. Leave, Cameron.”