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Harlequin Intrigue November 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2

Page 21

by Carla Cassidy


  www.Harlequin.com

  Carol Ericson brings her Brothers in Arms: Fully Engaged miniseries to a gripping conclusion with a missing child and the undercover agent who never knew he had a son!

  Beau Slater once enjoyed an unforgettable night with a woman who matched him in brains, passion and black ops skills. Three years later he’s gone rogue to help the sexy Prospero agent find top secret weaponry plans—and rescue her kidnapped toddler from a vengeful arms dealer. What Beau doesn’t know is that Deb Sinclair’s son is his.

  But for this mission, the freedom-loving bachelor will lay his life on the line for a child in danger and the woman he’s never forgotten. Yet how can he trust the cunning spy who’s already deceived him?

  Waves of power and danger had emanated from him and washed over her like some seductive potion.

  Their eyes had met across the room and an electric current had zapped her down to her toes. Just like now.

  The rough pad of his thumb trailed across her cheek and over her lips, which throbbed at his touch. She dropped her lashes, avoiding the fire in his eyes, afraid of getting scorched once again.

  It didn’t work.

  His palm cradled the side of her head. His lips touched hers, and her bones melted.

  She huffed out a breath against his mouth as she hooked an arm around his neck to stay vertical.

  God help her. She’d fallen under his spell as quickly as she had in Zurich.

  But now she had responsibilities. She planted her palms against his chest, and her fingers tingled to explore the hard slabs of muscle that shifted beneath his flannel shirt.

  She pushed him away even as her lips kept contact with his.

  CATCH, RELEASE

  Carol Ericson

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Carol Ericson lives with her husband and two sons in Southern California, home of state-of-the-art cosmetic surgery, wild freeway chases, palm trees bending in the Santa Ana winds and a million amazing stories. These stories, along with hordes of virile men and feisty women, clamor for release from Carol’s head. It makes for some interesting headaches until she sets them free to fulfill their destinies and her readers’ fantasies. To find out more about Carol, her books and her strange headaches, please visit her website, www.carolericson.com, “where romance flirts with danger.”

  Books by Carol Ericson

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  1034—THE STRANGER AND I

  1079—A DOCTOR-NURSE ENCOUNTER

  1117—CIRCUMSTANTIAL MEMORIES

  1184—THE SHERIFF OF SILVERHILL

  1231—THE McCLINTOCK PROPOSAL

  1250—A SILVERHILL CHRISTMAS

  1267—NAVY SEAL SECURITY*

  1273—MOUNTAIN RANGER RECON*

  1320—TOP GUN GUARDIAN*

  1326—GREEN BERET BODYGUARD*

  1349—OBSESSION***

  1355—EYEWITNESS***

  1373—INTUITION***

  1379—DECEPTION***

  1409—RUN, HIDE**

  1415—CONCEAL, PROTECT**

  1450—TRAP, SECURE**

  1458—CATCH, RELEASE**

  *Brothers in Arms

  ***Guardians of Coral Cove

  **Brothers in Arms: Fully Engaged

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Deb Sinclair—First female Prospero agent whose son has been kidnapped by international arms dealer Nico Zendaris. Now Zendaris is calling the shots and Deb has to follow his instructions to save her son, unless she can get help from an unlikely ally—her son’s father.

  Beau Slater—A covert ops gun for hire, Beau can’t turn down a job from Prospero once he discovers the assignment is to track down rogue Prospero agent Deb Sinclair, the woman with whom he shared an unforgettable night three years ago.

  Bobby Sinclair—Deb’s kidnapped son has a serious illness, one that can be cured only by his father, the father he’s never known.

  Dr. Scott Herndon—This scientist and professor emeritus at MIT has something Deb needs to save her son, but will she be willing to kill him to get it?

  Damon—Zendaris’s henchman. He has his own plans for Deb…and they might just get her son killed.

  Jack Coburn—The head of Prospero has two problems on his hands—one of his best agents may have gone rogue and the contractor he hires to find her has his own agenda.

  Nico Zendaris—An international arms dealer who was burned by Prospero Team Three. Now he wants revenge and he’s going to use Deb and her son to get it.

  For all the strong women in my life

  who keep it all together.

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Deb’s eye twitched along with her trigger finger, but she wasn’t packing. They’d know. Somehow they knew everything, and they’d warned her if she didn’t come alone and unarmed they’d hurt Bobby.

  She believed them. Nico Zendaris had made good on every threat so far. Why would she start doubting him now?

  Her gaze darted among the faces surging around the frosty Boston street corner. Would someone give her a sign? She clutched her cell phone in the pocket of her coat. She didn’t know how they planned to contact her.

  One if by land, two if by sea? She was in the right place for signals.

  Someone bumped her and mumbled an apology. She stared at the stranger’s back, his broad shoulders encased in a puffy down jacket, as he lumbered down the sidewalk. Was that the sign?

  She took a few uncertain steps after him, but he turned a corner and disappeared. Stumbling to a stop, she bit her lip. Should she go after him?

  The message had ordered her to stand in this spot until further instructions. Was the bump an instruction? Or was the man just a clumsy pedestrian hurrying to his next appointment?

  She no longer trusted her instincts since she’d allowed them to snatch Bobby. She should’ve known. She should’ve done more.

  With a halting gait, she retraced her steps to the lamppost on the corner. If she did everything they asked of her, she’d get Bobby back. Zendaris had promised.

  She ground her teeth against the sour bile rising from her gut. She knew better than to trust that man, but what choice did she have?

  She’d have to trust him up to the moment he put a bullet in her head. Or she put one in his.

  Her cell phone chirped, and she dragged it from her pocket with a hand shaking so badly she almost dropped the phone. She studied the blank display as the phone chirped again. She’d set her phone to vibrate.

  She swiveled her head from side to side. Plenty of people with cell phones walked by, but nobody had stopped near her.

  The phone chirped again. Gasping, she plunged her hand in her other coat pocket, her fingers colliding with another phone. Not hers.

  She grabbed the cell and pulled it from her pocket. It continued its insistent trilling, so she hit the talk button.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Deb. For being a crack Prospero agent, it sure took you long enough to figure out you had a ringing phone in your pocket.”

  The smooth mocking voice stirred her blood, thick with rage. “That was one of your little minions who bumped
into me?”

  He chuckled. “Very astute of you—finally.”

  She didn’t even know if the man on the phone was Zendaris. She’d never heard his voice even though Prospero Team Three had disrupted one of his biggest arms deals four years ago.

  She growled low in her throat. “I should’ve dropped him in his tracks.”

  “Tough talk from the first and only female Prospero agent.” He clicked his tongue. “But you wouldn’t do that now, would you, Deb? Not while we have Bobby.”

  His words twisted a knife in her belly and she bit back a sob. She refused to show this scum any sign of weakness. “Let me talk to him. I’m not going to do anything more until you do. I have to know he’s okay.”

  “Deb, Deb, Deb. He’s not with me, or I’d gladly put him on the phone. Rest assured he’s safe and comfortable. We’ll give you proof of life soon enough.”

  His phrase proof of life had her sagging against the lamppost. He’d better show her proof of Bobby’s life, or she’d hand Zendaris proof of his own death.

  “When? I need something now.”

  “You have my word, Deb. That’s all I can give you at the present time—that and the phone you’re using.”

  She had an urge to toss the thing and the slick voice coming from it into oncoming traffic. But it represented her only connection to Bobby.

  She crushed it against her ear. “What’s the significance of this phone?”

  “It will be our way of communicating with you. It’s secure, untraceable, a very special phone. Carry it with you everywhere.”

  “So what is it, Zendaris? If that’s who you really are.” Despite the chill in the air, sweat dampened her hairline. She brushed a bead of it away. “What do you want me to do?”

  “You Americans, so impatient. You just keep the phone by your side, Deb, and we’ll tell you what to do next.”

  “Why the delay? Tell me what to do now so we can end this game.” Silence greeted her plea and she was almost glad of it. A whining, desperate tone had crept into her voice—a tone she didn’t want Zendaris to hear.

  She examined the phone and pushed a few buttons. There were no contacts, no phone numbers appeared and it didn’t seem as if she could make an outgoing call. What other special features did it have? A GPS tracking device? A camera? Were they watching her right now?

  Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against the cold metal of the lamppost and dropped the phone in her coat pocket. What was Zendaris after? What did he want her to do?

  She swallowed. Why was she kidding herself? He wanted the plans to the anti-drone. He’d had them first, lost them to her Prospero teammate, Cade Stark, and then the plans had been stolen from Cade.

  Neither Zendaris nor Prospero knew the location of the plans, but he must think she knew something. Or he planned to use her to get them.

  The phone rang again. That was fast. Now maybe they could get down to business.

  “What?”

  A different voice greeted her this time, rougher, gruffer. “Face east and take the first right.”

  She spun around to face the right direction. “Where the man who dropped the phone in my pocket went?”

  “Do it.”

  With the phone clamped to her ear, she strode to the next corner and turned. “What now?”

  “Walk two blocks and turn down the alley after the green awning.”

  She spied a flower shop with a green awning in front and aimed her steps toward it. The man on the other end of the line said nothing, but his heavy breathing kept her moving.

  Would they show her some sign that Bobby was okay? Maybe Bobby was down that alley. The thought quickened her steps.

  She stopped at the entrance to the alley and braced her hand against the corner of the flower shop building. Her gaze tracked along the length of the alley, stumbling over two Dumpsters but nothing else. No Bobby.

  Her shoulders slumped. “I’m in the alley.”

  “Go to the second Dumpster and take out the black bag.”

  Her stomach tightened into knots as she crept down the pavement, avoiding the patches of ice that the winter sun hadn’t melted. She didn’t want to look into that Dumpster. Didn’t want to look into any bag.

  Fear had her in its grip. Even though she hadn’t been acting like it, she was a trained Prospero agent, programmed to laugh in the face of fear.

  Without cracking a smile, she pushed up the green lid of the second Dumpster with the heel of her hand. She peered inside and eyed a black duffel bag sitting atop bags of trash and stems, leaves and broken blooms from the flower shop. She gagged at the stench of rotting organic material.

  Holding her breath, she balanced one foot on the wheel of the Dumpster and hoisted herself up. She reached into the refuse and snagged the strap of the bag and pulled. It didn’t budge.

  “I have to put the phone down.”

  The man grunted in response, and she slid the phone in her pocket. Using both hands, she propelled herself farther into the Dumpster, grabbed the bag with both hands and hauled it out.

  She dropped the heavy prize on the ground and crouched beside it. She dipped her hand in her pocket and retrieved the phone. “I have the bag. Should I open it?”

  “Yeah, whaddya think?”

  She thought if she made one wrong move they’d harm Bobby. It took her two tries to unzip the bag with her trembling hands. When the bag gaped open, she sat back on her heels, her mouth as wide as the opening of the duffel.

  “What am I supposed to do with this stuff?”

  “Rob a jewelry store.”

  The shock made her giggle and she toppled over. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re robbing a jewelry store. It’s a few blocks away.”

  “Are you crazy? This is what Zendaris wants me to do? Steal some jewels?”

  He ignored her questions and began giving her instructions for the robbery. He stopped after every instruction and asked her if she understood. She’d had him repeat the first few directions as the fog slowly cleared from her mind.

  Zendaris was serious. He wanted her to rob a store. She knew the consequences if she didn’t do it. Was this it? Was this all he’d ask of her?

  She might get killed in the attempt, and if she were arrested she would never reveal her motivation. She understood what that would mean for Bobby.

  “You got all that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t fail.”

  “I don’t plan on it.”

  She cleared out her own purse and dumped the contents into the big designer bag that was stuffed in the duffel. She pulled the blond wig over her head and clapped the huge sunglasses on her face.

  While sitting on the ground with her back against the Dumpster, Deb slipped a pair of high heels onto her feet. Zendaris had told her to dress professionally. The towering heels must’ve been an afterthought and were more suited to a hooker than the low heels she’d kicked off, but they added to her disguise.

  Peering into the mirror Zendaris had thoughtfully provided, she shoved the dark strands of her hair beneath the wig and applied red lipstick.

  She crammed the black ski mask into the purse as well, and then tucked the loaded .45 inside—not that she planned on shooting anyone unless Zendaris showed up in the jewelry store.

  She pushed to her feet and dropped the duffel bag along with her own empty purse into the Dumpster. She’d put her shoes and everything else from her purse into the designer bag. She tightened the belt of her wool coat and emerged from the alley a new woman.

  Maybe blondes did have more fun. A few men cast assessing glances her way as she wobbled down the sidewalk in her high heels.

  She passed by the jewelry store once and waited until the lone customer had le
ft. Then she approached the door and stabbed the buzzer. They must’ve liked what they saw because the door clicked and she pushed through with butterflies taking flight in her belly.

  Two clerks. Deb smiled. In her affected Southern accent, she said, “Ahm lookin’ for a diamond bracelet?”

  One of the clerks, probably a jeweler, looked up from poking at something on a glass table. The magnifying contraption he wore on his head enlarged his eye and Deb felt as if he were staring right through her disguise.

  He went back to his work, and the female clerk crossed the room to a velvet-lined case. “We have some beautiful bracelets over here.”

  “Perfect.”

  While the clerk bent over the case to unlock it, Deb stepped back and locked the door to the shop, flipping the sign to Closed. She withdrew the gun from her purse as she yanked on the cord to the blinds.

  “Excuse me?” The noises had caught the attention of the jeweler and he looked up with his hideously magnified eye.

  Before turning around, Deb pulled the ski mask over her head, blond hair and everything, and swung the gun toward him. “Ahm sorry, sir, ahm goin’ to have to ask you to move away from the counter.”

  He dropped his hand from the top of the counter and Deb aimed the gun at his head. “Please don’t.”

  The clerk stood with her mouth open, holding a tray of bracelets in front of her.

  “We’ll start with those.”

  While the jeweler kneeled in the middle of the store with his hands behind his head, Deb had the clerk scurrying around the store dumping trays of jewels into her big bag.

  Deb apologized repeatedly, but she knew these people would be traumatized. If she could make it up to them one day, she would.

  Zendaris never told her how much to steal, so with the bag bulging and half the cases empty, Deb held up her hand. “That’s enough. Both of you in the back room. Ahm not goin’ to hurt y’all.”

  She herded them into the back office, which Zendaris had known about. She’d already collected their cell phones, and now she ripped the desk phone out of the wall and smashed it.

 

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