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Harlequin Intrigue November 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2
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Harlequin Intrigue November 2013 – Bundle 2 of 2
Would-Be Christmas Wedding
Catch, Release
Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon
Debra Webb
Carol Ericson
Carla Cassidy
Harlequin Intrigue brings you three new edge-of-your-seat romances for one great price, available now for a limited time only from November 1 to November 30! This Harlequin Intrigue bundle includes Would-Be Christmas Wedding by USA TODAY bestselling author Debra Webb, Catch, Release by Carol Ericson and Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon by Carla Cassidy.
Catch a thrill with 6 new edge-of-your-seat romances every month from Harlequin Intrigue!
Table of Contents
Would-Be Christmas Wedding
By Debra Webb
Catch, Release
By Carol Ericson
Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon
By Carla Cassidy
USA TODAY bestselling author Debra Webb brings The Specialists, her riveting new Colby Agency miniseries, to a breathtaking climax.
Emmett Holt was laying everything on the line. The deputy director of Mission Recovery had gone way undercover to bring down a criminal mastermind. It had to appear, even to his own people, that he was involved in a plot to kidnap his boss’s sister. But Cecelia Manning wasn’t what he’d expected.
Emotional entanglements made him vulnerable in his line of work. So Emmett made his heart as cold as a Christmas blizzard. But as Cecelia collaborated in his risky ploy, his admiration for her was surpassed only by his raging desire. He’d known from the start he could lose his career, but never imagined he could gain a wife.
“You’re so damned beautiful.”
Holt drew back a step. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“I disagree,” Cecelia insisted.
Of course she would. But it was a mistake, more on her part than his.
“I don’t want to be gentle with you.” He wanted to scare her, wanted to back her off. But it wasn’t fear he saw in her eyes, it was…anticipation.
“So don’t be gentle.” She tugged at his tie and slid it out of his collar.
“Cecelia.” It was the only coherent word he could get past his lips.
“I’m right here.”
Her fingernails scraped lightly across his chest.
“I’m not that white knight you’re looking for,” he said with an ache that almost undid him.
“I don’t care.”
WOULD-BE
CHRISTMAS
WEDDING
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Debra Webb
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Debra Webb wrote her first story at age nine and her first romance at thirteen. It wasn’t until she spent three years working for the military behind the Iron Curtain and within the confining political walls of Berlin, Germany, that she realized her true calling. A five-year stint with NASA on the space-shuttle program reinforced her love of the endless possibilities within her grasp as a storyteller. A collision course between suspense and romance was set. Debra has been writing romance, suspense and action-packed romance thrillers since. Visit her at www.debrawebb.com or write to her at P.O. Box 4889, Huntsville, AL 35815.
Books by Debra Webb
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
934—THE HIDDEN HEIR*
951—A COLBY CHRISTMAS*
983—A SOLDIER’S OATH^
989—HOSTAGE SITUATION^
995—COLBY VS. COLBY^
1023—COLBY REBUILT*
1042—GUARDIAN ANGEL*
1071—IDENTITY UNKNOWN*
1092—MOTIVE: SECRET BABY
1108—SECRETS IN FOUR CORNERS
1145—SMALL-TOWN SECRETS‡‡
1151—THE BRIDE’S SECRETS‡‡
1157—HIS SECRET LIFE‡‡
1173—FIRST NIGHT*
1188—COLBY LOCKDOWN**
1194—COLBY JUSTICE**
1216—COLBY CONTROL†
1222—COLBY VELOCITY†
1241—COLBY BRASS††
1247—COLBY CORE††
1270—MISSING+
1277—DAMAGED+
1283—BROKEN+
1307—CLASSIFIED†††
1313—DECODED†††
1347—COLBY LAW^^
1354—HIGH NOON^^
1359—COLBY ROUNDUP^^
1443—BRIDAL ARMOR***
1449—READY, AIM…I DO!***
1456—WOULD-BE CHRISTMAS WEDDING***
*Colby Agency
^The Equalizers
‡‡Colby Agency: Elite Reconnaissance Division
**Colby Agency: Under Siege
†Colby Agency: Merger
††Colby Agency: Christmas Miracles
+Colby Agency: The New Equalizers
†††Colby Agency: Secrets
^^Colby, TX
***Colby Agency: The Specialists
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Emmett Holt—Deputy director of Mission Recovery. Holt took Lucas Camp’s place when the older man retired. Some believe Emmett will do anything to move to the top, but will he stoop to using Director Casey’s sister?
Cecelia Manning—Thomas Casey’s sister, widowed over a year ago. Before making the career move from CIA administration to operations, she’s planned to throw a charity gala in memory of her husband—but a new love interest might interrupt her plans.
Thomas Casey—Director of Mission Recovery. Thomas is the consummate specialist. But someone is determined to take him down and expose Mission Recovery.
Casey Manning—CIA agent, Cecelia’s daughter and Thomas Casey’s niece. She’s newly married to Colby investigator Levi Stark, and visiting Alexandria to support her mother’s charity gala.
Bernard Isely—An international criminal who will stop at nothing to have his revenge on Thomas Casey and Mission Recovery.
Lucas Camp—Thomas’s closest friend and Casey’s godfather. He will do whatever necessary to protect his friend and Mission Recovery’s secrets.
Victoria Colby-Camp—The semiretired head of the Colby Agency. She and Lucas can’t seem to stay out of the business of investigations.
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
Excerpt
Chapter One
The National Mall, Washington, D.C.
Thursday, December 18, 11:45 a.m.
So this is how it feels to be a traitor.
Emmett Holt exited the metro at the Mall. Of all his less-than-admirable traits and accomplishments, this one had brought him to an all-new low.
There was no going back fr
om this, no explanation or excuse he could offer for the damaging evidence he was about to hand over. While it was only a flash drive, it felt like a fifty-pound weight-lifting plate from the gym. He knew Director Thomas Casey had someone tailing him and he knew better than to waste time trying to make that identification.
If this sting backfired, if either Thomas Casey or his nemesis, Bernard Isely, got impatient, Holt—standing between them—would get cut down in the crossfire. Not exactly the way he’d seen himself going out of this business, much less this world.
Handing over the reports from the Germany mission when Casey had killed Isely’s father was a stop-gap measure. Isely wanted both the intel on the old mission and the vial of the deadly virus Mission Recovery had seized two months ago.
It didn’t take a genius to know Isely wanted a whole hell of a lot more than that. The man had one goal: to exact revenge and destroy Director Casey.
Holt was running out of excuses to keep both men at bay. And timing was everything.
He walked with purpose toward the National Air and Space Museum gift shop, just another man picking up another gift amid the throng of tourists. The weather was clear and the wind cold, but winter hadn’t turned truly bitter yet and people were still wishing for an idyllic white Christmas.
Holt could only wish he would still be alive come Christmas.
He stopped where the text message had told him to stop, feeling like a damned puppet on a string. Even knowing at the beginning that it would come down to this didn’t make it easier to stomach the reality of doing so. He was used to giving orders, not taking them.
Handing over this tiny piece of technology and the huge intelligence it stored marked the beginning of the end.
It might have been a few years since his last field op, but the skills didn’t go away. They were far too deeply engrained. He checked his phone, made the drop and didn’t die or get arrested as he walked back to the metro station.
“Did my warning help?”
Holt didn’t miss a step as Isely joined him on the escalator. “Sure.”
After receiving a picture of Director Casey’s sister, Cecelia Manning, and the single warning of “Beware,” Holt had dug into the woman’s recent history to see what threat or purpose she might pose for Isely. Or for him.
He’d learned all kinds of details he didn’t want to know, from her favorite perfume to her tight circle of wealthy friends who toddled about doing charitable works.
Then he’d found the big splashy occasion he knew Isely had been looking for: the charity gala the widow had organized to benefit cancer research in memory of her late husband. The event offered the perfect opportunity.
“And?” Isely prompted.
Holt wasn’t inclined to answer truthfully. He’d exhausted himself planting bugs in the woman’s house, a GPS tracker on her car, opening a profile that matched hers on an online dating site and monitoring her general safety while maintaining his own responsibilities at Mission Recovery.
“And her family will join her at tomorrow’s event,” Holt replied, giving the man what he wanted.
“You will take the appropriate action?”
Holt nodded, letting his hand shake just a touch. He didn’t want to oversell it, but a traitor would have reservations and a few jangling nerves at this point. He had a wild hope that a specialist would come charging in—now—before this got messy.
“I will send the address when it is time.”
Holt nodded again as the train came into the station.
“Don’t worry, my friend.” Isely’s hand landed heavy on Holt’s shoulder. “You have a new team now. You are not alone.”
Friend?
Isely couldn’t know it, but that was Holt’s worst fear.
Chapter Two
Alexandria, Virginia, 2:15 p.m.
“I know you’re disappointed, Mom.”
Cecelia Manning filled two mugs of coffee and handed one to her daughter, Casey. She watched Casey add a scant teaspoon of sugar and a hefty dollop of milk.
When the risk of milk ending up on her counter was minimized, she said, “My application was accepted.”
“What?” Casey’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am completely serious,” Cecelia replied. She decided hiding the pain her daughter’s reaction had caused was best for now. Neither her daughter nor her brother approved of her desire to go into fieldwork for the CIA, but Cecelia had had more than she could take of the boredom and routine of pushing paper around the agency office.
Her husband had worked in the CIA for the entirety of their married life, until he’d passed away just over a year ago.
Her brother was the director of an elite team of covert agents known only as “Specialists.” Her daughter had gone into CIA fieldwork, as well. Yet they all expected her to...what? Continue in her predictable, safe role, making Sunday dinners and birthday cakes and learning to knit while she waited for Casey and her new husband, Levi, to provide the grandchildren she wanted to spoil.
She sipped her coffee and saved the scream of frustration for when she was alone again.
“Mom, you can’t.”
“Can’t?”
Casey’s eyes flared as she obviously caught the warning Cecelia had packed into that one word.
“I didn’t mean can’t like that.”
Cecelia sipped her coffee, waiting. More than a little curious how her daughter intended to wrench her foot out of her mouth.
“It’s just...” She shrugged. “You’re my mom.”
Cecelia traced the handle of her bright stoneware cup.
“Fieldwork is crazy,” she added.
Holding her daughter’s gaze, she waited for an intelligent argument to arise. Not that she’d let anything deter her from her plans. Since her husband’s passing, she’d merely gone through the motions of day-to-day life and now she was ready for something new. She needed something new... Like a life where she felt needed and...wanted.
She’d survived the shock and grief of losing the man she’d loved and expected to grow old with. She’d learned to cope with a quiet house and the sympathetic looks of her friends and neighbors.
Her work had been an anchor, steadying her as she moved from one stage to the next. Now it felt like a stone dragging her to the bottom of the Potomac when she thought of sitting behind a desk for the rest of her working days.
With William buried and their daughter a happy newlywed, Cecelia’s life, unexpectedly, was her own, and she was determined to see just what she could do with it.
“Mom? You’re not even listening.”
“No,” Cecelia admitted. “I’m not. Whether you approve or not, I’m making this move.”
“Mom.”
“Casey.” She mimicked her daughter’s exasperated tone. “I appreciate your concern, but I didn’t leap into this blindly. This decision isn’t a whim or even a midlife crisis.” She saw Casey blush and knew her daughter had indeed suggested those unflattering theories. She and her uncle, Cecelia’s brother, had discussed this move at length. “The agency wouldn’t have accepted my request if I didn’t have the physical or mental fortitude to succeed.”
She held up a finger. “If you dare mention the Equal Opportunity Act, I’ll throttle you. Don’t think I haven’t learned a thing or two about minimizing risk already. I am not as naive or helpless as you seem to think.”
Casey held up her hands in surrender. “You’re a self-defense ninja.”
“Don’t you forget it, either.” Cecelia smiled. “I know enough about the process to know my two closest relatives did not recommend
me.”
“That’s not true.”
Cecelia let the fib go unchallenged. Her family wanted the best for her, but they just had a different idea of what that looked like. “And don’t worry. You’ve been through the training yourself. It’s not like they’re dumping me out on the street first thing Monday morning.”
Casey sighed. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to take some vacation and travel? Field operations isn’t a game, Mom.”
Her daughter’s complete lack of confidence cut deep, but she supposed it was to be expected. When you walked one path for the duration of a relationship, changing directions was bound to stir things up.
Maybe there had been enough talk of change for the moment. “How is Levi?”
“He’s fine. His plane gets in around eight.”
“And being married is wonderful?”
“Yeah,” Casey admitted with a secret little smile. One Cecelia remembered wearing long ago when she was that age. “You’re sure you’re okay with us spending Christmas with Levi’s mom in Florida?”
“Of course. You’re now part of his family, too. Don’t worry about me. I have plans of my own.”
“You do?”
“Sure. I bought a ticket for—”
The doorbell rang and Casey shot her a curious look. Cecelia only smiled as she set her coffee aside. “I have friends. We even do stuff,” she added with a wink. “It’s probably about tomorrow night.”
Before she reached the front door, it opened and her brother, Thomas Casey, walked inside. The tension was a palpable force rolling off him and bouncing around the narrow foyer.
Worst-case scenarios bounded through her head before she regained control. She’d learned early in her role as a wife and mother that a cool head was the best asset she could bring to any situation.
“What is it?” She said a quick prayer that it wasn’t his new wife, but her mind absolutely blanked when he laid his hands gently on her shoulders.
The doctor who’d explained William’s terminal diagnosis had done that, wearing a similar grim expression and looking at her with an emotion caught somewhere between sympathy and pity.