Her Secret Agent Man Read Online Free Page A

thirty million dollars from him as ransom money for Carina.
    All she needed was to trade the money for her sister—and for Dutch to keep her alive that long. She’d planned to buy Dutch’s protection by bribing him with the one thing he wanted more than her head on a platter: her father’s head on a platter. But first, Dutch had to wake up so she could make the offer.
    “Can you hear me?” she asked him with desperate urgency as she pressed the cold towel to his forehead.
    Nothing.
    “Do you need a doctor?” she asked louder.
    Still no response. That guy had knocked him out cold. She pressed her palm against his forehead. No fever. She lifted his eyelids all the way to check his pupils for abnormal or uneven expansion or contraction. She tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue, a silver-touched sapphire a girl could positively lose herself in.
    If he was seriously hurt, she ought to get help. But did she dare call someone? Cause the fuss of paramedics and ambulances and risk drawing attention to herself? Her father’s henchmen would spot her in a second.
    What she ought to do was call a halt to her plans and get the heck out of here before he woke up. All her doubts and fears crowded forward. It was, without question, insane to ask protection from a man who had reason and skill enough tokill her. This scenario had disaster written all over it, and that was before he fell down at her feet. Her fight-or-flight instinct was definitely in full flight mode. Every second she lingered here put her, and by extension, Carina, in more danger. But Julia couldn’t walk out on him when he was defenseless. She’d led these guys to him, after all.
    Marshaling her scant courage, she stretched around behind him, groping for the gun she’d seen him reach for in the coatroom. Cool metal met her touch. She pulled out a blocky, heavy pistol. She’d seen plenty of handguns before—how could she not have, growing up around her father?—but she’d rarely touched one. Eduardo had always been adamant that his daughters not handle weapons of any kind. Maybe he’d known the day would come when they’d finally turn on him, and he’d known better than to allow them to learn skills they could use to take him out.
    She sat back on her heels, considering the unconscious man before her. She had to convince him to play ball with her. Convince him not to kill her or hand her over to the FBI. At least not until she’d completed her deal with her father. She must not fail. Her sister’s life depended on her pulling this off. But first she had to wake him up.
    Dutch stirred. He groaned faintly. Thank God.
    She scrambled backward, fumbling with the gun, managing to point it clumsily at him while she clambered to her feet. So much violence had swirled around her for so long it made her faintly ill to even touch a handgun. Her heart pounded, and the heavy weapon wavered in her grasp.
    She knew the exact second when Dutch regained consciousness. His blue eyes were blank and glassy one second, and the next they glittered with frightening intelligence. His piercing gaze narrowed as he took in the sight of her pointing his pistol at him. He sat up slowly.
    “Easy, there. I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured. “We have to talk, remember?”
    His voice was deep. Soothing. Tempting her to let go of her terror and trust him. But she knew better. She wasn’t some gullible, frightened animal to be lulled into his net.
    She took another step backward. “Don’t move,” she demanded sharply.
    He frowned. Focused his attention on the gun. “When I got off the ski lift and saw you, something weird happened to me. But why am I lying on the floor now?”
    “There was a guy in here when we arrived. He clocked you on the back of the head. He looked like he was only here to have a look around though.”
    He reached up and fingered the back of his head gingerly. “Probably here to plant a few bugs. Your father is always