by Seana Kelly
Connor sat in his usual spot, the last table, closest to the open door of the kitchen so he, too, could watch her and talk with her.
Kimberly waited tables four mornings a week before she drove to the university for classes. The arrangement worked out well for all involved, and it meant Jack was often in, eating breakfast with Connor so he could be served by his daughter. He said it never got old for him.
Aiden walked in and headed straight back to Connor’s table. He always knew where to find him at this hour. “Hey, Pops. How are the pancakes today?”
Connor looked up from the bundle in his lap. “Hmm? Oh, well, little Miss Helen here is especially partial to her mama’s banana mini pancakes, aren’t you, Nellie?” Connor kissed the head of his beautiful, redheaded great-grandbaby.
Aiden leaned forward and kissed his daughter, too. She was the spitting image of her mother, all curly red hair and big green eyes, but she had her daddy’s chin. No one else seemed to agree with him on that pronouncement, but he was sticking with it.
He left Nellie in the very capable hands of her great-grandfather and went in search of his wife. She was pouring batter onto the griddle while sausages and bacon sizzled to the side. Aiden grabbed a piece of bacon off the strainer, narrowly avoiding the hand smack Katie aimed at him.
“Morning, sweetheart.” He leaned in and kissed her. She smiled and went up on her toes to kiss him back.
“Good morning. Are you keeping the town safe from ruffians and ne’er-do-wells?”
He gave her a long, deep kiss. When he pulled back, he said, “Your pancakes are burning.”
She jumped, swinging back to the griddle. “Damn it! Stop distracting me. Go sit down with Connor. I’ll bring you something to eat in a minute.” She pushed him toward the doorway and out of her hair.
“Hey, Chief, leave the cook alone. We’re hungry.” General chuckling followed the shout.
Aiden flashed a devastating smile. “Sorry, folks. Pops said he wanted redheaded great-grandbabies. Plural. I was just doing my best to follow orders.”
Katie came rushing out of the kitchen to the amusement of all. She placed a plate in front of Aiden. “There. Put that in your mouth instead of talking so much.” She leaned over and kissed Nellie’s sticky cheek. “How’s my sunshine?”
“She’s bright as a new penny and sharp as a tack.” Connor handed her another pancake to smash and eventually eat. “Now, what is this talk of plural great-grandbabies?”
Katie placed a hand on her still-flat stomach. “Well, that’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you.”
* * * * *
If you enjoyed the quirky, feisty heroine in this love story by debut author Seana Kelly, you’ll also love these Harlequin Superromance books:
HER SECRET SERVICE AGENT
by Stephanie Doyle,
AIRMAN TO THE RESCUE
by Heatherly Bell,
PICKET FENCE SURPRISE
by Kris Fletcher.
All available at Harlequin.com.
Keep reading for an excerpt from HER SECRET SERVICE AGENT by Stephanie Doyle.
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Her Secret Service Agent
by Stephanie Doyle
CHAPTER ONE
Ten Years Ago
“VIV, WHERE ARE we going?”
“Just follow me,” Vivian said, taking Joe by the hand and leading him through the crowded house party a couple of blocks off the Georgetown campus. She needed privacy, something she’d thought would be easy to find at a college party. Everyone had stories about secret hookups at parties like this. The reality, however, was there were more people than space in the brownstone and the hooking-up seemed to happen openly.
Something she might have known if she actually did the college party scene more often. She didn’t usually come to these types of events. Not the most social person, she preferred spending her nights quietly with a small circle of friends. Friends she could trust.
For that matter so did Joe Hunt, who was her Secret Service point man.
Tonight had been his night off, but Vivian had convinced him to switch shifts with Cindy, who mostly handled nights and weekends. Joe had a hard time denying Vivian anything, so it wasn’t a surprise he’d agreed to the request. Now she had to work up the courage to go through with the rest of her plan.
Vivian thought that if she could have him to herself at a casual event, and they could really talk, then he might understand what she was feeling. He might also be more willing to admit what she was pretty sure he was feeling, too.
“Seriously, Viv, if this is about you thinking I’m going to let you drink, forget it. You’ve got six months to go before you’re twenty-one, and I’m not bending on a single hour. Your father would have my ass.”
Vivian didn’t bother to answer. As if drinking beer was even close to what she was getting ready to tell him. She’d been waiting for this night for weeks, and the last person she wanted to think about now was Daddy.
As president of the United States, leader of the free world, he was known to be an overbearing hard-liner. As a single father to his only daughter, he was even stricter. He would definitely not approve of what Vivian was about to do.
Despairing of finding an empty bedroom, she decided her second-best option was a room she knew would allow them privacy and had a lock on the door. She found an upstairs bathroom off the master bedroom. While there were people milling about in the bedroom, talking and drinking, the bathroom was fortunately unoccupied.
It would have to do.
She pulled Joe in behind her, shut the door and locked it for good measure. Phase One was complete.
Then she turned to face him, and all the words got stuck in her throat. He was dressed casually, albeit professionally, to help blend in at the event. As point man, his job was to stay with her at all times while Carl Mather, his backup, secured the entrance and exit points and patrolled the perimeter of the house.
With his hair, slightly longer than standard for a federal agent, and his slacks and button-down, along with a blazer she knew covered his shoulder holster, he might have passed for college age. A preppy Georgetown law school student, perhaps.
It was a point of contention for him because she knew his buddies in the service called him Baby Face Hunt. Any time someone said it to him he scowled, which usually made her smile. She took enough grief from him on a daily basis tha
t she loved it when he got a taste of payback.
“And now we’re in the bathroom. Why?” he said as if still trying to understand why she had led him here.
“I wanted to talk. In private.”
“So talk.”
Vivian nodded. This was it. Phase Two. She wanted to tell him how much he’d meant to her these past two years. She wanted to tell him how desperately alone she’d been before he came along. Having lost her mother at twelve had been hard, as it would be for any girl that age. But going through that while her remaining single parent was running for the most visible office in the world hadn’t been a cakewalk.
Then Joe came into her life to take over her protection going into college and everything changed. Realistically, she understood she was just an assignment to him. His job. But she also knew when she talked, he listened. And he talked to her, too. They ate most of their meals together, knew about each other’s day. Each other’s lives and families. Each other’s goals and dreams.
In the two years they had been together, somehow he’d become her best friend. The person she most wanted to be with in the world.
The man she...loved.
Except saying all that was apparently not going to happen. She wanted to share everything with him, but now that the moment was here, she could barely breathe.
Shit! It was happening again. She couldn’t take enough air into her lungs, and then she started to pant.
“Viv,” Joe said, moving in and holding on to her shoulders. Forcing her to meet his gaze. “Look at me. Look at me. Easy now. Deep breath. In. Out. Again. In. Out.”
After a few moments she was breathing normally. Joe always had that effect on her minor panic attacks. Like he could will them away.
Only now his expression got harder, darker. “Okay, for real. Talk to me. What’s got you upset? Did someone say something to you? Do something?”
Vivian shook her head. This was supposed to be a fun night. A casual party. They were supposed to be talking about their relationship, only now she could see she was worrying him.
“No, nothing like that. It’s just...we’ve known each other for two years...and I...thought...that... Oh, forget Phase Two.”
That was when she did it. It was actually pretty easy. Joe still had his hands on her shoulders. All she had to do was press her body against his. She found his mouth with hers and then wrapped her arms around his waist as if she could hold on for dear life.
This was Phase Three. Everything depended on Phase Three.
She could feel his surprise, feel his hands tighten on her shoulders. She broke away from the kiss and he opened his mouth to say something, but it was too late. She was kissing him again, and this time her tongue was in his mouth and she was tasting him.
Vivian Abigail Eleanor Bennett was kissing Joe Hunt, and it was heaven.
Then her back was pressed hard against the locked door of the bathroom and she felt his tongue thrusting against hers. She thought she might have whimpered. Suddenly he was gone and she was empty.
“What the effing hell was that?” he shouted at her.
Still reeling from desire and excitement, it took her a second to process his words. All she could think about was how her mouth felt. It was the only thing on her body she could feel. Hot, swollen, wet.
He tasted...amazing, and all she knew was that she wanted more. Except he was yelling at her.
Wait. Why was he yelling?
“What are you thinking? I’m seven years older than you and a freaking federal agent!”
“But...”
“But nothing!”
Vaguely, Vivian wondered if the people out in the bedroom could hear them. Mortification started to descend on her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She knew how he felt about her. She’d just confirmed it with that kiss.
“You idiot! Is this why you brought me here? To make some half-assed, immature pass? What? Did Daddy’s little princess think she was entitled to some screwing? I’m not your damn slave, Viv. You’re my freaking work assignment.”
“I didn’t... I mean... I love you.”
He slammed his hand hard against the door next to her ear, and she jumped. In the two years they had been together she’d never seen him like this. Joe was her rock, her stability. Joe was the person who made the fear dissipate. Joe took panic attacks away and made her feel like she could do anything she set her mind to.
He’d been annoyed with her at times, sure, but he never got angry. Never like this.
“You’re nothing but a stupid kid. What the hell do you know about love?” he asked softly.
She heard each word. Deep, as if they had penetrated her skin instead of her ears. Somehow her world had just exploded in front of her, and everything she knew to be real was fake.
She turned, fumbled with the lock and ran out of the bathroom.
“Vivian!”
She heard him shout her name, but she didn’t stop. She ran down the steps, pushing everyone out of her way, oblivious to the stares and whispers that followed her. They were always there, like a soundtrack to her life.
What was the matter with the president’s daughter?
Did someone upset the princess?
Then she was out on the sidewalk. Her breaths were shallow and she couldn’t get control over them. She needed to calm down. To focus. But the one person who could help her do that was the last person she wanted to see.
Then she heard someone coming up behind her, felt a hand reach around and put something over her mouth. She tried to pull away when it all went dark.
* * *
JOE WAS GOING to kill her.
Hopefully, right after he saved her life.
It was the one thought that kept surfacing once Vivian had regained consciousness in the freezing-cold cabin, blindfolded, naked and tied to a chair.
No, it would be okay. Joe would come for her. Yes, he was angry with her. Yes, she knew this was her fault for running away from him, but it wouldn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him until he found her.
She tried to bring his face into focus through the fear. Except the only face she saw was the angry version of him. The one who called her a child and an idiot.
She needed the other Joe. The one who made her less afraid. She’d suffer anything to have him here right now, kneeling in front of her and telling her to count her breaths.
Breathe. Just breathe.
That was what she’d been doing, Vivian remembered now. She ran away from Joe, something she would no doubt receive a severe lecture about. She was never supposed to leave his line of sight at an unsecured event. His definition of a party.
Only she had to get away from him. She remembered getting to the sidewalk, struggling for some air and then...
The hand. A hand coming around her face, pressing against her mouth and nose. She hoped she hadn’t simply fainted with fear. That her kidnapper had used some kind of drug. Otherwise, that would result in yet another lecture from Joe.
He’d been diligent about teaching her self-defense, an hour almost every day. He would be disheartened to know she hadn’t even attempted to fight off her attacker. Hadn’t even reached for her panic button.
Nothing.
Yes, The Hand had to have been holding something. Or maybe he knocked her out with a blunt blow to the head. Vivian tried to concentrate on whether she hurt anywhere, but the truth was she couldn’t feel a thing.
Except the cold and the brush of the ropes across her shins, stomach and breasts, irritating her bare skin.
She didn’t think she’d been raped while she was unconscious. She was a virgin, so she had to believe if The Hand had raped her, she would be sore between her legs. She wasn’t. However, as it had gotten colder, numbness took over and she couldn’t be certain of anything.
At least he hadn’t touched her that way since she woke up. How long had it been?
At least one day. Despite the blindfold, she could tell there was a subtle change in the light in the room. There had to be windows here, letting in the sun. How long she’d been unconscious before that, she had no idea.
Vivian didn’t know what was worse—when she was alone like she was now, or when he came to her. Shouting passages from the Bible. Calling her wicked names. Beating her, then crying that he was sorry as he told her how much he loved her.
At least during those moments she was focused. The pain helped to keep the numbness at bay. She also listened for clues in his words, his manner of speech, hoping he might reveal his identity or where he was hiding her.
She’d seen movies like this. Eventually, he was going to have to call her father. She knew Daddy and the Secret Service would be waiting to take the call. When that happened, her father would demand to speak to her to prove she was still alive. She wanted to be able to give him and Joe, who she was sure would be right next to her father, an indication of where she was.
So far she’d only been able to determine they were someplace drafty with no central heat. Her kidnapper had a Southern accent and he knew his Bible really well. The Hand had given nothing else away.
“Vivian! Oh, Vivian! Where are you, slut?”
Her body shuddered at the sound of his voice. He was back. Somewhere in the house. The panic returned, and she forced herself to take full breaths.
She could hear the creak of the door opening. Felt that she was no longer alone in the room.
“There you are. Right where I left you. That’s a good girl. A very good girl.”
Her heart started beating against her rib cage like it was trying to get out of her body. Although she found herself almost grateful for the adrenaline rush that warmed her a little.
She attempted again to talk to him. To reason with him.
“My father,” she said through chattering teeth, “will pay you whatever you ask.”
