“So you never mix business with pleasure?”
He brushed her hand off his shoulder. “I don’t mix pleasure and you.”
He really was cute when he was annoyed. No wonder she’d gotten such a kick out of pestering him as a kid. She placed her hand on his bare knee, enjoyed the feel of his muscles tensing.
Jack swore. “Haven’t you ever heard that no means no?”
Piper laughed. “No only means no when the woman says it.”
“That’s sexist,” he complained. “I care about you, Pest. We grew up together.”
So this was his excuse? He still thought she was a kid? She let her voice go husky. “I’m all grown up now.” She shimmied just a little in her seat. “Or haven’t you noticed?”
Dear Reader,
Saving the Girl Next Door is the third book in my HEROES INC. miniseries. After stranding my characters in Daddy to the Rescue (HI #705, 4/03) in the mountains, and writing a book in the heart of New York City in Defending the Heiress (HI #709, 5/03), I was ready to move south to the sultry tropical heat of Florida.
When I started writing about Piper Payne and Jack Donovan, I knew this would be a special book. The characters wouldn’t stop talking to me. Piper and Jack took on a life of their own. The story is hot and sassy and the suspense cutting edge. But best of all, the story is fun.
Harlequin is so pleased with the HEROES INC. miniseries that more of these books will be coming your way next year. I hope you enjoy my efforts, and I always love hearing from readers, so please feel free to stop by my Web site and visit at www.SusanKearney.com.
SAVING THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
SUSAN KEARNEY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Kearney used to set herself on fire four times a day. Now she does something really hot—she writes romantic suspense. While she no longer performs her signature fire dive (she’s taken up figure skating), she never runs out of ideas for characters and plots. A business graduate from the University of Michigan, Susan is working on her next novel and writes full-time. She resides in a small town outside Tampa, Florida, with her husband and children and a spoiled Boston terrier. Visit her at http://www.SusanKearney.com.
Books by Susan Kearney
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
340—TARA’S CHILD
378—A BABY TO LOVE
410—LULLABY DECEPTION
428—SWEET DECEPTION
456—DECEIVING DADDY
478—PRIORITY MALE
552—A NIGHT WITHOUT END
586—CRADLE WILL ROCK*
590—LITTLE BOYS BLUE*
594—LULLABY AND GOODNIGHT*
636—THE HIDDEN YEARS†
640—HIDDEN HEARTS†
644—LOVERS IN HIDING†
682—ROYAL TARGET**
686—ROYAL RANSOM**
690—ROYAL PURSUIT**
705—DADDY TO THE RESCUE††
709—DEFENDING THE HEIRESS††
713—SAVING THE GIRL NEXT DOOR††
* * *
CLASSIFIED
For Your Information.
Read and Destroy:
The SHEY GROUP is a private paramilitary organization whose purpose is to take on high-risk, high-stakes missions in accord with U.S. government policy. All members are former CIA, FBI or military with top-level clearances and specialized skills. Members maintain close ties to the intelligence community and conduct high-level behind-the-scenes operations for the government as well as for private individuals and corporations.
The U.S. government will deny any connection with this group.
Employ at your own risk.
* * *
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Jack Donovan—The highly trained daredevil pilot and Shey Group operative is willing to assist the girl who used to live next door. However, helping Piper Payne will require him to place both his life and his heart in jeopardy.
Piper Payne—A good cop who has been framed and fired, she needs Jack’s help to clear her name. She’s also set on losing her virginity to her former teenage crush.
Vince Edwards and Leroy James—These two ordinary citizens have accused Piper of taking bribes—and nearly destroyed her career.
Aaron Hodges—A brilliant, eccentric computer entrepreneur. When questioned, he’s openly hostile, but does that make him guilty?
Danna Mudd—Hacker extraordinaire, she possesses the talent to pull off a crime, and the social skills to cast suspicion elsewhere.
John Smith, aka Easy As Pie—He’s big, dangerous and deceptive, but does he have the brains to set up Piper?
Venus De Lux—A wealthy hooker with a fond attachment to the wrong kind of man.
For Patricia Smith, an editor whose wise guidance is much appreciated. Thanks, Patricia!
Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Prologue
The cop wouldn’t be sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, not anymore, not after some intensely smooth computer hacking. Thanks to a back door in the police department’s computer program and two “solid citizens” who’d come forward and accused her of taking a bribe, detective Piper Payne had had her chain yanked good and tight.
She’d better get used to being out of the loop. Hung out to dry.
But just in case she persisted in her annoying inquiry, she now had bugs on her phone, worms on her computer and a miniature tracking and listening device in her wallet. She would be watched.
And if she made another wrong move, the chain would tighten around her neck. She wouldn’t just lose her job, she’d lose her life.
Chapter One
Jack Donovan had a reputation for attaining success—even if it required dive-bombing his chopper through a hailstorm of bullets. Today no one was shooting at him, but if he’d known what waited for him down below, he might never have landed.
When he was a Navy SEAL, Jack had scuba dived five oceans and climbed mountains on four continents. Nevertheless, with his instinctive timing and superb reflexes, he’d been born to fly. For the military he’d flown test aircraft, and for his current employer, the Shey Group, he flew everything from gliders to jets to helicopters.
Blissfully unaware of his fate, Jack couldn’t have ordered a better day for flying the chopper. The Florida sky above the Gulf of Mexico shimmered a rich silky blue that was full of promise. With not even a hint of a thundercloud in sight, Jack cruised above Clearwater’s sandy shoreline with no more on his mind than his anticipation of landing smoothly, then kicking back with an icy brew in a honky-tonk bar along the beach, where he could watch the sun set over the Gulf.
He sighted his landing field. At one thousand feet above his target, Jack powered down his engines. Man and machine plummeted toward the earth. If he had been in a plane, he’d have had to dive the nose down to pick up enough speed to glide. But in a chopper, he maneuvered his hands and feet to autorotate the rotors, a basic landing maneuver that every pilot practiced in case the engines conked out during a flight.
Without his heart even skipping a beat, Jack lightly touched down and abandoned one dream vehicle for another, his latest acquisition, a new Mercedes coupe. He chose his cars like his women—fast and sleek and ready to run. After striding across the tarmac to his silver convertible, which had sat all afternoon in the baking sun, he
slid behind the wheel. The leather seat was hot enough to make him wince.
He’d forgotten how extreme a Florida summer could be. Although Jack had grown up in Clearwater, he hadn’t been back home in years.
Bad memories of fights with his parents during his wild and reckless teenage years had kept him away. A decade ago Clearwater hadn’t been a big enough town for Jack Donovan. Except for spring break when college students flocked to the community’s tacky souvenir shops and powder sand beaches, the sleepy beachside town wasn’t a happening place.
Jack turned on the radio and air conditioner full blast. As Black Sabbath blared from his speakers, he pressed a button that caused the Mercedes’ hardtop to automatically fold into the trunk.
Yes, baby. Wind and sun and surf, here I come.
Years ago Jack had yearned for Paris, Tahiti and Nepal, and the navy had given him the means to fulfill his dreams. He’d since circumnavigated the world by boat and plane more times than he could count. The navy had also given him the discipline to turn himself into a productive citizen.
Now he was employed by the Shey Group, a private team of men, formerly with the military or one of the intelligence agencies, who charged high fees to take on missions that required special skills and classified connections. Working for the Shey Group allowed him the luxury of this silver coupe with its souped-up engine that could go from zero to sixty in 4.6 seconds. Not to mention his friends, the elite of the elite. Good guys to have at his side in a brawl. Not that Jack anticipated a fight. Not while on vacation.
Whistling, contented, he burned rubber, exiting the private airport. The car handled like the high-priced luxury item that she was, and he headed for the beach.
A cute yellow VW Bug pulled out behind him.
At the next corner Jack turned right. So did the yellow VW.
He might be on vacation, but Jack’s normal observation skills kicked in. That’s why he could take so many chances and still have all his body parts—he took calculated risks. Just for the hell of it, he made two right turns and then another left.
The VW Bug stuck to him like a flea.
Dark tinted windows prevented him from identifying the driver. But Jack no longer had any doubts that someone was following him. He had several choices. Since the Volkswagen could never match his speed, he could accelerate and lose the tail. Or he could confront his pursuer and find out what the hell was going on.
Intel first. With a grin of pleasure Jack pressed his foot down on the accelerator, hard, but not enough to outrun the VW.
The car matched his speed. The other driver was determined, but kept a constant distance between them.
He sped through a green light and headed for the highway. The car stayed right with him.
Impressive. The driver of the other car didn’t come too close, and yet Jack couldn’t shake him, not without a flat-out race on the interstate. Exciting perhaps, and a choice he might have made as little as five years ago, but—no matter how much he wanted to stomp the pedal to the metal—he couldn’t justify the risk to civilians.
However, now that he had some idea he might be dealing with a professional, he thought back over his past few missions. All of them had been sewed up tight. Logan Kincaid, his boss, didn’t leave loose ends. But perhaps one of the team was working a case that he hadn’t been brought up to speed on yet. A case that might be casting danger in his direction.
Jack turned down the heavy metal blaring from the radio and hit the call button of his cell phone.
“The Shey Group,” a secretary answered.
“Logan Kincaid, please.”
“Bored with your vacation, Jack?” Logan’s warmly modulated voice came over the speaker phone.
His boss might not be in his office, but he was usually available. Using state-of-the-art technology, Logan had his calls forwarded to his cell phone so he could be reached 24/7, pretty much anywhere in the world. “Ready to take on your next assignment?”
“Sheesh. I just got here.”
“So you aren’t calling because you missed us already? What’s up?”
“I called to ask you the same question.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Any operations working that I should know about?”
“We’re practically shut down.”
“Then there’s no reason for someone to be tailing me?”
“Jack, you haven’t been down there twenty-four hours and you already have some jealous—”
“I haven’t even checked in to a hotel.” Yet. “I spent last night with my folks.” A tense awkward evening he’d prefer to forget. How could they have raised a child and then have nothing to say to him except to criticize? In short order they’d disparaged his career. His friends. His lack of a family. His wheels. And his haircut. You’d have thought he had come home with five earrings and a tattoo, instead of this sweet little coupe.
“Don’t your folks turn in around eleven?”
Logan never forgot a detail. He’d once overheard Jack calling his mother to wish her a happy birthday. She hadn’t been pleased when Jack had roused her out of a sound sleep at 10:30 p.m. And Logan knew that Jack was a night owl and hadn’t gone to sleep before midnight since he’d started shaving. So no doubt Logan thought he’d been out partying and had taken someone else’s honey home and the car following was a jealous lover—but it wasn’t like that.
“You need any help?” Logan offered.
If Jack asked, his boss would mobilize a team within twenty minutes. Jack lived for that kind of loyalty—something his parents wouldn’t ever comprehend.
“I can handle it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I hardly think a yellow VW Bug would be the choice of an assassin.”
He rechecked the side mirror. The car was still following him.
“Fine. Try not to get any speeding tickets.”
Jack chuckled and let his foot ease off the gas. Just because he had superior reflexes and could handle high-speed maneuvers didn’t mean the local cops would appreciate his breaking the law.
For the moment he adhered to the speed limit and allowed the tail to come after him. During his stint in the military Jack had learned the value of planning. He would pick the time and place for the confrontation with his mysterious pursuer. Someplace private. Where there was no chance of innocents catching a stray bullet.
Jack leaned over and opened the glove compartment. Driving with one hand, keeping his attention on the road, he reached for his gun. He tucked the weapon into the front of his jeans and checked the rearview mirror.
Soon. He would make his move.
Jack veered from the highway to the off-ramp. Two miles farther, he turned into an industrial section of town. He passed several rough-looking bars and crossed a parking lot to a dilapidated warehouse that squatted beside a chain-link fence overgrown with chin-high weeds. The doors of the warehouse had long since been scrapped, leaving him a dark, private spot in which to corner his pursuer.
Jack stepped on the gas, heading straight for the doorless entrance. He entered the building, jammed on the brakes and hauled on the wheel, whipping the car around until he faced the entrance.
Within seconds he’d exited his vehicle and taken cover in the shadows by the opening. He flicked off the gun’s safety and aimed. Timing was critical.
The VW slowed, then halted just outside in the sunlight.
Come to me.
Just a little more.
The driver flicked on the headlights, and Jack averted his eyes to avoid being momentarily blinded. The car edged forward.
While the sight of his car distracted the driver, Jack lunged toward the Bug and the driver’s door. He yanked on the handle. Employing several smooth moves, he pressed the gun to the driver’s temple, locked his free arm around her throat and dragged her from the car.
A woman. Too surprised to resist?
Her hair was auburn, the fragrance scented by sunshine. Jack had yet to see her face, but bad peop
le came in curvy shapes and 110-pound packages. With her back pressed to his chest, he couldn’t mistake the hard bulge of her harness and gun poking his ribs.
The female was armed.
“Don’t move one freakin’ finger. Don’t so much as breathe hard, sugar.”
Odd. She still hadn’t tensed. Didn’t fight him.
Instead, she chuckled. “Oh, Jack. You always were such a hothead. You going to pat me down?”
He hadn’t heard that voice in ten years. Two things became clear. She wasn’t scared, but amused. And Jack immediately recognized her voice. “Piper?”
His next-door neighbor? The bane of his childhood existence? The pesky kid who had found his stash of Playboy magazines under his bed when he was nine? The tomboy who’d followed him all through his teenage years? The same Piper who’d spied on him while he got to second base with some cheerleader whose name he’d long since forgotten? The same Piper who had begged him for a ride on his motorcycle and then wouldn’t go until he found her a helmet and promised not to speed?
Stifling a curse, Jack flicked his thumb to engage the gun’s safety, then tucked the weapon into the small of his back. “Piper…Payne?”
She giggled. “In the flesh.” He released her, but she didn’t step away. Instead she turned to face him.
He had only a second to glimpse ivory skin and wide-set, mischievous eyes before she slipped her arms around his neck and bussed him right on the lips.
“Hey!” He stepped back.
And took a good look at her. He hadn’t seen her since she was a skinny fifteen-year-old with braces and tattered jeans. The braces were gone, and she now boasted straight white teeth, full lips and a short nose dusted with freckles. She’d done something to her carrot-red hair, and it now shimmered a rich auburn with golden highlights. The same cool green eyes that he remembered stared back at him, her amusement mocking him.
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