Agent Cowboy

The way he’d held on to her hand as they scaled the roof. Or the feel of his hands moving over her body as he gently checked her for injuries. She couldn’t let her mind dwell on how he held her.

“I need to go out for a while before I do something we’ll both regret,” Trent said, looking so deep in her eyes that Kelly couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but stare back at him, knowing full well that the longing inside her was reflected in her eyes for him to see.

“You have to stop looking at me that way,” he murmured, his face closer somehow or maybe it was her imagination. “I can’t…not react.”

Before she could stop herself, she touched him. She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting her face up to his. That mesmerizing mouth swooped down on hers, kissing her like she’d never been kissed before.

There was no gentleness this time, no tender brushing of lips, this was passion personified….

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and with the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing full-time and in 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345 or visit her Web site at www.debrawebb.com to find out exciting news about her next book.

Kelly Pruitt—She’s on the run from the people who killed her boss. She can’t trust the police or the FBI…can she trust the cowboy who shows up at her door?

Trent Tucker—As a Colby Agency investigator, it’s Trent’s job to find Kelly and to solve the mystery surrounding a multiple homicide and her disappearance. But can he keep her alive long enough to sort through the pieces of the puzzle?

Ray Jarvis—Kelly’s boss. Is he laundering money for the cartel?

Ann Jones—Is she friend or foe? She took the bullet intended for Kelly. Did she invite murder into Kelly’s life?

Cyrus McCade—The FBI special agent is running interference for the cartel. He wants Kelly Parker dead.

Norton Davis—Is the FBI special agent set up to take McCade’s fall? Or is the twenty-five thousand dollars in his pocket an investment for his future?

William Lester—Is the senator trying to help a friend or bring down an old foe?

Detective Hargrove—Is he working for the investigation or against it?

Detective Kennamer—He’s in it for the money.

Heath Murphy—Trent’s backup from the Colby Agency.

Darlene Whitehead—Is she in love with Ray Jarvis or his money?

This book is dedicated to a lady who listens to me whine when I’m worried; who says all the right things when I think everything is going wrong; and who is simply a good friend. To my agent, Pattie Steele-Perkins.

Thanks for being my sounding board.

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

Houston, Texas

Friday, 4:45 p.m.

Kelly Pruitt watched as her boss greeted his final appointment for the day at the front entrance of his small Houston office. A frown wriggled its way across her forehead. Something wasn’t quite right about the scene playing out before her but she couldn’t put her finger on the problem.

“Hold my calls,” Ray Jarvis said to her as he ushered the client into his private office.

“Yes, sir.”

Once the door was closed Kelly shrugged. She hadn’t made the appointment. She hadn’t even known her boss expected anyone else this close to five o’clock on Friday evening. He usually liked to get away a little early on Fridays. Especially since this one kicked off a long holiday weekend.

Happy New Year.

She certainly hoped the new year would see to fruition the fulfillment of all her boss had promised her. Kelly shuffled together a pile of “to be filed” records on her desk and decided that filing would be her final task for the day. She preferred leaving her desk un-cluttered. Mondays seemed a little less daunting when she came in to a clean desk to start off the workweek.

As she moved from drawer to drawer, file folder to file folder, slipping in the relevant documents, she considered that she hadn’t completed five years of college, including obtaining her MBA, to perform clerical duties in a small Houston investment firm. But, during her extensive job search, she had been forced to see the one major strike against her—youth. It seemed, she’d found out the hard way, that no one wanted to hire her in the position she was qualified for because she was only twenty-two. Graduating high school a year early and maintaining a perfect four-point-oh grade point average in college didn’t matter in light of her lack of experience.