Spin Control

Suzannah stared back, completely confused. He was wearing a baseball cap and nicely fitted jeans. He was also wearing a brown leather bomber jacket exactly like Justin’s, but with the binoculars obscuring his features, she simply couldn’t tell who it was.

At least, not for sure.

If it were Justin, he would have waved to her by now. Even if he hadn’t intended for her to catch him following her, he’d do something now to acknowledge her. Wouldn’t he?

She was about to call out to him when the man finally moved. Reaching his hand under his jacket, he pulled out a jet-black, long-barreled firearm. Then, to her shock, he aimed it right at her.

Dear Reader,

Law students learn countless rules governing trial procedure. Most laypeople know the major ones, too, just from reading or watching legal thrillers. Rules like: Don’t lead your witness. Don’t badger their witness. That sort of thing.

But Rule #1 overshadows all others: Don’t piss off the judge.

A good litigator chants it silently before every appearance. No competent attorney wants to test it, much less break it.

It’s true that a judge’s rulings can be reversed later on appeal, but while trial is in session, he or she is omnipotent. Get on that judge’s bad side, and suddenly, you have zero leeway with either your questioning or your arguments. Heck, at that point, you’re just trying to survive! Because if you’re really annoying, you could go to jail for contempt.

Among her other problems, the heroine of Spin Control has just broken Rule #1.

Enjoy!

Kate

is the author of more than a dozen novels and novellas, ranging from time travel and paranormal to historical romance, suspense and romantic comedy. An attorney, she draws on her criminal law background to create challenges worthy of her heroines, who crack safes, battle bad guys and always get their man. As for Kate, she definitely got her man and is living happily ever after with him and their two children in Elk Grove, California. Please visit her Web site at www.katedonovan.com.

This story is dedicated to our dog Murphy,

who was so sweet, so loyal and so loving for fourteen years, and who never once complained at the end. Good boy, Murf. We’ll never forget you.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Kristie Hennessy’s career at the Strategic Profiling and Identification Network required her to excel at three things: evaluating a subject’s state of mind, anticipating his next move and designing a strategy to deal with it. She had been doing this sort of thing every day, weekends included, for almost two years, yet had to admit the man she was currently observing was the most fascinating subject she had ever encountered.

He paced back and forth like a wild animal that had just been caged. The fact that he was visibly conflicted was particularly intriguing given his profile. Everything in his file indicated that he was a man of incredible confidence, determination and single-mindedness. And Kristie’s dealings with him up till this point had proved that profile correct.

So why was he suddenly so unsure of himself? So tense? So downright fidgety?

And then it hit her, right between the eyes. This man—SPIN Director Will McGregor—was about to propose to her.

Finally!

“As you know,” he was saying, his sexy voice resembling an X-rated travelogue as he paced the floor of her Washington, D.C., apartment, “the West Coast office is ready to roll. The last stage in this plan is to assign permanent staff, and then—assuming the President doesn’t change his mind again—SPIN will be converted from a separate agency into a division of the Bureau.”

“It’s like going home for you,” she agreed, wistful for the days when he had been an FBI agent in the field, depending on her—his “spinner”—to provide him with undercover identities and support via computer and telephone.

It had been his gorgeous intonation and impressive record that had first attracted her to him. For weeks they had known each other only by voice. Now they were lovers. And if she was reading the signals accurately, they were about to become even more.

“I kind of miss the days when you were an agent yourself,” she told him. “But you’re such a great director, the change has definitely been worth it.”

He seemed disconcerted by the interruption, so she warned herself to stop distracting him from his objective.

McGregor cleared his throat. “Once the transition is complete, I won’t be a director any longer. I’ll be an assistant director of the FBI. They’ve promised me I can choose to be based in L.A. or D.C. And since my sister lives in L.A., that’s my preference. But it affects you, too, because I’d want you to permanently relocate there. The good news is, you won’t have to find housing. Because obviously you’d be living at my place.”