The Defender
A TOUGH-AS-NAILS FBI SPECIAL AGENT AND A STUNNING BLONDE ATTORNEY WITH SOMETHING TO PROVE JOIN FORCES IN THE DEFENDER. By all accounts Penny Hennings was the sort of woman FBI special agent Russell Voight went for. Smart, sexy and with just enough sass to keep him honest. Then she went sticking her nose in undercover FBI business. He knew her legal reputation would skyrocket if she won this case. But every move she makes undoes all the work Russell's put into taking down the city's biggest crooks. And the criminals they're after will do anything to avoid the witness stand–including kill. So it's time to pool their resources and collaborate. Even if working together every day takes them late into the night…and into the line of fire.
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A sly, sexy grin spread over Penny’s mouth. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not one bit.”
She batted her eyes. “Oh, Russell. Flattery will get you everywhere.”
At that, he had to laugh. “You’re a piece of work. I’m glad I saved your life today.”
She picked up a pen and threw it at him. “No fair bringing the whole saving-my-life thing into it.”
The pen hit him in the chest and he snatched it up. Mont Blanc. For what that sucker cost, she shouldn’t be throwing it around.
“I’ll make you a deal. You don’t try to play me and I won’t remind you I saved your life.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”
She glanced at his hand and pursed her lips.
After what felt like another solid minute, she reached her hand out. “Fine. Deal.”
Russell didn’t know if it was the thrill of having her agree or just the touch of her hand, but he was suddenly reluctant to let go.
USA TODAY bestselling author ADRIENNE GIORDANO writes romantic suspense and mystery. She is a Jersey girl at heart, but now lives in the Midwest with her workaholic husband, sports-obsessed son and Buddy the Wheaten Terrorist (Terrier). She is a cofounder of Romance University blog and Lady Jane’s Salon-Naperville, a reading series dedicated to romantic fiction.
Please visit www.adriennegiordano.com. Adrienne can also be found on Facebook, at www.facebook.com/AdrienneGiordanoAuthor, and on Twitter, at www.twitter.com/AdriennGiordano. For information on Adrienne’s street team, Dangerous Darlings, go to www.facebook.com/groups/DangerousDarlings.
Contents
Chapter One
Standing on the Cook County Federal Courthouse steps, special agent Russ Voight decided Penny Hennings deserved a star on the Perfect Posteriors of America wall of fame.
Maybe that was sexist, but since his meeting with Penny had been put on ice while she and Gerald Hennings—her legendary defense-attorney father—held an impromptu press conference, Russ needed a way to distract himself. And Penny’s rear provided a great distraction.
Months ago, his coworkers at the Chicago FBI field office had dubbed her Killer Cupcake for her aggressive cross-examination skills, but to Russ’s way of thinking, she might be Killer Cupcake for other reasons. Those reasons having nothing to do with a courtroom and everything to do with her, his bedroom and lots of free time.
Ah, distractions. How he loved them.
Bang. A gunshot cracked the air.
Gerald ducked. Penny didn’t. Blood roared to the front of Russ’s brain. He snatched his sidearm from his holster, pushed off the iron railing he’d been leaning on and spotted Penny—not ten feet away—frozen on the steps as the reporter in front of her crumpled. Hit.
Loud, ear-blasting screams erupted. Pedestrians dived to the ground—dead-last thing they should do—or ran like hell, exactly what they should do. Russ sprinted toward Penny, still glued to her spot, and did a quick recon. Where’s the shooter?
Bang.
Across the street. High up.
“Run!” Russ shouted.
But Penny didn’t move. She just stood there in the streaming sunshine while her red power suit made one hell of an amazing target. One step below, her father had dropped. Whether he’d been hit or not, Russ couldn’t tell. Get there. Three more steps. He latched on to Penny’s arm, dragging her behind him. Gerald Hennings lifted his head. Alive. “Move!”
Penny turned back to her father. “Dad.”
“You’ve got to move,” Russ yelled.
But Penny dug in, yanking free to go to her father. “I can’t leave him.”
Bang.
Another shot pierced the step next to Gerald and a hunk of cement flew.
Penny’s perfect porcelain skin went white. Game over. If he didn’t do something, she’d be dead on the next shot.
His brain in full overload, he plowed into her, wrapping his hand around the back of her head to break the landing. They hit the cement and a rush of air exploded from his lungs.
“Oofff,” Penny said.
Bang.
Right side. Find the shooter. With Penny trapped under him, he lifted his head an inch and glanced across the street. Parking garage.
The shooter had to be on one of the top floors of the parking garage.
Onlookers continued to scatter, their shouts clanging together. From the courthouse doors, armed guards charged out, weapons drawn. Pedestrians on the sidewalk had either fled or taken cover. Some huddled behind trees or garbage cans or any other solid object.
Gerald was still sprawled beside them. He faced Russ and Penny, and his blue eyes were loaded with fear that Russ had seen too many times. We’ve got to move.
Suddenly, the air went still and Russ lifted his head another inch. A slight wind rustled leaves and the bright blue of a May sky taunted him, because some psycho decided today would be the day to go stone-cold crazy on a bunch of civilians.
Under him, Penny moved. Now she wanted to move?
