Kara Lennox - Downtown Debutante

“Wow! Kara Lennox’s BLOND JUSTICE series has it all—smart, determined heroines, ya-gotta-love-’em macho heroes, taut suspense and romance that will steam your glasses while it melts your heart. Each book is a winner; together they’re pure magic.”

—Bestselling author Merline Lovelace

Dear Reader,

I often write about heroines who are slightly offbeat, but Brenna Thompson, my debutante-in-denial, takes the cake. Perhaps that’s because she’s a lot like me—petite, unconventional, creative. I even gave her my hair (which is currently in blond spikes), my former downtown loft and my love for silver charms. (Unlike Brenna, however, I’m not an heiress, darn it.)

Who better to match up with Brenna than uptight FBI special agent Heath Packer, who would never dream of breaking the rules. Or would he? I’ll just tell you that Heath isn’t all he first appears to be.

I hope you have fun with Brenna and Heath as they continue the search for con man Marvin Carter, which began in Hometown Honey (HAR #1068). This story will take you on a wild romp from Cottonwood, Texas, to New Orleans, Dallas and finally New York. I don’t want to give too much away, but vengeance is sweet, and it involves an ice sculpture and an empty elevator shaft.

All my best,

Downtown Debutante

Kara Lennox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Texas native Kara Lennox has been an art director, typesetter, textbook editor and reporter. She’s worked in a boutique, a health club and an ad agency. She’s been an antiques dealer and even a blackjack dealer. But no work has made her happier than writing romance novels.

When not writing, Kara indulges in an ever-changing array of weird hobbies. (Her latest passions are treasure hunting and creating mosaics.) She loves to hear from readers. You can visit her Web page and drop her a note at www.karalennox.com.

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

934—VIXEN IN DISGUISE*

942—PLAIN JANE’S PLAN*

951—SASSY CINDERELLA*

974—FORTUNE’S TWINS

990—THE MILLIONAIRE NEXT DOOR

1052—THE FORGOTTEN COWBOY

1068—HOMETOWN HONEY†

My gratitude to FBI Special Agent

Jennifer Coffindaffer for her help with researching

FBI procedures. Any mistakes are mine.

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Brenna Thompson drew herself deeper into the down comforter, trying to reclaim the blessed relief of sleep. But instead of drifting back down, she awoke with a jolt and smacked into hard reality. She was stranded in Cottonwood, Texas, without a dime to her name, her entire future hanging by a thread.

And someone was banging on her door at the Kountry Kozy Bed & Breakfast.

Wearing only a teddy, she slid out of bed and stumbled to the door. “I told you to take the key,” she said grumpily, opening the door, expecting to see Cindy, her new roommate. “What time is it, any—” She stopped as her bleary eyes struggled to focus. Standing in the hallway was a broad-shouldered man in a dark suit, a blindingly white shirt and a shimmering blue silk tie. He was at least a foot taller than Brenna’s own five foot three, and she had to strain her neck to meet his cool, blue-eyed gaze. Another man stood behind the first, but he was in shadow—like he was trying to be in the background.

In a purely instinctual gesture, she slammed the door in his face. My God, she was almost naked. A stranger in a suit had seen her almost naked. Her whole body flushed, then broke out in goose bumps.

The knock came again, softer this time, but firm.

“Uh, just a minute!” She didn’t have a robe. She wasn’t a robe-wearing sort of person. But she spied a robe belonging to Sonya, her other roommate, lying at the foot of her bed. The white silk garment trailed the floor, the sleeves hanging almost to Brenna’s fingertips—Sonya was tall—but at least it sort of covered her.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door again. “Yes?”

Still there. Still just as tall, just as imposing, just as—handsome. Not her type, she thought quickly. But there was a certain commanding presence about this stranger that made her stomach swoop and her palms itch.

“Brenna Thompson?”

Deep voice. It made all her hair follicles stand at attention.

“Yes, that’s me.” He didn’t smile, and a frisson of alarm wiggled through her body. “Is something wrong? Oh, my God, did something happen to someone in my family?”

He hesitated fractionally. “No. I’m Special Agent Heath Packer with the FBI. This is Special Agent Pete LaJolla.”

The other man stepped closer and nodded a greeting. They both looked as if they expected to enter.

Brenna glanced over her shoulder. The room was a complete wreck. Every available surface was covered with clothes and girlie stuff, not to mention baby things belonging to Cindy’s little boy. Even fastidious Sonya’s bed was unmade. Sonya was used to servants doing that sort of thing for her.

Special Agent No. 1 didn’t wait for her consent. He eased past her into the room, his observant gaze taking everything in.

“If you’d given me some warning, I could have tidied up,” she groused, pulling the robe more tightly around her. She hadn’t realized how thin the fabric was.

Mustering her manners, Brenna cleared off a cosmetics case and a pair of shoes from the room’s only chair. “Here, sit down. You’re making me nervous. And…Agent LaJolla, was it?” She brushed some clothes off Sonya’s twin bed. La Jolla nodded and sat gingerly on the bed while Brenna retreated to her own bed. She sat cross-legged on it, drawing the covers over her legs both for warmth and modesty.

“I assume you know why we’re here,” Packer said, easing his tall frame into the wingback chair. He looked even more masculine, surrounded by chintz and lace and cabbage roses.

“Something to do with Marvin Carter, I would guess. Does this mean someone is finally taking our case seriously? That other FBI guy in Louisiana—Del Roy or whatever his name was—he could hardly be bothered.” Indignation welled up in Brenna’s chest. “Big deal, three dumb blondes lost their life savings. Like, who cares? But I guess that suitcase full of cash caught your attention.” Brenna, Cindy and Sonya, all of them victims of the same con man, had tracked him to Louisiana and flushed him out, with no help from the FBI. As a result, they recovered Cindy’s money—$300,000 in cash—though Marvin himself got away.

While LaJolla studied his fingernails in a bored manner, Packer studied Brenna, and she could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes, carefully calculating his answer. “We’d like to hear the facts of the case from you firsthand. And, if you don’t mind…” He pulled a microcassette recorder from his jacket pocket and set it on the tiny table next to the chair. He also brought out a notebook and pen.