Barb Han - Hard Target

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“Nothing I can talk about.”

“Why not?” Her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips, where it lingered, and then continued down his body.

That was the sexiest thing to happen to him in the past year. “I need a shower.”

“Want some help?” she teased.

“Normally I’d take you up on that.” He stalked across the room, pausing at the door to the bathroom.

“I was kidding. No man on earth would want to shower with me the way I must look.”

He moved to the bed and leaned over her, stopping a fraction of an inch before their lips touched. “Why not? Most men I know appreciate a beautiful woman.”

Those stunning hazel eyes of hers darkened. Being this close was probably a bad idea. Even if she wasn’t his witness, she was injured. No way could they do anything in her condition.

But then autopilot kicked in, and Reed couldn’t stop himself.

Hard Target

Barb Han

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BARB HANlives in North Texas with her very own hero-worthy husband, three beautiful children, a spunky golden retriever/standard poodle mix and too many books in her to-read pile. In her downtime, she plays video games and spends much of her time on or around a basketball court. She loves interacting with readers and is grateful for their support. You can reach her at barbhan.com.

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This book is dedicated to the amazing and strong people in my life. Allison Lyons, you continue to amaze me with your insight and passion. Jill Marsal, you are brilliant and I’m grateful to work with you.

Brandon, Jacob and Tori, you bring out the best in me every day—I love all three of you more than you can know. John, none of this would be this amazing and fun without you—my best friend and the great love of my life.

Liz Lipperman, a huge thank-you for answering my many medical questions and offering brainstorming support. You really are the bomb!

Contents

Cover

Introduction “Okay, what’s going on?” “Nothing I can talk about.” “Why not?” Her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips, where it lingered, and then continued down his body. That was the sexiest thing to happen to him in the past year. “I need a shower.” “Want some help?” she teased. “Normally I’d take you up on that.” He stalked across the room, pausing at the door to the bathroom. “I was kidding. No man on earth would want to shower with me the way I must look.” He moved to the bed and leaned over her, stopping a fraction of an inch before their lips touched. “Why not? Most men I know appreciate a beautiful woman.” Those stunning hazel eyes of hers darkened. Being this close was probably a bad idea. Even if she wasn’t his witness, she was injured. No way could they do anything in her condition. But then autopilot kicked in, and Reed couldn’t stop himself.

Title Page Hard Target Barb Han www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author BARB HAN lives in North Texas with her very own hero-worthy husband, three beautiful children, a spunky golden retriever/standard poodle mix and too many books in her to-read pile. In her downtime, she plays video games and spends much of her time on or around a basketball court. She loves interacting with readers and is grateful for their support. You can reach her at barbhan.com .

Dedication This book is dedicated to the amazing and strong people in my life. Allison Lyons, you continue to amaze me with your insight and passion. Jill Marsal, you are brilliant and I’m grateful to work with you. Brandon, Jacob and Tori, you bring out the best in me every day—I love all three of you more than you can know. John, none of this would be this amazing and fun without you—my best friend and the great love of my life. Liz Lipperman, a huge thank-you for answering my many medical questions and offering brainstorming support. You really are the bomb!

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

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Emily Baker pulled her legs into her chest and hugged her knees. Waves of fear and anger rolled through her.

A hammer pounded the inside of her head, a residual effect from the beatings. Her busted bottom lip was dry and cracked from dehydration.

“Move,” one of the men commanded, forcing her to her feet.

A crack across her back nearly caused her to fall again.

The whole experience of the past few days had been surreal. One minute she’d been kayaking in a tropical paradise, enjoying all the rich sounds of the dense forest. The next she was being dragged through the jungle by guerrillas. She’d been blindfolded for what had to be hours, although she’d completely lost track of time, and had been led through pure hell.

Vegetation thickened the longer she’d walked. Thorns pierced her feet. The sun had blistered her skin. Ant bites covered her ankles.

A man they called Dueño had ordered the men to change her appearance. They’d chopped her hair and poured something on it that smelled like bleach. She assumed they did it to ensure she no longer matched the description of the woman the resort would report as missing. Oh, God, the word missing roiled her stomach.

She’d read about American tourists being snatched while on vacation, but didn’t those things happen to other people? Rich people?

Not data entry clerks with no family who’d scrimped and saved for three years to take the trip in the first place.

Men in front of her fanned out, and she saw the small encampment ahead. The instant a calloused hand made contact with her shoulder, she shuddered.

“Get down!” He pushed her down on all fours.

The leader, Dueño, stood over her. He was slightly taller than the others and well dressed. His face was covered, so she couldn’t pick him out of a lineup if she’d wanted to. “You want to go home, Ms. Baker?”

“Yes.” How’d he know her name?

“Then tell me what I want to know. Give me the password to SourceCon.” Anger laced his words.

How did he know where she worked? All thoughts of this being a random kidnapping fizzled and died.

“I can’t. I don’t have them.” The night before she’d left for vacation, she changed them as a precaution. Her new passwords were taped to the underside of her desk at home.

“Fine. Have it your way.” He turned his back. “Starve her until she talks.”

Twenty-four hours tied up with no food or water had left her weak, but she couldn’t give him what she didn’t know.

He returned the next morning. “Do you remember them now?”

“No. I already told you I don’t have them.” Anger and fear engulfed her like a raging forest fire.

He backhanded her and repeated the question. When another blow didn’t produce his desired result, he ordered one of the men to beat her, and another to dig a hole.