Debra Webb - Guarding the Heiress

Doug reminded himself of this fact as his eyes feasted on the way she moved. She was an assignment, yes, but she was also the most fascinating woman he’d ever met.

“Swear you won’t leave my side for an instant? Swear it or I won’t go,” Eddi said. “As long as you’re with me, I can do this.”

Ignoring the warning in his brain, Doug reached for her hand. He held it tenderly and reveled in the rush of desire that burned through him. “I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.”

Before he could fathom her intent, she leaned across and kissed his cheek. In that infinitesimal moment before she drew away, it took every ounce of discipline he possessed not to kiss her back. Not to draw her into his arms and kiss her the way she deserved to be kissed…

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This book is dedicated to a bright, beautiful young lady who never lets anything stop her from reaching her goals. No matter what life has thrown her way, she always triumphs while showing kindness and generosity to all those around her. My niece, Tanya Kimble Turley, this book is for you and your very own Knight in Shining Armor, your husband, Ray.

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners and working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. 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 they finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. 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.

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

Epilogue

“Are you sure this young woman is indeed a D’Martine heir?” The man studied him closely, as if he were some kind of bug under a microscope. “I need absolute certainty here. If what you say is true, then—”

“I know what I saw,” Joe said sharply. “And I know what it means. I’ve had twenty long years in the state penitentiary to think about it. That’s the only reason I went back there first thing when I got out.” He snorted, a disgustingly crude sound judging by the other man’s flinch. “You think I bagged that kid twenty-five years ago because I was lucky?”

The other man just stared at him with obvious impatience and no small amount of distaste.

“I bagged him so easy because he was distracted by his girlfriend. He was in love,” Joe added with an emphatic wave of his arms. “So damned in love he didn’t even notice I was following him until I’d nailed him.”

Another flinch from the guy who’d been his partner twenty-five years ago. A partner who hadn’t spent a solitary day behind bars and, from the looks of him, had suffered little considering their deal had gone so far south it had burned out somewhere in the vicinity of the equator. Instead of landing a ten-million-dollar ransom as they had planned, they’d ended up with a body to dispose of and nothing to show for their trouble.

He—the silent partner—had insisted they were never to see each other, or even to speak to each other, again. After all, it was his hind end in the sling. The high-and-mighty partner was the mastermind behind the whole plan. Course it wasn’t his fault the package had gotten damaged.

Old Joe had no one to blame for that except himself. He’d screwed up. Had too much to drink and the young heir had died as a result, leaving Joe and his partner nothing to do but dump the body and make sure no evidence pointed toward either of them. They’d gotten away with it, by George. Not a soul on earth knew they had been the ones. If Joe hadn’t gotten into that other trouble a little later, he’d have walked away clean with a number of crimes to his credit.

But, fact was, he’d spent twenty years in prison. The whole time he’d thought of little else except what he’d missed by screwing up that kidnapping. He could have been drinking tequila down in Cancún; instead, he was wasting away in a cell. Then it had dawned on him that maybe there was hope for a second chance. He’d seen how crazy that rich boy had been over the waitress he’d sneaked away from his hotshot college every weekend to see. A girl like that had no hopes in hell of snagging herself a rich boy without a little leverage, planned or not. Joe had thought on it ever since. The very day the state released him from prison he’d gotten on a bus and headed straight for Meadowbrook, Maryland. He’d hung out for a few days, laying low and acting nonchalant. And, lo and behold, he’d been right.

There was another D’Martine heir. No way could he be wrong. The girl was the spitting image of her daddy. All Joe needed was his old partner to make it happen. To have a second chance at the rest of his life in the land of luxury and pleasure. Damned D’Martines had too much money anyhow. It wouldn’t hurt them to share a little. This time he’d make sure nobody got damaged until he had what he wanted.

“All right,” his partner finally relented. “I’ll set things in motion.” He started to turn away, then hesitated. His face turned as hard as the rock wall that surrounded the prison Joe had only recently departed. “But this time there will be no mistakes.”

Joe smiled. “No mistakes.”

Old Joe might be a little slow, but he never, ever made the same mistake twice.

History was about to repeat itself.

And no one would see it coming.

Doug Cooper waited impatiently in Victoria Colby’s office, his anticipation mounting. He’d been stuck on desk duty since taking that bullet six weeks ago. Lucky for him it hadn’t hit anything vital, just put him out of commission temporarily.

But now he was ready to get back to work. He was immensely bored with reading reports and studying case scenarios. He was ready for some action. Victoria had briefed him last week on the first case in which he would serve as lead investigator. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with the assignment, but he would deal with it. The case, as Victoria had said, was somewhat sensitive and required an investigator with a certain background. Doug understood all that. But that didn’t mean he liked it.

He preferred to keep his background exactly there—in the background. He’d worked too hard to put that past behind him. But, as Victoria had said, that very past was pertinent to the case. And Doug wanted his first assignment as a lead investigator. Wanted it badly enough that he was willing to do whatever was required of him. If his roots as the middle son of one of the wealthiest families in America today—one which had been called the last American royal family—would ensure his ability to complete this assignment, he would utilize the highbrow upbringing and sophisticated education that came with the DNA sequence to which he’d been born.