Free Her Secret Agent Man by Cindy Dees Page A

until her father was behind bars. He was nothing if not a man of his word. In the light of morning she could see it was best to go ahead as planned for now. She’d keep trying to contact Eduardo and make a deal.
    In fact, now that she had Dutch’s protection, it was probably time to apply a little pressure to daddy dearest. And she knew exactly how to do it. She grinned at the idea that had popped into her head when she woke up this morning. She could transfer the money she’d taken from him into Charlie Squad’s bank account. Surely they had some sort of quick-draw checking account for use during operations in the field. If she could find that account number, she could tweak her father’s nose in a big way. A way guaranteed to draw his attention. Eduardo would rupture something when he found out.
    Now, where would Dutch keep something like a bank account number? The sort of offshore account she was looking for typically had up to a twenty-digit number with long access codes, as well. She gave him a couple of minutes to get settled into his shower and then slipped into the bedroom.
    She glanced around and spied his cell phone lying on the bed. She reached for it, then hesitated.
    What had her decision to run away from her father turned her into? Here she was, sneaking around like a criminal, invading the privacy of a decent guy. She pictured Carina’s face. All this was for the sister she’d raised like her own daughter. She had to stop their father, once and for all.
    She snatched up Dutch’s cell phone and flipped it open. Drat. Not a model that stored dates or notes, or more to the point, bank account numbers. She’d have to look somewhere else.
    Thoughtfully, she punched the redial button on Dutch’s phone to bring up the last number called. Her hands began to shake as she stared at the digital display. The letters CS glowed up at her. Charlie Squad. The phone number burned into her brain. Oh Lord. Had he told his team about her? Called for backup maybe? If so, she’d be in custody or dead within a matter of hours.
    Her breathing raced frantically and she grew light-headed. She’d be killed before she ever got a chance to save Carina and the countless other people her father would harm or kill someday. The water in the bathroom turned off and she nearly dropped the phone. She replaced it quickly on the bed and raced from the room.
    She buried her nose in a random book from the stocked shelf in the living room. Frozen in terror, she forced her eyes to travel across the page as if she was actually comprehending the book she held numbly.
    Thankfully, Dutch paid no attention to her ruse. He spent most of the day reading and resting. She wouldn’t call it relaxing, exactly. He varied between states of action and inaction, but he never let down his guard.
    The vicious winds finally let up in the late afternoon, leaving behind a blanket of soft powder snow, perfect for skiing. She eyed it wistfully for no more than two minutes before Dutch spoke up behind her. “Wanna hit the slopes?”
    She looked over at him eagerly. “Really?” Lord, she could use a physical release of the tension that’d been churning inside her all day. “But won’t that be dangerous with my father’s men looking for us?”
    He shrugged. “This place has its own mountain. A private one. They won’t find us.” He added casually, “I don’t know about you, but I really could use the exercise.”
    “Let’s do it,” she said eagerly.
    She could swear he checked the small of his back before he ushered her out the door. Armed, was he? His casual gesture restored the constant, edgy fear she lived with these days at the same time that it reassured her.
    The resort’s ski pro outfitted them for boots and skis and whisked them up the mountain in the resort’s sleek helicopter. It landed on the summit and they climbed out into blindingly bright sunlight glittering off pristine snow. Nary a ski track marred its smooth perfection.
    Dutch