Read Her Secret Agent Man for Free Online

bathing her in warm comfort. Lord, she’d missed human contact. His sweater was warm and scratchy under her cheek, the man beneath it hard as steel. But in spite of the rigid way he held himself, he made her feel safe. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time.
    “Do you recognize them?” he murmured into her hair.
    “No,” she sighed against his chest. “What are we going to do with those two?” It was so nice to let someone else worry about things for a change.
    Dutch leaned back enough to look down at her. He actually grinned. “Now we get to have a little fun.”
    She blinked rapidly. That smile of his still could knock a grown woman right off her feet. “Fun? Are you kidding? These guys just attacked us and there are more of them where they come from!”
    Dutch merely stepped over to a kitchen drawer and pocketed a gadget that looked suspiciously like a high-tech lock pick one of her father’s men had shown her a few months back. Then he bent over and hoisted one of the guys over his shoulder. He said casually, “Open the door for me and make sure the hall’s clear, will you?”
    She missed the feel of his arms around her, but the sense of comfort lingered. She did as he requested and stood aside as he hauled the man out. At his head jerk, she followed him down the hallway. They ducked into an alcove that housed anicemaker and a couple of vending machines. Dutch dumped his burden on the floor.
    He murmured, “Keep an eye out and let me know if anyone comes this way.”
    She peeked into the hallway while he worked behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him at an unmarked door, inserting the snazzy, gunlike lock pick in the lock. Apparently breaking and entering was also part of his repertoire. A man of many talents. The door opened and he hauled the unconscious thug into what looked like a storage room for the maid’s cleaning carts.
    “Hold this door open while I go get the other guy.”
    She nodded and did as he directed. In the eternity he was gone, maybe a minute, she prayed fervently that the goon lying on the floor wouldn’t wake up.
    “Here we go.”
    She jumped violently as Dutch materialized beside her. He moved as silently as a big cat on the hunt. He dumped the second man beside the first one. “Grab me some sheets, will you?”
    She handed him a stack of linens. With quick jerks of powerful muscles, he tore them into thick strips and tied the men’s hands behind their backs. He secured them to heavy cleaning carts on opposite sides of the room from each other and locked the brakes on the cart’s wheels. He tied their feet to two more carts. Leaning back on his heels, he surveyed his work.
    “Too bad I can’t kill these guys on U.S. soil.”
    She shuddered at the cool calm with which he said that.
    He stood up, searching around the room. She watched, frowning, as he grabbed a complimentary pad of hotel stationery and a pen and scribbled a note. He laid it on the floor in front of the door. “There. That ought to keep them busy for a while, don’t you think?”
    She looked down at the note’s block letters and grinned. It read, Call the police. These are criminals.
    He tore up one last sheet, stuffing pieces of it into each of the men’s mouths and tying the gags in place with more strips of cloth. He straightened beside her. Goodness, his height was imposing. Ah, but it was nice to have all that brawn on her side for once.
    He plucked pistols out of holsters inside both men’s jackets and tucked them in his own waistband. “Let’s go,” he murmured.
    Apparently, he was accepting her deal. He’d just attacked and subdued two armed men on her behalf. She followed him out of the closet.
    He looked both ways down the empty hall. “Take me to your room. We’re packing your stuff and getting out of here.”
    That sounded like a great idea. In a matter of minutes she stood by the door with her luggage, watching him go through her room, wiping down the place for fingerprints.