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  What happens when the only man who can protect you is also your best customer? Find out in HelenKay Dimon’s Corcoran Team series.

  Kelsey Moore looked forward to her daily visit from Paxton Weeks. Watching the broad-shouldered, quiet man led to some wonderful daydreams. But for real? That was downright dangerous….

  It was no mistake Paxton visited Kelsey’s shop every morning. This was his first mission back from injury and he had something to prove: stake out the shop for a wanted man and take him in. But when two robbers hold Kelsey at gunpoint, Paxton blows his cover to save her life—and adds bodyguard to his list of duties. Now, with his secret out in the open—and her life in danger—the days have just become far from routine….

  “To protect you I should step back.” He rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip. “But the idea of someone else being with you, touching you is more than I can tolerate.”

  Her hand played with the scruff on the tip of his chin. “I wouldn’t let anyone else touch me.”

  “What about me?”

  “You can touch me as much as you want.” She whispered the response because it felt right to let the words dance softly off her tongue.

  After that his mouth dipped and his lips slipped over hers. Heat beat off her body and blood rushed to her head. Sensations walloped her—dizziness, elation. She craved his touch and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him in closer.

  Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

  For nearly thirty years fearless romance has fueled every Harlequin Intrigue book. Now we want everyone to know about the great crime stories our fantastic authors write and the variety of compelling miniseries we offer. We think our new cover look complements and enhances our promise to deliver edge-of-your-seat reads in all six of our titles—and brand-new titles every month!

  This month’s lineup is packed with nonstop mystery in Smoky Ridge Curse, the third in Paula Graves’s Bitterwood P.D. trilogy, exciting action in Sharpshooter, the next installment in Cynthia Eden’s Shadow Agents miniseries, and of course fearless romance—whether from newcomers Jana DeLeon and HelenKay Dimon or veteran author Aimée Thurlo, we’ve got every angle covered.

  Next month buckle up as Debra Webb returns with a new Colby Agency series featuring The Specialists. And in November USA TODAY bestselling author B.J. Daniels takes us back to “The Canyon” for her special Christmas at Cardwell Ranch celebration.

  Lots going on and lots more to come. Be sure to check out www.Harlequin.com for what’s coming next.

  Enjoy,

  Denise Zaza

  Senior Editor

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Ruthless

  HelenKay Dimon

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Award-winning author HelenKay Dimon spent twelve years in the most unromantic career ever—divorce lawyer. After dedicating all that effort to helping people terminate relationships, she is thrilled to deal in happy endings and write romance novels for a living. Now her days are filled with gardening, writing, reading and spending time with her family in and around San Diego. HelenKay loves hearing from readers, so stop by her website, www.helenkaydimon.com, and say hello.

  Books by HelenKay Dimon

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  1196—UNDER THE GUN*

  1214—NIGHT MOVES

  1254—GUNS AND THE GIRL NEXT DOOR*

  1260—GUNNING FOR TROUBLE*

  1297—LOCKED AND LOADED*

  1303—THE BIG GUNS*

  1352—WHEN SHE WASN’T LOOKING

  1369—COPY THAT

  1387—SWITCHED

  1434—FEARLESS**

  1440—RUTHLESS**

  *Mystery Men

  **Corcoran Team

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Pax Weeks—A former agent with the Defense Intelligence Agency and current member of the Corcoran Team. An on-the-job injury has him conducting “easy” surveillance at a coffee shop.

  Kelsey Moore—She broke away from her scam-artist father to become an independent business owner. Her coffee shop means everything to her, but her family’s activities put her in danger.

  Bryce Kingston—He grew up the hard way on the rough streets of Baltimore to start a multimillion-dollar information and intelligence company. Having tasted the good life, he’s not ready to let someone take it all away.

  Glenn Harber—Bryce’s promising assistant. He knows everything, has all the answers, but is there more to him than the boss thinks?

  Dan Breckman—A consultant for Bryce’s company. He’s asking questions and appears to be an inside man. Question is: Whose man is he?

  Sean Moore—Kelsey’s brother had a promising career at Kingston, Inc. until privileged information went missing. Now everyone is pointing fingers at him.

  Sanford Moore—Kelsey and Sean’s scam-artist father. He pulled strings to get out of jail, but he’s still on the lookout for a big score, even if it means sacrificing his kids to get it.

  Connor Bowen—The leader of the Corcoran Team. He has some secrets of his own, but his loyalty to his team is absolute.

  To my husband, James, for believing when

  I was ready to give up hope.

  Contents

  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

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Kelsey Moore balanced a tray of croissants and gooey pastries on one arm and counted how many she had left for the end-of-the-morning rush. Ten in the morning was too early to break out the sandwich menu, which meant she had to make the breakfast offerings last for another hour. Hard to do if another round of the fanny pack and matching T-shirt crowd descended.

  Not that she was complaining. The summer season had finally hit full swing in Annapolis, Maryland, as the increased number of buses and lack of on-street parking spaces showed. Tourists poured in to visit the quaint shops, check out that Naval Academy a few blocks over and wander down to the City Dock, also known as Ego Alley thanks to the expensive yachts that pulled up there.

  Her coffee shop, Decadent Brew, sat in a prime location on Main Street, midway between the waterfront and the Maryland State House. She’d love to take credit for having the foresight to buy the two-story slim town house, but that honor went to her aunt, who ran it as a coffee and knitting shop for years.

  Kelsey dropped the yarn part when she inherited it because she could barely sew on a button let alone figure out how to knit or purl. She had added a lunch menu, local art to walls, bookcases and sofas. In a rough economy, the small changes allowed her to survive and build a loyal following over the coffee chains. Not thrive, but pay the bills...usually.

  Using tongs, she loaded up the display case with the last two doughnuts and the rest of the chocolate croissants. About half the tables were full, many with patrons more intent on typing on their laptops than actually eating anything. Still, silverware clanked, and the low rumble of conversation mixed with the pipe
d-in music.

  The steady beat and cheerful mood suited her. She liked to be busy, liked to see the seats filled, but never lost focus. After two years in business she knew how to keep one eye on the college kid making the lattes—this year his name was Mike—and the other on Lindy, the cute new high school senior who spent more time flirting and tugging on her short skirt than cleaning off the tables.

  If Kelsey had a third eye she’d keep it locked on the front door because it was time. He came around this time every day, or he had for the past two weeks.

  He’d walk in, his gaze searching for her. The corner of his mouth would lift in that breath-stealing smile and her stomach would do the stupid bouncing thing that made her feel younger than Lindy. Certainly more like fifteen than twenty-six, which she was.

  As if thinking about him could conjure him up, the bell above the door chimed. Kelsey glanced up to see him holding the door for a family heading outside. He stood a bit over six feet with the kind of broad shoulders that made women look and then turn and look again. Dirty blond hair and eyes she knew from past encounters edged the border between brown and green.

  Between the faded jeans and the trim gray T-shirt, she could easily call up a mental image of his bare stomach without ever having seen it. Something she’d done a little more often than she wanted to admit.

  He nodded a welcome to a table of sixty-something women, who rotated between staring at him and whispering to each other. But he saved the wave and that killer smile for Kelsey.

  Her hand tightened on the tray to keep from dropping it. “Hey there.”

  “Good morning,” he said when he stopped across the counter from her.

  “So far. How are you?”

  The couple off to his left ran through the exact makeup of a caramel macchiato with Mike, which gave her an extra minute with Paxton. An unusual name but she’d remember his even if it were something easily forgettable, like Bob. A long line a few days ago gave her the excuse to ask his name. Owning the place did have its benefits.

  “Not to scare you, but there’s one of those walking tours a few blocks away and headed in this direction.”

  She enjoyed the flirting, but she didn’t ignore business. “Let’s hope they’re thirsty.”

  “In that case I’m happy I’m here first, before it’s standing room only in here.” He leaned against the counter, because that’s what he always did.

  The combination of the slight limp and short hair made her think military, possibly returning from an overseas tour. Living in a navy area tended to take a person’s mind in that direction. Still, he had the muscular build, complete with bulging biceps and a vine tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. Military or not, it amounted to a pretty lethal punch to her usual common-sense theory of not mixing business with pleasure.

  She tried to think of something clever to say. When nothing came to her, she winced over her complete lack of smoothness and set the tray down. “You want the usual?”

  He pointed at the display case. “Add in whatever you have extra of or might have trouble selling today.”

  As if she didn’t already have a crush on the guy.

  She went to the tap at the coffee-of-the-day dispenser as the bell above the door dinged again. One look around the counter and she realized she’d need a trip to the stockroom because there was only one to-go cup left after the one for Paxton.

  A group of kids came in, all shouting as their gazes stayed fixed on their phones. She turned to face the front of the store again to send a quiet-down gaze and spied the two guys hovering behind the noisy kids.

  Black suits, dark scowls and a laserlike focus on...well, her. She immediately thought politicians, but the Maryland General Assembly wasn’t in session. That left lawyers or government types. Either way, something about their intensity had her squirming.

  Paxton cleared his throat. “You okay?”

  Her gaze went back to him. She read concern in his narrowed eyes, heard it in the sudden roughness of his deep voice, and forced a smile to her lips. She hoped it rose to the level of sunny. “Absolutely.”

  She snapped the lid on his coffee and snuck a few more peeks at the suited patrons while she scrambled to get Paxton a bear claw. She pretended not to notice as the suit-wearers closed in a step at a time, never saying a word to each other and not bothering to look at the menu board over her head.

  She put the plate down on the counter harder than expected in front of Paxton. The smack of ceramic against glass had both Mike and Paxton staring at her. Before she could babble out some excuse, Paxton put a hand over hers. Warmth seeped into her skin.

  “Maybe you should sit down.”

  “I’m fine.” And by that she meant spooked. The two guys hadn’t done or said anything, yet their presence had her swallowing and shifting her weight around.

  “We could go out front for second.”

  “Really. It’s okay.” She said the words because she wanted the men out, and the only way to have that was to wait on them. They now stood right behind Paxton’s impressive shoulder, and for some reason she wanted them away from him, too.

  Still, he hesitated. He balanced his coffee and his wallet. “If you’re sure.”

  “Absolutely. And today is on me.” She pushed the plate closer. Before Paxton could argue, she glanced at her unwanted guests. “What can I get the two of you?”

  For a second they held on to their silence. Finally, the taller one on the left blinked. “Black coffee to go.”

  “Two?” When he frowned at her, she tried again. “I mean, do you each want one?”

  Paxton held his position at the counter, and the men didn’t try to shove around him. They didn’t look at him, either, but he stared at them as if he had them under some sort of visual scan.

  “One cup only,” the taller man said.

  Unusual but not scary. She repeated that mantra as she turned back to the coffeepot and the blank space where the last cup sat a second ago. Another look and she watched Mike top off a latte with foam in the cup she wanted.

  She could send him on a restocking run, but with the way her chest tightened she suddenly needed to gulp in as much air as possible. Better to do that away from the patrons. She held up a finger. “I’ll be back in one second.”

  Before the men could argue, she took off. She shuffled around and pushed open the door to the narrow hall behind the main dining area marked Private. She kept moving as she passed the door to her office on the right and the stockroom on the left and finally hit the back entry.

  Two slams against the safety bar and she had it open. The humid air rolled in, giving her the sensation of standing in front of a low-watt hair dryer.

  With her eyes closed she counted to ten and tried to calm her overreaction. This is what happened to her now. Ever since her brother stopped communicating, her mind played vivid and scary games with the benign truth around her. Last night a guy stood on the sidewalk outside her upstairs apartment too long and she immediately assumed he was casing the place. It was as if her life had become a strange action movie.

  When she reached ten in her silent countdown, she let out one final dramatic breath. Time to get back to work.

  Fearing the air-conditioning would never stop running and her electric bill would soar if she kept the door open, she yanked on it, hearing it creak and moan as she tried to slam it shut. The thing weighed a ton, but she wrestled it closed every single day. Not that she had a choice now. Another minute away from the counter and Mike might sit down with his own laptop and play on the internet instead of work.

  She smiled at the idea as she glanced over her shoulder toward the front of the shop. At the end of the hall stood one of the tall unwanted visitors. Seeing him there, in the small space between her and the freedom of the front room wiped out any amusement she’d felt.

  She for
got about locking the door and turned to face the unwanted stranger. She said the first thing—the only thing—that popped into her mind. “You can’t be here.”

  He closed the distance between them in a few steps. If he reached out he could touch her, but his hands remained at his back. “We’ll be leaving by the door behind you.”

  We? Yeah, no way. “Wrong.”

  “I’m not playing.” His arm dropped to his side.

  She blinked at the gun in his hand and a paralyzing fear streaked through her nerves. “I’ll scream.”

  “And put everyone out front in danger? I don’t think so.”

  She turned to race out the back door and it burst open, bouncing with a crash and pinning her against the hallway wall. Unwanted visitor number two filled the entrance. She opened her mouth to let out the scream rumbling around in her chest when the man behind her grabbed her and clamped a hand over her mouth.

  She kicked and threw her elbows. Even tried bending forward in the hope of breaking the guy’s hold.

  He snapped her back into him, almost lifting her off the floor. “One word and we shoot everyone in the shop.”

  When the attacker’s hot breath blew over her cheek, she choked back the bile rising in her throat. Her mind raced as she mentally flipped through her options for saving herself and everyone in her shop.

  Yell, run, fight. The most important thing was to not let these guys drag her away. She knew that much from the safety class she’d taken through the police station. But she had to get somewhere other than a claustrophobic back hallway.

  To stall, she nodded. Instead of easing, the attacker’s arm wrapped tighter against her neck. Muscle pressed against her windpipe. She clawed against his forearm in a futile attempt to keep him from crushing out her air supply.

  The taller one pointed at the back door. “Let’s get her out of here before that kid realizes she’s gone and tries to play hero.”

  Mike.

  Paxton.