Chapter 1

In order to be a true super-agent, a man needed a pair of breasts and a push up bra. Cassandra Naylor zipped up her black jacket as she stepped over the unconscious D.I.R.E. agent lying in the hospital’s fourth floor corridor. Men were such predictable animals. Flash them some perky cleavage and they were distracted like an ADD child at an amusement park.

Slipping off her high heel pumps, Cassandra shoved them into her tote and jogged down the hall barefoot. It hadn’t taken much to hack into the hospital’s computer network and find her father’s name on the patient roster. What had scared the manure out of her was his location: Fourth Floor ICU.

According to the hospital’s map, ICU was on the second floor.

Finding a door marked ICU, Cassandra pushed it open and peeked around the corner. Big, rugged Robert Naylor laid pale and unconscious, a myriad of tubes and wires connected to intimidating machines. An oxygen mask covered his face, a ventilator at his bedside.

Letting the door swish shut behind her, Cassandra stepped over to the bed. Fear knotted in her throat as she took in her father’s lifeless form. His ghostly complexion made him look years beyond his age, the veins under his skin prominent against his pallid flesh.

Taking his limp hand in hers, she squeezed it, hoping to elicit some type of response. Her tears increased with her grip until she held his hand in a white-knuckled hold.

“What happened, Father? Who did this?”

You know who did it. Mitchell Jacobs and his D.I.R.E. Agency.

The hospital records showed a gunshot wound to the chest. Thank God, he’d survived. She couldn’t imagine life without him. He, Dar and Naylor Interests were her life. If he died, her entire world died with him.

Leaning over, Cassandra gave him a feather-light kiss on the forehead. His skin felt cool against her lips, her body heated from the post- midnight excursion into the hospital. She’d never attempted anything like this alone. That had always been Dar’s specialty.

“Where’s Dar, Father?” She stroked back the hair from his forehead. “What have they done with him?”

Her twin could be free, in a local jail, or well on his way to D.I.R.E. Headquarters. Mitchell Jacobs would like nothing more than to interrogate Robert Naylor’s son – then kill him.

The elevator dinged down the hall. She heard male voices, then running footsteps. Guess they found her unconscious agent. She had to get out of there.

Pulling up her blonde waves into a ponytail, Cass shoved her feet into a pair of ballet slippers and donned her glasses. Her father wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. She had to find Dar so they could decide what to do. How would they get her father out of D.I.R.E. custody like this? What should she do about the weapon technology deal that was supposed to take place tomorrow night?

Inadequacy weighed on her shoulders. She’d never been involved in that side of the business. Her father and Dar had purposely kept her away from the danger. Yet, now she found herself in charge and in doubt of what to do next.

Opening the door a slit, she peeked down the hall. Empty.

Opening the door further, she stuck out her head and looked to her right. The body had disappeared, an agent standing in its place. He ran toward her.

Blast.

Bolting out the door, Cassandra ran in the opposite direction. Taking a right at the first crossroad, she sprinted toward the stairwell, heavy male footsteps closing in on her. She hit the exit door and flew down the stairs, her slippers floating over the hard concrete steps.

The door slammed opened behind her. Shit, shit. Strong footsteps followed, gaining more ground than she could ever cover with her size eight feet. He jumped over the handrail and landed behind her.

Cassandra’s heart leapt to her throat. She couldn’t afford to get caught. She had to save her family.

“Stop. I just want to talk to you.”

Sure, you do. With a little water and a towel over my face.

The first floor door came into sight. If she could make it to the ground floor, she could lose him in the bustle of emergency room activity.

The agent grabbed Cassandra’s arm from behind. Electricity shot through her. She convulsed with violent spasms, her body shaking and quivering with wild abandon.

He released her arm. Cassandra collapsed on the landing, her head bouncing off the plaster wall. Pain exploded at the back of her skull as dizziness shrouded her head. Her body hummed with residual power, every nerve-ending charged and sizzling.

He dropped down beside her. She gazed up at him through clouded, lazy eyes. Her heart stopped, any hope for breath lodging in her lungs.

She must’ve died and gone to the hot angel floor of heaven.

Bright, emerald green eyes stared down at her beneath furrowed brows, a lock of dark copper hair falling over his forehead.

“Are you okay?”

Yep. He was an angel all right, with a soft, deep voice that made her body sizzle and her head spin all the more.

His full, gorgeous lips were by far his most appealing feature, although his chiseled, smooth jaw came in a strong second. He even wore intricately carved copper and gold armbands like archangels in paintings of old.

The stories of heaven she’d always heard were way underrated. “You’re beautiful.”

He grinned with a dimpled smile that would render an auctioneer speechless. “I think you hit your head. Can you stand?”

Cassandra frowned. As a matter of fact, her head did hurt. Reaching behind her, she felt around in her hair and found a knot the size of a Ping-Pong ball.

She wasn’t dead?

Damn. That meant this guy worked for D.I.R.E. That just wouldn’t do.

Shutting her eyes, Cass took a mental inventory of her body. Other than limbs like noodles and a nagging headache, she felt okay.

She had to lose him. What a pity.

Mustering strength she would surely beg for later, Cass backed away from him when he tried to help her up. “Don’t touch me.”

Holding up his hands, he unfolded to stand above her. “Sorry about that.”

Glaring up at him, Cass got to her knees. Bracing a hand on the wall, she slowly climbed to her feet - with a swift uppercut to his crotch.

Sonovabitch echoed in the cavernous stairwell as he doubled over.

Cass flung open the first floor door. Running into the busy corridor, she lost her footing.

Shit, shit, shit.

Grabbing a handrail on the wall, she righted herself and took off. Thank God she wore stretch jeans. She had a little crawling to do.