The Secretary Gets Her Man

Joe knew the exact moment that Penny came through the doors of the police station. He couldn’t see her yet, but he heard the buzz, felt a slight shift in atmosphere, as though everyone had come to attention.

Because she intrigued him—and because she was so closemouthed about her life these past years—he’d done a simple background check on her. He hadn’t intended to. A few taps on the computer keys and he’d found himself typing in Penny’s name.

He’d been stunned to find no trace of her. It was as though she didn’t exist—had never existed.

Whatever work she actually did had to be highly classified, and most likely dangerous, if someone had gone to the trouble to remove her identity from every computer data bank he’d known to access.

At that moment, she turned and met his gaze.

His heart actually thumped behind his breastbone. A pure shot of adrenaline turned his knees to jelly—much the same feeling as facing the business end of a gun in a dark alley….

Dear Reader,

Happy New Year! May this year bring you happiness, good health and all that you wish for. And at Harlequin American Romance, we’re hoping to provide you with a year full of heartwarming books that you won’t be able to resist.

Leading the month is The Secretary Gets Her Man by Mindy Neff, Harlequin American Romance’s spin-off to Harlequin Intrigue’s TEXAS CONFIDENTIAL continuity series. This exciting story focuses on the covert operation’s much-mentioned wallflower secretary, Penny Archer.

Muriel Jensen’s Father Formula continues her successful WHO’S THE DADDY? series about three identical sisters who cause three handsome bachelors no end of trouble when they discover one woman is about to become a mother. Next, after opening an heirloom hope chest, a bride-to-be suddenly cancels her wedding and starts having intimate dreams about a handsome stranger, in Have Gown, Need Groom. This is the first book of Rita Herron’s new miniseries THE HARTWELL HOPE CHESTS. And Debbi Rawlins tells the emotional story of a reclusive rancher who opens his home—and his heart—to a lovely single mother, in Loving a Lonesome Cowboy.

In February, look for another installment in the RETURN TO TYLER series with Prescription for Seduction by Darlene Scalera.

Wishing you happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance

The Secretary Gets Her Man

Mindy Neff

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is for Nancy Dayton and Jim Jones—river neighbors, and friends. You guys are the greatest.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Originally from Louisiana, Mindy Neff settled in Southern California, where she married a really romantic guy and raised five great kids. Family, friends, writing and reading are her passions. When not writing, Mindy’s ideal getaway is a good book, hot sunshine and a chair at the river’s edge with water lapping at her toes.

Mindy loves to hear from readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 2704-262, Huntington Beach, CA 92647.

Books by Mindy Neff

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

644—A FAMILY MAN

663—ADAM’S KISS

679—THE BAD BOY NEXT DOOR

711—THEY’RE THE ONE!*

739—A BACHELOR FOR THE BRIDE

759—THE COWBOY IS A DADDY

769—SUDDENLY A DADDY

795—THE VIRGIN & HER BODYGUARD*

800—THE PLAYBOY & THE MOMMY*

809—A PREGNANCY AND A PROPOSAL

830—THE RANCHER’S MAIL-ORDER BRIDE†

834—THE PLAYBOY’S OWN MISS PRIM†

838—THE HORSEMAN’S CONVENIENT WIFE†

857—THE SECRETARY GETS HER MAN

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

Penny Archer stepped a little harder on the throttle of her sleek black Cadillac as the headlights caught the reflective road sign announcing Darby, Texas five miles ahead.

Along the gravel shoulder of the road, a deer paused, eyes shining bright in the flash of headlights. Penny eased up on the gas. She’d been traveling for close to six hours and it wouldn’t do to play a game of chicken with the wildlife. From past experience, she knew the Caddie would end up on the losing end of the deal if it came down to a collision.

And it would only set her back time-wise. In and out, she promised herself. She’d get her grandmother’s affairs in order, sell the house, touch base with a couple of her high school friends, then get the heck out of Dodge—or Darby, rather.

She wondered if she’d subconsciously chosen the cover of darkness to return to her hometown that she’d only visited twice in the past twelve years.

Memories rolled over her—some painful, some embarrassing and some that were gentle, warm and irreplaceable.

She felt bad that she hadn’t been here for her grandmother’s funeral. Agnes Archer had been a pistol of a woman, tough to get along with, bitter, but nobody deserved to die and be buried alone. If it hadn’t been for the latest case the Texas Confidential unit had been working on, Penny would have come. But she’d been tied up and the funeral had taken place without her.

Uncharacteristically, Penny flipped down the visor and checked her appearance in the lighted mirror as she turned onto Main Street. The image staring back at her gave her a momentary jolt. An hour back, when she’d stopped for gas, she’d impulsively exchanged her stylish, wire-rimmed glasses for a pair of contact lenses. Vanity wasn’t normally part of her makeup, but some devil had urged Penny to take off the glasses, to play up her assets, to show off the good bone structure she’d enhanced with a few cosmetics.

Annoyed with herself, she flipped the visor back in place. It was as dark as sin out, for heaven’s sake. The sidewalks in town had been rolled up by five no doubt and it was after eleven now. Not another soul was on the road. Who did she expect to see? Or impress?

An image of a boy with dark hair, broad shoulders and gentle brown eyes flashed like a strobe in her brain and she immediately cut it off. Her life was on a different course now and there wasn’t room for foolish fantasies.

For the past twelve years, Penny had been working as Mitchell Forbes’s executive assistant in the highly secretive Texas Confidential organization. She knew the cases and the agents better than anyone. And although her position with Texas Confidential was important and fulfilling, lately Penny had yearned for more. She hadn’t quite been able to put her finger on what that “more” was until she’d single-handedly apprehended a band of cattle rustlers who’d been plaguing the Smoking Barrel ranch—Texas Confidential headquarters—for months. The adrenaline rush, the sense of accomplishment and the recognition and praise she’d gotten from her friends and colleagues had given her the courage to tell Mitchell that she wanted a more active role in the agency.

She wanted to be an agent.

Mitchell had agreed, and by this time next month, she would begin her training. But first she had to take care of her grandmother’s estate.

And perhaps, to a certain degree, Penny needed to face up to her past before she could actually move on. Where that thought came from, she had no idea. And it made her more than a little uncomfortable.

Through the Cadillac’s heavily tinted windows, she gazed out at the dark storefronts where shadowy mannequins posing in the boutiques seemed to follow the progress of her car as she passed. The crazy thought had Penny laughing out loud. She’d obviously been hanging around secret agents too long—needed a vacation more than she’d realized. She was starting to see menace in plastic dummies in store windows.

A banner stretching across the street from opposite light poles announced the coming of the Fourth of July parade. Three weeks away. Where had the year gone already?

Leaving the quiet streets of town, she wound her way through a tree-lined residential area and turned into the driveway of her grandmother’s wood-and-brick house. Two strips of concrete represented the driveway. Untended grass growing along the center of the drive brushed the Cadillac’s undercarriage. Behind the house, the detached garage loomed like a big old barn—with a padlock threaded through the hinge. Evidently, Grandma hadn’t gotten around to installing the automatic garage door opener Penny had sent.

When she shut off the engine, silence pressed in on her. She was used to living on an isolated ranch, listening to the sounds of animals and insects and nature. She was used to being alone—or at least single. Tonight the quiet unnerved her.

She reached for her purse and got out of the car, digging through the bag as she went up the back porch steps. When her fingers didn’t touch the set of keys she was certain she’d put there, she used a pen-light to search the interior of the leather pocketbook, then ended up dumping the contents on the porch.

Great. She’d forgotten the darn keys the attorney had mailed to her. That wasn’t like her. She was efficient to a fault—she had to be to run a highly secretive agency like Texas Confidential. Well, not exactly run it, but close to it. She was their right-hand woman—albeit behind the scenes. But all that was about to change.

Running her hands above the door and along the sides of the shutters, she searched for a spare key, knowing she wasn’t likely to find one. Agnes Archer had been a private, paranoid woman. In a town where most people never locked their doors, Agnes had installed double dead bolts. She wouldn’t have set out a spare key for some criminal to find.

Penny often wondered why her grandmother had been so fixated on criminals to begin with.

Unable to jimmy the windows that had been virtually painted shut over the years, Penny knew the only way she was going to get in and get any rest was to break a window. Going back to the car, she retrieved her tire iron and a blanket she kept in the trunk for emergencies.

Although she was prepared for the sound, she cringed as shattering glass rained inside against the pinewood floor. Wrapping her hand and arm in the blanket, she cleared the jagged edges away, then climbed through the opening onto the service porch.

Agnes had been gone for over two weeks now, but the clean, familiar scent of starch still lingered. The narrow beam of her flashlight passed over the ironing board sitting in the corner, the iron resting face down amid a rusty brown water stain.

Entering the kitchen, Penny slapped at the light switch, distressed when the power didn’t come on. She was tired, her nerves rawer than she’d anticipated and she wasn’t in the mood to stumble around in a dark house that evoked more emotions than she cared to feel.

Hoping it was just a burned-out bulb, she went into the living room and tried the lamp, knocking her shin against the end table and barely suppressing a curse.

When that light didn’t come on either, she tried to recall where the circuit breaker panel was.

“Hold it right there.”

Fear, primal and burning, stole her breath and shot through her blood with a dizzying jolt. For a fleeting, hysterical instant, her thought was that this was the wrong reaction for a government agent to have. Never mind that she wasn’t a full-fledged agent yet. She should be deadly calm, ready to act and react.

Belatedly, though no more than a second could have passed, Penny whirled around, simultaneously shutting off the pitifully weak beam of the flashlight so as not to make herself a target. Her eyes not yet adjusted to the inky blackness, she crouched and reached for the gun in her purse. But before she could even register that her pocketbook wasn’t hanging at her side, a shoulder slammed into her midsection and she went down hard, her hip jarring against the unyielding hardwood floor.

Finesse gave way to sheer terror and self-preservation as she squirmed and kicked and jabbed. “You son of a—”

“Wait! Hold it…”

“Not a chance, buddy.” She arched beneath her assailant. Unable to get good enough leverage to throw a decent punch, she started to bring her knee up.

“Hold on, wildcat…damn it…Penny, it’s me.”

He didn’t have to identify who “me” was.

Memories flashed.

That voice. A voice she hadn’t heard in sixteen years.

The voice of the only man she’d ever truly loved—or thought she’d loved—a man who’d made a fool out of her and broke her heart, a man who’d proved what her grandmother had spent nearly a lifetime drumming into Penny’s head. That men were no good and not to be trusted with your heart.

Joe Colter.

Flat on her back, Penny hesitated in her wild struggle and it was distraction enough for Joe to get the upper hand. He manacled her wrists in one of his hands and jerked her arms above her head. With his free hand, he shined a flashlight in her eyes.

Penny was alternately stunned, confused and spitting mad. She bucked against him. “Damn it, get the hell off me.”

From the flashlight’s beam, she saw him grin. It wasn’t fair that one man could be so handsome. Deep creases bracketed his mouth and fanned out beside his eyes.

“Not a chance.” The repeat of her words seemed deliberate.

She went slack, her chest heaving with every breath she took, a combination of exertion, fear and much, much more. The weight of his body was beginning to arouse rather than restrain.

“Darby’s welcoming committee, I presume?” she finally asked, annoyed by the breathy hitch in her voice.

His grin kicked up another notch. “Something like that. Although we’re usually more mannerly.”

“I should hope so. You’ll chase away the tourists.” She took a steadying breath. “It’s been a long time, Joe.”

“So you do recognize me.”

She stiffened imperceptibly, then deliberately made herself relax. The last time they’d been together, they’d been in a very similar position. With him on top. And soon after that, she’d knocked the hell out of him with a right punch and walked out of his life.

“I recognize you. What are you doing skulking around my grandmother’s house?”

“Protecting and serving.”

“Good way to get yourself shot.”

“Likewise—though I might point out that I’m still armed and you appear to be, uh, at a disadvantage, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Right now, I’m too tired to mind much. But I’ll assure you, I’m only at a disadvantage because I’m allowing it.”

His palm smoothed over her shoulder and down her arm, gently squeezing her biceps. She knew what he was feeling and resisted the urge to flex those muscles. Sleekly feminine, there was still power beneath that flesh. And the touch of Joe’s hand was making it difficult to breathe.

“You’re not gonna hit me if I let go, are you?”

Her lips curved. “Take a chance.” When he released her wrists, her palm came up to rest on his chest, her fingers tracing the badge pinned there. “A lawman. I wouldn’t have pictured it.”

Joe rolled off her and reached for his hat that had been knocked off in the struggle. “Mmm, and you a secret agent. I wouldn’t have pictured it.”

“Who told you I was a secret agent?” She accepted the hand he held out and let him help her up.

“Your grandmother liked to brag. I’m sorry about her death, by the way.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for the funeral.” Standing, she let go of his hand and rubbed at her hip, knowing she’d have a bruise. “I was out of town and by the time Kelly tracked me down, the funeral was over.” Kelly Robertson had been Penny’s high school friend and source of sporadic hometown information over the years.

Kelly had neglected to tell her that Joe Colter was still in town.

The last she’d heard, Joe had married and moved away. After gleaning that bit of information, Penny hadn’t asked about him again.

It had hurt too much.

“Yeah. That’s what she said.” His tone was deep and gentle with compassion.

“You talked to Kelly about me?”

“Sure. Darby’s still a small town.”

Penny told herself she wouldn’t cringe. Living in this small town—this gossipy small town—had caused the single most excruciating embarrassment in her life.

The moment when she’d realized that everyone but her knew that Joe Colter, the most popular jock in school, had seduced brainy Penny Archer on a bet.

And by God, she wasn’t going to get caught up in all the old insecurities. It had been sixteen years. In the beginning, she’d convinced herself she hated him. She had to admit now that she didn’t. The feelings were just as strong as they’d been the day after graduation.

And that scared her. Because it made her vulnerable. She hadn’t thought of herself as vulnerable in a very long time.

“You okay?”

She clenched her fist and snapped her attention back to Joe. Or what she could see of him. “I’m fine. I’d be better with some light. Mind if I borrow your flashlight to find the breaker box?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Suit yourself. I think the panel’s on the service porch. Careful of the glass.”

She heard his boots scuff against the floor as he moved back through the kitchen, then heard the crunch of glass and the squeak of rusty hinges a second before the lights came on.

Turning in a circle, she glanced at the furniture—some pieces she remembered and some she didn’t. There were changes here, but there was also familiarity.

She’d spent hours of her childhood in this room, yet scarcely a day of her adulthood. And that made her sad.

She looked up and saw Joe leaning against the doorjamb, watching her. He wore jeans and boots, a crisp tan uniform shirt with a badge pinned to his chest pocket and a tan Stetson hat.

A Texas lawman. Casual. Yet dangerous. He radiated welcome and power. And just the sight of him made her giddy.

The man was entirely too good-looking. Always had been.

She cleared her suddenly dry throat. “We both know how I got in the house. How did you get in?”

“Actually, I have a key. Got it from Reilly after Agnes passed away.”

“The attorney. Is it just a coincidence, or is he the same Russ Reilly who played running back at Darby High?”

“The same. I’d have thought a woman with your connections would have checked out strange men sending you keys in the mail.”

She arched a brow, feeling on more solid ground. She knew he was wondering about her and it felt good to be thought of as a woman of mystery. In school, she’d been brainy Archer, nobody special, someone who pretty much blended into the woodwork. Oh, she’d had plenty of friends—but few in the “in crowd”…except for Joe Colter. And courting that relationship had been a painful, lesson-learning mistake she would not repeat.

“Sounds like you’re fishing for information, Colter.”

“Maybe I am. All in the name of law enforcement, you understand.”

She grinned, liking the feeling of keeping him off balance. She didn’t normally play games with men. But then, she didn’t normally come within touching distance of Joe Colter, either. “Then you’ll understand about confidentiality.”

“Mmm. What about professional courtesy?”

“I wasn’t aware that we were on a case.”

His gaze was very direct. “We could be.”

Penny shivered. She didn’t know when the conversation had taken such a turn, but she’d lost the thread. And had no idea what they were talking about or around, or what the innuendoes meant. She only knew that if she didn’t get a grip, she was going to do something stupid. Like walk right into Joe Colter’s arms and beg him to give her a refresher course on the feel of his lips against hers.

Or worse yet, to give him a refresher course, to show him exactly what he’d thrown away sixteen years ago, what he’d missed.

She took a breath, needed a distraction. “So…I heard you got married.”

His nod was barely there, his gaze watchful. “Divorced four years ago.”

A warm flush washed over her. “I hadn’t heard that.” Thinking he was married had been a buffer. Now that buffer was gone. And he was standing in front of her looking at her as though she was dinner. Oh, man. “Do you have children?”

He shook his head. “Wanted them. She didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

The hint of yearning in his tone connected with something inside Penny. Something she wasn’t aware of and didn’t understand. She shook off the odd tug.

“I’m surprised you stayed in Darby. I’d pictured you as a professional jock or corporate shark or something.”

“I tried my hand at being an attorney and hated it. My heart’s always been on the ranch.”

“That uniform shirt and badge puts me more in mind of a police officer than a cowboy—though the hat and boots beg a question.”

He grinned and tipped his hat. “Police chief of Darby at your service. The mayor talked me into it. I divide my time between the ranch and town.”

“Busy man.”

“Makes me happy. You look really good, Pen.”

Penny resisted the urge to fuss with her hair and clothes. She did, however, stand a little taller. His gaze touched on her breasts, caressed everywhere they traveled.

Her gray T-shirt was snug, tucked into black jeans. She prided herself on being in shape, lifted weights and jogged to stay that way. Working in an environment with a bunch of men—highly trained agents—Penny felt the need to keep up, to maintain a lean, honed, healthy body. Now it was second nature to her. She liked looking good, knowing that even if she was wearing sensible, no-nonsense clothes, the body beneath was trim and toned and in good working order.

And seeing the appreciation in Joe Colter’s eyes made her glad that she kept up.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself, Colter.” She moved past him and went into the kitchen. “You on duty or would you like to stay for a cup of coffee?” Bad move, Archer. But hospitality was ingrained in her.

“Actually, I’m off. One of the men was out sick so I worked a double shift and was on my way home when I saw your black Caddie pull into Agnes’s driveway. I didn’t know it was you.”

“And now you do.”

“And very glad of it.”

His tone of voice made her shiver. She was not going to succumb to Joe Colter’s charm. Giving the contents of the fridge a quick perusal, she said, “There’s a can of decaf in here. Yes or no?”

“Sounds good.” He hooked a boot around the rung of the kitchen chair, pulled it away from the table and sat.

Penny tried not to notice the breadth of his shoulders, or the way his presence filled the room. She tried not to remember how he’d looked sixteen years ago, sitting at this same kitchen table, algebra and English books spread in front of him, his dark brows endearingly drawn together in a frown of concentration. Back then, he’d still been big and masculine, but youth, she noticed, had given way nicely to maturity. Now, his presence felt totally different, dangerous somehow.

She was being ridiculous. She’d been living on a ranch with men for years, worked with men. Granted, recently there had been changes at the Smoking Barrel. Four of the agents had traded in their bachelorhood for happy marriage and family.