Gunning for the Groom Read online

  USA TODAY bestselling authors Debra Webb and Regan Black spin off the unforgettable Colby Agency series!

  As a former Interpol agent, private detective Aidan Abbot knows his way around covert operations at the highest levels. But nothing could have prepared him for his latest mission: infilitrating family dynamics. His new client, Francesca “Frankie” Leone, believes her late father, a US Army general, was framed for treason and has heartbreaking reason to suspect her own mother was behind it. Suddenly, Aidan is deep undercover as Frankie’s fiancé, investigating his “future MIL” with unusual dinner-table access. But the closer he gets to the truth, the more Aidan wants to protect the woman he was never supposed to really fall for.

  Plus a bonus short story by USA TODAY bestselling author Delores Fossen

  Aidan had to show Frankie this engagement ploy was a mistake.

  “Are you prepared to be my fiancé?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he replied automatically. “I always go the distance in my investigations.”

  “And in other areas?”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  She closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. Warmth spread from that point of contact down his arms, sizzling in his fingertips as her gaze held him captive. Then her eyelids drifted shut. She pushed her hand into his hair and drew him closer for a full, sensual kiss that blasted through him like a flash grenade.

  She was like a double shot of whiskey with a drop of honey—all fire with a hint of sweetness. He changed the angle, tipping up her chin and taking control of the kiss. When her lips parted on a sigh, he slid his tongue across hers with bold strokes.

  “I think that will convince anyone,” she said.

  It sure as hell convinced him.

  GUNNING FOR

  THE GROOM

  USA TODAY Bestselling Authors

  Debra Webb &

  Regan Black

  Table of Contents

  Gunning For The Groom

  What Happens on the Ranch

  Debra Webb, born in Alabama, wrote her first story at age nine and her first romance at thirteen. It wasn’t until she spent three years working for the military behind the Iron Curtain—and a five-year stint with NASA—that she realized her true calling. Since then the USA TODAY bestselling author has penned more than one hundred novels, including her internationally bestselling Colby Agency series.

  Regan Black, a USA TODAY bestselling author, writes award-winning, action-packed novels featuring kick-butt heroines and the sexy heroes who fall in love with them. Raised in the Midwest and California, she and her family, along with their adopted greyhound, two arrogant cats and a quirky finch, reside in the South Carolina Lowcountry, where the rich blend of legend, romance and history fuels her imagination.

  Books by Debra Webb and Regan Black

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Colby Agency: Family Secrets

  Gunning for the Groom

  The Specialists: Heroes Next Door

  The Hunk Next Door

  Heart of a Hero

  To Honor and To Protect

  Her Undercover Defender

  Visit the Author Profile page at

  Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  GUNNING FOR

  THE GROOM

  Debra Webb &

  Regan Black

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Francesca (Frankie) Leone—The daughter of an army general, Frankie served as a cultural liaison with a navy SEAL team until an injury forced her to retire. Now she’s searching for the truth behind the tragic accusations that led her father to commit suicide.

  Aidan Abbot—Formerly with Interpol, Aidan was added to Victoria Colby-Camp’s team of expert investigators based in the Chicago office. He’s tasked with protecting Frankie as she follows a new lead.

  Sophia Leone—Frankie’s mother, a recent widow, and also the co-owner of Leo Solutions, a security company she and her husband once dreamed of establishing after he retired.

  Paul Sterling—Sophia’s business partner in Leo Solutions, his focus is growth of the company as well as his relationship with Sophia.

  Victoria Colby-Camp—The semiretired head of the Colby Agency. She and her husband, Lucas Camp, can’t seem to stay out of the business of investigations.

  With many thanks to Kim, for your wealth of patience,

  love and priceless friendship!

  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 One

  Chicago, Illinois

  Wednesday, April 6, 5:30 p.m.

  Victoria Colby-Camp rose from her desk and turned to her beloved window. She watched the gentle spring rain falling upon the city she would always call home. Evening lights twinkled, reminding her that it was time to go home. Home. A smile tugged at her lips. How had she considered for even a moment that any other city on earth could take the place of Chicago?

  The most wonderful years of her life, as well as the most painful ones, had played out here. Her son was here, as were her beautiful grandchildren. No matter how warm it was or how much sun south Texas had to offer, it would never be the Windy City.

  Sensing Lucas’s presence, she turned, her smile widening automatically. She had loved this man for so very long. Even when her first husband, James Colby, was alive, Lucas Camp had been her dearest friend. The two of them waited many years before allowing that lifelong bond to bloom into a more intimate relationship. Their wedding day had been one of the happiest of her life—in part because that momentous occasion came almost at the same time that her son found his way back to her. Jim Colby had been missing for twenty years when he came back into her life. So many miracles had happened that year.

  Victoria’s life had come full circle now. Her family was safe and happy and she was back in the city she loved.

  “You’re ready to go?” she asked, when Lucas remained in the doorway.

  “No hurry. I could stand here forever just looking at you.”

  “Lucas, you’re too kind.” Even after all these years as man and wife, she could feel her pulse react to his voice, as well as the compliment. “I’m ready.”

  Tomorrow was another day at the Colby Agency offices and she couldn’t wait to see what it held.

  Chapter Two

  Savannah, Georgia

  Thursday, April 7, 8:05 a.m.

  “Morning, Frankie!”

  Francesca Leone, Frankie to everyone who knew her longer than a few minutes, smiled on her way to the office she shared with two other people. It wasn’t much more than a converted storage space, but she didn’t mind. She’d worked in tighter quarters during her time with the navy. Life in Georgia had been good to her. Landing this job as an analyst with the Savannah Police Department gave her a healthy, long overdue sense of renewed purpose.

  The past eighteen months had been an arduous journey person
ally and professionally. An act of terrorism and the resulting injury had ended the navy career she’d loved. For too many months, her life had narrowed to a pinpoint focus on surviving the physical trials, only to be assaulted by the emotional upheaval that followed. She hadn’t realized how much of her identity had been tied to her military service until it was gone. But here she’d found a fresh start and was building a strong new foundation, far from the looming shadow of her father’s name and the constant worried gaze of her mother.

  Feeling her back aching a bit from yesterday’s extended run, she eased into the desk chair, setting her mug of tea to the left of her computer monitor and locking her purse in the bottom drawer. When her computer booted up, she wasted no time getting to work. A string of recent robberies crossed several precincts, and it was her job to find any connections to help the detectives create a list of suspect traits.

  Although the work didn’t rank as high in the elements of danger and thrill as her former SEAL team missions, she found tremendous fulfillment when her contributions helped close cases.

  She was making notes on the similarities between thefts when her desk phone rang, and she picked it up. “Leone.”

  “Francesca Leone?”

  She didn’t recognize the quiet male voice on the other end of the line. “Yes.” Pausing to glance around when someone called her by her proper name was a purely instinctive reaction. “How can I help you?”

  “I worked with your dad on several operations,” the man explained.

  Her heart stuttered in her chest. It never seemed to beat properly when the topic of her dad came up. She bit her lip, refusing to deliver the coarse response on the tip of her tongue.

  “I considered him a friend,” the caller said into the prolonged silence.

  And yet she noticed he didn’t offer her a name. She wasn’t an idiot. Since her father, General Frank Leone, had been accused and convicted of treason, no one claimed any kind of link to him. This couldn’t be an old friend who’d lost touch or wanted to leave the general’s daughter with a memorable photo.

  Smelling a setup, she decided the caller must be a reporter sniffing out a new story angle. Unfortunately for him, there weren’t any. It had been over a year since the verdict, and her review of every available shred of information had yet to yield any solid intel that could remove the terrible stain on her dad’s career. “What do you want?”

  “First, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Her hand fisted around the receiver, but she didn’t take the bait. Her father had killed himself ten months ago, shortly after the verdict came down. While she wasn’t over it, she never let that weakness show—to strangers or friends.

  “I just need a few minutes of your time,” the caller said. “Your father trusted me with something you should have.”

  Curious now, she checked the urge to slam down the phone. “All right.” A face-to-face chat was the fastest way to determine if there was anything legitimate about this guy. “And your name?”

  “When we meet,” he replied.

  She’d anticipated that response. Odds were he wouldn’t have given her a real name, anyway. “How will I know you?”

  “I’ll know you.”

  Of course he would. Growing up on various army bases around the world with two parents who rated the highest possible security clearances, Frankie valued caution and understood paranoia. “Fine. Meet me at Bess’s Diner in the historic district in an hour.” That would give her plenty of time to drive by and get her head on straight.

  Fifty minutes later she sat in her car, studying a man leaning against a bike rack in front of the diner across the street. Short, graying brown hair; late forties, early fifties maybe. Assuming he was the caller, she was pleased he didn’t give off the hum of urgency she’d learned to expect from reporters. While nothing about him struck her as familiar, in her experience the best covert agents were comfortable hiding in plain sight. As she climbed out of her car, she inconspicuously snapped a couple of pictures with her phone. If the man really knew her dad, he’d know about her mother’s work, and her own abbreviated career, as well.

  Or maybe this wasn’t the guy at all, she thought when he didn’t react as she crossed to his side of the street. She didn’t acknowledge him as she aimed for the diner door.

  “Miss Leone.” His voice proved she had a few instincts left. “Thanks for following through.”

  “Sure.” She stopped, kept her stance easy and her hands loose at her sides while she waited for him to make the next move.

  “Name’s John,” he said, extending a hand. “Your father was a good friend of mine.”

  John. She nearly asked if the last name was Smith or Doe. Not that it mattered. Anyone openly admitting to being General Leone’s friend had bigger secrets than a name. She suddenly wished she had something more to go on than his pictures in case she needed to track him down after this meeting. His was one of those nondescript faces that would be hard to remember. This close, she could see that his eyes were brown, as well. Straight nose. No scars. The kind of face that would blend in with the crowd.

  They walked into the diner and found a booth. She noticed he took the side facing the door. If this guy didn’t have covert operations training, he’d read all the right books. When the waitress approached, John ordered coffee and Frankie ordered hot tea with honey. She wasn’t in the mood for anything, just wanted something to keep her hands busy while she listened to whatever John had to say.

  “Your dad and I go way back,” he said. “I count Frank and Sophia as my closest friends.”

  Frankie couldn’t hide the unpleasant chill she felt at the mention of her mother’s name. She hadn’t spoken to the woman since her father’s funeral. The once proud and strong Leone family had been fractured beyond any hope of reconciliation.

  “You still on the outs with her?”

  “Why does it matter?” Keeping things compartmentalized was practically a Leone genetic trait. Frankie’s personal life didn’t intersect with her professional life. She never discussed her parents with anyone. Clearly, this man knew the family dynamic, though the situation was fairly obvious. Her mother lived and worked in Seattle, while Frankie lived and worked here, as far away as possible. She still periodically checked for jobs in Key West, Florida. There were questions she knew she’d never get answered, so Frankie clung to the simple truth that distance preserved the peace.

  “It doesn’t.” John leaned back as the coffee and tea arrived. When the waitress walked away, he continued. “Look, I know you were close to him and I know he was proud of your career.”

  “Thanks?” His well-informed statements didn’t put her at ease. They only made her more uncomfortable. She stirred a spoonful of honey into her tea and went on the offensive, eager to hurry this along. “Any decent search of the internet could give you that much,” she said. “When I was first attached to the SEAL team, they did a write-up in the local paper, got a glowing quote from him.” She set the spoon aside. “Tell me why we’re here.”

  The man’s brown eyes were sharp as he studied her. “Because your father was a hero and someone turned him into a scapegoat.”

  Whatever his real name, she agreed with John on that much. Her biggest regret was that she hadn’t been there for her dad during the ordeal. Injured or not, she resented that she’d never had a chance to tell him she believed he was innocent, or that she loved him despite the stones thrown from all sides. There hadn’t been any tender farewell phone call or last words in a note. When her father made a decision, he followed through. He’d killed himself shortly after the guilty verdict, before she’d regained her ability to walk unassisted.

  The memories of hearing the news swamped her and she raised her tea to her lips, the cup shaking slightly. Sophia, with no trace of emotion, had explained her husband’s suicide and told Frankie what would come next regardi
ng services, the will and estate, and the rest of it. In the days immediately following the tragedy, Frankie had tried to talk to her, hoping to make sense of the senseless. Her mother had been too wrapped up in the legalities and had quickly moved on as though a lifetime of marriage and family had meant nothing.

  “He’d be happy to see you strong and healthy again.”

  John’s quiet voice brought Frankie back to the present with an unpleasant jolt.

  “I like to think so.” She carefully placed the cup in the saucer.

  “You’ve done well reestablishing yourself.”

  “Uh-huh.” She toyed with the handle of her cup. “You said you had something for me?” She didn’t want to talk about her father or her new life. Not with a therapist, not with a friend, and definitely not with a stranger.

  “Yes.” He reached into the pocket inside his sport coat and fished out a small gray envelope. “This matches a safe-deposit box in Tucson,” he explained, his voice no more than a whisper. With one finger he pushed the envelope, which presumably held a key, halfway across the table. “No one mattered to your dad as much as you did. He can’t tell you in his own words, but the answers you’re after are there.”

  Answers. Frankie blinked away the rush of tears blurring her vision. She’d expected dog tags, or maybe her dad’s class ring from West Point. Answers were a thousand times better. She hadn’t been prepared for someone who believed her father had been railroaded, and wanted to help her ferret out the truth. She caught her trembling lower lip between her teeth and fought valiantly for composure. There would be time for emotions later. “How do you know what answers I’m after?” she asked, using his phrase. “Dad’s case is closed.” It was hard to believe this could be the break she needed to clear her father’s name.

  John left the envelope on the table, pulling his fingers back and drumming them on the rim of his coffee cup, watching her closely. “The case is officially closed, but it’s nowhere near done for you. You take that and you’ll have a chance to right a wrong.”