The Spy Who Tamed Me

The Spy Who Tamed Me
Kelly Hunter

‘Your reputation precedes you, Mr West.’After two years undercover, Special Operative Jared West feels like a stranger in his old life. The bruises on his muscle-honed body will fade, but not the memories. Still, he hasn’t lost his appreciation for a beautiful woman; Rowan Farrington is too arresting to be ignored.New Director of Operations, Rowan, has heard Jared’s most dangerous weapon is his sexy smile but it’s her job to see through his bravado. Rowan must get to know Jared intimately to ensure he’s ready for his next mission.But neither are ready for the passion that erupts from the casual touch of a hand…Praise For Kelly HunterWhat the Bride Didn’t Know 4.5* RT Review TOP PICKThis latest edition of the West family saga will lead readers on an emotional journey with a sprinkle of intrigue, unexpected twists and a dash of humor. Hunter excels at building the sexual tension, and the steamy love scenes in exotic locales do not disappoint.The One That Got Away 4.5* RT Review TOP PICKHunter skillfully explores several provocative topics in this intensely steamy story.Cracking the Dating Code 4* RT ReviewCharming characters and witty dialogue will appeal to readers in the mood for a languorous story.

‘Your reputation precedes you, Mr West.’

Her voice came at him gravel-rough, with just enough honey at the edges to keep things interesting. She bent lower; she had to if she wanted to get a good look at his face.

‘You’re not as pretty as I’d been led to expect.’

‘Give me time. Bruises fade.’

Rowan smiled at him then, careless and casual, and that smile …

That smile was a weapon.

‘Mr West, let me drive you up to the house and have a medic take a look at you. My men are taking bets on how many ribs you’ve broken and whether you’ve lost your hearing. Odds are three to one that you’re simply a very good lip-reader.’

‘They just want to look at my lips.’

Jared let them curve and he knew what effect they had—of that she was certain.

‘I get that a lot.’

‘And I’m sure you use it to your best advantage.’ She let her gaze linger, appreciating him, and after a slow count to three she stopped. ‘The fact remains that I’d like someone to take a look at you.’

‘Is that an order?’

‘Do you take them?’

He smiled again. ‘From you, I might.’

KELLY HUNTER has always had a weakness for fairytales, fantasy worlds, and losing herself in a good book. She is married with two children, avoids cooking and cleaning and, despite the best efforts of her family, is no sports fan! Kelly is, however, a keen gardener and has a fondness for roses. Kelly was born in Australia and has travelled extensively. Although she enjoys living and working in different parts of the world, she still calls Australia home.

The Spy who Tamed Me

Kelly Hunter

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

For my wonderful editor, Joanne Grant.

Thanks for your patience.

Table of Contents

Cover (#ufeb4ff4f-7921-5867-9694-82fe53d42866)

Excerpt (#u68391c9d-b33d-5453-b2d8-a8ce4f25ecc2)

About the Author (#u42c7215b-0f26-5e5c-a6cc-90cf2375c68c)

Title Page (#ua79015e1-df51-5f5e-8e70-0cee0c12b57a)

Dedication (#u2700f215-a0fa-56b9-ad0c-7c9a06971c7e)

CHAPTER ONE (#ub1358fb4-5e30-50ef-a1bc-27f3def678e0)

CHAPTER TWO (#u058784ad-06dc-5d70-8f62-f44c932ecc80)

CHAPTER THREE (#u490fad73-1647-54b7-989c-dcf8fe1818f3)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u746337d0-002c-5940-b947-5bfb88a2e09f)

CHAPTER FIVE (#ufeb443c3-91ad-5aca-bf4d-59254d6409c5)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_d6f9f024-0ffa-5511-aa3f-9701d47296fb)

ROWAN FARRINGDON DREADED Sunday dinners with her parents. The tradition was a new one, instated exactly one month after her parents had retired and bought themselves a gleaming glory of a house that has all the showiness of a museum and no warmth whatsoever. Even the floral arrangements were formal.

She’d made a mistake two months ago, when she’d turned up with an armful of scented overblown cream- and butter-coloured roses and had had them relegated to the laundry sink—doubtless to be tossed out at her mother’s earliest convenience.

She hadn’t made that mistake again.

For some reason her mother loved this house, and insisted that Rowan—as her only child and heir—love the house as well.