EURO QUEST INTELLIGENCE AGENCY MISSION DOCUMENT
Agency location: Prague, Czech Republic
Specialty: Creating femme fatale spies—special women with killer instincts who can take their place in the world of global espionage.
Mission: Uncover the hideout of Holic “the Butcher” Reznik. Seize his future-kills file. Assassinate the assassin.
Recommended agent: Nadja Stefn, age 29, 5'9", brown eyes, blond hair. Code name: Q
Notes: Q’s sexy appearance is an asset for taking a quarry off guard. Her mental acuity and quickness are matched by a surprising tolerance for pain. A former Olympic skiing hopeful, Q spent three years in rehab after an accident that could have left her paralyzed. She recovered almost fully, but cold weather can affect her performance. However, her personal connection to this case—a connection she is not yet aware of—will give her an edge and determination that won’t allow for failure….
Dear Reader,
Silhouette Bombshell is dedicated to bringing you the best in savvy heroines, fast action, high stakes and chilling suspense. We’re raising the bar on action adventure to create an exhilarating reading experience that you’ll remember long after the final pages!
Take some personal time with Personal Enemy by Sylvie Kurtz. An executive bodyguard plans the perfect revenge against the man who helped to destroy her family—but when they’re both attacked, she’s forced to work for him before she can work against him!
Don’t miss Contact by Evelyn Vaughn, the latest adventure in the ATHENA FORCE continuity series. Faith Corbett uses her extrasenory skills to help the police solve crimes, but she’s always contacted them anonymously. Until a serial killer begins hunting psychics, and Faith must reveal herself to one disbelieving detective….
Meet the remarkable women of author Cindy Dees’s The Medusa Project. These Special Forces officers-in-training are set up to fail, but for team leader Vanessa Blake, quitting is not an option—especially when both international security and their tough-as-nails trainer’s life is at stake!
And provocative twists abound in The Spy Wore Red by Wendy Rosnau. Agent Nadja Stefn is hand-picked for a mission to terminate an assassin—but getting her man means working with a partner from whom she must hide a dangerous personal agenda….
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Best wishes,
Natashya Wilson
Associate Senior Editor, Silhouette Bombshell
The Spy Wore Red
Wendy Rosnau
www.millsandboon.co.uk
WENDY ROSNAU
resides on sixty secluded acres in Minnesota with her husband and their two children. She divides her time between her family-owned bookstore and writing romantic suspense.
Her first book, The Long Hot Summer, was a Romantic Times nominee for Best First Series Romance of 2000. Her third book, The Right Side of the Law, was a Romantic Times Top Pick. She received the Midwest Fiction Writers 2001 Rising Star Award.
Wendy loves to hear from her readers. Visit her Web site at www.wendyrosnau.com.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 1
Winter smog hung thick over the city of Prague, as well as a fresh layer of wet snow. Neither, however, could be blamed for Nadja Stefn being late. Twelve minutes, to be exact.
Red wool swirled around her as she dashed up the stone steps to the Vysehrad Museum and through the heavy mosaic front doors. Inside, she kept moving as routine and familiarity took over. She pulled off her black leather gloves, her calf-high boots clicking out a hurried tempo on the slate floor as she made a right down the corridor, then a left.
In a narrow passageway she stopped and faced a slender mirror next to an elevator. Once the retinal scanner identified her, the doors opened and she stepped inside and placed her right hand in the fingerprint recognition mold on the wall. An electronic charge tingled her fingertips. A computerized voice welcomed her by name, then the elevator took off, descending into the underworld beneath the museum.
Polax would be having a hairy cow by now, Nadja thought as she buried her gloves in the outer pocket of her slim black briefcase. He would be cursing her in ten languages for holding up his all-important morning meeting.
Today a Quest agent would be chosen to accompany an NSA Onyxx agent on a mission into Austria.
A milestone mission, Polax promised when he had called her yesterday with the news that she was one of the candidates being considered. He hadn’t offered her any particulars, and none would be shared unless she was the agent packing a bag at the end of the day and flying out of Praha Ruzyne Airport at midnight.
That’s how it worked at Quest: everything was done on a need-to-know basis.
Nadja’s technique set her apart from the other agents at Quest. She was ranked number one among sanctioned assassins—had been for the past four years. Then, too, it was hard to miss at point-blank range when you were straddling your victim.
Though she rarely did handstands to get noticed at Quest, the difference today was that she was eager to be chosen.
A week, or a month—the mission’s term didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding out what had happened to Ruger. Her last three letters had been returned unopened, and his had stopped altogether. She didn’t believe that he had left Austria. He would have told her if he had, and he certainly hadn’t changed professions. No, never. Ruger loved his work, which meant he would still be in residence at Wilten Parish in Innsbruck.
Still, something was wrong and she meant to find out what.
An uninterrupted hour with Father Ruger, that’s all she needed. A soul-searching session with her brother to assure her that all was well—that their secret was safe.
The elevator continued on its way into the underbelly of the Vysehrad Museum. That’s where EURO-Quest had been conducting its secret intelligence operations for the past ten years. Where femmes fatales such as herself were trained to their fullest potential according to their expertise.
She shrugged off her wool cape, and that’s when she saw the fat wrinkle blazing a path across the front of her thighs. How it had gotten there, she had no clue. She studied it for a moment and decided she looked like she’d slept on a bar stool all