Hard To Handle
Hunter\Man In Control
The silver-haired man across the desk had both hands clasped together on its surface, and his blue eyes were narrow and determined.
Hunter wanted to argue. He'd protested assignments before, and Eugene Ritter had backed down. This time the old man wouldn't. Hunter sensed Ritter's determination before he even tried to get out of the job.
That didn't stop him, of course. Phillip Hunter was used to con-frontation. As chief of internal security for Ritter Oil Corpora-tion for the past ten years, he'd become quite accustomed to facing off against all manner of opponents, from would-be thieves to enemy agents who tried to get the jump on Ritter's strategic metal discoveries.
"The desert is no place for a woman," he told the old man. He sat back comfortably in the straight-backed chair, looking as for-midable as his Apache ancestors. He was very dark, with jet-black hair conventionally cut, and eyes almost black in a lean, thin-lipped face. He was tall, too, and muscular. Even his perfectly of exercise. Hunter was ex-Green Beret, ex-mercenary, and for a short time he'd even worked for the CIA. He was an expert ... read full excerpt from Hard to Handle ebook
