Dixie Under Siege (A Warrior's Passion Book 2)

by Natasza Waters

  “Any ideas why?”

  “Because of me,” Josh stated. “I doubt he knows our connection but by watching Dix, he’s seen me come into the Erotic Bean. Dix and I grew up together in Utah. We were neighbors. Both of our families own ranches.”

  The detective nodded while scribbling some notes on his pad. “To a predator, it doesn’t matter whether a male is a friend or romantic interest. He’ll see both as interference.”

  Josh nodded. “He already left me one of his love letters on the windshield of my truck, warning me to stay away from her. So I’ve got his attention.”

  “Hmm. I’d like to see that note and the others. Lt. Manchester said he’s doing you a favor by checking for trace evidence, then he’ll send the notes and the knife to us.” Det. Dean clicked the top of the pen and poised it over the writing pad. “In stalking cases, we check the men closest to you first, Miss Hammond. Acquaintances, co-workers, and ex-boyfriends. Ninety-five percent of the time, that’s where we find the stalker. The lieutenant read me some of the notes and I agree, this individual is most likely a sexual predator.”

  Josh slid a USB and the image of the ring from her shop’s security system toward the detective. “This is video from the Erotic Bean taken this morning. I believe this is Dixie’s stalker. We used our equipment to isolate a ring on his hand.”

  Dean slid the USB and picture to his side of the table. “Thank you. Why do you think it’s her stalker?”

  “His movements,” Josh answered. “He kept his face down, wore a ball cap, disappeared into the book aisle for a few seconds then quickly departed the shop.”

  “Do you recognize him?” the detective asked Dixie.

  “I haven’t seen it.”

  Dean pulled out his cell and tapped out a text, then set the phone aside.

  She wasn’t doing much of the talking with her concerned sidekick. All of sudden Josh was someone she didn’t know.

  Josh stared at the detective. “A woman by the name of Sabrina works for Dixie. She described him as good-looking with dark eyes and she’s willing to work with a police sketch artist.”

  The detective nodded and scribbled on his pad once again. “We’ll do that.” He smiled briefly at her. “All right, let’s start from when you left home for college.”

  Halfway through the conversation there was a light tap on the door and a police woman entered with a laptop. Dean nodded at her, and she placed the portable computer on the conference room table, then left the room.

  Dixie spent a good forty-five minutes telling the detective the same tale she’d told every other officer for the past twelve years. He stopped her many times to ask secondary questions, sometimes even tertiary. She ended her narration by explaining what happened to the neighbor’s cat.

  The detective dropped the pen on his pad of paper, opened the laptop and inserted the USB. Together, they watched the video.

  The guy looked like a thousand others. Nothing stood out. Not even the ring. Dean queried her, but she didn’t remember anyone wearing the fraternity ring and Dix certainly hadn’t gone to an Ivy League college.

  Dean gave his business card to Josh and one to her. “I’m going to open a file, and I need some time to setup a data search. In the meantime, we’ll bring in your employee to work with an artist sometime this week. It’s just a hunch, but based on the profile of sexual predators, we know they often act out on their fantasies with other women, even though you are the focus of his attraction.”

  Josh had remained relatively quiet while she’d given Dean her history. Like a massive rock of confidence sitting beside her, he gave her hope that this all might end.

  “Thanks for your time, Det. Dean,” she said, standing up.

  The police detective’s eyes narrowed. “CDR Hunter has given us a head start with the video and investigating the ring. Predators will often take the opportunity to get close. They’ll track a woman. Stand behind her in a line. Sit behind her in a coffee shop. In this case, you own the coffee shop and with the notes left in your business, we know he’s placed himself near you. I’m going to ask a couple of our detectives to venture to the Erotic Bean. You won’t know who they are, but they’ll be around.”

  Josh rose and placed his thick arm around her shoulder. “One of my tactical analysts suggested that the ring could be a ruse. If he knows what I do for a living, he may suspect I’ll involve myself and use assets at my disposal.”

  Dean nodded. “True. A psychopath’s narcissism gives them a feeling of superiority. He may not wear the ring all the time, but did so knowing the security video would record the details. Although he hid his face, he knows full well the ring is visible and in his disjointed way wants to give Dixie a message.”

  She shrugged. “What message?”

  “That he’s intelligent. Highly educated. Possibly wealthy. It’s subliminal manipulation. He wants to lure you closer. Psychopaths often know law enforcement processes. He’s taking a chance by revealing the ring, yet he feels it’s worth the risk, knowing he can share something about himself with you.”

  Dix shook her head. “He’s one sick bastard, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, he is.”

  She no longer saw her ex-fiancé as a cocky teenager but a capable man. A Special Forces warrior. A decorated officer. “Will he try to hurt Josh first?”

  “Let’s go, Dix,” Josh said, trying to usher her out of the room.

  “No.” She resisted and stood her ground. She wanted to hear what he had to say. “Detective?”

  Det. Dean rubbed the tip of his nose and sighed. “Yes, Miss Hammond, that’s most likely the case. But I wouldn’t worry. CDR Hunter is a combat veteran and highly trained Navy SEAL. He has the skills to protect himself.”

  The detective escorted them from the office and to the front lobby of the police station where he said he’d be in touch when he had some results.

  ****

  Back in Josh’s pickup, he started the engine.

  “Can you drop me off at my shop, please?” As he backed out of their spot, she kept her attention on the cars in the parking lot.

  Josh stepped on the brake. The seatbelt held her in place but her head bobbed forward.

  “Let’s get dinner in town,” he suggested.

  She watched a couple patrol cars drive into the small lot. “I’m not hungry. Please, drop me off at the Erotic Bean.”

  When Josh’s rough fingers gripped her forearm, she refused to look at him, her gaze on anything but him.

  “Then let’s go find you a home security system. We’ve got plenty of time before the stores close,” he said. “We’ll get dinner later.”

  Her pulse raced since hearing the detective confirm the stalker would target Josh. “Please, drop me off at my shop.”

  He squeezed her arm. “For the love of Christ, look at me.”

  She shook her head.

  Josh, being a stubborn man, thrust the gear shift into drive, pulled ahead a few feet and shoved the shifter into park. Then he turned off the engine. The Erotic Bean was under a mile away. Guess she could use a walk.

  “I’ll see you, Josh.” She tugged on the door handle. Locked. “Open the door,” she said calmly. He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers and ignored her request. “Did you hear me?” Of course, he’d heard her. “Josh! Open…the…fucking…door.”

  Dix unclipped her seat belt and swiveled, resting her left knee on the seat and stretching over his lap. About to hit the lock release on the driver’s door, he placed his hand over hers.

  “Sit down,” he ordered.

  She’d never heard a tone of voice from him like this before and it gave her shivers. She sat her butt on the seat and crossed her arms. “Unlock my door.” Josh’s handsome features turned toward her. His eyes blistered with anger. “Don’t you dare look at me like that. You have nothing to be angry about.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t believe the admiral when he told me this would happen.” Josh snorted with a sarcastic laugh.
“The man’s a genius. Either that, or all stubborn women act the same way.”

  “Stubborn! What are you talking about?”

  Josh shifted his massive shoulders, his large palm coming to rest on her thigh. “I’ve spent a lot of years saving people who were complete strangers. Hostages. Innocent villagers. Women caught up in human trafficking. Even my own team guys. Most of them, I didn’t know. But it’s my job to step between radicals and their targets. I have a couple bullet holes to tell war stories about when I get older.”

  Her veins constricted with fright. “You were shot! How bad? When?”

  “Sweetheart, my point is, you mean more to me than any of those people I rescued. I won’t let this guy get to you or let you push me away because you think I’ll get caught in the crossfire.” His brows cinched together. “I know you hate me for leaving you in Utah. For now, let’s put the past aside. Once this guy is caught, you won’t see me again.”

  Her entire chest tightened and a ball of emotion rolled up her throat. Tears pushed at the backs of her eyes and she blinked to stop from crying. She’d proved over and over she was self-reliant. Yet, within minutes, she found herself depending on him. The thought of losing him made her sad. But worse, lonely.

  A stupid tear rolled down her cheek and Josh’s brows quirked. He swept the offending droplet away. “We’re partners in this. Agreed?”

  This was a mission for him. They weren’t partners in anything. “For now.”

  He nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Rayne wants you to come to her housewarming party on Saturday. I need to figure out what to get my best friend and his future wife. Want to help me with that?”

  Another stupid tear escaped. Why the emotion? Then her eyes flooded till she couldn’t see anymore. Shocked at her own response, she swiftly turned her head to look out the passenger window.

  “Hey, Dix. What’s wrong?”

  All she could do was shake her head while the waterworks gushed from her eyes. Maybe it wasn’t losing Josh that made her sad, but the bittersweet thought of marriage. Or, more accurately, not having a partner to share her life with. She’d seen the way Lt. Bach looked at Rayne. Totally committed. Completely in love with her.

  Josh’s bulky arm wrapped around her shoulders. Not an easy task with a big console sitting between them.

  “Talk to me. Why the tears, Dix?”

  She swept her cheeks dry. At least she knew when Josh intended to abandon ship and she could prepare herself for it this time. Hadn’t he told her in the hallway outside her office, he wouldn’t run away first? Guess he’d changed his mind, which meant she had to toughen up. See their reunion clearly. The kiss they’d shared earlier meant nothing to him, while it had rocked her right down to her toes.

  He tilted his head to catch her attention. “Are those tears because of something I said?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Isn’t that what women say when they’re the opposite of fine?” he teased.

  She needed to remember he’d had plenty of companions since they’d parted. Why would she think that what they had as young adults would mean anything? He’d left her.

  Dix quickly thought of an acceptable excuse. “Tears of relief. If you catch my stalker, I won’t have to sleep with one eye open.”

  This close, she could smell his aftershave. Josh’s gaze swept across her face and settled on her lips, causing her heart to beat faster. His firm, masculine mouth melted her independence into a mushy glob of weakness. No other man she’d ever met had done this to her.

  “That’s the idea,” he said.

  The kiss reminded her of how much she’d missed him. How much she’d trusted him without question when they were young. Josh was only here fulfilling his duty to protect. When the time came, she’d put on a brave face, quietly conceal her broken heart, and say goodbye again.

  Dixie sat back and released a stuttered exhale. “I have Rayne and Elijah’s gift already. I ordered them a new coffeemaker. Rayne loves her java, so I got her something special from one of my wholesalers. I’ll put both our names on the card.” She smiled, but it felt as fake as a wooden nickel.

  His cell rang and he answered, staring out the front windshield. “Go ahead, Ditz.”

  Josh listened and Dixie watched his expression but saw no change.

  “Got it, thanks.” He disconnected and slipped the phone into his breast pocket.

  “Did he find something else on the video?”

  “Nope. Just some team business.” Josh started the engine and backed out. “If you’ve got the gift covered, then let’s pick up a security system for your place.”

  “Good idea. Then you can go home at night.”

  He headed for Coronado Bridge and downtown San Diego. “Negative on that. I’m staying with you.”

  Driving in the right lane, Dix saw the dark blue water in the bay, the sun glinting off the rippled surface. She slid the window down to feel the balmy breeze on her cheeks. “No, you’re not. I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re going home.”

  He chuckled. “Not like I haven’t slept under the stars before. Sleeping on your front porch isn’t a problem.”

  Having him in her home was pure torment. It had taken hours to fall asleep knowing Josh was down the hall. “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. We’ll mix things up. You can stay at my place a couple nights a week.”

  “I can’t sleep when you’re around.”

  A broad grin eclipsed his firm lips. “That makes two of us. Want to know why?”

  She snorted. “No, thank you. I’ll pass on being one of your SEAL groupies.”

  Josh barked out a laugh and surprised the shit out of her when he gripped her left hand and steered it to his mouth, landing a kiss on her knuckles.

  “Okay, then I’ll be your groupie.”

  They bickered all the way into town and as far as she could tell, neither of them was giving way.

  Chapter Eight

  “Sir, your guest has arrived.”

  “Thank you, Markus. You can call it a day.”

  The butler and staff who kept the estate clean during the year lived in carriage homes at the other end of the hundred-acre property.

  “Thank you, sir. The young lady is waiting in the study and I gave her your note.”

  He nodded his thanks and Markus left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Tipping the Bohemia crystal glass to his lips, the whiskey coated his tongue. He was in no hurry to see the businesswoman he’d hired. She could wait.

  Picking up the remote control, he turned on the television connected to a standalone computer, and opened a folder he’d named Dix at Night. Settling on one particular image, he paused and sipped his drink.

  With the bedroom curtains closed but her night light on, he’d caught her silhouette while she’d undressed. Dixie’s perfect body in dark shadow, a crisp image with her arms in the air as she pulled a shirt over her head and her firm breasts jutted out.

  Oh, yeah. A slow smile slid over his lips as his cock thickened. Dixie Hammond had grown into a beautiful woman. He moved to the next picture, one of his favorites. She’d been sunbathing on the beach near the Del Hotel when she’d first arrived in San Diego. The wind captured her dark locks, fingering the thick strands. Laying on a blanket next to a large log, she perched on her forearms. Every smooth curve of her figure deepened his craving. Full hips, slender waist, and her fucking tits in a blue bikini top created a storm of lust.

  That day he’d been close. No more than fifteen feet away. The beach had been crowded with tourists, and he’d melded in with the sun seekers.

  His mind wandered into a daydream of his choosing, emptying the beach and settling the sun on the horizon. He approached her and Dixie smiled up at him like she used to when she’d see him in New York. Without asking, he imagined her getting to her feet and untying the ribbons at her hips, letting the bikini bottom fall to the blanket. She knew what he wanted and removed her top.

  Fuck, she was beaut
iful, and all his. She turned and palmed the log, her bare ass ready for his assault.

  He was going to fuck her slow at first, then hammer her cunt like a wild animal.

  Sliding his fingers through her wet pussy lips, he squeezed her clit until she moaned. The crown of his cock ached, greedy for her core. Wrapping his hand around her right hip, he rubbed her clit with the crown of his cock.

  Pure pleasure.

  The best fuck he’d ever had.

  The erotic friction of his shaft ramming her wet hole was a fucking dream he played over and over again.

  Getting off on every thrust, her legs quivered and her pussy contracted, squeezing his dick. He withdrew and came over her ass, spraying thready strings of cum on her soft skin. With little rest, he’d make her suck him off until he hardened again.

  Slowly, he opened his eyes, releasing the daydream and inhaled, his erection hard as fucking stone. He set his drink on the walnut end table, turned off the computer and TV, then headed toward the study.

  When he opened the door, the dark-haired beauty didn’t disappoint. She wore a blue silk dress and the blindfold he’d left with the note.

  “Hello, Mr. Smith.” Her silky voice like a soft stroke meant to enflame their experience. The name Smith given to hide his identity.

  He didn’t return the greeting. If she was smart, she’d do what was asked of her in the note. He waited by the door.

  The woman only paused for a second, then released the zipper on her dress and let the fabric slide from her body. Leaving her sky-blue high heels on, she turned and gripped the edge of his dark-stained desk.

  A heart-shaped ass attached to sleek, long legs pleased him. Not quite as good as his Dixie, but she’d do. Removing his own clothes and laying them on the nearby sofa, he approached his guest.

  The woman gasped when he slid his hand up the inside of her leg. A practiced professional reaction or real, he didn’t really care whether she enjoyed herself. That’s not what he was paying her for. He palmed her hips, then traced her body till he cupped her full tits as she leaned over. Firm and a handful.