The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  It hadn’t worked. When her father discovered Tatum’s motive, he’d transferred him. But the experience had been humiliating for her.

  And destroyed her faith in men.

  “What I said earlier is true,” Max said. “It’s possible that whoever has a beef with your father may have sent someone to get close to you.”

  Willow massaged her forehead.

  “So, we do need to discuss the men in your life.”

  “Men?”

  “Most likely the threat is a male. But we can also discuss females.”

  “The only female I’m close to is Lacy,” Willow said. “And I’ve known her since I was a kid.” It wasn’t like Ms. Dora was a threat, or any of the other girls who worked for her. They were all young, working on their educations, trying to plan for a better future.

  “I’m going to request a list of your father’s possible enemies from the MPs. If you’ll make a list of men you’ve dated or come in contact with the last few months, we can compare and look for connections.”

  Nerves tingled along her spine. She really had to do this. Tell Max about the men in her life.

  She could be truthful about some of them. But there were others she couldn’t discuss. Ones with no names…

  More doubts crept in. What if the man who’d called her and cornered her in the bathroom was one of her clients?

  What if he was after her father, and by following her, he’d learned her secret and now he planned to use it against her?

  If he told her father, her father would be crushed.

  And if she wasn’t honest with Max, the man might get away with his plan and hurt her father.

  But how could she admit she was working a phone sex business to Max?

  * * *

  Tension vibrated between them as Max made the drive to Willow’s. He hoped Willow was compiling a mental list of names to give him, but he couldn’t read her. She’d shut down.

  He parked behind her car at the apartment house, noting a Lincoln in the drive. “Whose car is that?”

  “Ms. Dora’s,” Willow said as she climbed out.

  “And the other cars?” A black mini-cooper, Honda sedan. And a Jeep wrangler.

  “The other girls who live here. Sue-Kim, Maybelline, and Yvonne.”

  Max locked the SUV as they walked up the sidewalk to her private entrance. “Do you know the girls well?”

  Willow shook her head. “They’re students. We’re all pretty busy with our schedules and studying.” And then our jobs, talking sexy to men half the night.

  She had calls to make this evening herself. Only suddenly the thought of listening to a man murmuring erotic nothings to her while pleasuring himself didn’t sound appealing. Not that she’d ever really enjoyed it.

  She’d just learned to tolerate it because the money was good, and she liked her independence. She hated having to ask her father for money. He viewed supporting her financially as carte blanche to be privy to the details of her life.

  “Willow?”

  She paused at the bottom of the steps. “What?”

  “I know you don’t want me here invading your privacy, and I’m sorry,” Max said. “Just make that list and maybe we can figure out this threat. Then I can get out of your hair.”

  Willow looked into his eyes, her heart drumming at the sincerity in his tone. And those eyes…just like Lacy said, they were the darkest brown, like the best whiskey in town.

  Of all things, she’d learned to love brown whiskey from her father.

  She could just about drown in it just like she was drowning in his eyes.

  “Willow?”

  “Yes,” she said a little too breathlessly. “I’ll make that list when we get inside.”

  He nodded, and she forced herself up the steps. If she didn’t, she might dive right in and make a fool out of herself. Because kissing him suddenly seemed so tempting that she wanted it more than her next breath.

  His heels clicked behind her on the steps, but when she reached the top of the porch, she spotted a package in a plain brown box propped by the door.

  Willow reached for it, but Max caught her hand. “Wait. There’s no return address or address of the sender.” His expression indicated he didn’t like that fact. “Were you expecting a package?”

  Her heart stuttered as she realized the implication. “No, but—”

  “Let me check it out first.” He knelt to examine the box, and Willow took a step back, her pulse clamoring.

  Max obviously thought someone might try to kidnap or hurt her to get to the general.

  Would he actually leave a bomb on her doorstep?

  One Night to Kill: Chapter Eight

  Max didn’t like the fact that this package had no return address on it. It wasn’t even postmarked.

  Someone had hand delivered it.

  He scanned the property and street, his senses alert. He didn’t see the black sedan, but whoever left the package could have dropped it off earlier.

  He wiped his sweaty palms on his hands then removed a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to keep his fingerprints off the paper as he picked it up.

  He slowly lifted it to his ear and listened for a ticking sound.

  Thankfully nothing.

  Still, he couldn’t be too careful.

  “What do we do now?” Willow asked.

  “Stand back. I’m going to open it out here in the yard.”

  “But—”

  “No, buts, Willow. I want to check the inside of your apartment before you go in, too.”

  She made a low sound in her throat, then rushed down the steps. He carried the box to the back yard which jutted up to woods. He walked a safe distance from the house then set the box down in the middle of some brush, removed his pocketknife and eased it along the seam of the box to open it.

  He paused to listen again as he cut away the flap. Still nothing.

  Anxiety knotted his shoulders as he slowly peeled one edge of the box back. Tissue paper caught his eye, as if a gift had been wrapped inside.

  He frowned. It could be a decoy.

  Still cautious, he eased the other side of the box open and slowly moved the tissue aside.

  No bomb, thank God.

  Instead a pair of crotchless black lace panties lay inside the white tissue, a blood red rose on top of them.

  A note was tucked inside as well. A note that read, “You’re mine.”

  His pulse raced. Had Willow lied about having a boyfriend or lover? And if she had, why?

  Was there some reason she thought the man might not pass muster with her father?

  Something that in light of the threat against him might make her suspect that she’d made a mistake by trusting him?

  But if she was intimate with the sender, why hadn’t he signed the card?

  * * *

  Willow held her breath as she watched Max open the box.

  From the edge of the woods, she saw him look up and shake his head relaying that it was safe. Relief surged through her.

  How did her father live like this? And why was someone threatening him?

  She hadn’t asked, but now she wanted to know.

  Max picked up the box and strode toward the house, and she met him on the side porch. “What was it?”

  His dark expression made her stomach knot again. “Max?”

  He set the box down. “Looks like a gift from one of your male friends.”

  Instantly she tensed. What? She didn’t have a serious boyfriend or lover. Heck, she’s been so busy finishing her language studies that she hadn’t had time for dating.

  Curious though, she stooped down and pushed aside the tissue paper. A startled gasp escaped her when she saw the sexy underwear and rose. And that note…not signed.

  “I’m assuming you know who sent this,” Max said matter-of-factly.

  She shook her head. “I have no idea.” At least that was the truth.

  His eyes narrowed. “The wording sounds similar to what the man in the bath
room said to you.”

  She shivered. “I know. It’s creepy.”

  “Then you have a secret admirer.”

  “Maybe.” She struggled with an attack of nerves. Having an anonymous admirer should be flattering. But considering her online business and day’s events, it wasn’t flattering or funny or appealing.

  In fact, it felt downright scary. Stalker-ish.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me, Willow. Do you know this man? Are you trying to protect him for some reason?”

  “No,” she said. “I have no idea who he is. And it makes me nervous knowing a stranger is watching me.”

  Max gently squeezed her arm. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She shrugged, trying to tamp down her fear. “I’m probably overreacting.”

  “In light of the circumstances, I don’t think so.”

  He gestured toward the door. “Let me sweep the apartment, then we’ll discuss possibilities. Even if one of the men you know doesn’t pose a threat to your father, he might be developing an unhealthy obsession.”

  Which could be dangerous in itself. She’d seen enough television shows and news to know that.

  Now she just had to figure out how much to tell Max.

  * * *

  Max relaxed slightly at the realization that the security alarm was working. Still, he eased open the door and peered inside, scanning the entry way then the kitchen.

  Everything appeared just as they’d left it.

  He quickly moved to the adjoining living area then to her bedroom

  Again, nothing looked amiss. The purple bedding still looked plush. And her fat cat had taken residence in the middle. He even lifted his head as if to challenge Max and claim ownership.

  Relieved not to find an intruder, Max headed back to the porch and motioned to Willow that it was safe to come in.

  “What do I do with that box?”

  “Leave it. I’ll take it to a crime lab and see if they can lift some prints off of it.”

  She set her shoulder bag and computer on the pine table, and he demonstrated how to activate and deactivate the alarm system. When she’d mastered it, he asked her to sit down.

  “We need to talk.”

  Willow’s phone jangled, and she removed it from her pocket and checked the caller ID.

  Max tensed. “Who is it?”

  “Lacy,” she said as she jammed it back in her pocket. “I’ll call her back later.”

  Max claimed the chair opposite her, removed a pad and pen from his pocket and laid them in front of him. “Now, about that list? Let’s start with men you’ve dated the past six months?”

  Willow twisted her hands together on the table, but Teensy waddled in and rubbed against her legs. “Ahh, baby, you’re hungry, aren’t you?”

  Max chewed the inside of his cheek. The cat could live off of his own fat for days.

  But Willow petted him behind his ears and the cat purred in contentment. Talking baby talk to the animal, she went to the cupboard, removed a can of cat food, opened it and scooped the contents in to the cat’s bowl. Teensy purred up at her and dug in, but not before giving Max a look declaring that he owned the place.

  And that Max was an unwanted outsider.

  Max tapped his pen. “Willow, about those names?”

  “My life is boring, Max.” With the feline content, she sighed and sank into the chair again. “I haven’t dated anyone in the past few months.”

  Max found that hard to believe. And judging from her phone calls, her life was nothing but boring. It was pretty damn...interesting. “It doesn’t have to be a long term boyfriend. What about one of your fellow students? Even if you just hooked up for a night.” Not that he wanted to hear details. But she was a grown woman, a very sexy one, and she had obviously entertained lovers.

  “Well, there was one guy. Ian, but he moved away three months ago.”

  Max scribbled down the man’s first name. “Last name?”

  “Roberts,” Willow said.

  “Where did he move?”

  “His company transferred him to Columbia, South Carolina.”

  “How long did the two of you date?”

  Willow shrugged. “We went out a few times, but I don’t think he sent that gift or cornered me in the bathroom.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “We weren’t serious, and when we parted, it was amicable.”

  “Even so, something could have happened after he left that triggered him to change.” Or perhaps someone hired him because of the general. He could have made friends with her, then pretended to leave town but hung around, biding his time until

  time to implement his plan.

  “I suppose,” Willow said, although her voice lacked conviction.

  “Who else?” Max asked.

  Teensy licked her chops, loped over and rubbed against Willow’s leg again, and she scooped him up and cradled him in her lap. Lucky cat.

  “Really no one that I can think of.”

  “How about that stocky guy you were cozy with in class?”

  Willow’s eyes widened. “You mean Benny Locklear?”

  “I don’t know his name, but tell me about him.”

  “He didn’t send me the underwear, and he’s certainly not infatuated with me.”

  “He appeared to be.”

  Willow laughed. “Max, Benny is gay.”

  Max frowned. “That’s what you told your landlord about me.”

  She nuzzled the cat. “But Benny really is gay. And he makes no bones about it.”

  “Oh.” Then again, he looked military. And they suspected the threat against her father might be related to the general. “Was he in the service?”

  She shook her head. “No, he’s into body building.”

  That explained the muscles. Still, if there was anything to find on him, Drew would find it. He’d send him his name right away.

  “How about that professor?”

  Willow wrinkled her nose. “Professor LaRue?”

  “Yes.” The French one with the wandering eyes. “Has he ever asked you out?”

  “He mentioned drinks today, but that’s the first time.”

  “Are you interested in him?” Now, where did that question come from?

  Willow raised a brow. “Is that relevant?”

  He gritted his teeth. “If you aren’t interested and he sensed that, he might get angry. There are instances where men form obsessions over a woman when she did nothing to encourage it. Sometimes a brief conversation or encounter, a smile, a nice word, can trigger it.”

  “I don’t see him being like that,” Willow said. “And I certainly don’t want him interrogated like he’s done something wrong. That gift could be innocent.”

  Max studied her for a moment. “You don’t believe that, Willow. Whether it’s related to the threat against your father or not, you may have a stalker.”

  Teensy hopped down and loped back to the bedroom, and Willow stood, walked to the sink and looked out the window above it. The woods loomed behind her, a perfect place for someone to hide.

  For an attacker to slip up in the dark and surprise her.

  “How about online dating?” Max asked. “Do you belong to any matchmaking sites?”

  “No,” Willow said. “I don’t want or need a man bad enough to resort to dating sites.”

  “So you think people who use them are desperate?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Willow said. “My friend Lacy has tried it. But right now I’m focusing on future job hunting, not manhunting.”

  “What about any singles chat sites? Or a nightclub you frequent.”

  Willow looked startled for a moment. “Oh, good grief. I forgot I told Lacy I’d meet her tonight at the club.”

  Max balled his hands by his sides. Just what he wanted to do—watch Willow flirt and dance with other men. He could see her gyrating that sexy ass up to some panting hound dog.

  “That’s not a good
idea,” he said. “Especially since you said you’re not manhunting.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’ll ditch my friend. We have a rule about not going clubbing alone.”

  At least that was smart. “All right. Back to whoever left that gift—is there anyone you know casually, maybe a delivery man or someone at the local coffee shop or a repairman who expressed a personal interest?”

  Every muscle in Willow’s body seemed to tense.

  “You’re thinking of someone,” he said. “Who is it, Willow?”

  She fiddled with the end of her hair, looking antsy. “No one.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re covering for someone. Who is it?”

  “I’m not covering for anyone,” Willow snapped.

  Max’s temper flared. If she didn’t cooperate, how could he keep her damn ass safe? “What about the man you were talking to on the phone last night?”

  Willow went stone still and curled her fingers around the edge of the sink. “What?”

  Max fought to keep emotions from his voice. “The one you were talking sex talk to?”

  Tension vibrated through the air as she spun around to face him. Her eyes flickered with accusations. “You listened to my phone call? You were outside the door?”

  Too late, Max realized he’d revealed too much. But she was keeping secrets from him, and he couldn’t protect her if she lied to him.

  * * *

  Willow mentally retraced the events of the night before. She was talking to Lacy when Max had arrived and announced he was her bodyguard.

  She’d given him a pillow and blanket to sleep in the hallway.

  Dora had shown up and they’d talked. Max overhead her tell Dora that he was gay, so he’d wormed his way inside her apartment. He’d changed in the bathroom and—

  Suddenly the truth hit her, and she began to tear through the place. She checked the kitchen, the light fixture, the den phone, beneath the desk.

  “What are you doing, Willow?” Max asked.

  “You bugged my apartment, didn’t you?” she cried. “You violated my privacy and listened to my phone calls and what else?” She threw a pillow across the room at him. “Did you install cameras, too?” Hysteria threatened. “Where are they? In my bedroom? My bathroom?”