The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  If so, he’d put a stop to that real fast. Willow would not be talking sexy to any other man while he was around.

  A nagging voice warned him that he sounded sexist.

  But he didn’t care. His job was to protect Willow from the threat to her father and from any other dangers in her path—that included men that wanted to get in her pants.

  Of course, he was one of them, but he didn’t count.

  Maybe Drew would come through and he’d find the man stalking Willow.

  * * *

  Willow’s phone buzzed with a text.

  At the club. Where are you?

  Shoot. She should have begged off tonight. But she and Lacy always hung in pairs and watched each other’s backs—and drinks.

  “So what do we do until you solve this problem?” Sue Kim asked.

  “Business as usual,” Ms. Dora said.

  “I can’t do it.” Willow’s voice broke. She’d have to find another way to pay her bills. “Please take me off the list.”

  A second paused. “Of course,” Ms. Dora said. “I’ll transfer your regulars to another girl.”

  Willow relaxed slightly. She would change her phone number asap.

  “I’ll inform Yvonne about the problem as well,” Ms. Dora said.

  The other girls nodded, and Willow hugged the older woman. She felt badly for leaving Ms. Dora in a lurch, but she couldn’t stomach accepting calls knowing that any one of the men might show up at her door and want more.

  Not wanting to leave Lacy alone at the club, she hurried back to her apartment and changed into a short black halter dress, then added a pair of dangling silver earrings and slipped on strappy sandals. Then she stuffed her ID and some cash into a clutch and called a cab.

  Five minutes later, she climbed out and walked up the sidewalk to the club. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she glanced over her shoulder to see if her caller was following her.

  But Max was behind her, his expression filled with anger. Apparently he intended to ignore her request to leave her alone.

  Well, let him watch.

  As far as she was concerned, he was invisible.

  * * *

  Max couldn’t believe Willow was clubbing tonight. Not knowing a stranger was stalking her and that she might be in danger because of her father.

  What was she thinking?

  Did she really expect him to turn tail and run, to forget his assignment, just because she’d ordered him to?

  Maybe he had crossed the line with the bug, but he wouldn’t have needed to if she’d been cooperative.

  Besides, this crowded bar where the animals had gathered to hunt for hook ups was not a safe place for any single woman.

  Much less one as hot and sexy as Willow.

  Contemporary rock music blared from the speakers, lights twirled across the crowded dance floor where couples and singles gyrated and humped in a semblance of dancing.

  Willow wove through the throng, smiling at a few patrons who spoke to her, then darted over to a small table in the corner and met up with her friend Lacy.

  Max managed to find a vacant bar stool not too far from the table so he could keep an eye on her.

  An attractive brunette bartender tapped the bar in front of him. “What’ll you have, mister?”

  He wanted a beer. And if he was on leave as he’d planned, he might flirt with the woman. She was sort of attractive. Well, not if you compared her to Willow, but he couldn’t use her as a gauge the rest of his life. “Tonic water.”

  She nodded and grabbed him the drink. “Starting a tab?”

  He shook his head and laid some cash on the bar. Hopefully Willow wouldn’t stay long.

  But two excruciating hours passed while he watched her and her friend flirt and dance with strange men with octopus hands. Their lascivious looks, groping fingers and slick moves made his protective instincts mount.

  Irrational jealousy mushroomed inside him.

  Lady Gaga’s Just Dance echoed through the speakers as a big blond guy swung Willow onto the dance floor. Her friend Lacy was dancing with a dark-skinned guy wearing a thick gold chain around his neck.

  Several attractive females were giving him the eye. This club was a hunting ground. If he wasn’t on duty, he’d take one of the women up on the invitations in their eyes.

  But none of them stirred his blood like Willow.

  God, she looked beautiful in that slinky short black dress. The halter top dipped low offering glimpses of high firm breasts with just enough cleavage showing for him to tease her tender skin with kisses.

  And those endless legs—he could feel her calves tightening around his back as he thrust inside her.

  A jazzy blues tune followed, a song that invited slow dancing, and the blond pulled Willow to him, one hand splayed across her hip as he nuzzled her neck with his face.

  What was the Cretan doing? Smelling her hair?

  Her body was pressed so close to the man that you couldn’t stick a pin between them. Knowing a male’s typical reaction, he was probably hard as a rock and planning his seduction.

  Worse, the bastard had his head buried in her hair just the way Max wanted to bury his head in that hair. Willow tilted her head back, exposing the long slender column of her neck, and making that riotous hair spill down her back. The bastard pounced on the moment and kissed her throat.

  Max clenched his drink so hard he spilled it on his shirt. The pretty bartender slid a napkin in his hand and murmured something, but he couldn’t drag his eyes off of Willow.

  What if that man had left the box on her doorstep? He could have followed her to the bar, watched her, and now he was making his move. Then the bastard’s tongue came out and he started to lick her ear…

  In spite of the voice ordering him to keep his ass on the stool, he lurched up and strode through the crowd.

  By the time he reached Willow, the guy was trailing one hand down Willow’s hip.

  He tapped the man’s back hard enough to bruise him, then smiled when the guy jerked his head toward him.

  “My turn, buddy.”

  “Excuse me?” the man barked.

  “She’s with me,” Max said, earning a glare from Willow.

  The man angled his head toward Willow. “You’re with him?”’

  “No,” Willow said.

  “Yes,” Max said at the same time.

  The guy backed up, his hands thrown up in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not getting into the middle of a lover’s quarrel.”

  “We’re not lovers,” Willow said.

  “We could be,” Max said, unable to stop his mouth as the man darted away.

  Willow shot daggers at Max with her eyes. “I told you to leave me alone.”

  Max ignored her angry look and drew her up against him, his heart pounding as her body brushed his. She whispered his name on a throaty sigh, a sign that she felt the heat between them as well.

  “I had the situation under control,” she murmured.

  He stroked her back, willing himself not to take it any farther. But her breasts were spilling over the vee of the dress and her lips were painted a decadent red that made him ache to taste her.

  The sensual way she moved against him brought images of how well the two of them would fit together in bed. All the wicked things they could do to one another, all the pleasure he could give her.

  “Willow, listen to me,” he said, his jaw tight as he struggled for control. “You say you don’t know who left you that underwear or who shoved you into that bathroom, but he’s probably following you. For all we know he could be in the bar right now.” He gestured toward the blond who was still watching them from his table, ready to jump in the minute Willow broke away from Max. “That man could be your stalker.”

  Fear flickered in her eyes, making him feel like a heel. But she needed to be afraid.

  That fear would make her more cautious, and possibly keep her alive if someone did attack her.

  * * *

  Willow
fought the fear snaking through her. She wanted to

  run as far away from Max as she could.

  She wanted to run into his arms and let him hold her and comfort her and make her forget that she and her father were in danger.

  And talk about making her paranoid – now every man with a dick looked downright scary.

  Max ran his hand along her waist, stirring sensations that she hadn’t felt in a long time and awakening desires that, considering who he was and the reason for his visit, were best left dormant.

  She stepped back, putting some distance between them. “I should go home.” She glanced over at her friend who was still dancing with the Colombian. “But I need to talk to Lacy first.”

  Max’s dark eyes turned worried. “Who’s the man she’s dancing with?”

  Willow tensed at the undertones in his voice. “A guy she’s been dating for a few weeks.”

  Although she thought he was safe, she hadn’t considered that her stalker, or the person threatening her father, might use one of her friends to get access to her.

  * * *

  Willow had a fight with her bodyguard. And now she’d gone to Ms. Dora worried about the phone calls.

  His plan was working.

  He slipped inside her apartment and combed through her underwear drawer, his body growing excited from touching the decadent lace and satin. He closed his eyes, imagining Willow dressed in the lacy underwear he’d sent, imagined stripping the crotchless panties off of her, and doing all the naughty things she talked about over the phone.

  Imagined himself inside her, buried so deeply that she’d never forget who he was or ignore him again.

  Maybe it was time to make his move.

  One hot night with him, and she’d forget any other man she’d ever been with.

  One hot night with him and she’d be his forever.

  One Night to Kill: Chapter Eleven

  The fact that Willow wanted Max to stay with her was almost as scary as the fact that someone wanted to do her harm.

  But she was definitely ready to go home for the night.

  She stopped and talked to Benny for a moment, then wove through the crowd and found her friend deep in the arms of Anton.

  She cleared her throat to get their attention, then motioned for Lacy to step over and talk to her. Lacy gave Anton a kiss, then joined her at the edge of the dance floor.

  “Since Anton’s here, I’m going home,” Willow said.

  Lacy squeezed her hand. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, Willow. I thought he had to work tonight, but he got off at the last minute.”

  “No problem,” Willow said. “I’m just tired and ready to crash. But you’re okay with him?”’

  Lacy winked. “More than okay. He said he has a surprise for me later.”’

  “Good, I hope it works out.” Lacy was one of those women who wanted a man and thought she wasn’t complete without one. But she was notorious for choosing players.

  “Just be careful, Lacy.”

  “I will. What about you? Are you and Sergeant Sexy finally going to get it on?”

  Willow wished. “Hardly. Earlier I discovered that the insufferable man bugged my bedroom.”

  Lacy gaped at her. “Really?”

  “Can you believe it?” she asked, still stunned. “I threw him out when I found the bug.”

  Lacy narrowed her eyes. “But you two looked like you were about to do a tango on the dance floor.”

  She wished that could happen to. But it so could not.

  “It’s complicated,” she said. Heck, she’d crawled into his arms out of fear.

  Not that she didn’t want more. She’d fantasized about tearing his clothes off and sliding skin against skin, but she had her pride.

  So tangling between the sheets was not going to happen.

  She hugged Lacy, then turned to leave. Max was waiting by the table near the bar and followed her outside.

  Max caught her before she could hail a cab. “Will your friend be all right with that guy?”

  Willow nodded, her anger at Max dissipating slightly. How could she fault him for being concerned about her friend?

  “Benny will keep an eye out on them,” Willow explained.

  “What do you know about him?”

  Willow clutched her bag. “He works for a finance company and is loaded.”

  “So you and your friend are impressed by his bank account?”

  Willow scowled at him, too tired to argue. “That’s not what I meant, so don’t put words in my mouth.” She threw up her hand to motion for a taxi. “Now good night, Sergeant.”

  His dark gaze pinned her. “Come on, you’re not paying for a cab when I can drive you.”

  “What if I don’t want to ride with you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I’m going back to your place anyway.”

  “Max—”

  “It’ll save you money, Willow.”

  Well, drat. How could she argue with that? She’d just quit her job, so she needed to pinch pennies.

  She didn’t have to like it though.

  So she climbed in his SUV, and let him drive her back to her apartment.

  But she didn’t bother to speak to him or invite him in. She was still mad about that bug.

  Let him sleep in his car for all she cared. It might be hot outside, but if he came in, she’d forget her anger and drag him into her bedroom and make good on the promises in his body when he’d held her on the dance floor.

  Thankfully, she was saved though by Pete. Ms. Dora’s grandson was sitting on the steps to her private entrance.

  He fidgeted, toying with his collar as she approached.

  “Pete, what are you doing here?”

  He looked up at her, his mouth twitching. “Gran told me that someone might be stalking you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Willow’s heart melted. Pete was such a sweet guy. And unlike Max, he was harmless.

  So she opened the door and invited him inside.

  * * *

  Max started to climb from his SUV, but the withering look Willow had shot him warned him not to attempt to come inside tonight.

  She was still furious about that damn bug. How would she react if she knew he’d eavesdropped on the porch and heard her and Ms. Dora and the other girls discussing trouble in paradise?

  His phone buzzed, and he checked the number. Drew.

  Maybe he had some good news. Maybe the threat to the general had been identified and he could pack up and leave Willow.

  Except he still didn’t know who’d sent her those crotchless panties or cornered her in the bathroom.

  He punched “connect” just as Willow greeted Ms. Dora’s grandson. He was perched on the stoop waiting, an awkward smile on his face. The poor kid had a crush on her.

  At least the security system was on, and if Pete went in the house with her, Max would know that the house was clear.

  Drew cleared his throat. “I’ve been checking out those names.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “First off, the guy Willow dated checks out. Ian Roberts works for a pharmaceutical company in South Carolina as she said. And he’s engaged to another woman.”

  He could rule him out then.

  “About the professor, LaRue -- he’s been married three times, but he doesn’t have a record, and no complaints have been filed against him.”

  “No rumors even that he might have stalked a student?”

  “Nothing that I found.”

  “How about the threat to the general?”

  “Like I said earlier, we think it has something to do with that mission that went awry. I’m looking into the families of those who lost soldiers. So far, I’ve checked out

  Josie Trenton. Unfortunately her parents are deceased, but she left a husband behind. His name was Bill.”

  “And?”

  “According to Bill’s father, Bill has been grieving, but he’s doing the best he can. He works on an oil rig near New
Orleans and has been on board for the past three months.”

  “So he’s not behind this threat?”

  “I don’t think so. The father admitted he was angry, but more so at his wife for reenlisting last year than at the military. Apparently he wanted her to stay home and have a family.”

  That could create bitterness.

  The lights flickered on in Willow’s house. He followed her movements through the windows, another reminder that he needed to stress she buy blackout curtains. “Have you checked his correspondence to make sure he didn’t hire someone to come after the general?”

  “I’ve scrutinized all his phone calls, texts, emails and found nothing incriminating.”

  “How about the other two families?”

  “Latrine Johnson’s family lives in North Carolina.”

  “Go on.”

  “He was survived by a wife and two children, boys ages ten and eight. His father was in the Marines, his mother a homemaker.”

  “So military life runs in the family?”

  “Yeah, the wife was broken hearted, but she claimed she was proud of her husband for his bravery and courage. Surprisingly she didn’t sound bitter, just sad.”

  “What about Latrine’s father? If he thought his son died because of a mistake, maybe he wanted the person responsible to pay.”

  “I thought of that, too, and spoke with him myself. But the truth is, the man is not all there. He suffered a head injury in a recent car accident, and lost motor functions as well as speech and memory. I don’t think he has the mental or physical capacity to orchestrate a plan of revenge.”

  Max pressed the automatic window button, the humidity swirling through the car and making him sweat. “How about the Muirs?”

  “I’m still looking into them.”

  “And Willow?” Her secret sex business was on his radar now, but she could have had affairs she hadn’t mentioned.

  For all he knew, she might belong to some sex club.

  “So far, she looks clean. Graduated from undergraduate and grad school with honors, is fluent in several languages. No long term boyfriends, engagements or live-ins.”

  “How about online affairs or dating sites?”