A stalker on her tail...
The Security Specialists at her side
Security expert Wilder Flynn wastes no time putting behavioral expert Cosette LaCroix under his 24/7 protection when her stalker finds her in Atlanta. Wilder keeps Cosette close to guard her from the quickly escalating threats and attacks. But can he accomplish the mission without breaking his strict code against dating employees? Or putting his heart and life at risk?
“I think it’s time you come clean.”
Her hands continued to shake.
Wilder’s eyes softened as he led her to the table and into a chair. She didn’t want this—this feeling of needing him. But part of her relished that he was here. Protecting her. It wrapped around her heart and caressed it until it was warm and pliable. No. She closed her eyes. She would not let herself react this way to him.
“Cosette?” Wilder sat across from her, leaned forward on the table. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. I think I scared him. Interrupted him.”
“Interrupted him doing what?” His voice was low and icy.
“Drawing that heart. Sifting through my things.” She couldn’t stop shaking.
Wilder got up from the table and pulled her into his powerful arms. “How long has this been going on?”
Cosette couldn’t keep this a secret any longer. Wilder would lose all faith in her when he discovered the truth that she wasn’t the put-together professional he thought her to be. “The first time or this time?”
Wilder stiffened.
Jessica R. Patch lives in the mid-South, where she pens inspirational contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels. When she’s not hunched over her laptop or going on adventurous trips with willing friends in the name of research, you can find her watching way too much Netflix with her family and collecting recipes for amazing dishes she’ll probably never cook. To learn more about Jessica, please visit her at jessicarpatch.com.
Books by Jessica R. Patch
Love Inspired Suspense
The Security Specialists
Deep Waters
Secret Service Setup
Dangerous Obsession
Fatal Reunion
Protective Duty
Concealed Identity
Final Verdict
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DANGEROUS OBSESSION
Jessica R. Patch
Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.
—Isaiah 43:1
To my sister, Celeste. The love you have for people who are hurting and your gift to help them always amazes me. I admire and respect you and your calling. Also, thank you for the invaluable information in helping me plot this story—I’m not sure which one of us is creepier. Let’s blame Mom either way!
Special thanks to:
My agent, Rachel Kent. My editor, Shana Asaro. And my brainstorming partner, Susan Tuttle.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
DEAR READER
EXCERPT FROM KILLER COUNTRY REUNION BY JENNA NIGHT
ONE
I’ve missed you. When you visit the one you love, you’ll see how much I love you, too.
Cosette LaCroix’s hands trembled and she dropped the card with the typed note inside on the café table. It had been three years and she’d finally stopped looking over her shoulder, waiting for Jeffrey Levitts—her former boyfriend and boss in Washington, DC—to appear. But he’d found her. And she knew exactly what this note meant. She darted a glance out the large café windows and searched the sidewalks. Was he out there lurking? She shivered, suddenly feeling watched.
“Hey!” Wilder Flynn’s husky, deep voice boomed.
Cosette startled and fumbled to shove the card inside the envelope and appear calm. Collected. Her present boss couldn’t know about Jeffrey—that she’d been in a relationship with a narcissistic monster. Her job was to spot these people. To help other women escape them. Not fall into the same trap. Not to mention Wilder didn’t know she’d taken the job at Covenant Crisis Management three years ago to escape Jeffrey. Who better to find safety with than a security specialist? She was supposed to be one herself!
Clearing her throat, she masked the sheer terror sending her heart into arrhythmia. “What?” she barked and balled her fist in her lap to conceal the tremors.
He cocked his head, studied her and frowned. “Amy said you took the last of the cascara syrup. I was set on a cascara latte. It’s been a rough morning.”
“Couldn’t find any matching socks?” Cosette smirked, but inside she was drowning. She peeked out the window again, watching downtown Atlanta in action and hoping Jeffrey wasn’t out there. “Tell Aurora to order more syrup.” Aurora Marsh had opened Sufficient Grounds 2.0 a year ago, after her first coffee café had burned down, when she’d lived in Hope, Tennessee. Cosette loved the atmosphere here. Wilder loved the free coffee and free use of the conference center to meet with clients and colleagues on occasion, which must be why he was here.
“Matching socks have nothing to do with it. I’m trying to figure out what to do with the apartment upstairs now that you’ve moved out—which I still think is ridiculous.” He pouted like a child, not a six-foot-three former Navy SEAL who ran a world renowned private security company. Wilder collapsed in the chair across from her, his ebony hair falling over his eyebrows. He didn’t keep a military cut like most soldiers. Probably because one of his best features was his thick, luxurious locks. It was shaggy, but not like a kid who needed a haircut. More like a hair model. She’d love to run her hands—
“Stop staring at my hair and focus.” Teasing played in his voice.
“I’m not staring.” But taking her mind off what was lying on the table helped bring calm to her jittery insides. Nothing helped the feeling that malicious eyes might right now be spying on her, though.
He gave her a pointed look. Okay, she was staring. Wilder was a sight to behold, but she’d given up on men for good after Jeffrey. Men in her life abused and manipulated, all the way back to her father, who was rotting in a New Orleans prison this very moment. Right where he belonged. The thought brought her back to the card, and her stomach knotted.
“What’s going on with you?” Wilder asked, his usual charm replaced with concern. Great. She thought she’d done a better job hiding it.
“Nothing,” she managed.
“Look at me.” Wilder waited and she inhaled, then slowly shifted her gaze to his emerald greens canopied by dark lashes. He peered into her eyes until she squirmed in her seat. It felt like a year passed with him just staring at her, searching for truth, assessing. “You’re lying to me,” he murmured.
She didn’t want to. “I’m not.” He was going to push until she squealed. That was his way, which wasn’t fair. Wilder was sealed tighter than his weapons’ cage at CCM. He would never take the hourly couch sessions she required from all team members. Never talked about his sister Meghan’s murder—and it had been several years since she’d been killed by a stalker. Cosette felt the blood drain fro
m her face in a whoosh.
“Yes, you are, Cosette. You’re looking me right in the eye and lying your face off.” His inhalation was sharp and he pushed back in his chair. “But I guess we’re all entitled to secrets. I just don’t like ones that bleach your face and make you fidgety and paranoid.”
She didn’t like keeping secrets from Wilder, but she would have to admit she’d originally accepted the job to hide. From a stalker! Admit she’d failed professionally...and personally. “I, um...I got an invitation to my fifteenth high school reunion.” One truth she could reveal.
How did Jeffrey know her PO box number? She never used her physical address.
“Really? That’s what’s got your pants in a wrinkle?” The black-as-night scruff that covered Wilder’s chin, cheeks and neck hid a face that was too boyish to be thirty-three, but it didn’t hide the fact he wasn’t buying her weak excuse.
No, that wasn’t what had her in a mood; she wasn’t going. While Jeffrey had been the most humiliating “relationship” of her life, since she ought to have seen the signs—she was a behavioral expert!—it wasn’t her only disastrous or toxic romance. With an abusive father came all the baggage. And as a teenage girl, she’d wanted approval, acceptance and love. She’d been like a starving dog, happy to eat scraps. It had led to many rotten boys. She would no more step foot at that reunion, where people knew her indiscretions, her poor family history, than—
“Are you going?” Wilder was holding her postcard-style invitation in his hand, pointing to the Plus-One. “It’s this weekend.”
She always visited Mama’s grave on Mother’s Day. That was next Sunday. But Jeffrey had left something there for her and he’d be expecting her to come retrieve it—or he might be baiting her. If she used the reunion as a cover, she could go early and still pay Mama her respects, as well as change the flowers on her grave.
“If I can have the weekend, including Friday, off.” Working in the security industry meant her weekends were often tied up on the job.
“You want both weekends off?” He raised an eyebrow.
“No, I’ll just visit my mama’s grave this Sunday.”
Wilder’s lips corkscrewed and his eyes narrowed. “What’s the real deal with you, Cosette?” He folded his arms and pinned her with a glare. This man!
“Nothing. I just... I need this weekend.”
“And a Plus-One.” He held up the invitation again and pointed to it.
She groaned. “I don’t need a man.”
Men were nothing but trouble. Possessive. Demanding.
A lopsided grin spread. “Well, what about a chicory coffee? Because I need that cascara latte.”
She wasn’t immune to Wilder’s ways. His charm was like a weapon he wielded with ease and perfection, always hitting his intended target. But she was wise to it and right now, he wanted her to relax so she’d spill the truth. Also, he did want her latte. That much she would give in to.
She slid him the coffee. “I have lipstick marks on it.”
“Red.” He didn’t bother to wipe the stains away before he sipped the drink. “My favorite.” The way he said it—the action itself—did strange things to her belly. No. Way. Wilder was a gorgeous man, honest and caring, but there were too many reasons she refused to entertain romantic ideas about him. He had a few traits that kept her at bay, like his obsessive tendencies and his need to control, plus he was her boss, and if that wasn’t enough, he was emotionally unavailable. Besides, she wasn’t going to be another man’s possession ever again. “When do we leave Friday?” he asked.
“There is no ‘we’—only me.” The last thing she needed was Wilder forcing her to attend the reunion and discovering what a needy, clingy and starved-for-love girl Cosette had been—might still be. “And if you’re going to drink my latte, the least you can do is go order my chicory coffee.” She shooed him away with her hand. She needed air. A minute to think without him hovering.
His massive frame lifted from the chair and he swaggered to the counter, his trendy jeans fitting snugly and his white dress shirt stretching across his back.
Should she even go to New Orleans at all? She didn’t care that Jeffrey had left her something at the grave—no, she did. It angered her that he would infringe on her private place where she honored her mother. He’d desecrated it. And he wasn’t going to keep her from going to Mama like she did every year.
“Here’s your coffee with chicory, Miss LaCroix.” Amy grinned and set it on the table. “Mr. Flynn had a phone call. Said to deliver it to you in person because...” her cheeks turned pink “...you were too lazy to walk to the counter and get it yourself. I think he was teasing, though.”
Cosette rolled her eyes and darted one last peek out the window, trying not to shiver again. “Thanks, Amy. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Cosette?” Amy had been dating their computer analyst for almost five months. By now, they should be on a first name basis. She motioned to Wilder’s empty chair. “Have a seat if you have a sec.” She could use a distraction from the card, from the feeling of eyes on her, from Wilder.
Amy sat across from her, a dreamy grin on her face.
“Thinking of Wheezer?” Cosette asked. She knew that lovesick look.
“We’re going ice-skating tonight at the indoor rink.”
Wheezer didn’t seem like the skating type. It was nice to see Amy bringing him out of his shell and the control room at CCM. He lived on computers and was a cyber genius. The things he could do with a computer were scary.
“That sounds fun. You ready to be done with school for the summer? Any big plans?”
Amy shook her head. “I’m spending it with my mom.”
“That’s great.” Cosette’s heart pinched. She’d give anything to go on a summer trip with her mom. To hug her or even hold her hand just one more time. “Enjoy the time you have. It’s precious.” And fleeting. If Mama had listened to Cosette and left Dad, she’d still be alive. But she was the textbook case of an abused wife. Cosette’s training and begging hadn’t been enough to save her—to convince her she could walk away.
Her phone rang. Her dad’s lawyer calling again. She ignored every single one. She didn’t care what he had to say. The phone beeped notifying her that she had a voice mail. She promptly deleted it without listening, as she had all of them in the past few months. She’d never forgive her father for what he’d done. Never betray her mother in that way.
The scripture that encouraged loving and forgiving your enemies needled her, but she ignored it.
Sorry, Lord, this one is too hard.
Wilder returned and Amy stood. “Back to work.”
He reclaimed his uninvited spot. “Okay, what time are we leaving Friday?”
Cosette snorted and sifted through a few ads, folding the ones she wanted and tucking them into her purse. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
“Other than the crew coming out to go Karate Kid on the house, I’m dead-free.”
“Painters or they’re kicking it down?”
Wilder didn’t bother to answer. He checked his phone. Sent a text. “Time?”
He wasn’t going to let it go. Why wasn’t he going to let it go?
Because she was a terrible liar. She knew all the tricks and she still stank at it. She was a fraud through and through, and Wilder was onto her. His intuition was practically perfect. Like some kind of otherworldly power. Probably what kept him alive on so many tours and SEAL missions. Too bad her intuition wasn’t that spot-on. She might never have been involved with Jeffrey—or numerous others before him.
The more she protested, the worse it would become. Wilder’s obsessive tendencies wouldn’t allow him to let up. But he wasn’t a sociopath or a narcissist. Actually, he was the only man she felt truly, completely safe with—physically. She didn’t trust her heart to anyone but herself these days. No getting out of th
is. Looked like she was stuck attending the reunion.
“Do we fly or drive?” she asked.
“Do we want to get there in less than two hours or less than seven?”
She didn’t want to get there at all. But if she was going to visit Mama’s grave, this was her sliver of opportunity. “Less than two. I’ll book a flight. Festivities start at seven.”
Wilder stood and lightly brushed her shoulder as he leaned down. “Wear your dancin’ shoes, darlin’,” he murmured, drawing out the endearment like he always did in a soft, Southern purr, then he left the café. She rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms.
This was a stupid and dangerous idea on so many levels.
* * *
Wilder didn’t believe a word that came out of the French Cajun’s mouth. A very kissable mouth coated in cherry red. Something in that stack of mail the other day had wigged her out and in the three years Wilder had known Cosette, very little scared her. He admired that—her strength and bravery. Her cool head and soothing voice, unless she had her dander up and then she’d go to town jabbering in French Cajun—not one word understandable, but he sure enjoyed watching it. Enjoyed watching her in general. Graceful. Poised. That long, brunette hair wavy and wild down her back. But that’s all he could do—admire and appreciate.
He didn’t date team members. But that wasn’t the main reason he couldn’t pursue his attraction to her. An attraction that had almost kept him from hiring her altogether. In that initial interview, there had been desperation in her eyes—like that of a wounded animal, horror-struck and terrified. Like she needed to come under his sheltering wings. So he’d said yes. Her credentials were top-shelf, but the pull toward her...that was visceral and scary. Wilder didn’t have the luxury of falling in love.
He had his people to protect and lead.
Clients who needed his attention.
And mostly, if he gave his heart away, he’d have to give it all, which meant transparency and honesty about his past. That was something he wasn’t willing to give. If Cosette knew the deep secrets he harbored, she’d lose all respect for him. All trust. That terrified him more than his attraction to her. So he kept her at arm’s length. But it wasn’t easy. And this weekend was a dumb idea, but something had her rattled and she’d barely spoken on the flight to New Orleans. Not taking two weekends off sent a red flag flying; she’d made sure she was at her mother’s grave every Mother’s Day since she’d taken the job. Had noted in her interview that it was important to her. She’d rather go to her reunion and swing by the gravesite a week early? Nope. He hadn’t bought it. Too bad he hadn’t gotten his hands on her mail. Federal offense, but Wilder wasn’t above crossing lines if it meant protecting the people he cared about.
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