Remembering it now, he entered the house and made his way to the bedroom in the dark. The owners were on vacation for another few weeks but he was there legitimately. The elderly couple was paying him to house sit while they were away. It was easy to charm them into believing he was a professional service. Nobody knew his real reason for being there but they would soon.
Closing the blinds tightly and pulling the blackout curtains closed, he turned on a single lamp and sat on the floor. Grabbing a stack of eight by ten papers, he carefully spread them out on the carpeted floor in front of him. Reaching into an envelope he pulled out the newest offering to his shrine, the same pictures he had taken with her cell phone. He chuckled to himself again before placing the now dead device on top of the photographs. Again, much too easy to obtain what he wanted. Last night, he waited until the soldier had gone to the restroom and paid a busboy ten dollars to drop a plate. While all attention was on the noise, he slipped her cell off the table where she had placed it and into his pocket. She hadn't even noticed it was gone.
Over the next twenty or so minutes, he lost himself in arranging and rearranging the pages until it was perfect. Leaning back, he let his eyes flicker over the three or so dozen photographs telling the story of his love, his obsession. He licked his dry lips and ran a finger over her face. So beautiful. He couldn't wait until she wore his marks and he painted her body with lines and slashes that wept crimson. He couldn't wait to see the tears coursing down her cheeks or the way her eyes would widen in knowing it was her final moments. The taste of her sweat would be intoxicating when it mingled with her fear. He closed his eyes and groaned. Pulling the purple dress to his face he inhaled but then frowned. It smelled of dust and the cedar of her closet; there was nothing left of her there. This annoyance would soon be taken care of. He would take her lotion, wash, and shampoo the next time he visited her house. He could saturate the fine cloth with her fragrance until he impregnated it with her blood. He had been so excited tonight. Not only did he manage to find the dress, he had also invaded her personal space for the first time. Laying upon the collage of photographs, he cuddled the dress and closed his eyes. "Joselyn, my sweet little Rose," he whispered reverently into the still room as he reached down his own body. Within moments, he had lost himself in the fantasies of the near future when his fingers would touch her, tease her, torture her.
Reduce her to her essence.
He moaned.
Joselyn was exhausted.
Today had gone far beyond normal. Met and greets always took a lot out of her. In addition to her typical physical weariness, the emotional roller coaster she had just endured added to the overall stress until even her toenails ached.
Curled under her favorite comforter, she hugged her pillow close and stared at the wall. Even as tired as she was, she wasn't sure she would sleep tonight, or ever for that matter. Pulling her knees to her stomach, she clutched the pillow tighter and buried her face into it. Here, in the solitude of her room, she could let go. One thing she had learned over the course of her life was tears could be cathartic. Therefore, she let them flow over her cheeks and disappear into the soft beige of her pillow.
The bed dipped and she screamed, pulling the pillow away and pushing against an immovable wall beside her. Panting, she balled her fist and pounded against the threat with all her might. Her wrists were caught and a soothing voice broke through the haze of terror.
"Shh, it's me, Joselyn, it's River. I heard you crying and wanted to check on you. It'll be okay."
She stilled and he let her hands go. Gulping a breath, she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly. He gently stroked her hair as the sobs broke loose in full force. While he held her, she cried for the life she had lost for so long and for her father and not getting the closure she so desperately needed. Thoughts of her mother and how badly she missed her added to her despair. Her turbulent career with all of its uncertainty haunted her as well. Every fear, concern, doubt, and anguished thought poured from her soul and onto River's shirt covered stomach.
They stayed that way for a while until the racking sobs turned to hiccupping whimpers and finally silenced. She drew back and laid upon the bed staring at the ceiling. She felt the bed shift and tissues from the box on her bedside table were pressed into her hand. With a grateful half-smile, she wiped her face. She knew she made one ugly crier.
"No, you don't."
She peeked over her hands. "Huh?"
He chuckled. "You said you make for an ugly crier. I don't think so. I think you are breathtakingly beautiful, wet eyelashes, red nose, pink cheeks and all." He smiled and cupped her cheek with his hand. "Stunning, even."
The red currently infusing her cheeks turned a deeper crimson. "I didn't know I said it out loud," she whispered. "I'm so embarrassed."
He smiled at her. "Don't be. You've been through allot lately. You were due to have a little breakdown. I'd be more shocked if you didn't." He wiped her tear-soaked cheek with one thumb. "I know of hardened soldiers breaking down for a lot less than you've been through. You are so strong and brave. I'm in complete awe over you."
They gazed at each other for a moment. He lowered his head toward her and her heart stuttered in her chest. This was it, the moment she had thought about and dreamed of for days. This was the moment when she would finally know what it felt like to kiss him. She sighed as he slipped his hand behind her neck and gently nudged her upwards until only a breath separated them.
Joselyn wasn't a complete prude. She had dated a few times, had a couple of boyfriends and one relationship which seemed to be heading toward something much more permanent. Those moments were all "before". Since that summer day when WitSec had appeared at her door and turned her life topsy-turvy, she had been living in a state of waiting. Waiting for her life to regain some control, waiting for her career to be where she wanted, even waiting for someone special to come along and sweep her off her feet. Now she waited on River to move the last quarter inch and take her lips with his.
He searched her face for a moment then let out a groan. She only had a second to wonder what he had seen before his lips pressed against hers. It was tender, sweet and exactly what she needed, all gentle pressure and soft pulls. Reluctantly he drew back and looked into her eyes again. Apparently, he liked what he saw, for one side of those sinfully sexy lips lifted in a smirk and he quickly dived in again.
Oh, sweet heavens!
The second kiss was not tender, slow and sweet. It was all power, demanding, and possessive. As he devoured her mouth, she moaned, parting her lips and he took the opportunity to dive inside, claiming that as well. His kiss was fire, incinerating her until she smoldered and ached.
He pressed her tighter against him, holding her close as if never wanting to let go. In his strong arms, all the fear and doubt evaporated until only overwhelming feelings of rightness remained. She snaked her arms around his neck, slipping her fingers into his hair, gripping tightly with one hand as the other curled around his broad shoulders. His left arm moved around her waist and pulled her into his lap once again. The moment continued, the two of them lost in each other until they couldn't think straight. Eventually, the kiss broke leaving them both panting. Closing her eyes, she threw her head back and was rewarded with kisses and nibbles down the column of her neck to her shoulder.
"Joselyn," he breathed against the tender flesh there.
"Maddox," she breathed his name. She clutched him tightly against her as his hand slid under her shirt and pressed against the skin of her back. His touch seared her to the bone and she wanted more, needed more. Raking her nails over his shoulder she dragged them over the broad expanse of his back to the hem before slinking underneath. He groaned again, eyes tightly closed.
Loving the reaction from him, she made herself a promise. From this moment on, she wouldn't call him 'River' again.
"I want you," he whispered against her chin and bit playfully. "I tried to stay away, tried to be strong. You have called me a Fr
ost Giant but around you, I'm not. When it comes to you, the ice shatters."
Her hands ghosted over his broad back, feeling the rough lines and planes intersected with what must be scars. What had he been through to have so many marks on his skin?
She was pulled back to the moment when his hand started to push her sleeping shirt up. Instantly, she stilled, putting a hand on his to stop him. When he looked at her quizzically she gulped. "I.. I can't. I'm sorry, I just... I can't."
He froze, hesitated and carefully tugged the shirt over her belly before replacing her back on the bed and putting some distance between them. He took a heaving breath and scrubbed the scruff on his chin. "I'm... Jeez, Joselyn, I didn't mean to get carried away. I didn't mean to push myself on you. I'm so sorry. It won't happen again, I swear. I thought... No, it doesn't matter what I thought. It was just you and me and... You seemed to want it as much as me. Damn, I'm sorry."
She shook her head with a little laugh and reached out, grabbing his hand. "No, oh gracious, no, goodness, no. You don't understand. It's not that I don't want you because I do. God, I do, so badly. It's not an issue of wanting but more that I haven't, well, you know." Her face flamed bright crimson.
"Oh." A light went on in his eyes as realization dawned. "Ohhh. You're a virgin. Cripes, of course, you are. Don't get me wrong but I wasn't expecting that. You are hot and sexy and in today's age..." He stopped as he recognized the hurt on her face. "No, there's nothing wrong with it but it's a little bit of a surprise. If you don't mind me being nosey, how have you waited this long?"
She swallowed. "It's all because of my Dad. He was a wonderful man and I was definitely a 'Daddy's Girl'. He always had time for me. I love both my parents, but he was special and he never failed to make me feel special." She turned her gaze to her hand. "When I turned twelve, we got dressed in our best clothes and he took me to dinner. It was a fancy place with a lot of different courses and all these selections of silverware, plates and such. After dinner, he gave me a ring." She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers showing him a tiny delicate silver band with two hearts set with jewels. "He told me it represented us."
River carefully took her hand and looked at the setting. "It's beautiful."
Joselyn smiled wistfully as she stared at the ring before continuing. "The heart with the sapphire is for him. It's large and protective of the smaller diamond sitting below and to the side. He told me that on one special day, he would watch proudly as this ring is replaced by another. He asked me to let him take care of my heart until the day my husband stepped in. It was so beautiful and special. I wear this ring every day to remind me to remain pure because the one I give my heart to deserves to know he is special to me. I want the person I marry to be my first and my last, my only. My father died before he could see my husband take this off my hand and replace it with his own. I've been tempted many times but when I see this ring, I remember a special night when a twelve-year-old Joselyn made a promise to her father."
He smiled and squeezed her hand tight. "I understand. I won't lie and say I haven't had my indiscretions but it doesn't mean I will judge you in any way. This is special. You deserve to have your dreams come true." Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed them to the palm and nuzzled it with his cheek. "So smart, talented, beautiful and driven. Knowing you want something special with your future doesn't drive me off. It makes you more alluring. The man to win your heart will be the luckiest man on this earth and I admit it. I envy him, whoever he may be."
Letting her hand go, he gently pressed her back to the pillow and pushed a lock of hair from her face. "Get some sleep. I'm going to go check the house and grounds again and call it a night. It's been one heck of a day."
She nodded and watched him ease out of her bedroom and down the hall. Drawing the cover to her chin, she turned on her side and stared at the door. Maddox had called the man she gave her heart to "the luckiest man on earth". He didn't realize that statement had been self-fulfilling. She had already given her heart away and the man retaining it was currently moving around the house below her.
She couldn't pinpoint the moment she had lost it to him but it didn't matter. She was his and nothing anyone could ever say could change the fact. Maybe it had started the first day in the diner when he stood there all silent and rugged. Perhaps it had been the dozen or so times since when she got a glimpse of the man he was inside. No, it didn't matter when it had but one thing was certain. It had solidified tonight when he held her as she cried. Understanding why waiting meant so much to her only made her even more sure of her own feelings toward Maddox. She looked at the purity ring encircling her finger. In one single action, he had cemented her to him in an unbreakable manner.
She was his.
Chapter 11
Maddox placed a cup of Joselyn's favorite hot chocolate on the warming pad by her computer and pressed a kiss to her temple. Snatching a green apple hard candy out of the bowl on her desk, he unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth. "I love these things. You've got me addicted to them."
She grinned and plucked one out of the bowl. Shaking it at him she shrugged. "These are my 'think rocks'. They help me focus. You keep eating them and someone is going to have to make a run down to the corner store for more. I am only a quarter of the way through and there are only a couple of dozen of these babies left."
He drew his brows together as if contemplating her words. With a shrug, he reached over and grabbed another. "If I must, I must. Whatever keeps you happy." Unwrapping it, he asked, "How're the editing going?"
"Surprisingly good. I think Tia has mellowed out. I can actually find whole passages she didn't mark up. Either I'm getting better, she's calming down or we are finally clicking. You should have seen my first book she edited. It looked like a crayon factory threw up on it."
He chuckled and dropped into the chair next to her desk, stretching his long legs out before him.
"I like how much calmer you look now. For a while there I was afraid the vein in your temple was going to burst. I swear it was doing the tango."
He settled his hands over his stomach as he happily sucked on the candy. "The house and grounds are secure. You are sequestered in your office where nobody can get to you. Fangasm in Atlanta isn't for another week and we have a bowl of Happy Orchard's candy to get us through today's editing. Life is good." He winked at her before glancing over to the three screens on the second desk behind her. "And there's Bull at the guard house. I'll go let him in." He eased out of the chair and placed another kiss on her cheek.
She tensed. "Detective Jameson is here?"
"He called a while ago and asked to come by. He has some updates on your case and thought it was safer for him to come here rather than for you to go see him."
She nodded and turned back to her computer. With a few clicks, she saved her work and slid her feet back into her flip flops. Padding down the hall, she waved at the detective as Maddox opened the door for him. "Detective, hello. Come in, please." She motioned toward the living room. "Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?" She smirked at Maddox, "Happy Orchard green apple candy?"
The last comment earned her a playful growl from her normally brooding bodyguard.
Detective Jameson either didn't hear her candy comment or ignored it. Instead, he declined the refreshments and motioned for her to sit. He looked frazzled. Joselyn frowned as her stomach churned. Whatever he had to say, she was pretty sure she wasn't going to like it.
He placed a folder on the coffee table before him and drummed his fingers on it. Blowing out a breath, he nodded to himself, leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. Without any preamble, he started.
"First off, I contacted a friend who knows computers inside and out. River, you remember Tex? He was on Wolf's team before getting medically discharged a few years back. You know he helps out with information from time to time so I asked him to check into her old cell. The phone wasn't used while it was missing. According to Tex, the only time the
cloud was accessed was at the restaurant and at the cell phone store. He put a watch on it for me but we both doubt that it will be turned back on so it can't be traced. Basically, it's a dead end."
"Damn," Maddox swore then apologized. "Sorry, Joselyn. What else do you have, Bull?"
" I've been working on her case for a while and I think I may have an idea who the stalker is. Now, it's not set in stone but due to certain circumstances, I have an idea. A damn good idea at that."
"Circumstances? What circumstances?" Joselyn frowned.
"Okay. Here goes." He mumbled under his breath. "Ms. Kendrik... Joselyn... I got to thinking about what you said. All through this, you have been very insistent this stalker had to be Douglas McClane. The only problem with your theory is Douglas McClane has been dead for more than a year now. There are reports of the shootout in the cemetery and crime scene photographs. We even obtained a positive identification by his last surviving relative, a cousin named Donavan Beecher, This brings me back to my theory. I'm pretty sure it's Beecher who is following you. I think he's trying to finish what McClane started."
Joselyn felt her stomach clench. Douglas McClane had a cousin. "A cousin?" she asked incredulously.
Detective Jameson opened the folder and pulled out several photographs. He turned one around and pushed it toward Joselyn and Maddox sitting side by side on the sofa. "This is Douglas McClane."
The photo was one she had seen many times before. It was the one most news outlets used during the trial. In the professional shot taken about eight years ago, McClane sat stiffly against a muted backdrop of mottled gray and dark blue. Wearing a buttoned dress shirt complete with tie and tie bar, he glared solemnly into the camera lens with a cold, calculating stare. As always, a chill raced up her spine. She knew he had been a high school literature teacher for years prior to his capture and conviction; that thought still scared the crap out of her. This cold-blooded, calculating, serial rapist and murderer had held influence over hundreds of impressionable young minds. It sickened her and she rubbed her arms to ward off the chills again racing along them before turning her gaze away.
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Joselyn (Kindle Worlds) Page 8
