The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  Her father picked up. “I’m sorry, Willow, but not yet.”

  She heaved a breath. “You know I hate having some stranger breathing down my neck.”

  “Did Murdock do something wrong?” the general asked. “I handpicked him because he’s one of my best soldiers. He’s dedicated to a fault.”

  Her breath hitched. If she said yes, he’d probably court marshal Max. As much as she wanted the sergeant gone from her house, he didn’t deserve that.

  After all, he was only following orders.

  “Tell me if he’s out of line, and I’ll pull him right now,” her father said.

  “No, Dad, it’s not that. It’s just…well, you know I like my privacy. And I’m not a child anymore.”

  “You’ll always be my little girl, Willow.” Uncharacteristic emotions tinged his voice. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

  He would play the guilt card. And the affection in his tone did stir her emotions. “Have you determined where the threat is coming from?”

  “No, but someone broke into my house last night.”

  Fear shot through her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. My men are looking into it. Now, honey, I’ve got to go.”

  He hung up without another word. Meaning she was stuck with Sergeant Sexy.

  And an unsettling feeling that someone really did want to hurt her father.

  Her chest tightened. He drove her crazy, but he was the only father she had.

  The only family she had left now her mother was gone.

  A quick glance at the clock reminded her to hurry or she’d be late for class. She tugged on jeans and a dark green silk blouse, wolfed down the bagel, then brushed through her hair. A little lip-gloss and powder and she was ready to tackle the day.

  Until she saw Max Murdock waiting for her. Dressed in jeans and a button down shirt, he looked even more handsome and tough.

  “I talked to my father. He said someone broke into his house last night.”

  Max’s look darkened. “So the threat is real.”

  “It appears that way.”

  “Was he hurt?”

  She shook her head. “No, but he was rattled by it.”

  He gave a clipped nod, but something in his eyes softened. “Don’t worry, Willow. He’s in good hands.” He brushed her arm. “And so are you.”

  Was she? Sure, he fought for his countrymen, and he would protect her. But she didn’t feel safe with him at all.

  Because she wanted those hands on her, touching her, comforting her, doing naughty things to her.

  Giving into any man meant taking a chance on losing her heart.

  Willow wouldn’t lose her heart to anyone.

  * * *

  Willow was a bundle of contractions.

  And possibly the most intriguing woman Max had ever met.

  Outside her apartment house, she paused to talk to an old man with gray hair who was painting the outside of the house. Max studied him for a moment. He had to consider everyone as a possible threat.

  But this guy was probably in his seventies and looked more grandfatherly than dangerous.

  “It’s going to look good, Ned,” she said with a flutter of her fingers.

  He looked down at her from his perch on the ladder although it was difficult to tell what he was looking at since one eye was cloudy and his ball cap shaded the other.

  “Glad to help Ms. Dora out.”

  Willow said good-bye, balking only slightly when he insisted on driving his SUV. He wanted to be in control and refused to leave her alone for a minute.

  But he also had to keep a low profile. The best way to catch a possible threat was to lay low, scope out the territory and allow the enemy to believe the target was vulnerable.

  He followed her through three classes—German, Russian and French—amazed at how serious she looked in the midst of class. Even wearing jeans and that silky top, she looked so sexy he could damn near eat her.

  Although on campus, she didn’t seem to be flirting. Gone was the sex siren with the honey-laced voice that had whispered naughty things on the phone with her lover. Err…or maybe lovers. After all, he had no idea who’d been on the other line of the phone calls he’d heard.

  In class, she was articulate, frantically took notes, and kept her attention focused on the instructor.

  Except…occasionally he noticed her glancing around and scanning the room as if she was nervous.

  Most likely, she was afraid the person threatening her father might be following her.

  He kept his gaze trained as well, searching for anyone who looked out of the ordinary. Someone watching Willow a little too closely.

  Someone who might be carrying a weapon or waiting to get her alone to ambush her.

  He had to treat this detail like any other mission. Surveillance might be key.In each class, he stayed at the edge of the room in the far corner and snapped photographs of the students.

  As her French class ended, a stocky man, probably thirties, with short clipped hair and intense eyes, approached her, his stance suggesting he was former military.

  He leaned close to Willow, talking in a low voice as they walked out of class together. Max ground his teeth as the man placed a hand at the small of Willow’s back. She looked up at him and laughed at something he said, and Max stepped into the hallway, far enough away so he wouldn’t attract the man’s attention.

  But close enough to see if he tried anything.

  Willow touched the man’s arm and nodded at something he said, then he gave her a hug.

  Just what was going on between her and this guy?

  After shooting Max a look that suggested she thought he was pond scum, she ducked into the ladies’ room.

  Max held post at the corner of the hallway so he could keep an eye on the bathroom door, and punched his friend Drew’s number. Drew worked with the military police.

  “I thought you were on leave,” Drew said.

  “I am. Well, I was. I’ve been assigned protective detail for the general’s daughter.”

  “Yikes.” Drew chuckled. “A rock and a hard place.”

  Yeah, the hard place was keeping his body in check. “You could say that. I’m running surveillance and planning to email you pictures of students in her classes. Run the faces through facial recognition software, and see if any names pop.”

  “Sure, I’ll get right on it.”

  “Check teachers, too, especially any visiting professors.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “And pay special attention to the first picture I’m sending you. This guy looks a little too cozy for comfort.”

  Max angled his head away from the bathroom door in case Willow emerged. He didn’t want her to hear his conversation.

  “And Drew, this is just between us, but check Willow out, too.”

  ‘What are you looking for?”

  “Boyfriends, lovers, anyone who’s gotten close to her in the last few months. If the person threatening the general has been planning this for a while, he could have an accomplice. Or he may have hired someone to insinuate himself in Willow’s life to waylay suspicion until he was ready to strike.”

  Maybe they’d get a lead and crack this case and he could salvage a few days of his leave.

  He needed it to get Willow out of his head.

  * * *

  Willow went stone still as a hand shoved her into one of the stalls. She tried to spin around and see who’d touched her, but a cold, gloved hand clamped over her mouth, and a breath brushed her cheek.

  “I love you, Willow? Do you love me, too?”

  Icy fear ran through her. He had her pinned against the wall, his body pressing hers so firmly she couldn’t move.

  “You are mine, baby. Always mine.”

  Terrified, Willow squirmed, desperate to reach her mace. But in their struggle, her purse fell to the floor and the pepper spray, tampons and Reese’s cups rolled into the other stall.

  “Say it, that you’re mi
ne.” He twisted her arm behind her back.

  “I’m yours,” Willow said, her teeth gritted against the pain.

  “Don’t forget that either. No more sexting with other men, or I’ll have to tell Daddy your dirty little secret.”

  One Night to Kill: Chapter Six

  Willow shuddered as the man trailed his tongue long her neck. “Remember what I said. You’re mine, baby.”

  He pressed her face against the wall, and she closed her eyes. “Who are you?”

  Footsteps sounded on the tile floor, another stall door clicked shut, then he pushed her again and darted out of the stall.

  Terrified and angry at the same time, she snatched her purse and the items that had fallen out, then ran from the stall. But the man had disappeared. She stumbled from the bathroom, swung open the door and scanned the hallway.

  A few students were milling about. Max stood in the corner on his phone. She wanted to run to him and tell him to look for the man who’d accosted her in the bathroom, but his threat echoed in her head.

  If she told Max, she’d have to explain what the man meant by his comments. Then he might tell the general.

  Almost as if Max sensed she was in trouble, he turned toward her, his forehead furrowed. She inhaled to calm her frantic heartbeat, and feigned a smile.

  But she must have failed to look convincing because he pocketed his phone and strode toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  Willow bit her lip. “Nothing.”

  Max gripped her arms with his hands. “Don’t lie, Willow. What happened?”

  She sighed. She couldn’t tell him everything, but that man had sounded dangerous. Almost as if he was obsessed with her. “A man grabbed me in the bathroom.”

  Max cursed, and jerked his head from side to side searching. “Where is he? Do you see him?”

  “No.” Willow shook her head. “I don’t know where he went. I thought maybe you saw him come out of the bathroom.”

  Self-recriminations darkened his eyes. “No…the phone…I was talking.” He coaxed her over by the walls. “I screwed up.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Willow said. “He came in the ladies room.”

  “I shouldn’t have taken my eyes off the door. Hell, I should have checked inside before you went in there.” He gently stroked her arms, his gaze worried. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She hated the warble in her voice. “He just pushed me into the stall and…”

  “And what?” Max’s eyes bore into hers. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No.” Willow shrugged. “But he sounded…sinister. He said I was his.”

  “His?”

  “Yes.” She shivered. “It was creepy, like he thought he owned me or something.”

  A muscle ticked in Max’s jaw. “He didn’t mention your father?”

  “No.” Because this wasn’t about him. It sounded personal…way too personal.

  “Did you recognize his voice?” Max asked.

  “No, it was muffled.” Shame and confusion washed over her. Even if she did, she couldn’t tell Max his name because her callers kept their identities anonymous just as the girls did.

  “How big was he? Was he clean-shaven? Did he have a beard?”

  Willow winced as he fired the questions at her. “I don’t know, I told you I didn’t see him.”

  He rubbed her arms, his voice low, soothing. “Willow, I know you’re upset and this is difficult, but close your eyes and let yourself go back to the moment.”

  That was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to forget the man’s hands and his voice. But Max was right, so she did as he said.

  If she figured out who he was, maybe she could take care of the problem herself.

  “What do you smell?”

  “Cleaner from the bathroom. Then…sweat.”

  “Good. You said he pushed you in the stall. Was he big? Heavy set? Tall and thin?”

  Fear tapped at her as the memory returned. “He wedged his leg between mine. And…his head…I felt his chin on my head.”

  “So he was taller than you, maybe a little under six feet.”

  She nodded. “His hands were cold. Hard.” She shivered. “And beard stubble. I felt it but…there wasn’t much.”

  “Good job.” He squeezed her hand, and she opened her eyes and looked into his. “You’re okay now,” Max said in a gruff voice. “He’s gone.”

  “I know.” She stiffened and stepped back from him, then folded her arms as if gathering her control.

  Max pivoted, his gaze scanning the walls and ceilings. “No security cameras in here. How about the bathroom?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Max coaxed her into the ladies room. “You can’t go in there,” Willow said.

  Max knocked loudly on the door and called out to see if anyone was inside.

  When no one answered, he, followed her and looked around. “No, no cameras.”

  “Well, I should hope not,” Willow said, shocked at the idea that he expected cameras in the ladies room. He obviously dealt with more sinister people than she did.

  Of course he does. He’s been fighting for his country. Protecting the nation.

  He probably considered watching her trite, an inconvenience.

  “Which stall?” Max asked.

  She pointed to the last one on the end, and he opened the door. It was empty. And the stall was surprisingly clean.

  He stooped and looked around the floor.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking to see if he might have left evidence behind.”

  Willow hitched out a hip, her gaze scanning the floor, but the only thing she saw was a tissue and a mint. Another memory broke through the haze. “He was wearing gloves.”

  “So no prints. Which means he planned the attack.”

  Willow shuddered.

  “Did his breath smell like a mint?” Max asked.

  Willow paused, struggling again to recall the details. The man’s cold gloved hand on her mouth. His body against hers. His tongue running along her jaw.

  “No.” She rushed past him and headed to the door. She needed air. Needed to forget that her father was in danger, and that a man had just accosted her.

  Were the two connected?

  Max caught her arm again as they reached the outside door. “Willow, I’m just trying to find out who frightened you.”

  Willow shook off his concern. “I’m fine, Max. And he didn’t hurt me. He was probably just some student trying to freak me out.”

  Which he had done. Because he wasn’t just some student.

  He knew her name. Knew about the phone calls she made at night. Knew where she attended class.

  Knew that the one person she wouldn’t want to know how she paid her bills was her father.

  * * *

  Willow was keeping secrets.

  Max drove her to the Pie Bar, an eclectic, trendy pizza place near the Georgia State campus, to meet her friend Lacy for lunch, keeping a safe distance as they walked inside.

  After listening to her phone calls the night before, he’d known she was hiding something, maybe a side of her personality or her life that she didn’t want him to know about. Maybe a lover or two.

  Most likely relationships she didn’t want Daddy Dearest to know about.

  Not that most young women her age wanted to share details of their love lives with their fathers. Most fathers probably didn’t want to hear the details either.

  Hell, most fathers didn’t want to even know their daughters had sex.

  He certainly couldn’t imagine Willow pouring out her heart to the general.

  Granted General Woods was a good man. An honorable one. One who took care of his men and would die for them, for his country, and for his little girl.

  But easy to talk to? Not among his commander’s skillset.

  Not among his either. Military men were strong, tough, unemotional. They had to be. Lives depended on it.

  Willow waved to a petite blonde with big g
reen eyes sitting across the room. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to leave.”

  “Don’t go anywhere alone,” he said in a low voice. “Not even to the ladies room.”

  She shot him a pointed look as if to say that she didn’t need a reminder. “Do you plan to hold the door for me while I pee?”

  The challenge in her eyes made him lift his chin. “If I have to.”

  A dozen emotions skittered across that expressive face before she dragged her gaze away. She hated losing her independence.

  But she was scared. And she hated that, too.

  Who had hurt her so badly that she didn’t trust men?

  “You might want to get some lunch while you’re here,” she tossed over her shoulder. “The pizzas are fabulous.”

  He gave her a clipped nod. Food wasn’t high on his priority. And he’d be damned if he took his eyes off of her again.

  Still, he could watch her from the bar.

  She sashayed across the room, weaving between the crowded tables, drawing dozens of lascivious looks from the males.

  Could her attacker have followed her here?

  Did she know who’d accosted her in the bathroom?

  Had the man said something that she didn’t want to tell him? But why would she keep the truth from him when it was obvious she was spooked?

  Maybe she did know the man and didn’t want to get him in trouble which meant he was someone important to her. That she cared about him. Maybe he was a former boyfriend or lover.

  Senses alert, he scrutinized each male who looked at her. One move toward Willow, and he’d take down the bastard.

  Willow tilted her head back and laughed at something her friend said, and his gaze latched onto the long slender column of her throat. Her skin looked so damn soft that he wanted to taste it.

  And that mass of red hair taunted him, made him want to dig his fingers in it.

  The bartender, a cute young brunette, leaned over the counter to take his order.

  He wanted a beer. But he was on duty, so he ordered a pizza and water. Not that he expected anyone to grab Willow in the middle of the restaurant, but if someone was stalking her, they could be watching now. Following her.