The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  Waiting until the right moment to strike again.

  This time, he’d be ready.

  * * *

  Willow was ready to call a halt to this protective detail. Knowing Max was watching her every minute made her so self-conscious she kept fidgeting. And wondering if she had something between her teeth or if her hair looked okay, or if he liked what he saw.

  She shouldn’t care if he liked what he saw.

  But darn it, she did.

  Lacy threw a saucy look over her shoulder, one in Max’s direction, and fiddled with the mini binoculars in her lap.

  Willow gaped at her. Lacy had been spying on them when they’d entered. ‘I can’t believe you really use those things, Lacy.”

  Lacy shrugged and jammed the binoculars in her purse. “I have to. You know I’m half blind.”

  “Just because you hooked up with that two-bagger that night at the bar doesn’t mean you’re blind. You were just wearing beer goggles.”

  “Well, that’s true,” Lacy admitted. “But your sergeant certainly doesn’t need a bag. He could be on a poster to recruit women.”

  Willow made a sound of disgust. Of course he could!

  “You are going to sleep with him, aren’t you?” Lacy asked.

  Willow pretended innocence. “Sleep with him?”

  Lacy elbowed her. “Well, you probably won’t sleep, but I bet he’s a killer lover.”

  “Who, Sergeant Sexy?” Oh, heavens, had she really said that loud?

  Lacy laughed and sipped her cosmo. “Yes, Sergeant Sexy.”

  “No. Definitely not.” Willow stared into her lemon drop willing it to give her courage. She could practically feel her bodyguard’s eyes burning her skin

  His hands on her.

  She fanned her face. Lordy, lordy, it was warm in here.

  “Why not?” Lacy didn’t bother to hide the fact that she was ogling the sergeant. “He’s the yummiest man I’ve ever seen you with.”

  Willow pushed her salad around on her plate with her fork, then reached for a slice of pizza. To heck with eating healthy. She had raging hormones to tame, hungers to feed.

  “First of all, we’re not together,” she said pointedly. “Second, he’s only here as a precaution because someone threatened my father.” Although she had been grateful he was close by when she’d exited the bathroom after her visitor. “And third and most important of all—”

  “I know. He’s military.”

  “Military and he works for my father.” Two strikes against him.

  Lacy picked a pepperoni off the pizza and popped it into her mouth. “True. But he doesn’t work for my father.”

  Willow splashed a drop of her martini on her hand, battling a sliver of jealousy. Which was ridiculous when she had no right to be jealous. It wasn’t like she was involved with the man.

  And even if she was interested, which she so was not, all the reasons for avoiding any kind of intimacy with him still stood like a giant brick wall that she didn’t intend to scale.

  Although it would get her father’s gall if she slept with Sergeant Murdock.

  She searched for more excuses to appease her friend. “Teensy doesn’t like him either.”

  Lacy chuckled. “That cat is psycho. He’s just marking his territory.”

  “Well, it has just been the two of us for a while.”

  “I’d take the sergeant over a cat.”

  But pets were devoted to their owners. And cats couldn’t break your heart.

  Oblivious to her thoughts, Lacy continued giving a complete rundown on Max’s physical attributes.

  “His eyes are the deepest brown I’ve ever seen, kind of like dark whiskey. And I bet his muscles even have muscles, and those hands…they look strong, but tender, and he could do wicked things with them—”

  “Good grief, Lacy,” Willow stammered. “You sound like you’re going to jump his bones right here.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” Lacy said with a devilish sound to her voice. “What do you think he’d do if I just happened to walk by and um…fell in his lap?”

  Willow rolled her eyes, biting back the urge to scream a big fat stay away at her friend.

  Lacy shrugged. “I mean, since you’re not interested, you wouldn’t mind if he and I hooked up, would you?”

  Willow waved a hand as if dismissing the idea. “He’s only in town a week, Lacy. And I get the distinct impression he’s not interested in a girlfriend.”

  “Who said anything about long term or girlfriend? I just want the guy in bed for a night. I need adventure—”

  “Stop,” Willow said, the image of her friend and the sergeant in bed together grating on her nerves.

  Lacy tilted her head to the side and wrinkled her nose. Willow fidgeted. Ate another bite of pizza. Spilled more of her drink.

  Good grief. She couldn’t afford to waste a ten-dollar martini!

  All the time Lacy said nothing. Drat. She always had a way of staring at Willow and seeing right through her.

  “You liar you,” Lacy finally said. “You so want this man for yourself.”

  “I do not.” Willow dabbed at a drop of perspiration on her forehead. It was summer in Atlanta. Was the air conditioner broken? Or maybe someone had accidentally flipped on the heater.

  Lacy laughed again. “You do,” she said smugly. “You can’t lie to me, Willow. We’ve been friends since grade school.”

  Of course, she could lie. She had to lie. Because admitting that she wanted Max was dangerous.

  * * *

  Willow was driving him absolutely insane.

  At least three different guys had stopped to flirt with her and her friend, the waiter included. She was a damn man magnet.

  A sexy little bombshell who seemed to have no idea how potent her eyes were, or how seductive that innocent smile could be.

  He was in deep shit.

  Finally she and her friend finished lunch, an hour and a half of pure torture for him as he watched Willow lick the sugar from the rim of her martini glass while pretending he was invisible.

  As she paid the bill, yet another man approached her. Max recognized this one as her French teacher, Professor LaRue. The man was tall and slender, dressed in an impeccable gray suit, used his hands to talk and his eyes to undress Willow.

  Max had a strong urge to tell the asshole to back off right now. But his military training kicked in, and he forced himself to observe instead. The first thing a soldier learned was to assess the enemy.

  Willow’s friend hugged her good-bye, then raced to the door as if she was late for something.

  But she gave him a finger wave as she passed.

  Max acknowledged her with a small nod, gritting his teeth as Willow laid a hand on LaRue’s arm and said something to him. He wished to hell he could hear the conversation.

  Maybe he should plant a bug on her clothes.

  Of course, she would kill him if he did that. And even he had to admit, that might be going too far.

  LaRue tucked a card in her hand, one Max assumed listed his home phone, and squeezed her arm, lingering a little too long. Max shifted, tossed some cash onto the bar to pay for his bill, then strode toward her.

  If the man tried to make her leave with him, he’d beat his brains out.

  But Willow noticed Max coming toward her, and gave him a warning look to keep his distance.

  Did she have something going with this scrawny man?

  Was LaRue her type?

  The general’s request to keep her safe echoed in his head, and he ignored her warning. Keeping her safe meant fending off men like LaRue, men who wanted in her pants.

  He couldn’t let the general down.

  He was the only man who’d ever done anything for Max. A man he respected and owed his life to.

  The very reason he would not give into the temptation Willow presented and touch her himself.

  But he’d be damned if he let anyone else manhandle her.

  He cleared his throat as he approached, t
hen folded his arms. “Are you ready, Willow?”

  LaRue pivoted, his fingers still lingering on Willow’s arm. A frown marred his symmetrical features, features that were a little too perfect for Max to trust him.

  “One minute,” Willow said, her expression ranking him lower than pond scum now. Maybe fungus.

  LaRue looked back and forth between them. “Willow?”

  “He’s a friend of my father’s,” Willow said as if that fact made him less than human.

  LaRue nodded and extended his hand. “Professor James LaRue.”

  Max simply stared at his hands. Pussy hands.

  He straightened and directed his gaze toward Willow. “We need to go.”

  She pinched her lips together as if she wanted to spit at him, then gave LaRue a peck on the cheek. “I’ll talk to you later, James. Maybe we can have that drink another time.”

  Steam oozed from Max’s pores. So she was interested in this weasel in a suit. That was her type?

  Well, he’d be gone in seven days—six now—and she could have him. He didn’t give a damn.

  By then the MP should have figured out the threat to her father and she wouldn’t be his problem anymore.

  * * *

  “That bodyguard General Woods assigned to his daughter is a problem.”

  “Who is he?”

  “His name is Sergeant Max Murdock. He’s military. Special Forces.”

  A litany of curse words spewed from the man on the other end of the line. “That means he’s trained. And if he works for the general, he might also be responsible for what happened.”

  A tense moment passed, the ramifications staggering. “Then you want him dead?”

  “Maybe. For now, watch them. I’ll let you know when the time is right.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes.” A sardonic laugh. “The general not only has to pay. He has to suffer.”

  One Night to Kill: Chapter Seven

  Max followed Willow to the car, feeling like a lap dog being told to heel.

  “You didn’t have to be rude to my professor,” Willow said as she slid into the passenger side of his rented SUV.

  He held her door open for a moment, his gaze surveying the parking lot in case someone was watching them. A black sedan a few parking spaces down caught his eye, but he couldn’t see the driver. “I’m not here to play nice with your boyfriends,” Max bit out.

  Suddenly infuriated at the situation, he shut her door, strode around to his side and climbed in.

  Willow angled herself toward him, a smile curving her mouth. “Who said he’s my boyfriend?”

  Max started the engine and pulled from the parking lot onto the street leading to the interstate. “You were flirting and agreed to have a drink with him.” She started to say something, but he threw up a hand to cut her off. “Not that I care who you mess around with, but we do have to discuss your boyfriends and lovers.”

  She gaped at him. “No, we don’t.”

  “Yes, we do,” he said matter-of-factly. “If the person threatening your father has been planning this for a while, he could have insinuated himself into your life as a friend or boyfriend or a teacher to get close to you.“

  “You can’t honestly think Professor LaRue is dangerous,” Willow said.

  LaRue might not be out to get her father, but he wanted Willow, and that made Max dislike him.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Winning your trust would be the best way for a perpetrator to keep an eye on you until he’s ready to strike.”

  Fear darkened her face for a moment, then she turned to look out the window and lapsed into silence as he wove onto the interstate.

  He let her brood while he maneuvered the busy highway. He didn’t particularly want to hear about her lovers any more than she wanted to tell him about them, but it was a necessary evil for him to do his job thoroughly. If he let one guy slip through that was dangerous, the general would never let him forget it.

  And by God, she wasn’t going to sleep with Professor Sleezeball with the fake charm. Or fake accent. Hell, for all he knew the man wasn’t even French.

  And even if he was French, he wasn’t good enough for Willow.

  He needed to look at that list from Drew.

  He glanced at Willow from the corner of his eye, his gut tightening at the forlorn look on her face. “I’m sorry for frightening you,” he said, his voice gruffer than he intended.

  She released a tired sigh. “I know you’re just following orders,” Willow said. “But you just can’t charge into my life and go all ape-He-man on me.”

  Ape-He-man? “I’m not trying to do that,” he said. “But I am trained—”

  “To spot devious boyfriends?” Willow crossed her arms beneath her breasts which only accentuated them.

  He dragged his gaze away. “To spot a possible threat.” Reminding himself of that fact made him check the rearview mirror. He spotted a black sedan, one that looked identical to the one in the Pie Bar parking lot, a few cars behind. Odds were that it was nothing.

  But what if that car was following them?

  “You know I’m beginning to think my father isn’t in danger at all,” Willow said. “That he sent you here on a spy mission to find out if I was seeing anyone.”

  “Your father wouldn’t do that. He has more important things to take care of.”

  “Yes, his work has always been more important than me or our family.”

  A long second passed. “Maybe he doesn’t show it, Willow, but he told me that you are the most important person in the world to him.”

  Emotions twisted her face. Max cut around a VW in front of him and veered into the right lane. He checked the rearview mirror again and saw the sedan move to the middle lane two cars back. Close enough to follow him but not to draw suspicion?

  “Maybe he cares in his own way. But he did sic spies on me in high school.”

  Max frowned. “You’re exaggerating.”

  “No, I’m not.” Willow tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Damn, he wanted to run his hands through it and tangle it around his fingers while he made love to her.

  Oblivious to the fact that she was tormenting him, Willow continued. “My first kiss was broken up by one of his goons. And my first date…well, the poor guy was so scared after Dad’s hired hand cornered him in the men’s room that he switched schools.”

  Max winced.

  “Then he hired a bodyguard to follow me to Homecoming.”

  “He must have had a reason,” Max said.

  “Oh, he did,” Willow murmured. “He didn’t want me losing my virginity.”

  Max gripped the steering wheel tighter. “You were young.”

  Willow hissed. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those sexist types, too?”

  “No, of course not,” Max said, although he could understood her father not wanting her to jump in bed with any Tom, Dick, or Harry. “But I’m sure the general simply wanted you to wait until you found the right guy.”

  “Like you men wait to have sex until you find the woman you want to marry?” Willow said with an eyebrow raise.

  She had him there. “What happened?”

  “The bodyguard followed us to the river and dragged me from the car like he was a Neanderthal. It was humiliating.”

  “Well, that is not what’s happening here,” Max said. “Trust me, there is a threat against your father or I wouldn’t have come.”

  “You mean if he asked you to investigate my love life, you’d actually defy his orders? Because I know my father. If you did, he’d bury you.”

  Sweat rolled down the side of his face. She was right.

  “I thought so.” Disgust laced her voice, and she turned to stare out the window again.

  Dammit. He needed to ask about those boyfriends, but she thought he’d report it back to her father. And just because he had to follow her father’s orders didn’t mean he was chicken shit, or that he liked invading her privacy.
r />   Or that he was a tattletale.

  Max braked as traffic came to a stop on the interstate. Tires screeched behind him, and he glanced up, bracing himself as a truck nearly crashed into them. He’d heard traffic in Atlanta was a nightmare and understood the complaints now.

  The expressway was a parking lot ahead of them. And that black sedan was still on their tail. Tinted windows hid the driver, making him tense as the sedan slipped another car length closer.

  Good grief. They were sitting ducks in this mess.

  Except if the person in the car did strike, he’d be caught in the traffic, which would impede his escape.

  Max swerved to the right onto the shoulder of the road and headed up the exit ramp.

  One look back, and he saw the sedan trying to weave to the ramp as well, but another car cut him off.

  Max’s chest tightened. That car had been following them.

  So someone was watching Willow. Which meant she was in danger and he had to be on his toes.

  And banish any thoughts of taking her to bed.

  * * *

  “What are you doing?” Willow asked as Max sped up the exit.

  “Getting out of that traffic,” he said. “Someone was following us.”

  Willow clenched the seat. “What?”

  He veered down a side street, using the GPS to find another route to her apartment. “A black sedan. I saw it at the restaurant, then on the interstate. He tried to exit when I did.”

  Willow glanced over her shoulder, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “You’re sure?”

  He clenched his jaw. “I’m afraid so.”

  Her breathing rattled between them. “Then there really is a threat against my father?”

  “There really is,” he said. “I work Special Forces, Willow. Your father wouldn’t send me here on a fishing expedition regarding your love life.”

  Willow swallowed back a retort. She probably shouldn’t have accused him of that. But he was military, and if her father had asked him to do that, he probably would have.

  God knows the military guys wanted to please her father. Enough so that Tatum Irkley had cozied up to her thinking it would be a way into her father’s good graces – and a promotion.