by Nina Bruhns
Max caught her arm before she threw the lamp at him. “Stop, Willow, it’s not like that. I’m trying to protect you—”
“You’re spying on me,” she shouted. “Where is it, Max? Where’s the bug?”
“Willow—”
She checked below the sofa. Nothing. Then she rushed to her bedroom and searched the room like a mad woman. Nothing on the lamp. Or under the mattress.
She dropped to her knees and checked the bedside table.
“Oh. My. God.” There it was. Rage flooded her. “You son of a bitch.” She flung the thing at him.
“Willow, listen—”
She stood and slammed her fists against his chest knocking him backwards. “Is that the reason you enlisted a security consultant? To add more bugs and cameras?” Emotions overcame her. “I trusted you, Max.”
He caught her hands in his and forced them to her side to keep her from hitting him again. “Willow, I’m sorry, I just want to help—”
Tears gathered in her throat and clogged her eyes. “I don’t want your help. Get out.”
His dark gaze latched with hers. “I can’t do that.” Teensy must have sensed something was wrong and ran toward him with a hiss. The crazy cat was going to attack him!
“You can and you will.” Willow grabbed his arm and hauled him through the living room to the back door then shoved him outside. “Leave and don’t come back. If you do, I’ll call my father and tell him that you came onto me.”
Fire lit his eyes. “You wouldn’t do that?”
“Don’t bet on it.” She slammed the door in his face, then burst into tears. How dare that arrogant man.
Her BCP trilled, and she froze. It was time for her to work tonight, but she wasn’t in the mood.
But maybe she would meet Lacy for drinks and dancing.
Anything to distract her from thinking about Max Murdock and the havoc he was playing in her life..
She hurried to answer the phone. She’d make this call short and head to the bar..
But the heavy breathing on the other end of the line made her go cold inside. “Did you get my present, Willow?”
One Night to Kill: Chapter Nine
“Who is this?” Willow asked.
“The man who loves you, the one you’re supposed to be with.”
Willow’s fingers tightened around the phone. She didn’t like this game. “How can I be with you if you don’t tell me your name?”
“There’ll be time for that later. Did you like the panties?”
Willow sucked in a deep breath. Maybe she should play along and he’d reveal something about himself that would clue her in to his identity. “Yes, they’re lovely.”
“Will you wear them for me?” he murmured.
A frisson of fear danced up Willow’s spine. She wanted this over, but this man knew her name and her address.
“Not until you tell me who you are and how you found out where I live.”
“What difference does it make?” he asked, a sharp note to his voice. “You talk dirty to other men. I want you to talk like that to me.”
Whether Max was listening or not, she couldn’t do it. Not tonight. Not knowing that this man could be close by?
She rushed to her bedroom window and looked at the night sky. Was he out there now? Watching her?
She’d heard stories about men with obsessions who stalked their victims for months, even years. Men who thought they were in love but who snapped if the woman they were fixated on refused their advances.
Was this man dangerous, or just another one of the callers she dealt with who had a strange fetish?
Suddenly those fetishes and phone calls didn’t seem so innocent anymore.
“I have to go.” She ended the call abruptly, then stowed the phone in her desk drawer and grabbed her keys.
She had to talk to Ms. Dora. It was time she got out of the business.
* * *
Max cursed himself a thousand times over. He had royally screwed up with Willow.
If the general discovered that he’d made a mess of this mission, he would probably destroy him.
Self-disgust chewed at his insides. He’d handled undercover recon jobs without breaking a sweat, but watching Willow was tying him in knots. And now she was upset with him, she might be even more vulnerable.
He slid into his SUV, keeping guard over the apartment house, and phoned Drew. He needed this situation resolved so he could leave town, certain Willow was safe.“Anything on the threat to the general?”
“MP officer assigned to investigate believes the threat is related to Dovetail.”
Max’s pulse clamored. That was the mission that had gone awry. They’d lost three fellow soldiers.
Their deaths would always haunt Max.
“Go on.”
“They’re looking into the families who lost soldiers.”
“Josie Trenton, Carl Muir, and Latrine Johnson.” He’d tried to save them that fatal day and failed. It was a wonder any of the unit had survived.
Max understood the pain the families suffered. Was one of them angry enough to want revenge?
“There’s always the possibility that one of the men or women who came up under the general has a beef against him. We’re checking out that angle as well.”
“I’m going to text you a couple of names to investigate,” Max said.
“Suspects?”
Max scraped a hand over his jaw, the coarse beard stubble reminding him he needed to shave. “Let’s just say they’ve shown interest in Willow.” He started to mention the surprise package but didn’t want to explain. That package might have nothing to do with the threat against General Woods.
“Cross check them with any family members or friends of the Trenton’s, Muir’s and Johnson’s.”
“Copy that. By the way, how’s the babysitting?”
Max saw Willow’s silhouette through the window. With the moonlight glowing against the sheer curtains, he could see her outline as she peeled off her clothes. Dammit, he needed to tell her to hang blackout curtains.
Any Peeping Tom could watch her from here.
“Max? I asked how it’s going.”
“Fine.”
“I feel bad for you, man. Stuck there when you were supposed to be on vacation. I saw a picture of Woods’ daughter when she was a teenager. What a geek.”
“Yeah,” Max said, an image of Willow wearing that lace underwear flashing behind his eyes.
“Is she as difficult as the general?”
The difficult thing was not touching her. “You can say that again.”
“I’ll get right on those names. Maybe we can solve this and get you out of there in time for some fun.”
He hoped to hell so. He needed a hot night with a warm body to make him forget the hot body in the window.
They ended the call, and Max sent Drew Benny and LaRue’s names, then straightened as he spotted the apartment owner, little Ms. Dora, in the kitchen.
Damn, anyone could see into that bottom floor window. Willow appeared beside her, the two of them bending their heads together as they talked.
He leaned forward, studying Willow, and realized she was upset about something. Was she telling Ms. Dora what he’d done?
The temperature outside was smothering, storm clouds rumbling above. No wonder they called the city Hotlanta. The humidity was a killer.
Not wanting to suffocate or sweat to death in his car, he spied the screened-in front porch with the overhead ceiling fans.
He could cool off there and be close enough to hear if Willow decided to leave or if someone tried to break in.
Stowing his weapon inside his jeans, he slipped from the SUV and crept up to the porch. Willow had probably told Ms. Dora to run him off with her baseball bat if she saw him, so he’d just lay low out here.
Then neither of them would ever know he was still on the premises.
* * *
Willow hated to rock the boat with Dora and the other girls, but she had to
talk to them. “Ms. Dora, I—we—have a problem.”
“Is it that nice young man?” Dora’s eyes twinkled. “You know I don’t think he’s gay, Willow. I saw the way he looked at you. His eyes were practically smoldering.”
Smoldering? More like devious. “It’s not about him…well, not exactly.” She was botching this. “It’s about the business.”
“What about it? I thought you were getting a lot of calls.”
“I am,” Willow said. “But our personal identities are supposed to be protected.”
“They are,” Dora said. “I set up the security system myself.”
In spite of her age and granny status, the older woman was a bit of a computer whiz.
Ms. Dora laid some Girl Scout cookies on a plate and offered Willow one. She snatched a Thin Mint and popped it in her mouth. The next best thing to a Reese’s.
Which was the next best thing to sex.
Ms. Dora poured herself a finger of scotch and took a sip. “Did something happen with one of your callers, Willow?”
“Yes. One of them knows my real name.”
Ms. Dora’s eyes widened beneath her thick wire-rimmed glasses. “When did this happen?”
“Last night.” Willow snitched another cookie, then accepted the shot of scotch Ms. Dora poured her. “And someone jumped me in the bathroom stall on campus, and threatened to expose what I was doing. Then I found a box on my doorstep. Black lace underwear.”
Ms. Dora dropped into the chair at the table. “So this man not only knows your real name but your address.”
Willow nodded, turned the scotch up and downed it, grateful for the slow burn of alcohol to replace the burn of anger that had been eating at her after she’d discovered Max’s bug in her bedroom.
“Let me call a powwow with the other girls.” Ms. Dora plucked her cell phone from her apron pocket and punched a number.
Willow paced to the front window and looked outside, still debating on whether or not to beg off the club with her friend tonight. In light of the fact that she might have a stalker, clubbing didn’t seem like the smartest idea.
She thought she heard a noise on the porch and glanced to the right side where the swing hung, but didn’t see anyone. Still, the swing was moving back and forth.
It had to be from the wind. A storm was brewing, one of the notorious thunderstorms the south was known for.
Tornado season had passed, but summer lightning storms could be deadly.
“The other girls are on their way,” Ms. Dora said. “Yvonne can’t make it because she’s out of town, but Sue Kim and Maybelline will be here in a minute.”
Willow walked over and patted Ms. Dora’s hand. “I’m sorry, Ms. Dora. I’ve racked my brain to figure out if I might have slipped somehow and used my name, but I know I didn’t. I’ve always been extremely careful about that because of my father.”
Worry riddled the older woman’s face making her look older than her seventy-six. “Do you think this man is dangerous?”
Willow considered the tone of his voice and her conversation with Max. Even if a man started with a simple infatuation, once it turned into an obsession, it could escalate into a dangerous attraction.
Maybe she shouldn’t have hung up on the man earlier. No telling what he might do now that she’d rebuked him.
* * *
Max belly crawled across the porch floor toward the window, feeling like a criminal for eavesdropping on Willow’s conversation. But he had to learn what she was keeping from him.
He steadied the swing with one foot. Good grief, she’d almost caught him. If she was mad about the bug, knowing he was lurking outside the window would really set her off.
Not that it mattered. His job was not to tiptoe around her feelings. It was to keep her pretty little butt safe.
Period.
And keeping her alive did not entail touching that pretty little butt no matter how much his hands itched to do so.
He propped himself in a half sitting position against the wall of the house below the window. Funny how the older woman had central air conditioning, but still liked to keep windows cracked for fresh air. She’d probably grown up during the Depression, was most likely living off Social Security and was a coupons cutter.
Did her grandson help her out financially?
Two women’s voices he didn’t recognize echoed from inside, then Willow and Ms. Dora greeted them by name. He crept up an inch to peer in and realized it was two of the other tenants.
Sue Kim, a tiny Asian girl with dark glasses, and Maybelline, a brunette with thick eyebrows that puckered into a frown that looked permanent.
“What’s wrong?” Sue Kim tossed her backpack on a chair. “You said it was urgent.”
Ms. Dora motioned for the women to sit, and when she’d handed them each a drink, cleared her throat. “We may have a problem with the business security.”
Max frowned. What business?
“You know I’ve done everything possible to secure the phone lines and to make the house a safe environment.”
“And we appreciate that,” Maybelline said.
“Thank you.” Ms. Dora drummed her bony fingers on the table. “You girls are like my family. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety. That’s always been a priority.”
“We know that,” Sue Kim said. “And we feel safe here.”
“What’s this about?” Maybelline asked.
“It’s about me.” Willow’s voice sounded strained. “I think someone breached our security. One of my callers knows my name and address.”
Max went bone still, the undertones of their conversation striking an uneasy feeling.
“Maybe you slipped and told the client your name,” Sue Kim said.
“Did you?” Maybelline asked.
“No.” Footsteps clattered, and Max realized Willow was pacing. “I’ve been extremely careful. I only use pet names, and speak with the clients on the business phone, not my personal cell.”
Sweat broke out on Max’s brow. He’d heard Willow talking sexy but…he’d thought she was talking to a boyfriend.
And that woman named Maybelline had used the word client?
He peered into the room again. Ms. Dora opened the cookie jar and dug out a wad of cash.
“Willow, if you’re scared, take this money and go somewhere for a few days until I can find out how our security was breached. I won’t have any of my girls living in fear because of our business.”
Max stared at the wad of bills. A few minutes ago he’d been worried that the woman was living on limited funds, but she was rolling in the dough.
Because of “her girls.”
Dear God. Was sweet little Ms. Dora running some kind of brothel or escort service?
And was Willow part of it?
One Night to Kill: Chapter Ten
Shock bolted through Max. He’d been in the military too long if sweet little grandmothers were turning into pimps.
And what would the general say if he knew his one and only daughter, his beloved princess, was getting paid to…have sex with strangers?
Was she having sex with them? Maybe it was a legitimate escort service.
Yeah, right.
Thunder rumbled outside, a streak of lightning zigzagging across the porch. He nearly jumped and banged his leg on the swing, sending it rocking back and forth.
Footsteps clattered, and he pressed himself against the wall and held his breath. He could feel the air stirring, hear the whisper of a woman’s breath.
“What is it?” Ms. Dora screeched.
He slunk lower against the wall.
“I don’t see anything. Must be the wind from the storm brewing,” Willow said.
Thank God.
“Have either of you had problems with clients?” Ms. Dora asked.
“Not me,” Sue Kim said.
“Me either,” Maybelline replied. “But whoever did this may have all our information. I don’t like that.”
Ms. Dora’s vo
ice rose. “I’ll find out who breached our system and how they learned your name, Willow. If they tapped into all our files, then I’ll shut down and start up anew.” She spewed a string of obscenities that scalded Max’s ears.
He’d thought southern women were supposed to be sweet and charming—not that she wasn’t on the surface, but there was obviously another side to Ms. Dora.
And from Willow. So far he’d seen sexy, feisty, smart and strong—all adjectives he admired. All qualities that made Willow so alluring.
“Willow, think,” Maybelline said. He could easily discern her voice from Sue Kim’s because Maybelline’s was thick with a strong South Carolina drawl. “Did you tell one of your dates about the business?”
“No,” Willow said emphatically. “I keep my personal life and job completely separate.”
Her job? That’s what she called it?
What would Daddy think about her occupation? No wonder she hadn’t wanted him in her place. Now he understood her reaction to the bug he’d planted.
“Maybe you had your business phone in your purse at a bar or restaurant and left it at the table while you went to the ladies room and whoever you were with looked at it,” Sue Kim suggested.
“That’s a possibility,” Maybelline said. “I mean, I keep mine with me at all times, but it would be easy to do. And your date could have looked at it—”
“I did not leave my business phone at a bar or restaurant table,” Willow said emphatically. “I never take it with me to class or when I go out. And I always handle my clients at night in my apartment.”
Pure steam oozed from Max’s ears. He did not want to hear this. Or keep this secret from his commander.
Although he had heard Willow’s conversation first hand.
How would he survive another few days of her sensuality without touching her?
He wouldn’t. Not with his sanity intact.
He yanked his phone from his pocket, then texted Drew asking him to investigate Dora and her apartment gang. He’d find the skinny on her and see if one of her clients was stalking Willow.
