The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  The thought of losing her terrified him.

  Knowing her and her father’s pleas hadn’t worked, and that he couldn’t wait for back up, he clenched his weapon at the ready and stepped from the shadows of the doorway.

  “Put the gun down, Muir.”

  The brawny man swung his gaze toward Max, and jerked his gun toward Max. “Get the hell out of here.”

  “No way,” Max said. “You see, I was with your father when he died.”

  The room went so still that Max heard the tension crackling in the air. Heard Hal’s boots squeak as he pivoted. Heard Willow’s labored breathing.

  “You want to know what happened,” Max said. “Let Willow and her father go. I’m the one you want to talk to.”

  “No one is going anywhere,” Hal said, using Willow as a shield. “Now start talking.”

  Memories crashed back, painful and disjointed.

  “Our unit was sent in to rescue a commander being held prisoner in enemy camp,” he began.

  “And you were the only one who survived,” Hal said in a nasty voice.

  Actually Rocky and Dane had. But they hadn’t been on the front line.

  “I was shot, but yes, I did make it. And I tried to save your father.” Emotions thickened his throat. “I swear I did.”

  “They knew you were coming?” Maybelline asked, her voice strained.

  Max nodded. “They must have had lookouts at points on the way. Your father was running point on the mission. He went first. I took the rear. Once we got in, I was supposed to diffuse the bomb.”

  “But when they were ambushed, you ran,” Hal said.

  Max shook his head. “No. Our team managed to take out most of the men at the camp before one of them threw a grenade and killed two of ours. Your father was shot in the attack. I dragged him behind a supply truck and tried to keep him alive, but he was losing blood fast.”

  Maybelline wiped at tears while Hal remained cold, his eyes pinning Max with contempt. “You let him die to save yourself.”

  A helpless feeling washed over Max. “I didn’t let him die, but I couldn’t save him either,” Max said, his voice raw as he remembered the sound of Carl’s last breath wheezing out.

  “Did he say anything before he died?” Maybelline asked.

  Regret rolled through Max. “He said to tell you both that he loved you. Then…he told me to complete the mission.”

  Maybelline choked on tears, while Hal muttered a sound of disgust.

  “And I did,” Max said. “I took out the guards at the camp and rescued the commander.”

  Out of the corner of his eyes, he’d seen the general loosening the ropes around his wrists. But Hal jerked Willow by the neck and planted the gun at her temple again, and he didn’t have time to wait.

  “You want to kill the person you think is responsible, then shoot me.” Max stepped closer. “At least get it right. Your father would be ashamed of you for killing an innocent woman.”

  “How do you know what my father would think?” Hal shouted.

  “Because I knew him.” Max edged closer. “He was honorable. He fought for freedom and to protect women and children. He would never hurt a civilian.”

  “He’s right, Hal,” Maybelline cried.

  Max held up his gun in surrender. “Only cowards kill women and children.”

  “No, Max,” Willow whispered.

  Maybelline clutched her brother’s arm. “Let Willow go.”

  Hal looked crazed with bitterness as he raised the gun at Max. “Don’t come any closer.”

  Max didn’t care if he died. But he had to save Willow. “I won’t let you kill her.”

  He took another step, desperate to draw Hal’s attention away from Willow long enough for the general to save her.

  His plan worked. Hal jerked the gun and fired.

  The first bullet hit Max in the shoulder. The next one his chest.

  Willow screamed. Her father yanked off the ropes and lunged at Hal. They went down in a brawl, but the general was larger and managed to tackle Hal.

  Max clutched his chest. Maybe Willow was right. It hadn’t been his time to die that day.

  Maybe God had kept him alive so he could save Willow today.

  His knees hit the floor, the room swayed and began to spin, then the world went dark.

  * * *

  Willow fumbled with her own ropes as her father struggled with Hal. She had to get to Max.

  Please, dear Lord, don’t let him die.

  Maybelline had backed against the wall, her face etched in horror.

  “Maybelline, help me!” Willow shouted. “Call 911!”

  But Maybelline shook her head back and forth, obviously in shock. Willow’s father rolled Hal across the floor and punched him in the face. Hal’s gun skittered across the concrete, and Maybelline’s gaze shot to it.

  “Don’t, Maybelline,” Willow shouted. “Get help, please. You don’t want Hal to go down for murder, do you?”

  Max was so pale, blood was oozing from his shoulder and chest. Was he breathing?

  Grunts echoed as her father and Hal fought. Finally her father subdued Hal, and yanked his arms behind him. Hal was still fighting, but her father placed him in a chokehold, and seconds later, Hal passed out.

  Shouts from outside burst into the silence, and two policemen charged in, guns drawn. “Stop, police!”

  Willow gestured toward Max. “Call an ambulance. He’s shot!”

  The officers quickly surveyed the room, and Maybelline threw up her hands in surrender. One of them headed toward her while the second officer called for an ambulance.

  Her father rushed to her, untied her wrists and dragged her up against him. “God, baby, I thought he was going to kill you.”

  “I’m fine, Daddy,” Willow choked on her tears. “But what about Max?” There was so much blood.

  The officer knelt and took Max’s pulse. “He’s alive, but his pulse is weak and thready.”

  Max moaned and opened his eyes, and Willow rushed to his side. “Don’t you dare die, Max Murdock.”

  But he closed his eyes again, and fear seized Willow.

  One Night to Kill: Chapter Sixteen

  Willow consumed almost an entire bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups while she and her father waited on Max to get out of surgery.

  The police had hauled Maybelline and Hal to jail, and Willow had given her statement. Hal would definitely serve time, and Maybelline probably would, too. Even though she hadn’t pulled the trigger, she helped plan the revenge scheme with her brother.

  Betrayal cut through Willow. Maybelline had taken the apartment at Ms. Dora’s to get close to her, then the job, all the time watching Willow until she and her brother could make their move.

  Willow couldn’t believe she’d been blind to Maybelline’s pain and anger. But then again, they hadn’t hung out together a lot. They’d simply been business and apartment acquaintances. Perhaps Maybelline had intentionally kept her distance so she’d be able to kill her and her father.

  Thankfully, police confirmed that Ms. Dora was safe. But Willow had a feeling she would disband the business.

  She certainly wouldn’t return to that life.

  Her father approached with coffee, and Willow accepted the disposable cup. “Tastes like mud,” he said. “But it’s caffeine.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  He claimed the chair beside her, his face weary. The past few hours flashed through her mind. Her father could have died.

  All these years she’d worried about losing him in combat or a military-related incident, yet a civilian had nearly killed him. Granted it had to do with the military, but the world was full of crazies and accidents happened daily that robbed lives.

  Her father laid his hand over hers. “Willow, I’m sorry for what I put you and your mother through. I never understood how difficult it was for you growing up.”

  Emotions threatened to turn her into a puddle of tears. She blinked, angry with herself. “I’m sorry
I kept you at a distance, Dad. I…just loved you so much that I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I know how that feels. When Hal put that gun to your head I thought I was going to have a heart attack.” His voice cracked. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

  Willow wiped at her face and her father closed his arms around her. They sat together for a long time, savoring the fact that they had both survived and would be closer for it.

  Finally a doctor appeared.

  “You’re Sergeant Max Murdock’s family?”

  Her father stood. “He has no family. I’m his commanding officer.”

  The doctor looked back and forth between them, his expression grave.

  Willow’s stomach twisted. “How is he?”

  The doctor pulled a hand down his chin. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it. He’s in critical condition. The bullet pierced the tissue close to his heart and barely missed the aorta. He lost a lot of blood.”

  Fear clogged Willow’s throat. “But he will make it?”

  “The next twenty-four hours will tell.”

  “Can we see him?” Willow asked.

  The doctor frowned. “Of course.”

  Willow glanced at her father, and realized he was worried about her. “I’ll be all right, Dad. Go back to my place and get some rest.”

  “I don’t want to leave you, Willow.”

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. Max had felt guilty about surviving before. Maybe he still did. “I’m fine. Max saved my life and yours, and now he’s fighting for his own. He needs to know someone’s rooting for him.” And he’d come back after her father had ordered him to leave.

  His gaze met hers, questions lingering between them, but he didn’t pry. He gave her a hug and walked her to Max’s room.

  “Let me speak to him for a minute first,” the general said.

  Willow caught his arm. “Dad?”

  He offered her a lopsided smile. “I just want to thank him.”

  Willow breathed out in relief and watched as her father stepped into the room. She stayed at the door, giving them a minute.

  When her father finished, he walked back toward her. “I’ll be at a hotel. Call me if you need me.”

  She agreed and said good-bye, then went into Max’s room. Her heart constricted at the sight of him looking so weak and pale. Tubes and oxygen were connected to him while the beep of a heart monitor echoed in the room.

  She tiptoed over to the bed. Max was deep in sleep from the anesthesia and pain meds, his bare chest and shoulder wrapped in a bandage.

  Even injured and unconscious, he looked rugged, tough and so handsome that love suffused her.

  She dragged the chair in the corner up to his bed, then cradled his hand in hers. His palm felt cold and clammy, a sign of his weakened condition, but she kissed it gently and pressed it against her cheek.

  “You’re going to make it, Max,” she whispered. “You have to.”

  For a long while, she simply sat and studied him, admiring him. She understood him now, just as she understood her father. They were born protectors, heroes, men who put their life on the line for their country and the people they loved.

  He would go back to the job when he was well.

  But God help her, while she’d been pretending not to care and trying to keep her heart intact, she’d lost it to Max.

  * * *

  Two days later

  Max tried to move, but his body felt weighted down, and pain throbbed through him.

  Where the hell was he? What happened?

  He tried to open his eyes, but the light blinded him, and his mouth was so dry that he couldn’t make his voice work.

  A moan sounded from somewhere in the room, and he squinted against the light. But he realized the sound had come from him.

  “Max?”

  That soft voice…Willow?

  He blinked again, and finally managed to focus. She looked tired and worried and so beautiful that moisture filled his eyes.

  She had almost died. Thank God, she’d survived.

  “I know you’re in pain,” Willow said softly. “You were shot and underwent surgery, but you’re going to be all right.”

  He struggled to remember the details of the shooting. “How long have I been here?”

  “A couple of days,” Willow said softly.

  Had she been here the entire time?

  Slowly the events filtered back through the haze of his drugged mind. Muir had held a gun to Willow’s head…he planned to kill Willow, then the general.

  But Max had stepped forward in challenge. He’d had to save her. What about General Woods?

  “Your father?” he croaked.

  Willow thumbed his sweaty hair back from his forehead. “He’s fine. He tackled Hal after you were shot. Then the police showed up and arrested Hal and Maybelline.”

  “But you’re okay? “ He coughed, his throat aching. “Not hurt?”

  Willow lifted a straw to his mouth for him to sip some water. “No, you saved my life, Max.”

  The fear that had seized him when he thought she might die shot through him again, making his heart race. A monitor beeped, picking up speed, and Willow rubbed his hand. “It’s all right, Max. Just rest.”

  A nurse poked her head in. “Is everything okay in here?”

  “Yes,” Willow said over her shoulder. “You are okay, aren’t you, Max?”

  He nodded. Or at least he thought he did. He was so damn tired and weak he couldn’t tell if he’d actually moved his head or not.

  But knowing that Willow was safe and unharmed was all that mattered.

  * * *

  Willow kissed Max as he faded into unconsciousness. It had been two days, and he still needed bed rest.

  But he was going to pull through. The doctor predicted a full recovery.

  She stared at his handsome face, at the deep grooves beneath his eyes from being injured, at the wide expanse of his chest still bandaged, but all she saw was the handsome, strong man who’d saved her life.

  Lord help her, she’d gone and done it. Fallen for a military man.

  Knowing he was sleeping, she whispered that she loved him, then kissed him again and walked out the door.

  The last two days, she and her father had made headway in their relationship, but the thought of loving Max and knowing he was on a mission, facing dangers that she couldn’t know about, not being able to reach him when she wanted to find out if he was safe or alive or lying dead in the desert somewhere, was more than she could bear.

  So she headed home.

  Time to forget about loving Max.

  * * *

  One Week Later

  Max was grouchy as hell as he left the hospital. He was tired of nurses and needles and being poked and prodded and wearing a stupid hospital gown that exposed his ass every time he got up to pee.

  He had dreamed of Willow and fantasized about her coming back to see him for the past seven days and nights, but she hadn’t shown or called.

  Still, her voice haunted him. He could have sworn he’d heard her whisper that she loved him before she’d kissed him good-bye.

  The taxicab pulled up in front of the hospital, and he frowned and climbed in. The general had visited once. Even though he noted that Max had disobeyed orders, he thanked him for saving his daughter, then handed him a ticket to South Florida and told him to take his leave and enjoy it.

  Fat chance of that.

  Two weeks ago, all he’d thought about was soaking up sun, sex and booze.

  Now all he wanted was one more night with Willow.

  But one more night with her would only ingrain her more deeply inside his soul, and Willow had made it clear that she would never tie herself to a military man.

  He understood her fear. Hell, he couldn’t say as he blamed her. Her father’s position had endangered her life.

  Max would never do anything to put her in danger again.

  He loved her too m
uch.

  “Ready to go, sir?” the cab driver asked.

  Max shaded his eyes from the sun, wincing as the stitches in his chest and shoulder pulled. No, he wasn’t ready.

  But it was time to go.

  He needed to get away from Atlanta so he could purge his mind of Willow, focus on healing and getting back to work.

  Two hours later, he boarded the plane for Florida and looked out the window.

  He was on his way to paradise and a vacation—finally.

  But dammit, paradise was in Willow’s arms. And all he wanted was to go back to her.

  * * *

  Willow was miserable.

  The past week while Max was in the hospital, she’d had to force herself to stay away.

  Max was leaving today.

  He was probably on a plane right now heading to…where she didn’t know. She would never know where he was or what he was doing or if he was safe.

  Not ever again. Because she wasn’t part of his life.

  Teensy looked up at her from the club chair in the corner, his favorite new place. Ever since she’d kicked him out of her bedroom when she and Max made love, he’d decided to sleep in the chair. He obviously hadn’t forgiven her.

  “You should be happy,” she murmured. “Max is gone. Forever.”

  Teensy glanced at the bedroom door as if she understood, then hopped down and rubbed up against her leg. Willow picked her up and stroked her belly. “Guess it’s just you and me, babe.”

  Tears trickled down her face, and she petted Teensy for a minute while she gobbled down another Reese’s cup.

  Finally Teensy had had enough and jumped down to play with a sock Max had left. Stupid, but Willow decided she’d keep the thing as a reminder of him. Even Teensy seemed attached to it. It was her favorite new toy.

  Willow shoved the bag of Reese’s cups away and climbed on the treadmill. Maybe she could expel some energy and calories working out.

  But she’d rather be doing it with Max in bed.

  A knock sounded, and she startled, spilling her vitamin water all over the place. Maybe Max had come back.