Crescendo

Crescendo Wynter Daniels Book 3 in the Long and Hard series.

After a painful breakup, concert violinist Chloe Carmichael just wants to be alone. But when she‟s targeted by a stalker, she‟s forced to allow a sexy stranger into her life. Security expert Wyatt Long is trying to protect Chloe. Staying as close as he dares to the beautiful musician proves difficult when she insists on performing a public concert. When the job becomes personal, he has way more to lose than a client.

Ellora‟s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Crescendo ISBN 9781419935626 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Crescendo Copyright © 2011 Wynter Daniels Edited by Shannon Combs Cover design by Syneca Photography: Intra, silverjohn/Shutterstock.com Electronic book publication November 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora‟s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora‟s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher‟s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author‟s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author‟s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

CRESCENDO

Wynter Daniels

Dedication Dedicated to Shannon Combs, editor extraordinaire and enthusiastic cheerleader. Thank you for believing in my stories and in my voice. Also for Christina G. Sullivan. Finding you again fixed the hole in my heart left by your absence. Our friendship means way too much to me to ever take it for granted again. Love ya, honey!

Wynter Daniels

Chapter One “You‟ll be dead by the summer solstice.” The computer-generated voice sent a chill up Chloe Carmichael‟s spine but she forced herself to listen to the message on her voicemail again. “I‟m coming to get you, Chloe. There‟s nowhere you can hide.” She turned the phone off speaker mode and faced the security expert her manager had hired to protect her. Sure, he was big and broad, but was he clever enough to outmaneuver the stalker who‟d taunted her for months? “The solstice is seven days away, Mr. Long. I checked. His threats haven‟t included a specific day before, which leads me to believe he‟s more serious now.” Just the thought made her throat close. She had no choice but to rely on a professional for help. The stalker had rendered her a virtual prisoner in her own home, unable to even sit outside and take in the dramatic ocean vistas and the salty sea air. Must be cabin fever heating her up. She knew better than to fantasize about a complete stranger yet she imagined herself kissing him, his hands on her skin. Her nipples hardened and pressed painfully against her lacy bra cups. Ridiculous. She closed her arms over her chest. “I agree. And the calls are untraceable, unfortunately.” He got up from her couch and strode to the French doors facing the patio and the beach beyond. The man wasn‟t at all what she‟d expected. He looked like a cross between a beach bum and a gigolo with his shoulder-length sun-streaked hair and that designer suit. But Lenny assured her Long Shot Security was the best in the business. As long as he kept that maniac away from her, she didn‟t care what he looked like. Although she had to admit, his rear view was just as spectacular as the front. Brushing away the thought, she folded her hands in her lap. “The alarm system is state of the art, both inside and out.”

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“So Lenny said.” He gestured at the camera mounted outside the glass. “Hardwired with video surveillance. That‟s what I recommend to my high-profile clients.” Facing her, he swept his eyes over her and she got the impression he was imagining her naked. She realized she wanted to be naked with him and a rush of molten heat flooded her veins. Get a grip. He’s here because I am paying him to be. “When did all this begin, Miss Carmichael?” He strode past her, assessing every inch of the family room like a bloodhound. An exotic, spicy scent followed him and she breathed it in, entranced. She‟d never smelled anything remotely similar. Moisture pooled between her legs. “Miss Carmichael?” She struggled to recall what he‟d asked. “When did you start getting the calls?” he reminded her. What was wrong with her? This was important—perhaps even life-and-death important. She sat taller, squared her shoulders and focused on the case. “Um, about six months ago. But they‟ve grown much more frequent lately.” “Lenny said the police weren‟t helpful.” She forced herself to think back to when the threats and all her fear began. “No, not much. I‟d just played a concert with the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. Since the calls started there, I phoned the police there. They referred me to the Miami Dade police since this is my home base.” “They can‟t do much when the calls are untraceable and short.” “They monitored my phone for a few weeks but he never stays on the line for more than about thirty seconds.” The memory of the frustration tightened every muscle in her body. “Honestly I wasn‟t terribly concerned about it at first. I figured it was just someone trying to mess with me, somebody who would never dare step out of the shadows. But then his tone grew more threatening. He started saying he was close by,

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that he knew what I was doing every moment. Now I‟m afraid.” She glanced at the beach and sighed. “I have this lovely slice of paradise and I can‟t touch it.” “The only way I can protect you is if I stay here with you and accompany you everywhere you go.” He sat on the arm of the sofa. “For how long? You can‟t guard me indefinitely.” The notion of living with a stranger—however appealing he was—made her skin itch. She valued her privacy but she couldn‟t ignore the stalker‟s threats anymore. “For as long as it takes. Next time this person phones I want you to engage him, say something to keep him on the line longer. Ask him why he‟s doing this to you or what he hopes to gain. Anything to keep him talking.” He folded his arms across his broad chest. “The equipment my brother set up on your home phone is more sensitive. Grady is one of the best in the business, even if he is my brother.” “I hope so.” She prayed they‟d succeed where the police had failed. Wyatt moved to the loveseat opposite Chloe. He wanted to watch her reaction to his questions and he knew she was going to be difficult to read. Her face revealed little emotion, about as much as her plain gray pants and buttoned-up white blouse showed of her skin. “Lenny told me you fired your last manager. About a year ago, right?” She folded her hands on her lap and nodded primly. “I discovered that Frank had been skimming a substantial percentage from my earnings. My accountant called an irregularity to my attention. It wasn‟t difficult to figure out what he‟d done after that. He hadn‟t covered his tracks well, thank heavens.” “Frank?” “Frank Hopkins.” Her honey-colored eyes misted. “He was with me since I was twelve. I can‟t tell you how devastated I was.” He took a tablet from his back pocket and wrote down the man‟s name. “I‟m sure that was difficult. How did he react when you confronted him?”

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A black-and-white cat jumped onto the couch and settled on her lap. “Not well. He denied it at first, but when I showed him the evidence he crumbled and broke down in tears.” A few blonde strands that had come loose from her tight bun fell in her eyes. She tucked them behind her ears. He noticed a softness about her. She was pretty, naturally pretty. But she was nothing like the women he usually dated. Well, dated was a strong word. He merely slept with them—models, Miami socialites, gorgeous women who were perfectly okay with a roll in the sack. No strings, no muss or fuss. After his breakup with Sharon, he wanted no part of anything that lasted more than a night or two. “It was awful,” Chloe continued. “I decided not to press charges. Frank was like family. As hurt as I was, I just couldn‟t bring myself to send him to jail.” “Too bad he didn‟t have as much of a conscience as you.” She blinked several times. “I gather you think I made a mistake by not pursuing punishment for him, but I choose to see the good in people. Frank felt awful about what he‟d done. Obviously I had to fire him as my manager but I couldn‟t send him to jail. We go back too far together.” He couldn‟t contain his snicker at her Pollyanna view of the man. “I‟m sure the experience has taught him a thing or two. Like he can get away with theft as long as he appears sufficiently repentant.” Tiny muscles around her jaw quivered. She stroked the cat‟s back. “People can change, Mr. Long.” “Absolutely. I just don‟t think that would generally be the case in a situation like this.” He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. “I‟m sorry. I can see the experience was painful for you.” She sighed. “Yes, it was.” “What we need to determine is if Frank could be the person who is threatening your life now. Do you think he has it in him?”

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Several emotions registered in her expression—denial, hurt then finally resignation. “I don‟t know. I suppose it‟s possible but I can‟t picture Frank trying to hurt me. He‟d seemed so appreciative after I told him I wasn‟t pressing charges.” “Obviously the man was able to fool you. How long had he been stealing from you?” He had to remind her this dude had done her wrong. If she weren‟t completely onboard and open to the possibility that Frank could be the stalker, she wouldn‟t be as forthcoming as he needed her to be. But for some reason, seeing her pain bothered him way more than it usually did in this type of situation. Her chest bowed and she dropped her gaze. “A couple years. My accountant didn‟t go back any further. What was the point?” She chewed on a fingernail. “I‟ll have one of my associates look into his whereabouts.” He wrote himself a note to speak to Grady about it. “Let‟s discuss your personal life.” Much as he needed to know about her love life, he didn‟t relish hearing the details. What’s wrong with me? I ask these questions of clients all the time. Yet something inside him grew uneasy. He studied the long line of her neck, the swell of her breasts and her graceful arms. Her scent hung in the air, something soft and floral he‟d never smelled before. His cock twitched. But she was off limits, a client. She wriggled on the cushion, checked her watch. “You know, as long as you‟re going to stay, I think I‟ll start dinner. It‟s almost six.” She picked up the cat and set him on the floor then she practically jumped off the sofa. “I‟d be more comfortable talking about this while I work. You will have dinner with me, won‟t you?” He shrugged. “Fine with me, thank you.” Following her through the sprawling house, he caught glimpses of pricey paintings and fine oriental rugs. Yet the place somehow radiated hominess with comfortable-looking furniture and a lived-in feel. She motioned for him to sit at the granite breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the family room. “I love to cook, Mr. Long. It calms my nerves. I hope you have a big appetite.”

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He chuckled as he thought about his usual menu—a burger and fries from a drivethru and a protein bar for breakfast. “My mother likes to joke that when my brothers and I were teenagers she considered taking out a second mortgage just to pay for all the pizza, chips and cookies we consumed.” “Well, you won‟t find anything like that here. I make everything from scratch. I‟m forced to eat on the run when I‟m touring so when I‟m home, I pull out all the stops.” She took out a large pan and set it on the stove. “Tonight‟s menu features a Spanish frittata and baked parmesan cheese crisps.” She was like a different person in the kitchen. He watched her wash vegetables then chop them and toss them into the pan. She was completely in command of the cooking process and that apparently gave her a boatload more confidence than she‟d displayed before. “Can I help?” he asked. She shook her head. “I‟m so used to cooking by myself that I‟d probably step on your toes or chop off a finger if you came too close.” He held up his hands in surrender. “In that case, I‟ll stay on this side of the counter.” She sprinkled a few spices over the veggies. “Now you may ask me questions, Mr. Long.” “First of all, you have to stop calling me Mr. Long. My name is Wyatt.” “Wyatt it is. Call me Chloe.” She took a bottle out of the fridge and filled two oversize wineglasses. Handing him one, she smiled and her face lit up. Even though she didn‟t have on a stitch of makeup, she was just as pretty as any of the models he‟d dated. Prettier, actually. Her skin was white as alabaster and almost translucent. He‟d seen enough sprayedon tans to last a lifetime. And bottle blondes. Chloe‟s pale, golden hair was obviously natural. It matched her coloring perfectly.

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Shouldn‟t matter though. She was a client and he had a rule about never getting involved with one. Lifting his glass in her direction, he said, “Thank you.” He sipped the wine. It was good—dry and definitely expensive. “Let‟s talk about your personal life now. Do you have family here in Palm Beach?” He opened his tablet to take notes. She stopped chopping a moment and met his stare. “No. My parents live in New York City. They‟re musicians too. Mom is a violinist like me and my father plays the cello.” He breathed in the aroma of the sautéing vegetables. “So you started learning the violin before you could walk, right?” Her chuckle had a musical quality to it, like wind chimes. “Close. I was five. And an only child. I traveled with my parents when they toured and I spent lots of time alone. The violin was my only friend.” Why did that bother him? “So you‟re on good terms with all your relatives?” “Absolutely. I studied music at NYU then landed a job with the symphony here in Palm Beach. I loved the area so I decided to settle here but I visit my family often.” She stirred the vegetables. “After I made my first CD I started touring.” “Tell me about your past relationships, the last few years. Any nasty breakups?” He tugged at his collar. The room had grown warmer. Must be the wine. She let out a soft sigh. “I‟ve only had a couple boyfriends, Mr.… Wyatt. One in college that ended amicably when we graduated and another a couple years ago. Didn‟t last long. He turned out to be married.” Her shoulders dropped and he detected a note of shame in her voice. “Tell me about that.” She kept her back to him, although she didn‟t appear to be doing anything in the way of cooking. Rather, her straightening of the objects on the counter seemed more a

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way to avoid looking at him. “Not much to tell. We were in Munich and someone bangs on his hotel room door while John was in the bathroom. I opened it to a woman who yelled, „surprise‟ before she got a look at me. John came up behind me and started backpeddling. Then he flew into a rage at his wife.” “That sounds awkward.” And a potential lead. “It was. Of course I was furious with him, as was his wife. He phoned me for weeks after but I never took his calls.” “When was the last time he tried to contact you?” She finally faced him. “About a year and a half ago.” Long before the stalking started, although that didn‟t rule John out as a suspect. “Give me his full name.” She huffed. “I really don‟t think—” “Chloe, you hired me for a reason. Let me do my job.” She took a sip of wine before answering. “John Benson Junior. But he‟s touring with one of the European symphonies. I forget which one. I‟m sure it‟s not him. Couldn‟t my stalker be a rabid fan, someone I‟ve never met?” “Sure. But he could just as easily be a person with whom you‟ve had a relationship or some sort of dealings.” She cracked several eggs into a bowl, added milk then used a whisk to whip the concoction. “I suppose. I just hope you can catch him soon. I don‟t enjoy being a virtual prisoner in my own home.” He helped her set the dining room table for the two of them. Minutes later she carried in the frittata and a basket of what looked like holey potato chips. “Parmesan cheese crisps,” she explained as she gestured at the basket. “Everything looks and smells delicious.” He tapped his wineglass to hers. “To finding your stalker and getting him out of your life.”

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Her hopeful smile sparked something inside him. He wanted to get this guy and give her life back to her. He took a bite of the frittata and shut his eyes, savoring each distinctive flavor. “God, Chloe, this is amazing. How‟d you learn to cook like that?” Her chest puffed out. “I‟m glad you like it. I taught myself. When I was growing up we spent a huge chunk of our time in hotel rooms. So when we were home, I started tinkering in the kitchen. Mom isn‟t much of a chef, but the more I cooked and baked, the more they praised me.” Her cheeks pinked. He gathered her folks weren‟t big on compliments. His folks had encouraged him and his brothers in everything they did. “So you essentially cooked for love.” He instantly regretted the comment when she winced. “I suppose. But you have to understand artists, creative people. We‟re different from most folks. There‟s an awful lot of pressure to perform your absolute best. Compliments aren‟t doled out easily.” “Is that why you live so far from your parents?” The question leaned toward rude but he wanted as much information about her as he could get. Telling himself it would help him protect her better, he pressed on. “You settled twelve hundred miles from New York. That has to mean something.” She set her fork down and eyed him. “Are you a security expert or a psychologist?” Shrugging, he met her smile with one of his own. “I have to be a mix of both to do my job well.” “All in the name of your job.” Standing, she picked up his empty glass and headed to the kitchen. She returned with his glass filled almost to the top. No way could he drink all that while he was working but since she‟d gone to the trouble, he‟d have a few sips. “Thank you for the wine. And dinner. It‟s the best meal I‟ve had in a long time.” He covered her hand with his and a zing of sensual energy ricochet through him. “Chloe, I didn‟t mean to imply I was merely asking questions for the job. I find you interesting.” Way more than he should. 14

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Chloe pulled her hand back and tucked in into her lap. She had no business desiring Wyatt. He was here to protect her because she was paying him to do so. She knew better than to think with her libido. Where had that gotten her before? Her smartest bet was to steer clear of men. Too bad Lenny hadn‟t sent her a female security person, or an ugly male one. She glimpsed Wyatt as he finished his frittata. The man was as far from ugly as he could be. She could just imagine what his body looked like under that suit. Tamping down a wave of lust, she took a healthy swallow of wine. But that only made it worse. Why did his eyes have to be so damn blue? “Mind if I have another piece?” He pointed to the frittata. “Of course not.” She served him a slice. He practically inhaled it and the next one after that. After he‟d finished, he rubbed his flat stomach. “I‟m going to gain weight here. Hopefully we‟ll get this straightened out for you in a hurry.” She hoped he would but part of her suddenly relished the notion of him staying for a while. What’s come over me? She normally barely tolerated company, couldn‟t wait until they left. But she‟d grown lonely. Shortly after everything blew up with John, she‟d discovered Frank had been stealing from her. Although Frank was twenty years her senior and they‟d never been romantically involved, his betrayal had left her devastated. And distrustful of men in general. She‟d shied away from even casual contact since. When she got up to clear away the dishes, he motioned her to sit. “You cooked. Allow me to clean up.” “No, please. You‟re my guest.” She reached for his plate the exact instant he did and their fingers touched. They both froze for a long moment. Their eyes met and Wyatt grinned.

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He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “Let me, Chloe.” Too dumbstruck to utter a sound, she merely backed away and returned to her chair. She knocked back the remnants of her wine then joined him in the kitchen in time to help him load the dishwasher. When the kitchen was all put back together, he hung the dishtowel on the oven door handle. “What do you usually do after dinner?” Should she admit that she never had any evening plans unless she was working? “II practice the violin.” His eyes opened wide. “Really? My mom used to play when I was a kid. She wasn‟t that good, she just enjoyed it. I pretended I hated it, like my brothers did. But in truth, I liked listening. Do you mind an audience?” When she chuckled, he hung his head, grinning. “Okay, so that was a dumb question.” Wyatt followed Chloe into a large room facing the beach. Several antique violins hung on the wall in glass cases. Lifting an ordinary-looking instrument from a case, she looked it over. First she rubbed rosin on to the bow hair then moved to the grand piano and sat on the bench to tune her violin. He settled into a chair in the corner, far enough away so he wouldn‟t distract her. Chloe cradled the instrument under her chin so reverently. When she started to play he found himself mesmerized. The graceful movement of her arm as she glided the bow, the sweet, melodic sounds and the passion on her face kept him riveted in his seat. Her fingers danced effortlessly over the strings—slow at one moment, frenetic at others. She bent and swayed, carried by the emotional tug of the music. When she stopped, he released the breath he hadn‟t realized he was holding. He wanted to jump up and applaud but he remained seated as she held the instrument at her side a few moments. Then she began again and the subtle improvement in the second performance was evident.

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She practiced for nearly an hour, working on the same eight-minute piece, yet Wyatt never grew tired of it. When she finally returned the violin to its case, he gave over to his emotions and shouted, “Bravo.” She chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “I don‟t usually practice in front of an audience. I must have bored you to tears.” He shook his head. “Nothing will ever match that, my own private performance by a world-renowned musician. I feel like I should throw roses at your feet or something.” She waved away his flattery. “Was that Mozart? It was beautiful.” She’s beautiful. She quirked her blonde eyebrow at him. “It is. His Concerto Number Three. One of my favorites to perform. You don‟t strike me as a classical music lover.” He strode toward her and watched her fidget with the violin case. Did he make her nervous? Despite himself, he hoped he did, because that meant she shared the powerful attraction for him that he had for her. A clock chimed from the hall, nine strokes. Chloe glanced toward the doorway. “It‟s getting late. I‟ll show you the guestroom.” She skirted around him and hurried out of the room. “This way,” she called over her shoulder. He followed her upstairs to a tastefully appointed bedroom suite. “That‟s your room there.” He gestured to the next door, which he‟d made a note of when she‟d showed him around earlier. She kept her head down when she answered. “Right. Let me know if you need anything.” “I have to run out to my car to get my bag. Then we can arm the security system.” She nodded then keeping her gaze toward the floor. Her cat wound around his ankles. “Sebastian likes you. He usually keeps to himself.” He bent to scratch the feline behind its ears. “You two have that in common, hmm?”

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Her cheeks colored. “I suppose we do.” He headed downstairs then let himself out the front door. Before he could make it off the porch, he nearly tripped over a package about the size and dimensions of a cereal box. “What is it?” Chloe stopped next to him and he picked up on the fear rolling off her. “Let‟s see.” He carefully flipped the lid and found a headless doll. A note with “RIP” written in bold red letters was fixed to the torso with a nail.” Gasping, Chloe stumbled back and nearly fell. Wyatt grasped her trembling shoulders. “He really wants to kill me, Wyatt. You have to stop him.” He scanned the area, searching for a culprit who was probably long gone, then hurried her inside. Pulling her against him, he wished he could ease her anxiety, but her fears were all too real. “I‟m going to check if the security camera got a good shot of whoever dropped off the box.” He took her into the family room and opened the armoire that held her TV and video components. Then he ran through the footage from the security cameras until he found what he was looking for. He zoomed in but since it was dark outside, all he could make out was a hooded figure wearing military-style boots. Could be anyone. Chloe‟s anguished shudder cut straight through him. In the few hours since he‟d met her, the case had taken on way more importance than his usual assignments. Her stalker had boldly walked up to her front door and left a chilling calling card. Which made him the most dangerous kind of opponent. He sat next to her on the couch and pulled her against his shoulder. “I‟ll keep you safe,” he said against her ear. He prayed he could keep that promise.

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Chapter Two “Thanks for driving up here so late, bro.” Wyatt walked Grady out and watched him climb into his car. After he‟d locked the door, he headed to the living room. Chloe sat on the edge of the sofa, her face pale. Yet she managed a smile. “Your brother seems nice. He doesn‟t say much though.” “He‟s not a people person but he‟s great with technology and he‟s the most intuitive of the four of us.” He crossed the wood floor to her and picked up her glass from the end table. “How about a drink?” At her hesitation, he added, “It‟ll help you sleep.” When she didn‟t answer, he made the decision for her. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as he poured brandy into a glass. Good thing he was behind the bar because his cock was hard as the mahogany top. She got up and strode toward him. Her eyes never let go of his as she took the drink from him then swallowed the amber liquid. His insides heated as if he‟d been the one who‟d just downed nearly a full shot of whiskey. This was crazy. Getting a hard-on for a client was bad news. And Chloe couldn‟t be any less his type. The last time he‟d engaged in an affair for longer than a weekend, he‟d had his heart handed to him in tiny pieces. He wanted no part of that kind of pain again. Then why do I want her so much? She downed the rest of her drink then set the glass on the bar. “What now? Do we just sit here and wait for that maniac to come attack me?” “Grady will let me know as soon as he has any information on the person who left the doll. It could take a few days to get prints and any trace evidence from the package

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but chances are something will be there.” He wished the pinch at the bridge of her nose would go away. But until they caught the stalker she was at great risk. “I have a performance in Miami the day after tomorrow. I suppose it‟s wishful thinking to assume this will be wrapped up by then.” “Not unless this guy decides to show up here or turn himself in to the cops. Sorry to say you‟re going to have to bow out of that gig.” Her shoulders sank but after a moment, she resolutely shook her head. “Can‟t do that. No way.” “Look, Chloe, you‟re paying me to keep you safe. My professional judgment dictates how I do that. It‟s not up for discussion. You‟re not going.” Her lips moved but nothing came out for a moment. “This is my career we‟re talking about. I refuse to let some monster dictate what I can do.” She set her hands on her waist and squared her shoulders. He circled around the bar to stand right in front of her and stared down into those honey eyes. Soulful eyes. And she looked ready to rumble. Grasping her upper arms, he tried for his most gentle voice. “Would you at least consider canceling, please? Just think about it, would you?” She dropped her gaze and huffed. “Fine, I‟ll sleep on it.” He refrained from smiling at the small triumph. “Thank you.” When she met his gaze, a current of sexual energy arced between them, nearly knocking him backward. Her lips parted and her eyes darkened. I can’t do this. He‟d be compromising her safety if he got involved with her. Then her lips brushed his like a whisper of velvet. A tornado of lush, erotic sensations sucked him under and

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he took control of the kiss. He explored her mouth, plundered it. She tasted of whiskey and desire. God, he couldn‟t stop. His cock was like steel and his balls painfully constricted with need. She pressed against him, her belly crushed to his erection. No, he had to stop this. Chloe couldn‟t help herself. Every cell in her body was on fire with carnal craving. It had been so long and she was so damn lonely. Wyatt was more man than any other guy she‟d dated. Hell, he was walking, talking testosterone. And Lord, did he know how to kiss. He broke away and the aftershocks skittered all the way down to her toes. She teetered, caught her breath then touched a finger to her lips to assure herself the kiss had actually happened. But Wyatt was shaking his head. “I-I can‟t do this, Chloe.” Her breath locked in her chest. Oh God. She‟d thrown herself at him, made a total fool of herself. Her cheeks burned. Straightening her blouse, she stood taller then turned her back to him so he wouldn‟t see the shame coloring her face. “I should get to bed. It‟s been a difficult day.” “Chloe, don‟t.” She shut her eyes a moment, gathered what dignity she had left and headed toward the stairs. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “Please make yourself at home. Let me know if you need anything.” Then she charged up the steps and locked herself in her room. She‟d only taken a few breaths before Wyatt knocked softly on her door. “Yes? Do you need something?” she said. “Can we talk?” “I‟m sleepy, Wyatt. Perhaps tomorrow.” Fat chance. First thing in the morning she‟d call Lenny and ask him to find her another security firm, although he‟d been

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adamant that Long Shot Security was the best. But there was no way could she have Wyatt stay for God knew how long. She‟d embarrassed herself enough. After the guestroom door closed, she got ready for bed. If she woke early she could prepare breakfast then leave it out for him and hide in her room until his replacement arrived. But hours later she was still wide awake in her bed listening to wave after wave crash onto the beach. She‟d given up trying to fall asleep. Was her stalker nearby? Maybe as close as on the beach. Yet she felt safe with Wyatt sleeping right next door. So close—maybe lying naked in his bed—that it made her crazy. Every time she closed her eyes, his handsome face filled her head, those azure eyes and those kissable lips. She flashed on their kiss. He‟d seemed to want it until…until he pushed her away. Growling, she threw back the covers and let the ceiling fan cool her heated skin. Skimming her hand over her erect nipples, she bit back a moan. As if pulled by an unseen force, her fingers sneaked inside her panties and into the drenched folds of her sex. She rubbed and rocked as she imagined Wyatt above her, thrusting into her as he whispered lies about how pretty she was, how skilled in the ways of pleasure. So what that not a word of it was true. His five o‟clock shadow scratched her cheek. She clenched around his shaft as he emptied his seed inside her. Oh yes. Pleasure pulsed through her, racked her body in blissful waves of satisfaction. She opened her eyes and found the same solitude as always. Her mood clunked and her bed was strangely cold and way too big.

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She shot out of bed and went to wash up. After throwing on shorts and a peasant shirt, she made her way downstairs in the dark. Once in the kitchen, she relaxed. Sebastian meowed for food even though it was hours before his breakfast time. “Oh fine,” she said then poured some kibble for him. Rooting through the cabinets, she gathered flour, sugar, baking powder and her chef-quality mixer. A little baking would calm her frazzled nerves. She measured and mixed, sifted and kneaded, pounded out all her frustration on the innocent dough. As soon as the sun came up she‟d call Lenny. She prayed he‟d be able to find a replacement for Wyatt. With everything she had happening, sharing her house with a man who stirred up every erotic fantasy she‟d ever had was nothing but foolish. Wyatt Long had to go.

***** The smell of warm bread lulled Wyatt out of a sound sleep. He rubbed his eyes then sat up and breathed in the heavenly aroma. The digital clock on the nightstand and the lack of sunlight from the windows confirmed it was too early to get up. But his stomach grumbled its protest when he snuggled under the sheets. Resistance was futile. He dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, tucked his forty-five inside his waistband holster then followed his nose to the kitchen. Standing unnoticed in the doorway, he watched Chloe cut around the edges of a pan of some wonderful-looking confection. Her hair was twisted into a loose bun and a few stray blonde wisps framed her face. White smudges—probably flour—dotted her face and arms. The small bistro table was covered with muffins, pastries and plates of cookies. But her long, lean legs enticed him more than any fresh-baked treat. She transferred gooey bars from the pan to a platter then sucked her index finger into her mouth. “Mmm.” She licked and stroked it in and out.

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Wyatt bit back a moan as he pictured her doing to his cock everything she did to her finger. Shit. Now he had an erection. He stepped behind the breakfast bar and cleared his throat. Chloe gasped and whipped her head around. Her eyebrows snapped together. Not the reaction he‟d hoped. “You‟ve been busy.” He gestured to her tabletop bakery. “Expecting an army?” Her cheeks flushed. “I couldn‟t sleep.” “So you decided to make every recipe in your cookbook?” He trailed his eyes down the front of her. His mouth watered at the sight of her nipples poking against the thin, white fabric of her peasant shirt. She folded her arms over her chest. Busted. He concentrated on keeping his focus on her face. Allowing himself to fantasize about her velvet skin and how her sex tasted would only cloud his judgment. He needed to be a hundred percent on his game in order to protect her. The stalker was obviously close by so his move was to be closer. “I bake when I‟m…when I have things on my mind.” She shuddered and he could practically feel the tension rolling off her. “Can I get you coffee or juice?” “Do you have tomato juice?” She scrunched her nose. “God no. I can‟t even stand the smell of the stuff. Sorry, that was rude of me, wasn‟t it?” He couldn‟t hold back a chuckle. “It‟s all good.” Her shoulders sagged. “No, it‟s not. I‟m not myself. I won‟t be until that maniac is caught.” His chest tightened. Why did her anxiety suddenly matter more than it should? He knew just the way to get her to relax. He crooked a finger at her. “Come here.” She blinked but remained where she was.

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“Come here,” he said more slowly but with a deeper voice. “You have to learn to do as I say if you want to stay safe.” “I don‟t see any danger lurking around the corner. The alarm is on, you‟re probably concealing a big, bad gun.” Her gaze narrowed on him. “So now you‟re the security expert, huh? Then why the hell do you need me?” She jabbed her finger in his direction. “About that…” She chewed on her lower lip and he nearly lost it. His pants were growing tighter by the second. “Listen, there could be some threat you‟re not aware of and it could come from anywhere. I‟ve been doing this type of work for a dozen years. I‟m going to keep you alive, but you have to do what I say.” He set his hands on his waist. “Come here, Chloe.” She huffed, but strode toward him. “Yes?” “Thank you. Now sit down. Here.” He pointed at a loveseat and inwardly smiled when she did as he asked. He was dangerously close to breaking his own rules but he couldn‟t stop himself. Chloe plopped down on the seat and wrapped her arms tightly around her body. She wished she had the chutzpah to tell him she wanted a different security person. I‟m a chicken. But she didn‟t want to hurt his feelings so she‟d play along. For the moment. Wyatt moved behind her. “I understand how frightening this must be. I want you to rest assured you‟re in good hands.” He kept his voice quiet and soothing. “You‟re obviously stressed. That‟s natural in this situation. I want you to let me know if there‟s anything I can do to set your mind at ease.” Did she dare tell him she planned to replace him? When he touched her shoulder, a current of torrid energy raced through her body. Then he was squeezing, massaging and she found herself relaxing despite herself. “You‟re all knots here.” He rubbed flesh over bone, ironing out all the tension.

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She ought to set him straight, explain that she‟d be letting him go, but she couldn‟t ask him to stop. “Give it all over to me, Chloe. Let it go. I‟m here and I‟ll take care of you.” His words were like a tonic to her frazzled spirit. “How does that feel?” She shut her eyes and gave in to the relaxation. “Wonderful.” He circled around the loveseat and sat beside her. She shifted so her back was to him and he resumed his massage. Shifting his hands lower, he worked her upper arms and her back. She swallowed a sigh as he stroked his fingers along her scalp, worked her bun out and shook her hair free. Sensual need curled through her all the way to her toes. Wyatt slid closer so their bodies touched. Her breath locked in her chest. He fisted his hands in her hair and tugged her head back. Then his lips were on her neck, kissing and nipping and sucking. Her nipples peaked and moisture pooled between her legs. A quiver of longing rolled over her skin. Wyatt turned her toward him, held her head possessively and took her mouth as if he owned it, owned her. Her desire flared hot. She drank in his scent, pure male. Surrendering to her lust, she climbed onto his lap so she straddled him. He grasped her backside and squeezed it, pressing her to him. She slid over his erection. Her confidence spiked when he moaned into her mouth. Then his hand was on her breast, kneading and shaping. He kissed her cheeks, her chin, her ear. A lusty sigh broke from her lips as he pinched her painfully hard nipple through her shirt. She sucked in a breath but it wasn‟t Wyatt‟s intoxicating scent she detected but something unpleasant. Like burnt… Gasping, she backed away and immediately climbed off his lap. “What‟s wrong?” He grabbed her wrist but she yanked it away.

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“My buns.” She raced to the oven. “Your buns are as sweet as they can be, honey.” She glanced at him over her shoulder and couldn‟t suppress a grin. “The sticky buns in the oven.” Grabbing a dishtowel, she shut off the oven then yanked it open. A puff of black smoke escaped. She waved it away then moved the pan onto the stovetop. Most of the buns were ruined but she might be able to salvage one or two. “Sorry about that.” Wyatt appeared next to her, staring at her burned pastries. “No big deal. I obviously don‟t need any more baked goods.” She tipped her chin at the bistro table. “Besides, it was only half your fault.” “So where did we leave off?” He moved closer and pinned her against the edge of the counter. What am I doing? Obviously her judgment sucked when it came to men. She‟d let her guard down with John and look where that had gotten her—involved with a married man. Wyatt was a complete unknown. What if he was married or had a girlfriend? He went to kiss her but she turned her face away. “I can‟t do this, Wyatt. I don‟t…” “What?” She rolled her eyes, avoided his. “I‟m no good at this.” “Seemed to me you were doing just fine. Better than fine.” Every point where their bodies touched was burning hot. He was all around her and she couldn‟t think. Her senses were jammed into overload. When he touched his palm to her cheek she couldn‟t help but lean into him. He was all about contradictions—strong yet tender, tough but caring. She wanted him so much. How was she supposed to resist? Don’t resist.

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Her heart kaboomed as their eyes locked. His smoldering gaze fell to her mouth and his lips parted. Everything else fell away. There was no stalker, no demented gifts, no danger. Only the two of them, the moment. Their lips were inches apart. She pulled in the breath he released, swallowed hard. Then he was kissing her, crushing his mouth to hers, twisting his tongue around hers, sucking, nipping. She clutched his shoulders, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He lifted her onto the counter and took possession of her mouth again. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, reeling him closer. God, she needed this, needed him. Wyatt tried to rationalize that this wasn‟t as bad an idea as his professional side insisted. Chloe needed someone to give her a shot of confidence. There‟d been vulnerability in her eyes when she‟d told him about her past involvements with men. But on the other hand, he didn‟t do relationships. She wriggled against him, rubbed her body over his cock and all meaningful thought dissipated in the smoky air. He cupped her nape, slid his hand over her silky hair. She tasted like cinnamon sugar. He could kiss her for hours but there were other endeavors he wanted even more. His balls ached with undeniable need. Grabbing hold of her hips, he picked her up and carried her to the living room, stopping several times along the way for more of her sweet tongue. He set her on the couch and climbed on top of her. She tugged at his shirt and helped him pull it off. Her fingers seared his flesh as they danced over his skin from his shoulders, over his chest and sides and along his stomach. “I love your muscles.” She laughed and her face reddened. “Sorry. That sounded juvenile, didn‟t it?” Innocent was more like it. Her inexperience with men and dating was refreshing, so unlike the socialites and models he usually went out with. “You know what I‟d love?” She lifted an eyebrow. 28

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“To take your shirt off.” Her smile faded as she undid the top button. He closed his hand over her wrists and took over for her and gradually peeled the shirt open. Staring down at the perfection of her breasts, he shook his head appreciatively. Her skin was creamy white and reminded him of fine porcelain. Pale pink areolas ringed the pebble-like points. “You‟re beautiful.” Her brow creased. “You don‟t have to say that.” “I‟m saying it because it‟s true.” He caught one breast in his palm and kissed the other. She let out a soft moan and traced the edges of his cock, making it difficult for him to wait. Pulling her nipple into his mouth, he sucked and swirled his tongue around it. When she started fiddling with his fly, he stopped what he was doing and reached for her hands. “Not yet.” He wanted nothing more than anything to bury himself to the balls inside her but her pleasure had to come first. For some reason, he longed to touch her tenderly, rather than indulge in unbridled passion. Grasping her wrists, he raised her arms over her head and held them against the cushion. He skimmed his gaze over her torso, couldn‟t resist plucking a peaked point into his mouth. She bucked and sighed. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered next to her ear. “I…can‟t.” He trailed his tongue along her collarbone and she quivered. “How about I say it and you just nod, hmm?” Sliding his hand up and down her side, he marveled at her velvety skin. “Okay.” He pushed her legs farther apart then settled alongside her. “You want me to touch you here?” Cupping her mound, he glanced at her face. Her eyes were narrowed to slits and her jaw clenched.

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“Mm hmm.” Her voice was tinged with desperation. He rubbed the spot, increased his pressure. “Is that good?” She nodded and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. He‟d never gone for shy women before, quite the contrary. But he found her fascinating and incredibly sexy. Reaching to her waistband, he pried the button of her shorts open then lowered the zipper. Slowly. A desperate whimper broke from her lips and he couldn‟t conceal his amusement. “You wouldn‟t want me to rush, would you?” “Yes, I would.” She tried to squirm out of her shorts but he centered a hand on her belly to keep her still. Then he licked a path from her navel up to a plump breast and raked his teeth over the pebbled nipple. He sensed a carnal energy simmering in her, just below the surface. Tilting his head back, he met her gaze. “You want me to take off the rest of your clothes, don‟t you, maestro?” Another nod. This time he obliged her and peeled off her shorts then rolled her lacy panties down her legs. She lifted her hips, offered herself to him. Desire pumped through his bloodstream. He covered her entrance with his palm. Her torrid heat scorched his skin. Spreading her intimate lips, he breathed in the unmistakable scent of her arousal, glimpsed her dewy feminine flesh. He slid a finger along her folds and she let out a plaintive sigh. “You like that?” She didn‟t speak but her deliciously desperate moan answered his question. When he pushed inside her, she clenched around his finger and started riding it. He used his thumb to rub her cleft as he stroked in and out. She squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips in concentration. Her jaw was rigid and she clenched her fists against the sofa cushion.

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He pressed a kiss to her neck and building vibrations rolled over her skin. Seconds later she exploded like a bottle rocket. She writhed in pleasure until her orgasm eased. Why did the serenity on her face matter so deeply? He‟d always been a considerate lover, taking the time to make sure his partner enjoyed herself. But Chloe was different from the others, somehow more important. Must be because she was a client, but it was more than that. He‟d gone out with other musicians, although never one who played with a symphony, or one with such incredible talent. And if the truth be told, he‟d slept with a client before. They‟d agreed it was just sex, nothing more. This was about sex too but it was also more than that. It was a deeper connection. Never mind that they‟d met less than twenty-four hours earlier. The sparks flying between them were more than sexual. They were almost…elemental. Chloe‟s vulnerability touched a part of him he‟d always kept locked away. She was like a rare gemstone in a sea of glass beads. And the notion frightened the hell out of him. Chloe was totally blissed out from her climax yet she still wanted more—she wanted Wyatt inside her. Once she was able to move, she sat up and reached toward his fly. “Do you have…” She cleared her throat, wishing certain things didn‟t embarrass her so much. A grin lifted one corner of his sexy mouth. “I have a condom. But are you positive you want this?” Her heart caught in her throat. Did he really desire her or had he been playing some sort of cruel game? Had her rotten instincts about men steered her down the wrong path yet again? “D-do you?” She closed her arms over her breasts, suddenly selfconscious. He cupped her cheek and gave her a warm smile. “Very much.”

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Her confidence boosted, she leaned into his touch. He shucked off his jeans then dug in his wallet for a condom. She couldn‟t help admiring his long legs, roped with muscle, not to mention the erect shaft curving up his belly. After he‟d sheathed himself, he settled over her, kissed her with an intensity that snatched her breath away. She ran her hands over the ruggedly muscular landscape of his back. Her heart tattooed a wild rhythm. He slid between her legs and the power of their attraction heightened her anticipation. Her juices slicked her sex, readying her to take all of him. He kissed her mouth again, her neck, her breasts with those wickedly skilled lips. His touch held a gentleness she hadn‟t expected. Silken pleasure curled through her, engulfing every cell in a potent brew of hormones. Wyatt brushed his lips along her jaw. Then he met her stare as he eased the crown of his shaft into her entrance. “You okay?” She could only nod as a surge of passion flooded through her, rendering her incapable of speech. Lifting her pelvis, she urged him on. He drove deeper with each stroke. She rolled her hips, rocked against his thrusts and her intimate walls stretched to accommodate his size. Every moment brought her closer and closer to the edge. His gaze still riveted to hers, his face was a mask of concentration and restraint yet his pace remained slow, purposely gentle. The pulse at his temples fluttered. His skin glistened with sweat. She splayed her fingers over his powerful upper arms then sank her fingernails into his skin as her peak neared. A blitz of sensations gripped her and she thought she‟d burst into flames any second. Little shockwaves radiated through her body, built to a fevered pitch. A rhapsody of pleasure detonated within her. She hung on to Wyatt for dear life.

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Wyatt kissed all over her face, thrust hard and fast, taking her orgasm higher like a crescendo of delight. His skin grew red and taut, his expression feral. Muscles corded on his shoulders and neck as he shut his eyes and released a primal growl. Wyatt finally let go and deep spasms of relief overtook him. He churned into Chloe‟s tight pussy, rode her relentlessly, emptying himself. He shuddered at the whitehot ecstasy. When he stilled, she clenched around him, milking every last drop of bliss from his flesh. As soon as he could move, he pushed off the couch, disposed of the condom then found a soft blanket and took it back to where she lay. He settled next to her, tucking her sweet, warm body against his then covering them with the blanket. She felt so right there. But he couldn‟t think that way. He‟d needed to touch her but he also wanted to comfort her, to give her a shot of confidence. Yeah, right. This was way more than getting his dick wet. He was guilty of that on many occasions, but this was different. He‟d craved her. Still did. And that scared the hell out of him. He skimmed a hand over her gentle curves. If he knew what was good for him—for both of them—he‟d pretend this never happened and vow not to touch her again. But he didn‟t think that was a promise he could keep. The buzz of his cell phone pulled his attention to the pile of clothes on the floor. He snatched his jeans up and rooted through the pocket until he found his phone. The display flashed Grady‟s number. “I have to take this,” he told Chloe. She nodded as he answered. “Hey, bro.” “Sorry to call so early. Hope I didn‟t wake you.” Wyatt glanced at Chloe and grinned. “No, I‟ve been up for a while.”

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“I did some digging on Chloe‟s former manager. Could be something there. Mind if I stop by?” “Yeah, that‟s fine. When?” “I‟m about thirty minutes away.” “Thirty minutes?” he said for Chloe‟s benefit then sat up. “We‟ll see you then.” As soon as he hung up, Chloe pulled the blanket up to her chin. “What‟s wrong? Did he find out something about that package that came yesterday?” Wyatt climbed over her and pressed a quick kiss to her lips as he did. “I don‟t think he could have gotten anything that fast but he said he has some information on a possible suspect.” He didn‟t want to tell her it was her former manager until he had to. No sense in giving her time to find reasons to rule him out. “All those pastries you made smell almost as delicious as you do.” He winked at her and grinned when she blushed. “I can fix you a plate and a cup of coffee if you like.” She wrapped the blanket around her like a toga then started straightening the sofa. He pulled on his pants and zipped them up. “Let me help you with that.” Smoothing down one of the cushions, he caught a whiff of her scent, like a rainstorm in a field of flowers. He stopped, hooked his hand around her neck and drew her to him. He brushed his lips over hers and she softened against him. The taste of her arousal was still on her tongue. Grasping her shoulders, he broke the kiss and met her stare. “My brother will be here soon.” She nodded and headed into the kitchen. If Grady‟s information led them to the stalker they might have the case wrapped up in a matter of hours. As much as he didn‟t want to walk away from Chloe, it would be the best thing for both of them. He was perfectly content with short, hot flings and Chloe Carmichael deserved more than that.

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Chapter Three Chloe had just finished changing into khakis and a polo shirt when the doorbell rang. By the time she got to the foyer, Wyatt was already there, entering the code to disarm the security system. “It‟s my brother,” he told her as he let him inside. “Morning, Chloe.” Grady glanced grimly at Wyatt. She led the men into the family room and quickly rechecked that she‟d put everything back the way it was before their escapade on the sofa. Her stomach fluttered at the erotic memory. “What‟s so important you couldn‟t tell me over the phone?” Wyatt sat on a wingback chair and Chloe took the other in the set. Grady perched on the edge of the couch, opened his briefcase and removed a manila file. “I found some information on your former manager.” He opened the folder and shifted his gaze between her and Wyatt. A chill rolled over her skin. Although she found it nearly impossible to imagine Frank ever physically harming her, she braced herself for whatever Grady had uncovered. “Let‟s hear it.” He pursed his lips for a long moment and she noticed the resemblance between him and Wyatt—the cleft in his chin and the pale, aqua eyes. “Did you know he was convicted of stalking years ago?” She didn‟t mean to gasp but the information was such a shock, it slipped out. “Are you positive? Maybe it‟s the wrong Frank Hopkins. It‟s not a particularly unusual name.” Glancing at Wyatt, she detected pity in his expression.

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“I‟ll take that as a no.” Grady shifted in his seat. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it could lead us closer to this guy.” Wyatt rubbed his hands together. “How long ago was it?” Grady checked his notes. “About eighteen years, domestic related. There was an aggravated battery charge with that as well.” Chloe looked at Wyatt for clarification. “He battered his…significant other. And used a weapon.” She stiffened, unable to reconcile the Frank she‟d known for more than twelve years with the violent criminal Grady described. “Anything recently?” Wyatt asked. “Nothing.” Chloe chewed on a hangnail. “Where is he now?” Grady shut the file then slipped it back into his briefcase. “Good question. Up until two months ago he was living with a wealthy widow in Boca Raton. Not far from here.” She sensed Wyatt‟s gaze on her. He was no doubt wearing an I-told-you-so expression. “And now?” “He fell off the radar after that. He could be anywhere.” “Including right around the corner,” Wyatt added. She shook her head. “But it makes no sense. I didn‟t press charges. Why would Frank hold a grudge against me?” Wyatt shrugged. “People don‟t always interpret events the same way. You might have seen the situation as you going easy on him. Maybe he harbors anger that his income was abruptly interrupted. Who the hell knows?” “I think you‟re wrong to focus solely on Frank,” she said. Grady shook his head. “We‟re not ruling out the possibility it could be someone else. I also put out some feelers on John Benson Junior, but I haven‟t gotten any hits yet.” 36

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Heat crawled up her neck. Both Grady and Wyatt now knew she‟d had a relationship with a married man. Did they think she was a bad person? “I had no idea he was married,” she blurted out. Wyatt leaned toward her and squeezed her knee. “No one‟s judging you, Chloe.” She glimpsed Grady‟s surprised expression as he stared at his brother‟s hand. Now her face was on fire. She eased her leg away and drew a relieved breath when Wyatt moved. Grady faced his brother as he placed the folder on the coffee table. “You emailed me that clip from the security camera of the guy who left the package, right?” Wyatt nodded. “Let me know if you can get better detail on the face, would you?” “Of course. Could that have been Frank, Chloe?” She thought about the figure in the blurry video. “I suppose, but it also could have been half the population of Palm Beach County.” “True.” Grady stood, shifted his stare between her and his brother. “I‟ll be in touch.” Wyatt walked him out then returned to the room. Chloe needed time to process everything that had transpired. “I‟m going to take a shower. Help yourself to whatever you‟d like.” Ignoring his narrowed gaze, she hurried from the room and raced up the stairs. She shut herself in her bathroom then turned the shower on to the hottest setting. Stripping off her clothes, she thought about Wyatt‟s hands on her skin and her pussy throbbed with need. Bad enough she‟d allowed herself that one indulgence. But she wouldn‟t repeat it. She made awful choices when it came to men, both personally and professionally. Besides, she‟d never been partial to one-night stands and she had a feeling that as soon as he had her case wrapped up, Wyatt would be gone, presto. Why get involved with a man who‟d ultimately hurt her?

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Too damn late. How could she deny how much she craved him? If she could only live in the moment, she‟d indulge herself in the pleasure and comfort Wyatt offered, just allow herself an interlude of lust. She stepped into the shower and let the warm water drench her from head to toe. Shutting her eyes, she couldn‟t avoid mental snapshots of Wyatt moving over her, kissing her neck, her lips and her breasts. Torrid heat bloomed in her belly. In her fantasy, Wyatt emerged from the steam to claim her. Lowering his head to her breast, he sucked a tight, tingling peak into his mouth. Delicious heat spiraled in every direction, steeping her in joy. He stroked long, possessive fingers over her sex, dipped inside her entrance. She clamped her mouth shut to muffle the sound of her moans as he coaxed her to climax. She opened her eyes and found herself alone. And cold. Shrugging off the disappointment, she put her head under the stream and soaked her hair. When something bumped in the bathroom, she wiped her face and gasped at the sight of Wyatt outside the shower, stripping off his clothes. She wasn‟t daydreaming now. Excitement lifted her spirits. Her heart pounded as he opened the door and stepped inside. “The bathroom in my room isn‟t nearly this appealing. I hope you don‟t mind.” He met her stare, his eyes smoldering. Chloe‟s breath locked in her throat. Had he read her mind? His gaze trailed down her body, scorching her skin. “I‟ll take your silence to mean it‟s okay.” She nodded mutely. “Maybe I can help you wash?” He lifted one eyebrow suggestively then picked up her bath sponge and squeezed body wash on it. Stepping closer, he grasped her shoulder and spun her around so she faced the wall.

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He slid the sponge in circles over her back and her arms. His touch ignited sparks of lust. Lifting her hair, he pressed a sensuous kiss behind her ear. “You taste like strawberries.” Her pulse leapt. “Really? What do you taste like?” “You should investigate that.” He turned her toward him and she watched him lather his chest, his belly. “May I?” She accepted the sponge from him and gently scrubbed his arms. Then she set the sponge aside and used her bare hands, gliding suds over sinewy muscle and bone. Moving to his side, she slid over his skin, moved to his chest and ventured lower. His cock twitched under her scrutiny. She took his hand and pulled him with her as she backed to the built-in seat. When she sat, she was eye level with his erection. She retrieved the sponge and squeezed soapy water onto him then carefully washed him. Wyatt hissed out a breath and leaned his head back as she slid over his shaft, back and forth. He leaned his hips closer as she cupped his balls and rolled them around her palms. She used the sponge to rinse him free of the soap. He lifted her chin with his finger and stared deep into her eyes. “Tell me what I taste like.” She‟d only been with two men and she hadn‟t worked up the nerve to give the first one head. But she wanted this, yearned to give him the thing she‟d heard men craved the most. Swiping her tongue over the tip, she detected the salty taste of semen. She hadn‟t cared for it when John had begged her to put his cock in her mouth. Yet with Wyatt it was different. This was her choice. She licked the length of him, closed her mouth around it and slid his hard-on in and out. His moans assured her he was enjoying himself. And to her surprise, she liked it too. He rocked toward her, set the pace and let her know how much he appreciated all her efforts.

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She‟d never taken John all the way to an orgasm this way, never had the desire. But with Wyatt, a new craving stole into her heart. She wanted to experience his climax this way with his shaft pulsing against her tongue, to taste his ecstasy as it shot from his cock. Raking her teeth carefully over his sensitive flesh, she closed her fist around the base, its snaking veins protruding against her fingers. She started sucking him and he stroked into her mouth faster. He held her face tenderly even as he tensed with building need. His body stiffened and a primal growl rose from his chest. Chloe shuddered with excitement as hot, thick liquid shot into her throat. He fisted his hands in her hair as he drove into her mouth, emptied himself in her throat. Knowing she‟d brought him such euphoria heightened her delight. Finally, he stilled, panting. A new power rose within her, confidence she‟d never had. Wyatt stepped back, leaned against the tiled wall. “That was amazing, Chloe.” “I‟m glad you liked it.” He turned toward her, got on his knees before her, set his hands on the seat on either side of her, locking her in. “Now it‟s my turn to taste you. All of you.” She grinned as desire pumped through her bloodstream. He crushed his lips to hers, slipped his tongue into her mouth and gave her a full, deep kiss. Moving his attention southward, he licked a trail down the valley between her breasts. She gasped with pleasure as he pinched her nipples then raked his teeth over each taut peak in turn. Lust pounded inside her. Wyatt slid his hands along her legs, pushed them apart as he pulled her closer to the edge of the seat. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation. He pressed kisses to her belly, the inside of her thighs and her entire body quivered with need.

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She lifted her hips, tried to coax him closer. He cupped her mound and she thought she‟d burst into flames despite the steamy air and the water all around them. Then he moved his hand lower and ran it over her intimate lips. She bit back a desperate moan as he parted her labia and pushed a thick finger inside her, deeper until she gasped from the pleasure. Then two fingers filled her. She clenched around him, pulled him in and held him there. He stroked in and out then glided his tongue over her folds, singeing her sensitive flesh. As he licked her engorged nub, he touched something inside her, a spot no one had found. Whatever he was doing was amazing, mind-numbing. She sank her fingernails into his shoulders as all her senses fast-tracked toward her climax. Hot oblivion sucked her under. Life stopped for an instant as she was deluged in ecstasy. Vibrato moans filled the air—hers, she realized after a moment. She clung to him, rode the bliss to the end. La petite mort. The term came to mind, she‟d read it in a book years earlier. The little death. She finally understood. Wyatt looked up at her and grinned. “I love how you taste.” She managed a laugh then leaned her head back against the cool tile. “And I want more. But first, how about some real food? I make a mean Eggs Benedict,” Wyatt teased.

***** Wyatt loaded the last plate into the dishwasher. “Remember I have a performance tomorrow at the Broward County Civic Center. It‟s a matinee and it‟s not far away,” Chloe said. He glanced over his shoulder at her as she scrubbed down the breakfast bar. After he shut the dishwasher, he turned to face her and folded his arms over his chest. “Too bad you won‟t be able to make it now.” 41

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She stopped, gave him a hard stare. “I never miss a performance. Of course I‟ll be there.” He shook his head. “Absolutely not. I can‟t protect you in that type of setting. It‟s way too dangerous. I won‟t allow it.” Her brow shot higher. This was going to be a tough sell. “Excuse me? Last time I checked, your firm worked for me, not the other way around. I‟ve made a commitment. People have paid damn good money for tickets. I won‟t let them down.” “So your life is worth the price of admission, huh? I don‟t think so. We have no idea how far this maniac is willing to go.” The notion of anything hurting her cut deep into his gut. He‟d just met her yesterday for Christ‟s sake. So they‟d had sex. Amazing sex. Didn‟t matter. Developing feelings for her was out of the question. Feelings had only gotten him in trouble. He flat refused to entertain the idea of a relationship with any woman, particularly one who was a client. She crossed the room then wadded up the paper towels in her hand and dropped them in the trash. “I really doubt he‟d be foolish enough to come after me in front of a crowd of thousands. That doesn‟t make any sense.” “You also have to consider the trip to and from the venue and all the time you‟re not onstage. And what‟s to stop someone in the audience from shooting at you?” Unlikely, but he wanted to discourage her from going any way he could. She rolled her eyes. “Oh please. If there‟s one place I‟m safe it‟s when I‟m onstage with a hundred other musicians in front of a crowd of thousands.” “Not necessarily.” Fear wasn‟t working on her. He apparently needed the big guns. Or gun. Closing the distance between them, he pinned her with a hungry stare. “Skip the concert, please. Instead, we can drive up to Jupiter Inlet. There‟s a terrific little inn right on the water. We can have dinner, spend the night.”

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She looked as if she was going to acquiesce for a few seconds, but then she pursed her lips and sighed. “That‟s awfully tempting but I can‟t. I won‟t let that bastard rule my life, Wyatt.” He had to admit he admired her spunk. Moving closer, he circled his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. “I just want to keep you safe. Will you at least think about it?” She blinked a couple times then buried her head against his chest. “I‟ve made a commitment to do this, Wyatt. Please try to understand.” He rested his chin on top of her head. “I‟ve made a commitment to protect you. But you‟re making it difficult.” Releasing a long breath, he grumbled. “Okay, but if I spot anything that worries me at the concert, I won‟t hesitate. I‟ll haul you out of there so fast it‟ll make your head spin. Understand?” She looked up at him with the sweetest smile. “Understood.”

***** Wyatt stood next to Chloe as she waited in the wing for her cue. He loosened his tie, scanned what he could make out of the audience. Again. Why the hell couldn‟t he shake the prickly feeling on the back of his neck? The music ended and an announcer started speaking about Chloe. The guy said they were going to play Vivaldi‟s Four Seasons. Then she whirled around, lifted onto her toes and kissed him hard on the lips. “See you soon.” And she left, strode confidently across the stage, a vision in a cloud of blue silk. The applause was deafening and she hadn‟t yet played a single note. Raising his arms, the conductor led the orchestra. Chloe began playing, her bow moving effortlessly, her body swaying gracefully.

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He forced his concentration away from her to her surroundings. A man in the audience stood up and Wyatt zeroed in on him with his binoculars. The man worked his way out of the row then headed up the aisle, probably on his way to the restroom. Wyatt kept a watchful eye on the audience and the stage crew alike through the entire performance. When the concert ended, Chloe got a standing ovation that went on and on. They loved her. She blew kisses at them then hurried backstage, her arms loaded full of red roses. “What did you think?” He swallowed back a rush of emotion. She was incredible, electric, talented beyond words. “It was good.” Her smile slipped a little. “Just good?” “Amazing, incredible, perfect. You have the adoration of fans around the world. Of course, I‟m just an uncultured idiot. Why should my opinion matter?” She handed her flowers to a stagehand who disappeared with them. “You‟re not an uncultured idiot. And it matters because you matter to me.” All the air sucked out of his lungs. He didn‟t want to be important to her, or viceversa. So what that they‟d spent the last two days making love constantly? He shouldn‟t care just because the sex was better with her than it had been with any other woman. “Come on.” She led him to her dressing room. “I want to change for the ride home. Mind waiting out here?” He opened the door to the small room. No closets or furniture large enough for anyone to hide behind. “Okay.” He paced the corridor for the few minutes it took her to dress. When she opened the door, she had a garment bag over her arm. He took it from her and looked her over from head to toe. Although she was still made up from the performance, she now wore jeans topped with a casual blouse. And she smelled so damn good.

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Desire kicked him in the gut and he wanted to push her back into the room and have his way with her right then and there as if he were a horny teenager. But they‟d be back at her place in under an hour. He pushed through the back door and a group of fifteen or twenty people closed in on them. “Miss Carmichael!” “Chloe, can I get a picture of you with my wife?” “Chloe, would you sign my program?” Shit. Why hadn‟t he anticipated this? She stepped around him but he hooked her arm and dragged her to a stop. “I can‟t let you do this.” She shrugged out of his grip. “You‟re right here. I‟ll be fine. I can‟t turn them down. I‟ve always been accessible to my fans.” He didn‟t like it but he let her go. Glimpsing the parking lot, he was thankful that at least it was daytime. The small crowd mobbed her, swallowed her up. He stood at the perimeter, watching and listening. One of the autograph-seekers—a guy in a T-shirt and jeans who obviously hadn‟t been at the concert—blocked his view when he took his turn with Chloe. The man put his hand on Chloe‟s arm. What the hell was the guy doing? Wyatt couldn‟t glimpse her face so he had no idea if she felt threatened. He tried to get in closer, but the fans locked him out. His heart pounded as he moved his hand to his weapon. But that wasn‟t practical now. He just needed to reach her. A loud pop pulled his attention to the other side of the lot. Just a car backfiring. But the crowd seemed to have grown around Chloe. He didn‟t give a damn if he pissed off anyone. He had to get to her. Pushing through the throngs, he made it to her in seconds. “What are you—”

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He didn‟t let her finish. Tucking her under his arm, he shoved between people, ignoring the loud protests of the fans. Once they‟d cleared the mob, he ushered her to the car and got her safely inside. He tossed her dress into the backseat. No need to look at her face. He felt the angry vibes rolling off her. Starting the engine, he glanced back at the group still milling around the back door of the civic center. Some of the people had walked away, but a few remained. And they didn‟t look happy. Too damn bad. “That kind of uncontrolled atmosphere is exactly what someone looking to hurt you would seek out.” He ventured a quick glance at her. Shouldn‟t have. Her nostrils flared dangerously and her chest was actually heaving. “I have never treated fans so shabbily. I always oblige them. How dare you manhandle me that way?” Manhandle her? He struggled to maintain his composure. “I perceived a threat so I removed you from the situation. That‟s what I do. Sorry if it cut into your face time. When that dude put his hand on you I felt compelled to get you the hell out of there.” “My face time? You think signing autographs is some sort of ego stroke for me?” She dug her fingers into the armrest. “No, no. I didn‟t mean it like that, Chloe.” He pulled off the road and put the transmission in park. “Some aspects of your life have to change in order for you to stay safe. That‟s my bottom line.” He reached toward her and skimmed a finger over her cheek. Her skin felt so smooth and soft, unlike her expression, which remained hard. “You overreacted.” She closed her arms over her chest. He‟d been doing his job, but maybe he‟d allowed his feelings for her to make him overly cautious. Pulling back onto the road, he nodded. “That‟s possible. I‟m sorry.” The furrow between her eyebrows relaxed. “Apology accepted. Just don‟t pull something like that at my concert tomorrow night.” “What? You‟re not serious. Who has concerts on a Monday night?”

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“It‟s a charity thing, a much smaller venue.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. Had she purposely not shared the information with him? “When did you plan to tell me?” “After we got through today‟s concert.” At least she was honest. When they arrived back at the beach house, he insisted on entering first, then checking every room before he allowed her past the foyer. Chloe started upstairs with her dress when Wyatt stopped her. “What are you doing?” he asked. She lifted the garment bag higher. “Putting this away. I usually go straight to bed after performances. It‟s draining. After matinees I usually take a nap. Do you mind?” “Nope. In fact, I‟d like to join you, if that‟s okay with you.” A suggestive grin lifted one corner of his mouth. Her residual irritation dissipated and a spark of desire took root. “For a nap?” He took her dress off her arm and stepped past her. “Or whatever else we can think to do in your bed.” Her pulse kicked up a notch as she followed him into her room. She could get used to having him around, but that wouldn‟t be wise. He‟d be gone as soon as she stopped paying his company for protection. Probably just as well. As poor as her judgment was concerning men, it was better to keep things light and purely sexual between them. Then she wouldn‟t miss him after he left. In my dreams. Shrugging off her doubts, she sat on the bed and kicked off her shoes. “Hang it anywhere?” Wyatt asked as he opened her closet door. “Yeah, thanks.” Her brain had already shut off all thoughts except those related to Wyatt and her and the bed.

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He crossed the room to the entertainment console and began hitting buttons on the stereo. Sultry strains of Ravel‟s Bolero broke the silence. He turned to face her and set his hands on his waist. “Take off all your clothes.” His smoky stare heated her blood. She swallowed hard and started unbuttoning her shirt. Wyatt eliminated the distance between them then closed his hand over her fingers. “On second thought, I‟ll do it.” Her pulse spiked as he took over and opened her blouse the rest of the way. Once he had her top off, he reached around her to unhook her bra then carefully peeled it away. His eyes lingered on her breasts. Red-hot awareness shot though her. He unsnapped her jeans then slowly lowered the zipper. “You look like you need a massage.” His sultry voice curled around her senses. All she could manage was a half nod. He pulled her up so she stood facing him, their bodies practically touching. Pinning her with that aqua stare, he shucked her jeans. She shimmied them off the rest of the way and kicked them aside. She moved closer, close enough so his erection pressed against her abdomen, only his pants separating them. He backed away then hooked his fingers under the elastic on the sides of her panties. Her breath locked in her chest as he rolled her underwear down her legs. “Lie down,” he ordered. She stretched out on her stomach as Wyatt removed his shoes. Then he sat on the bed and pushed her hair off her neck. Shutting her eyes, she let his soothing touch iron out the tension. He rubbed her shoulders and neck then worked his way down her back, along her sides. She sighed as he massaged lower—her backside and her upper thighs. He

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worked his fingers between her legs, veered tantalizingly close to her sex then retreated. Only a cruel tease. She spread her thighs apart, only a little but still, her face warmed. The bed creaked as he shifted. Instead of delving deeper between her legs, he moved his attention to her feet. She groaned and propped up on her elbows. “Are you purposely trying to drive me crazy?” She glanced over her shoulder at him. His devilish grin confirmed her suspicion. He grabbed her ankles and yanked her toward the foot of the bed. “Roll over here and I‟ll scratch that itch of yours.” Her cheeks scorched even hotter but she wouldn‟t refuse his offer. She turned over and his gaze skimmed over her nakedness. His eyes darkened as he climbed over her, covered her with his body. She pulled in a breath laced with his masculine scent. “Take your clothes off,” she said. He held a finger to her lips. “I want this to be only about you. Just relax and feel.” Carnal curiosity consumed her. Wyatt crushed his mouth over hers, kissed her as if it were his last. He twisted and swirled her tongue, sucked and nipped and set every inch of her on fire. The music grew louder and more intense as more of the orchestra joined in. Pushing her thighs apart with his knee, Wyatt moved a hand between them and slid it across her sex. Lust swamped her. He started rubbing her, stroking and teasing along her sensitive flesh. Moisture slicked her entrance. She wriggled and moaned, hungry for more. He caught her earlobe in his mouth and raked it between his teeth. Then he trekked lower to the needy points of her breasts and kissed them in turn. Her pleasure grew more demanding as the pounding percussion of the music built to a dramatic peak. Wyatt pushed a finger inside her and stroked. His thumb grazed her clit, rubbed it. Just right.

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She lifted her hips, desperate for relief. Wyatt swirled his tongue around her nipple, bit and sucked. “Yes, oh God, yes.” She clawed at his shoulders, gritted her teeth. He released her nipple and moved lower. Yes. She was so close. Tides of delight washed over her. The moment he started licking her pussy, she detonated in a heart-stopping orgasm. Her whole body hummed with bliss. Wyatt tilted his head back to look at her. Then he planted kisses on either thigh, his whiskers scratching her skin. “Do you feel better now?” She couldn‟t hold back a laugh. “I feel…euphoric.” He pulled up alongside her and ran his hand over her side. “Good.” She traced the ridge of his erect shaft through his pants. “Now it‟s your turn.” Grabbing her wrist, he gave her back her hand. “Later. I didn‟t do this for payback.” He shrugged. “But I‟ll admit it turns me on to the millionth degree to make you come.” She tamped down a rush of emotion as he pulled her closer. Then a crash exploded through the quiet and all hell broke loose.

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Chapter Four Breaking glass galvanized Wyatt‟s attention. An instant later, the security system‟s siren blared. He sprang into action. “Lock your door after me. And don‟t shut off the alarm until I tell you, got it?” He checked his Glock then shifted his eyes to her. “O-okay,” she managed over the din. Her eyes were big and glassy. He started across the room and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring wink. “It‟ll be fine, baby. I promise.” His gut twisted at the notion of leaving her alone but she‟d be safer in her bedroom. The hallway was dark but thankfully a light from downstairs made the stairs manageable. Whoever had tried to break in was probably long gone but he refused to take any chances. Not where Chloe was concerned. Leading with his weapon, he searched the foyer and the kitchen then checked the TV monitor in the family room to find out where the perimeter had been breached. Zone three, the downstairs bathroom. He allowed himself a small measure of relief. The intruder would have had to get through him to reach Chloe. He crossed the hallway to the bathroom. A warm, humid breeze lifted the sheer white curtain. Broken glass crunched under his shoes as he entered. Using the muzzle of his gun, he teased back the curtain and found a four-inch hole in the pane above the still-intact window lock. Drawing a relieved breath, he headed to the control panel for the security system and reset it. The sudden quiet had him straining to try to pick up any noises from outside the house. But the wail of emergency vehicles quickly filled the void. The stalker was growing more brazen. How long would it be before he made a play to grab Chloe? He clenched his teeth. 51

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“Did you find anything?” Chloe. He strode through the downstairs to the foyer and found her leaning over the railing on the second floor. She‟d put on a T-shirt and shorts but she looked just as appealing as she had in her gown. But she hadn‟t listened to him. He caught a glimpse of flashing lights from the front windows. “I told you to stay in your room until I said it was safe.” She stood ramrod straight. “You don‟t have to growl at me.” Had he growled? “Sorry. But we‟ve been through this before. Listen to me and stay safe. Don‟t do what I say and you could get hurt.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I figured everything was fine when the siren cut off.” The doorbell rang so he held off on arguing with her. For now. Damn woman will give me gray hair. “Police.” They knocked, hard. He opened the door and let in two officers as Chloe came downstairs. She brushed past Wyatt and showed the men into the family room. Although the air outside was warm and humid, the temperature in the house had grown suddenly cold.

***** Chloe thanked the policemen for their time then showed them out. Other than taking a report on the attempted break-in, they hadn‟t done anything—no attempt to take fingerprints or even search beyond the immediate area for a suspect. They merely checked the inside and outside of the house, just as Wyatt had already done. A chill snaked up her spine when she thought about the break-in. The violation angered her more than anything but she couldn‟t deny she‟d been afraid. If Wyatt hadn‟t been there, she‟d have been way more frightened though.

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The man was incredibly bossy. But she had no choice but to rely on Wyatt and his company. Now that the stalker was upping the stakes, she couldn‟t afford to start over with another security firm. She wanted the best security expert around. Too bad he was also sexy and beyond amazing in the bedroom department. She pulled in a deep breath and picked up a whiff of his scent. Why did he have to smell so damn good? Gazing at his profile as he re-armed the alarm system, she couldn‟t help but recall how he‟d touched her earlier. He‟d actually made her toes curl. Don’t get too attached. He’s only temporary. If the relationship lasted more than a few weeks, he‟d prove to be a jerk. He was already controlling. She started toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? How about a chef salad for supper?” He shut the armoire and faced her. “Sure. But we need to talk first.” Rubbing his hands together, he motioned toward the couch. Tamping down a kernel of unease, she took a seat. “Yes?” He didn‟t join her. Rather, he paced the floor. “I took a call from Grady a few minutes ago.” She‟d noticed him on the phone while the police were checking out the house. Had he learned something about the stalker? Or had he decided to ask his brother to take over the case so he could get away from her? “And?” He stopped walking, frowned and met her stare. “Grady found Frank.” Frank couldn‟t be the one terrorizing her. She held her breath. “Frank has been in the hospital. Undergoing treatment for advanced pancreatic cancer. Grady spoke to his sister. She doesn‟t expect him to survive the year.” All the air sucked out of her lungs. Sure, Frank had cheated her, but that didn‟t erase all the good things he‟d done for her. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body. I will not cry.

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In an instant, Wyatt was there, holding her, kissing the top of her head. “I know you care about him.” His voice was a whisper. “I told you he wasn‟t the one.” “There‟s more.” She backed away and looked him in the eye. “What?” “Grady was able to find your ex-boyfriend.” “John?” She didn‟t want to know where he was or what he was doing. “John isn‟t the stalker type any more than Frank.” He shrugged. “Maybe not but the last address my brother found for him was less than an hour from here.” “He was from Ohio. How could he…” But how well had she known him? She‟d have never guessed he was married. “Apparently he was fired from the symphony he‟d been touring with.” That didn‟t surprise her. “John has a temper. When we worked together he argued with the conductor more than once. That‟s just not done. Probably why he was let go.” “Grady hasn‟t had any luck finding where he‟s been since he vacated his last apartment. He‟s divorced now and apparently a loner.” He grasped her shoulders and pinned her with a stern stare. “After what‟s happened here tonight, you should cancel tomorrow‟s performance.” She shrugged out of his grasp. “Absolutely not. It‟s a benefit concert for a homeless shelter. The proceeds will keep the center going for another year. I can‟t possibly say no to that.” His face reddened. “They‟ll understand. It can be rescheduled.” She shook her head, adamant. “I won‟t do it. It‟s a smaller venue than today. You‟ll be able to see the entire audience and there‟s less square footage, fewer places a bad guy could hide.”

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Tiny muscles around his jaw twitched. “I don‟t like it, Chloe. The stalker is ramping up the game, taking more risks. There‟s no guarantee he won‟t try to do something in a public place, especially since he‟s tried to get into your house and failed.” She reached out for him and thankfully he took her hands, pulled her up into his arms. “Since you freaked out when I was signing autographs today, I won‟t do that tomorrow. Okay?” She wished she didn‟t see such trepidation in his narrowed gaze. Stroking her palm over his cheek, she kissed him. The rough scratch of his whiskers reminded her of what they‟d been doing when the alarm went off. She shifted closer and the hard bulge of his erection rubbed against her belly. “Can we not discuss tomorrow now? We have more…pressing matters tonight.” He sucked his lips into his mouth as he gave her a hard stare. “You‟re awfully tough to resist, but I have to be a hundred percent dialed in to what‟s going on here tonight. I boarded up the window and bypassed it on the security system. I‟ll need to keep a close eye on that tonight.” She tried to squash her disappointment. He was doing his job—protecting her from the maniac who wanted to harm her. “I‟ll feel safest if I‟m wherever you are. Mind if I sleep down here?” He held her at arm‟s length. “You‟ll be safest in your room with the door locked. Believe me, I‟d much rather be upstairs with you, but my place is here, making sure no one gets inside the house.” She huffed. “Well, let‟s at least get something to eat. That‟ll satisfy one of my appetites.” “Let‟s do that.” He winked at her and her insides heated up. She started toward the kitchen, pulling him by his hand, but when Wyatt‟s cell buzzed, he stopped. “I‟m expecting something from the office.” He hit buttons on his phone then studied the screen. Turning it toward her, he said, “Recognize this person?”

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Her stomach churned at the picture of John. She‟d hoped she‟d never lay eyes on him again. “That‟s him, right?” She nodded. “But I still don‟t think he‟s behind this.” His cell buzzed again. Turning it so he could make out the display, he wrinkled his brow. “Hmm.” “What is it?” She held her breath, speculating that whatever he‟d found out related to her case. “John Benson Junior was convicted of aggravated domestic battery four years ago. I guess you‟re right about him having a temper.” He shoved his phone into his pocket. “Now can you imagine he could be the stalker?” She rubbed the goose bumps that had suddenly formed on her upper arms. “What does the aggravated part mean?” “He used a weapon.” Wyatt lifted an eyebrow. “Sounds like a dangerous dude.” She thought back to that awful night when his wife had showed up at the hotel. The betrayal she‟d felt had probably paled in comparison to what his wife must have gone through. The rage in John‟s eyes had scared Chloe. As soon as she‟d gathered her things and left his room, someone slammed the door shut. She wasn‟t sure if it had been John or his wife. Then the shouting came—both their voices. Objects crashing into walls. She shuddered at the memory. After she‟d had time to process the scene in her mind, she realized how fortunate she was to have gotten out of the situation relatively unscathed. She‟d never seen John again. Could his anger have led him to stalk her? He‟d phoned her over and over after she left the tour but she‟d never answered a single one of his calls. “I suppose he could be dangerous. But why? What would he have to gain?”

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A wry grin curled his lips. “You‟re assuming logic plays into his reasons. But that‟s not why they do it. Most have an obsessive personality and above average intelligence.” That described John, all right. “I can‟t imagine he would think I‟d have anything to do with him after he‟s terrorized me.” Wyatt shook his head. “He‟s probably desperate. He‟s created a new, better relationship with you in his mind. A lot of stalkers have a mean streak and when they become frustrated, they often resort to violence. His attacks have escalated and violence could be his next move. Which is why you should skip your concert tomorrow.” His assessment frightened her but she refused to kowtow to threats. “I‟m sorry. This event means so much to so many people. I can‟t let them down.”

***** Wyatt glanced behind him into the corridor leading to the back door of the community center. Completely empty. Chloe had been right that the venue was way smaller than the last one. Fewer people to watch, only four entrances and no backstage area. Still, an uncomfortable tightness in his gut wouldn‟t let him relax. He turned to face the audience, only about a thousand seats with a couple fifteen or twenty concertgoers standing against the back wall. Everyone there seemed pretty well heeled. Chloe had told him the tickets cost five hundred bucks apiece, nearly all of which would go to charity. He wished she hadn‟t insisted on playing but he respected the hell out of her commitment to the homeless shelter that would benefit from the proceeds. She was a courageous woman with a soft heart. His mind drifted to her other attributes—like her curvy body—and his cock started to grow hard. Damn it. He had to stay alert, not dwell on the hot sex they‟d been having. Shifting his gaze to the stage, he watched her play. The pink dress she wore perfectly complemented her

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fair complexion. Her brows were knitted in concentration and the emotion of the music flowed from her body. Her head swayed with each slow, sad note and when the tempo grew faster and the feeling more upbeat, it showed in her expression. She‟d become way too important to him. He‟d realized it after they‟d made love after breakfast. Each time they did he wanted her more and more. Instead of satisfying his overpowering hunger for her, it only stoked his desire more. He didn‟t want to think about after the case wrapped up. Walking away from her wouldn‟t be easy. The roar of applause yanked his attention to the present. Chloe bowed then strode toward him. He glanced at his watch. Shouldn‟t be time for the concert to end yet. What the hell was going on? She smiled at him as she pushed through the door. “Just a quick break,” she explained. He followed her to her tiny dressing room and shut the door. “I thought something was wrong. Why didn‟t you tell me you would be taking a break?” She blinked a couple times. Okay, maybe his tone had been a little harsh. He gathered all his patience. “I need to know this stuff, Chloe. You have to inform me of your every move.” She huffed as she flopped into a chair. “Honestly, Wyatt. I think you‟re blowing this out of proportion.” He gritted his teeth. “Really? What if I was on the other side of the auditorium and you entered the hallway to find a man with a weapon? Let me do my job.” Although keeping her safe had become even more important than any other case he‟d worked on. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You‟re giving me a headache. I don‟t need this stress in the middle of a performance.”

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He paced the floor, trying to think of a way to make her understand the risks of being out in public. “This will be your last concert until we have the stalker behind bars.” She practically flew out of the chair and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Don‟t dictate what I can do. I‟m a grown woman.” He closed his hand over her wrist. “Then stop acting like a spoiled child.” She yanked her arm away. Her eyes blazed and her cheeks reddened. “How dare you speak to me that way? Last I checked you worked for me.” Ouch. He straightened, took a step back. Hurt and anger warred inside him. “You‟re absolutely correct, ma‟am. I‟ll be sure to know my place from now on.” She dropped his gaze. “Maybe this isn‟t going to work out, this…whatever it is between us.” “Fine with me.” “Go to hell, Wyatt.” She shoved past him then stormed from the room. You handled that well. He took off after her. “Chloe—” She held up a hand to stop him from saying another word then she pulled open the door and entered the auditorium with her head high. Shit. She waited a few seconds before heading back to the orchestra. Another round of applause—this time for her. He went inside and slipped into the shadows. Scanning the audience for the hundredth time, he still didn‟t notice anyone who stood out or resembled John Benson. His eyes kept straying toward the musicians—one in particular, the most beautiful woman in the place.

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Why had he lost his temper with her? Stalking victims were under tremendous stress. As independent as Chloe was, the pressure had to be unbearable. Guilt stabbed at his gut. She‟d already grown important to him. He didn‟t want things between them to end. The familiar objections floated through his brain—he‟d tried and failed at relationships, his job kept him too busy to be tied down to one woman, he liked being able to come and go as he pleased and to do whatever he wanted. But none of that seemed to matter when he was with her. As soon as they got out of there he‟d apologize. He hoped she‟d forgive him for showing his ass. He couldn‟t wait for his opportunity to make things right between them. The rest of the performance seemed to go on forever. Finally it finished and he accompanied Chloe to the door of her dressing room. She didn‟t say a word to him on the way. He started into the room with her, but she blocked his path. “I‟ll be out after I change.” Then she shoved him out of the way and pushed the door shut a little too hard. A soft click told him she‟d locked it. Locked me out. He leaned his head against the door and prayed he hadn‟t permanently screwed things up between them.

***** Maybe she was being too hard on him. The guy was only trying to protect her and she was sure he hadn‟t meant his hurtful words any more than she‟d meant hers. Chloe pulled in a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. “Don‟t move.” Cold metal jabbed into her neck and she froze at the woman‟s whispered command. “What do you—”

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“Shut up. Get away from the door, slowly.” Chloe inched backward but the woman kept the gun on her. She had to be the stalker. But who was she? Venturing a glance over her shoulder, she gasped. The gun barrel poked harder into her skin. “Not a peep or I blow your brains out, which I might enjoy doing. So don‟t tempt me, bitch.” Chloe‟s throat closed up and nausea swirled in her stomach. Wyatt had been on the right track. John hadn‟t been after her, but his wife apparently was the stalker. She racked her brain to recall her name. Alicia? Yes, that was it. “Please, Alicia—” Pain tore through her as the woman whacked the side of her head with the gun. “Shut. Up. I‟ll tell you when to talk, when to walk and when to breathe. Got it?” She nodded, still dizzy from the blow. Cowering, she looked at her attacker. The woman looked so average, innocuous. Average height, a few pounds overweight with dark, stringy hair and green eyes that were wild. She wore a sickening smile. Wyatt. He was right outside. She allowed herself a kernel of hope. If she didn‟t come out soon he‟d be concerned. “Don‟t even think about yelling out for help,” she said against Chloe‟s ear. “I have nothing to lose anymore. You destroyed it all. Do as I say or we both die. Nod if you understand.” A terrifying chill snaked up her spine as she frantically bobbed her head. “Good. You tell your bodyguard out there you want a drink. Send him to the bar in the lobby. Tell him you‟ll be here waiting.” Her breath gusted over Chloe‟s shoulder and she shuddered with disgust. “Insist. If you don‟t convince him to do it I‟ll ram this gun down your throat. Got it?” Her blood pounded in her ears, so loud she could hardly hear Alicia‟s commands. She nodded again. Alicia gave her a shove forward then moved behind her, sticking the muzzle against Chloe‟s ribs. “Do it.”

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Her hands trembled as she placed them flat on the door, praying Wyatt would somehow realize what was going on. She cleared her throat, afraid she wouldn‟t be able to speak. “Wyatt? Would you do me a favor, please?” “Sure. What‟s up?” She shut her eyes and savored his deep voice. Would this be the last time she heard it? “Would you mind going to the bar in the lobby and getting me a…Bloody Mary?” Would he remember that she hated tomato juice? It was a lame attempt to alert him but it was all she could think of. “Can‟t that wait until we get back to your place?” She glanced over her shoulder at Alicia. Shaking her head, the woman nudged the gun into her side. “No, it can‟t. Please, Wyatt.” She closed her eyes, prayed with all her might. “Chloe, let‟s talk.” Quiet. He wanted to make up. “I‟m sorry, baby.” Tears slid down her cheek. Alicia grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “Make your boyfriend go or I‟ll blow him away. I swear.” Easing up on Chloe‟s hair, Alicia pushed her harder against the door. She couldn‟t let anything happen to Wyatt. This wasn‟t his doing. She was the one who‟d unwittingly come between husband and wife. “I need the drink first. Then we can talk. Please go.” He exhaled loudly then said, “Okay. I‟ll be right back. Keep that door locked, understand?” More tears. “I understand. I‟m sorry too, Wyatt.” His footsteps receded and Alicia tightened her grip on Chloe‟s head. “Now we‟re going to walk out of here together. Call attention to yourself and you‟ll be a big red splat on the shiny white floor. And the walls. And the ceiling.” She held the gun to Chloe‟s head and made a clicking sound. “Catch my drift?”

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Fighting her instincts to scream at the top of her lungs, she managed a nod. I have to do something to let Wyatt know I’m in trouble. There wasn‟t time to do anything even if she could have thought of a way to leave him a clue. Alicia slipped her weapon into her purse and held it against Chloe‟s side. “Open the door.” Heart tattooing an erratic beat, she grasped the knob and carefully pulled it open. The hallway was deserted. As much as she wished Wyatt could help her, she didn‟t want him to confront Alicia. She had no doubt the woman was deranged enough to kill him. “Turn right.” Alicia hooked her arm through Chloe‟s and they strode toward the exit. “There‟s a navy sedan parked to the left of the door, three spots over. Get in the passenger side then move into the driver‟s seat. You‟re driving.” Chloe took one last glimpse behind her as they left the building. Then all her hope faded as they got into the car. At least she was driving. If she had to, she‟d crash, anything. But whether she had the guts to do anything with a gun pointing at her she had no idea. Please let me get out of this alive.

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Chapter Five Wyatt stood in line at the bar, tapping his foot. He checked his watch again then glanced toward the door to the hallway. Something had sounded a little off in Chloe‟s voice. She was probably just upset still over their argument. He watched the bartender make someone else‟s Bloody Mary and it hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. When he‟d asked for tomato juice that first morning she‟d told him how much she hated the stuff. Please, God, let her be there, safe and sound. He charged into the corridor and ran toward Chloe‟s dressing room. Without bothering to knock, he shoved the door open then frantically searched the small space. His chest felt as if it would explode. How could he have missed her cry for help? Fuck! No time to beat himself up over it. He had to get to her, had to save her from that maniac. Sprinting toward the exit, he prayed it wasn‟t already too late. He emerged into the back lot and searched the area as he raced to his car. A set of taillights cut through the darkness near the perimeter. When the vehicle—a full-size sedan from what he could tell—took the turn from the parking lot at warp speed, he instinctively knew it was whoever had snatched Chloe. Before he could pull out of his space, an elderly couple was about to walk in front of his car. Shit, shit, shit. He pressed the horn and floored the accelerator. The old man raised his cane over his head and shook it toward him.

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“Sorry, mister.” But if he lost that car he might lose Chloe. His insides twisted. Christ, he‟d just found her. Tearing through the lot after the sedan, he fished his phone out of his pocket and managed to call one of his brothers. “Collin, I have an emergency. My client was just kidnapped from the Hubert Community Center.” “Oh hell. Where are you?” Collin asked. “Okeechobee Boulevard, heading west. I bet he‟s planning to get on the interstate. Call the cops for me.” He described the car as best he could then dropped the cell back into his pocket. Weaving through the traffic, Wyatt managed to keep an eye on the suspect‟s vehicle. He floored his Mercedes, thankful for the car‟s power. Emerging from a cluster of slower-moving cars, he looked for the sedan. Son of a bitch. It had vanished into the night. Must have turned. He slammed his fist into the steering wheel. He‟d lost Chloe. And now she was at the mercy of someone who‟d likely try to kill her.

***** “Cut the lights,” Alicia ordered. Chloe glanced in the rearview mirror. She‟d thought someone—maybe Wyatt—had been following them but no one was back there now. Sweat slicked her palms as she gripped the steering wheel. She eased up on the gas. “Drive, damn it.” Alicia had said nothing except the commands she barked every few moments. “I can‟t see ten feet in front of me.” The moon lit the street a little, but she wanted an excuse to go slowly.

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“Put on the parking lights. You managed to find your way into my husband‟s bed, you can sure as hell negotiate a dark road.” She smacked the barrel of the gun on Chloe‟s fingers. “Ouch.” She snapped her hand back. “You think that hurts? Just wait.” Hot-cold shivers racked Chloe‟s body. Would Alicia believe her if she told her she hadn‟t gone after John? That he‟d pursued her relentlessly? Would it matter? Alicia had a crazed look in her eyes. The woman was completely mad and she had no doubt the jilted wife meant to kill her. “I had no idea he was married.” “Liar!” she shouted. “John was happy with me. Until you showed up, the stuck-up virtuoso who thought she was better than all the other musicians.” Chloe shook her head. “You have to believe me. It wasn‟t like that. I swear I didn‟t know about you until the moment you showed up at his hotel room.” She glanced at Alicia. “I never would have gotten involved with him if I‟d have known.” She slowed the car down, praying her captor wouldn‟t notice. If she could distract her long enough she might be able to get the gun away from her. “We can work this out.” “What do you know about anything? My husband left me, the man I committed my life to, the man I‟d hoped would be the father of my children.” She growled and shifted closer. “Drive faster unless you want to die on this street. You hear me?” She nodded and sped up, scanning the road for places to crash the car if she could work up the nerve. “You can still have all that. There‟s no reason you can‟t work things out with him.” She glanced in the rearview mirror, praying for a miracle—a glimpse of Wyatt following them. “Work things out with him,” she mimicked in a high, squeaky voice. “He won‟t even speak to me. You messed him up so badly he lost his job. All your fault. Everything is your fault. You‟ve destroyed my marriage and my life.”

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“No, speak to John. Why don‟t you call him now?” Alicia had nothing to lose. But there was no reasoning with her—and absolutely nothing to stop her from killing Chloe. “Don‟t tell me what to do.” She shoved the gun into Chloe‟s arm. “I‟m calling the shots now.” She sighed. “Anyway, John won‟t speak to me, don‟t you listen?” “Maybe he‟d listen to me.” It was a risk to mention but she‟d try anything. The road was growing more desolate and the foliage more dense. “Would you do that for me?” She was talking like a little girl but was she mocking Chloe or slipping into a different dimension? “I-I would. Anything.” Alicia threw her head back, laughing. “You really think I‟d let you anywhere near him? Soon I won‟t have to worry about you and John will find his way back to me.” Chloe tried to clear the all-encompassing haze of panic from her brain and remember what Wyatt‟s brother had learned about John. He‟d been fired. And there was something else, something before Chloe had even met him. Aggravated domestic battery. Maybe a harsh dose of reality would get through to Alicia. Chloe cleared her throat. “I know John was arrested for domestic violence. Against you. I‟m so sorry. That must have been awful. Did he hit you? Beat you?” She hoped her voice conveyed the proper amount of compassion. But her questions were met with only silence. She glanced at Alicia and her breath caught. Alicia‟s eyes were narrowed to slits and she bared her teeth like a rabid wolf. A jolt of terror raced up Chloe‟s spine. Her throat thickened and she could barely swallow. Keep her talking.

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Another glance in the mirror and her heart sank even more. Tightening her grip on the wheel, she shifted her gaze to the road. “I-I don‟t know why you‟re doing this. Would you mind telling me?” “Because I hate you.” Her voice rumbled, quiet yet full of venom. “I told you. You destroyed my marriage, my love and my life. John loved me before. And he‟ll love me again, but only after you‟re dead.” Chloe‟s blood turned to ice. “He tried, but he didn‟t want me after he‟d had you. I did everything I…” Her voice trailed off. “Doesn‟t matter anymore. I‟ll find every one of you whores.” Every one of you whores. Had John engaged in affairs with other women besides her? God, she‟d been such a fool. And now she‟d pay for her naiveté with her life. No! I won’t give up without a fight. She ventured a surreptitious glance at the gun. Alicia held it on her lap and stared toward the windshield. A sharp jolt to the left might send the weapon against the passenger door. But with a sudden jerk right, maybe the gun would move closer to her. She wondered if it could work. They were heading farther into the black, the lights of the city all but gone. I have nothing to lose. Sucking in a deep breath, she grasped the steering wheel and yanked it to the right.

***** Wyatt made a U-turn, ignoring the horn blasts from nearby vehicles. How could he have lost Chloe? He clenched his jaw as he searched for streets where the stalker might have turned off the main road. After turning around again to retrace his path, he took the first right and followed it a couple blocks before he noticed a dead end sign.

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Shit. He tried the next street with no luck. Tension knotted every inch of his body. I can’t lose her. Why hadn‟t he listened to his instincts and stayed at her dressing room, not let her out of his sight? And the last time he‟d looked into her eyes he‟d found hurt and anger—pain that he‟d caused. He slammed his fist into the dashboard. Damn it. He was going to see that pretty face again, going to kiss those lips again. Police sirens and lights whizzed past him but he took little comfort knowing the cavalry was searching for Chloe as well. He took the next street, drove past rows of ramshackle houses then several blocks of warehouses. The industrial landscape gave way to overgrown lots and low brush. If someone wanted privacy to commit a crime, this would be the perfect spot. The hair at his nape stood on end. He phoned Collin again. “I‟m on Millbourne Avenue heading north. I have a feeling they went this way.” “A feeling?” His brother‟s skeptical tone filtered through the line. “Pass it along, bro, okay? Tell them to approach with lights and sirens off. This guy is unbalanced. No telling what he‟ll do if he gets scared.” “He? You didn‟t get Grady‟s message, did you?” He swallowed. “What message?” “He located John Benson. It‟s not him, but he said his ex-wife went off the deep end when he left her. She‟s been missing for weeks.” Shit. “Be careful, Wyatt.”

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“Always.” He disconnected then scanned the area. Bigger trees now, denser brush. Picking up his speed, he prayed for a glimpse of red taillights but only inky black lay ahead. “Hang on, Chloe.” His anxiety rose with each passing minute. The road curved and he realized he was going around a lake. A sign warned that the road was ending. Was he in the wrong place? His gut clenched at a faint red glow, and another. He cut off his headlights and gripped the wheel as if his life depended on it—or Chloe’s life.

***** Chloe‟s plan hadn‟t worked. Alicia hadn‟t let go of the gun and now she was angrier than ever. “Get out of the car,” Alicia growled. “Slowly.” She slid across the seat, never lowering her weapon, which she had trained on Chloe. This is my chance. She grabbed hold of the bottom of her dress, praying the length of the fabric wouldn‟t hinder her escape. Swallowing back her fear, she climbed out of the car then waited for her kidnapper to start after her. She shoved the heavy door into Alicia, bashing it against her leg. Alicia howled in pain but Chloe didn‟t stick around to see the damage. She took off toward the woods, concentrating on her footing. The grassy ground was uneven and in her heels, she‟d be lucky to outrun Alicia, who was dressed in pants and casual shoes. “Stop!” Alicia‟s shouted warning only served to stoke Chloe‟s determination to escape. “You hear me? You‟re only making it worse for yourself.” Chloe made it to the thick cloche of trees. Pine needles crunched softly beneath her feet, masking the sound of her steps. She gulped in breaths of heavy, humid air as she felt her way through the dense woods in the darkness.

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Alicia‟s rasping breaths cut through the night, came closer. Chloe‟s heartbeat pounded in her ears. She crouched behind a wide tree trunk, hoping it would conceal her location. “Are you afraid, whore?” Alicia‟s voice held more menace than before. “You should be. No one is ever going to find you after I get through with you.” Chloe looked in every direction but the blackness was swallowing her. Which direction had Alicia‟s voice come from? Was she in front of her? To her left or right? “I could use a gun on you but that would be too easy, too clean. I think I‟ll use my knife instead. Much more…intimate. And painful.” Her laughter echoed through the trees. Chloe trembled with cold shivers. She took a half step backward. The sound of the spongy ground compressing seemed loud as a clap of thunder. She froze, afraid to move another inch. A beam of light suddenly shone from a few yards away. She held her breath, tried to flatten her body to the tree so Alicia wouldn‟t see her. But it only took seconds for that flashlight to find her. “Why are you hiding, Chloe?” Alicia‟s voice was soft, almost motherly. “I‟m only giving you what you always sought. You‟ll be more famous than ever. John will find out about your unfortunate demise on the radio or television. But don‟t worry. I‟ll comfort him.” Chloe couldn‟t stop trembling as Alicia moved toward her and shone the light directly at her face. “Please, no.” She ran through a dozen scenarios in her mind but there was no escaping. “I was going to take my time and make you suffer,” she sneered as she approached. “But you‟ve been too damn much trouble. And now I have a nasty cut on my leg thanks to you, little whore.”

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Chloe lifted her arm to shield her eyes from the light. “You‟re making a mistake. Think about this. You don‟t want to go to prison.” She slid her hands over the trunk, desperately feeling for a stick to break off to use as a weapon, anything. “I won‟t go to prison because they‟ll never suspect me.” “But they already do,” Chloe lied. “The police detective told me. You‟re on their short list, Alicia. You won‟t get away with this.” “I will get away with it. No one saw me at the concert hall. I‟ll be long gone by the time they discover your body.” She lowered the flashlight and Chloe could finally make out her face, her twisted smile. “No.” Heart thundering in her chest, she backed away, stumbled over a root and fell back onto the ground. As Alicia approached, Chloe tried to get to her feet but the light blinded her. She shielded her eyes and all she saw was the barrel of the gun pointed at her. And Alicia‟s finger on the trigger. “Goodbye, Chloe.” She held her breath, squeezed her eyes shut. A shot rang out, tearing through the darkness. And another. A heavy thump on the ground. Opening her eyes, she gasped. Alicia was crumpled at the base of the tree. The flashlight, still shining, lay by her foot. Her finger still curled around the trigger of her gun. “Chloe!” Wyatt‟s voice. Oh God. “I‟m okay.” She pulled herself up, careful to avoid Alicia‟s still form. Crouching near her kidnapper, she quickly picked up the gun and flashlight. Wyatt was there in seconds, circling his arms around her, wrapping her in his warmth.

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“Did you shoot her?” she asked, dazed and woozy from the near-death experience. Tears streamed down her face. “Yeah. You‟re safe now, baby. I‟m here.”

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Epilogue Four weeks later Wyatt patted the mattress in search of Chloe. The bed was empty but still warm. The soothing sound of waves crashing on the shore drew his attention to the open French doors to the balcony. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. She had her back to him but the rear view was no less spectacular than the front. The woman looked like an angel with her white robe fluttering all around her in the breeze. He‟d come so close to losing her. His gut clenched at the memory. As if she‟d sensed his thoughts, she turned to face him and smiled reassuringly. “How about some croissants and coffee?” She gestured to a tray on the dresser. He hadn‟t even been aware of her leaving the bedroom. “How about you come back to bed?” He crooked a finger at her. Her cheeks reddened as she headed toward him. Throwing back the covers, she glanced at his hard-on and gasped. “You‟re a naughty, naughty man.” Waggling an eyebrow at him, she let her robe fall to the floor then climbed onto the bed and straddled his hips. Then she slid back and forth over his length. He set his hands on her waist as desire pumped through his system. “You’re the naughty one. And I love it.” “I love having you here every weekend.” A sheepish grin lifted one corner of her mouth. “Not that I mind staying in Miami with you a few nights a week, but your apartment is… Well, let‟s just say it‟s more suited to a man.” “That was diplomatic of you.” He tightened his grasp on her, eager to be inside her. “I don‟t like spending any nights apart.” She leaned her head down and pressed her lips to his. He shut his eyes and took control of the kiss, sucking and tasting and exploring. He‟d memorized every inch of

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her body, yet he wanted her more each time he touched her. And strangely enough, he had no reservations about committing to a relationship as long as it was Chloe he was committing to. He palmed her firm breasts, lazily plucked the hard points and delighted at her moan. But with the way she wriggled and slid her sex over his cock, there was no way he‟d be able to wait long to bury himself inside her. He broke the kiss then pulled her body forward so he could suck one of those pebbled nipples into his mouth. She sighed as he raked his teeth over her flesh. Need coiled tighter inside him. Christ, he had to have her. Now. Sliding a hand between them, he located her clit and gently strummed it. She dug her hands into his chest but the bite of her fingernails hardly bothered him. He released her nipple then rubbed her cleft and she started rocking over him. She sat up straighter and he smiled at the now familiar haze that settled over her features right before she came. “Oh Wyatt, yes.” Her jaw went slack and her head fell back as she gyrated wildly over him. She moaned and shook as her orgasm took hold. At least a minute passed before she settled. This was the time she loved for him to enter her and he couldn‟t wait another moment. Reaching to the bedside table, he grabbed a condom and quickly sheathed himself. “Yeah. You know what I like.” Her wickedly carnal grin ramped up his need. She rose on her knees and he angled his erection against her pussy. Her breath hitched as she lowered herself onto his shaft. He grasped her hips and pushed into her deeper. Torrid need stormed through him as he began stroking. Her inner walls clenched around him, squeezing him with perfect pressure. She splayed her hands on his chest and hissed out a long breath.

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He took his time, rolled his hips, giving her a bumpy ride. His balls ached with building pressure but he struggled for control. He pumped into her, felt her pussy quiver with an impending climax. She shouted his name and started trembling with the onset of her orgasm. Grinding against him, her whole body twisted and shuddered. He pumped into her, milking all the pleasure he could from her flesh. Finally, he let go and exploded in euphoric release. Deep spasms of relief took hold as he emptied himself inside her, pumping with savage need. Ecstasy consumed him. He lay back, spent and completely satisfied. Panting, he looked into her sparkling eyes. She grinned at him and he was positive he was exactly where he belonged. “What are you smiling about?” she asked. “I should have known, maestro.” He mated his fingers with hers. “Known what?” “That a musician would take the most amazing care of my instrument.” He threw her a wink. She rolled her eyes and groaned. “I should have known that a bodyguard would turn my body inside out and upside down.” Sighing, she leaned against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and cuddled her close. “How would you feel about living together?” She lifted her head to fix him with a wide-eyed stare. “I‟d like to try it.” He pulled her closer so he could kiss her. “Me too.” They could joke about the sex all day long, but they were both well aware it was more. And it would be for a long time to come.

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About the Author Wynter Daniels is the multi-published naughty alter ego of contemporary romance author Dara Edmondson. She lives in Florida with her husband of more than twenty years and their two nearly grown children. They are all the slaves of two very demanding cats. Wynter enjoyed careers in marketing and the salon industry before her wicked prose begged to be set free. She hopes you enjoy her steamy stories.

Wynter welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

Also by Wynter Daniels Belle Behind Bars Blackout Burning Touch Customer Service Getting Even with Warren Horsing Around Long and Hard 1: Sizzle at Sea Long and Hard 2: Loose Lips Rude, Nude and Socially Unacceptable The After Party Tropical Exposure Tropic of Trouble

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