Johnny laughed. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?”
“No.”
“Too bad. I missed you. Did you miss me?” He blew out a cloud of smoke. “Then again, you have new friends. What’s his name, Rosie?”
Her blood turned to ice. She gripped the gun harder, because she was afraid she’d drop it. Swallowing, she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Even though the light was dim, she still saw the flash in Johnny’s eyes. The same flash that signaled that he was no longer interested in playing nice. Stepping closer, he grabbed the gun’s barrel so quickly that Rose gasped. Dropping his cigarette, he used his free hand to break her grip with a swift slice of his hand on her wrist. Before she knew it, she was disarmed, her gun tossed onto the trail, Johnny’s arms wrapped around her in a grip like a boa constrictor and his forearm pushing against her throat.
“Who is he?” he asked again. “Do you think you can find someone else? You know what happens when you do that.”
She gritted her teeth. When she’d first tried to escape Johnny, she’d enlisted one of his guys into helping her.
It had ended with his man getting beaten so badly as to be unrecognizable. He’d spent months in the hospital as a result.
The thought of Seth getting hurt like that—or worse—because of her terrified her. Seth was a soldier, but he had honor. He didn’t know about the dirty tricks Johnny would play. And even a man like Seth couldn’t defeat a bunch of guys intent on killing him.
“He’s nobody. He’s just my neighbor. Leave him out of this.”
“A neighbor who kisses you? He’s certainly dedicated to being neighborly.”
He pushed his arm tighter against her throat until she saw stars. God, he’s been watching me. What else does he know?
She clawed at his arm until he finally let up enough for her to breathe again. She gasped for air, but Johnny didn’t let her go.
“I have your money,” she rasped. “You said two weeks. I have three more days. Give me that, Johnny.”
He seemed to consider her words. Right when it seemed like he was going to let her go, they both heard something running out of the woods. With a bark of warning, Callie launched herself at Johnny. He screamed, and Rose broke free. She saw the glint of her gun yards away; she said a prayer of thanks for whatever divine spirit had kept it from being lost in the woods.
“Get the fuck off of me!” Johnny yelled as Rose sprinted for her gun. She could hear cloth tearing, and she knew Callie had sunk her teeth into his leg with a force that was unbreakable.
Rose placed a hand on Callie’s head to keep her still, although she didn’t tell her to let Johnny go. “If you don’t keep still, I’ll tell her to rip out your throat,” she said calmly as she pushed the barrel of the gun against the back of Johnny’s neck.
He laughed, but she knew he was scared. Good. Payback for all the times he terrified me.
“Are you going to kill me?” he said lightly, although she almost smiled at the strain in his voice. Callie growled low in her throat.
“No, because I don’t kill people. But unless you get the hell out of here and leave me alone, I’ll rethink my decision.”
Slowly, Johnny raised his hands in surrender. Rose commanded Callie to let him go, although she didn’t move the gun from his neck. She wasn’t about to let him try to hurt her dog.
“Walk. Now.”
Johnny walked, swearing as he limped slowly. Rose could see the blood trail he left from his leg wound.
When they got to the entrance of the park, the sun having completely set and with no one in sight, Rose had him turn around.
“Get in your car, and drive. I don’t care where. But get out of here.”
He sneered. “That’s it? You’ll let me go?”
“Like I said: I will—for now.”
He leaned toward her, but Callie gave a warning bark. He lurched away, his hands up.
“If you think this is over,” he threatened, “you’re wrong. We’ve just begun, Rosie.” He swore at Callie as he limped to his car.
It wasn’t until Johnny drove off that Rose put down her gun. And it was only minutes later—or was it hours? Days?—that she gasped and fell to her knees, the adrenaline rushing away to be replaced by stark fear.
She clutched Callie tightly. “What am I going to do?” she whispered.
No one answered.
Rose didn’t expect to sleep that night. She kept her gun close as she curled up in her nest of blankets on the floor, Callie only feet away. When Callie wouldn’t stop pacing, however, Rose gave in and let Callie join her in her “bed.”
“Just for this once,” she whispered. She knew full well she was doing it more for herself than for Callie.
Callie’s warm weight and the quiet sounds of the night lulled Rose to sleep, but not before her thoughts turned toward Seth. She wondered if she should tell him what was going on. Didn’t he have a right to know, now that Johnny had threatened to hurt him?
She knew the answer. He deserved to know, even if it humiliated her. And even if he never looked at her the same way again.
That thought was her last as she fell asleep. Her dreams were scattered, bizarre, more colors and shapes and sounds than anything else. She vaguely remembered waking up and feeling Callie’s nose next to her ear. But perhaps she’d dreamed it.
Then her dreams became distinctly erotic.
She was—in a cabin? In her apartment?—at the moment, it didn’t matter, because this was a dream. She wore only a lacy negligee, her hair falling down around her shoulders. Roses scented the air; candles were lit throughout. She sat on a bed and waited. She already knew who she waited for, and her heart pounded with anticipation.
Seth entered the room and gave her a heated once-over. Every place his gaze touched felt like fireworks exploding beneath her skin. She rose and pressed her hands against his hard chest—blessedly, wonderfully bare—and she felt the rumble of his voice before she heard it.
“Rose.” He leaned down to kiss the soft spot beneath her ear. “I want you.”
Those simple words nearly made her knees buckle. Sweeping her off her feet, he carried her to the bed and laid her down on the duvet covered in rose petals that had appeared. And then she was naked, and so was he, and she explored him like she’d wanted to do since she’d first met him. She explored him with a courage she didn’t have outside of dreams.
In dreams, she could be the woman she ached to be.
She didn’t know what he looked like under his clothes, but her imagination was vivid regardless. His chest was sprinkled with dark hair, and she traced the lines of his abdomen. He was all muscles and strength and heat, and he smelled like pure male.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her up for a kiss that shattered her senses. She felt his body press against her own, so hard against her softness, and she shivered when his cock brushed her hip.
He kissed her until time seemed to stop. He kissed her neck, her breasts, laving her straining nipples. She felt wetness pool between her legs.
“Seth, please. Seth.”
He kissed her belly. He muttered her name. But when he looked up, he was no longer Seth.