Dex clenched his fists. Preston Ward III was fortyish, balding, married, and Black Oak’s dickwad Chief Information Officer. Not a chance Hannah would voluntarily kiss that ass**le. He must have forced it on her. Now Dex knew whose name to put at the top of the suspect list—just before he broke the bastard’s face. The machine beeped again and changed to a thin voice.
Hey, Hannah. I—I was, uhm, calling to make sure we’re still on for tonight. I have the part to fix your laptop. It’ll only take an hour. So call me and let me know when I can head your way.
Dex had no idea who that ass**le was, but a file folder on her tiny desk caught his attention.
He flipped it open, expecting to find some piece of work Gavin had given her, but his eyes turned stormy when he realized he was looking at a police report.
As he read it, his blood started to boil. Hannah wasn’t going to be shocked by the photographs Gavin had found. She already knew someone was stalking her, and she hadn’t bothered to mention that little fact to any of them. She’d just smiled and pretended like she hadn’t received threatening phone calls and letters for the last four f**king weeks.
She’d called the police, who couldn’t do a damn thing. But she hadn’t asked him for help.
She knew someone was after her, and she hadn’t even installed new locks on her doors. What the hell was she thinking?
The Dom in Dex took firm control. He’d been gentle with Hannah. He and Slade had intended to introduce her slowly to submission. But when she allowed herself to be in danger?
Slow was no longer an option. Hannah needed a firm hand now and was going to get a quick lesson in obeying her Masters.
He stomped into her bedroom and yanked a ragged suitcase from her closet. He tossed in a couple of pairs of jeans and shirts, a bathrobe, some socks, and a pair of sneakers. Dex pushed the bathroom door open and shoved her toiletries into the front pocket before striding back out.
Her eBook reader was sitting on the nightstand. He grabbed it, then opened the top drawer of her dresser. There was a mass of pretty, frilly panties in every color imaginable. Dex shut that sucker fast, gritting his teeth. The one thing Hannah wasn’t going to need for the foreseeable future was underwear. In fact, she’d never need them again if he had his way.
He turned to leave, but paused when he heard a faint little whine. A single, small sound, like a baby sighing. Dex went to the window and opened it. There was that huge tree he’d noticed earlier right outside her bedroom window. The mighty live oak that gave easy access to her window, just as he’d suspected.
This was where the shitbag stalking Hannah sat. The branches were thick and would easily hold a man’s weight. The foliage was dense. A stalker could hide here, and she wouldn’t know.
The thought made Dex violent.
Rawwwwr.
Dex dropped the suitcase as he caught a glimpse of orange fur. Mr. Snuggles. Damn.
Hannah’s cat was stuck in the tree. Dex opened the window and leaned out, searching for the cat’s hiding place. He found her clinging to a high branch. Dex sighed as he realized her fur was covered in blood.
Maybe Mr. Snuggles had gotten into a cat fight, which would be perfectly normal. But upon closer inspection, Dex didn’t think so. Someone had tried to hurt the cat, and now she was clinging to life. And probably very terrified.
Dex sighed. He wished he hadn’t taken off his suit coat.
He reached out for the nearest branch and hauled himself up. The cat hissed, but he moved in anyway.
Damn, the things he did for love.
Chapter Three
Gavin was surprised at just how nervous he was when Hannah walked into his office, notepad in hand. She didn’t dress like an executive secretary. Ms. Rogers, his former assistant, had never worn her dark hair in anything less than a professional twist or bun. Her perfectly tailored business suits had shown off her trim figure, which she’d probably spent most of her off time honing. She would have been at home on the cover of a magazine. He could have kept ice frozen on her ass, too.
By comparison, Hannah wore a too-big skirt that couldn’t conceal the erotic flare of her hips and a shapeless blouse that hid even less. Hannah had gorgeous br**sts. She wore very little makeup, and her honey blonde hair fell in pretty, loose curls. She was lovely, but never flashy.
Why did his damn heart pound when she walked in the room?
“Hi, Slade. Mr. James. You wanted to see me?” Hannah asked with her sweet West Texas twang.
Thankfully, Slade could at least say words when Hannah was around since Gavin felt incapable at the moment. Slade rushed from his seat to show Hannah to hers. Naturally, it was right next to Slade’s, so close their knees would almost touch, and Gavin was stuck behind his mammoth desk. Alone.
It was where he belonged, anyway.
“Have a seat, love,” Slade said with a smile.
She didn’t seem to mind the endearment. “Thank you.”