So much activity.

He watched as men scurried about, bringing in boxes and tools as they went about their business. Standing under the tree in the side yard of a house near his prize, he watched with a sneer as they tried to protect her. It wouldn't do any good. When the time was right, he would reach in and pluck his Little Rose right from under their noses.

Biting into an apple, his dark gaze zeroed in on the man standing at the door talking to the security system agent. The new bodyguard would be the wild card but nothing unmanageable. The way he handled himself with that self-righteous air of superiority, he was most likely military. The observer systematically dismissed him from thought. The Army liked them big and dumb, so the new guard would be no match for cunning and ingenuity. With a toss of the core into the trash, he focused on the object of his desire as she emerged from the house. She addressed a woman pruning the shrubs then disappeared inside. Unable to stand only a glimpse of her, he withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket and stared at it. Unfolding it carefully, he gazed adoringly at the image he had captured from the internet. The page was worn and tattered in places but the likeness to his obsession was still clear. Slowly he stroked along the woman's face with an almost tender manner. Joselyn, wearing her stunning purple dress, looked so defiant and proud standing in the juror's box. Form fitting, the dress showed off her figure perfectly by showcasing each gentle swell, dip, and flair of her nubile body. Though he couldn't see it in this photo, he knew the sweetheart neckline revealed a hint of creamy skin along with a smattering of pale freckles. The bodice clung to her breasts, hugging her torso before flaring to her knees. The color suited her pale complexion and accentuated her long tresses. His fingers itched to stroke the sweet silk of her beautiful locks, a shimmering dark blonde. Already, he ached to taste her lips as they gasped her last breath. He could practically smell the sweet aroma of her terror as she begged and pleaded for her life. He closed his eyes as he imagined the contrast of crimson against the milky white flesh. He could picture exactly how she would appear, his greatest creation, the ultimate masterpiece. Beautiful. Exquisite. Perfection. He wanted to touch himself and get lost in the pleasure of knowing she was so close and would soon be where she belonged with him, under him, pleasing him with her whimpers and tears. He shuddered. Now was not the time to get lost in fantasies. Part of the pleasure was the stalking of his prey and he wouldn't deny himself that. Instead, he groaned, reached down and performed a minor adjustment. He could wait; he had patience. He felt inspired and quickly pulled out a pen. Yes, she would be his. Turning the picture over, he began to write as the inky shadows swallowed him with their wraith-like arms.

* * *

Joselyn stretched her arms over her head slowly and grimaced as joints creaked and popped. Standing, she hit the save button and yawned. She glanced over at the wall while rubbing her lower back and squinted. Already after nine pm and she was exhausted. It had been a productive day even with all the commotion casting her home into an uproar. She was almost eight thousand words closer to her goal. Apparently, a renewed feeling of security was a cure for writer's block. Who knew?

Turning off the lights in her study, she padded down the hall to the kitchen and poked around inside the refrigerator. With a scowl, she closed the door. How long had it been since she went shopping? From the condition of her larder, it had been a while.

"Giovanni's it is then," she muttered. Wandering through the house, she was surprised to find River sitting in the living room, bolt upright on her sofa and snoring softly. She stood there in the doorway for several moments, just watching him. She knew he had not slept much the night before and from what she had gathered from their brief discussions, none the previous night as well. She wrapped her arms around herself and backed out of the room, letting him sleep. According to her new bodyguard, years of serving in the military had made him a light sleeper. It was another thing they had in common. The Witness Protection program (or WitSec) had turned her into a fitful sleeper. Even a year later, old habits had not faded. Every creak of a limb outside, every whisper of the central system starting or stopping or the soft chink of the ice maker woke her no matter how tired she was. Given the number of times River had checked on her, she figured he had to be exhausted. She would leave him alone and allow him to enjoy a well-deserved rest.

Quietly, she retreated to her study and made the call to the best little Italian bistro in New Orleans. With a promise to deliver within forty-five minutes, she gave her credit card information along with a nice tip and slipped outside to wait on the porch. Sitting on a little hand-crafted bench she found at a flea market before Christmas, she leaned back against the side of the house. She really loved this neighborhood. It was quiet and the residents, friendly. Twice a year they would block off the roads and have a large party complete with grilled food, music, and games for the children.

The thought of food made her stomach growl and she rubbed it absently. Glancing at her cell, she knew dinner wouldn't be much longer. Within five minutes of the promised forty-five, the night gate guard arrived in a golf cart.

"Hey, Ms. Kendrik. Late night hankering?"

She grinned and met him on the sidewalk. "Sam, I told you to call me Joselyn. Yes, I was working late and lost track of time." She took the items from his hands. Fishing in the bag, she pulled out a small covered bowl and handed it to him along with a package of hot breadsticks. "Gio's Chicken Alfredo with extra broccoli. Enjoy."

He smiled enormously and took the container. "You're a life savior. This sure beats the frozen dinner currently defrosting on my desk. Thank you." He placed the package on the seat next to him before tipping his hat to her. "You need anything, you let me know." He suddenly looked over Joselyn's shoulder, eyes wide. He put his golf cart into reverse and quickly drove away.

"I will. Thanks, Sam," she called after him.

"That was strange," she muttered as she turned to climb the porch steps before stopping dead in her tracks. Framed in the doorway was six feet of sexy, tousle-headed, ticked off ex-SEAL. The scowl directed at her would scare a hardened criminal. To the casual observer, River appeared to be relaxed but the white-knuckled clenching of the drawn sidearm pointing to the ground said otherwise. "Ah crap," she muttered, knowing she was not going to like the conversation that was soon to come. Painting on a charming smile, she lifted the packages of food in her hands. "Dinner is served," she said in a sing-song voice.

As she stepped onto the small porch, he grabbed her arm, pushed her through the open door and slammed it. Stumbling slightly, she barely managed to retain her hold on their dinner. Setting the box on the entry table she whirled around and glared at him. "What is your problem?"

Red crept up his face as a vein in his forehead slowly pulsed. Narrowing his eyes he glared at her. "What's my problem? Seriously? I don't know what the fu..."

She stopped him by throwing a hand up in his face. "No, sir. Nuh uh. You will not curse at me nor will you ever use that word. This is still my house and I will not tolerate it here. Ever. If you are unable to refrain from using foul language, turn around, open the door and walk out. I mean it." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared back.

His eyes narrowed as he swallowed. Silently his lips moved in what she was sure was a count to at least ten. Taking a deep breath, River let it out slowly. "Ms. Kendrik."

Ah, the ice was back. Okay, she could handle the Frost Giant. "Yes, Mr. Benson?"

A slight grin tugged his lips at her snarky tone. Quickly he toned it down. "You are right. A man should be able to express himself without being crude. I apologize for offending you and will strive to not do it again. I can't promise I'll be able to curtail it all - after all, I am a sailor and we have a certain reputation to protect."

She snorted. "I'll accept that. Now, are you going to explain to me what had your panties in a twist out there on the porch?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and barked out a laugh, "Panties?" He ran a hand over his jaw. Sobering he shook his head and tried again. "Look, I'm here for your security."

"Yes, so you've frequently mentioned."

"I'll keep mentioning it as many times as it takes. There are several things wrong with this situation." He held up his fingers one at a time as he ticked them off. "One, you should know better than to be out here in the open where anyone with a rifle and a scope could take you out. Two, how do you know that food has not been tampered with? You've already avoided one attempt at poisoning. Three, every time you open that door without letting me know you are leaving, you are taking a chance of being kidnapped. And, why did you take all these chances?" he motioned toward the boxes. "For spaghetti? I hope those meatballs are worth it."

She gasped like a fish out of water. Once again, fury roared in her and she stuttered before getting her thoughts under control. "Mr. Benson, I live in a gated community in a fantastic neighborhood protected by locked gates and a very capable security staff. I have known these people for a lot longer than I have known you. Not only am I protected in my neighborhood, I am in my own home as well. You have created a fortress for me and I do appreciate it. However, this is still my home and I have to live here. Notice I used the word 'live', not exist. I refuse to give this man any more power than he already has." She dropped her hand on the food boxes beside her. "That includes ordering dinner from my favorite restaurant. Giovanni's has been in business for more than fifty years and is a cornerstone of the French Quarter. What I ordered is not spaghetti and meatballs; but rather the best eggplant parmesan you will ever put in your mouth. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I also got a pizza with all the meats. It's made from scratch and is so much better than those chain stores. When I order, I always pay ahead of time so they don't have to bring it to my door. Sam or one of the other guards runs it down to me." She sighed and began to pace. "I can't hunker down in my house and live like a recluse. I have commitments and obligations to keep. I won't break. I won't shatter. However, I will suffocate if you don't let me breathe. I do understand your point of view and will be more careful in the future but please understand mine and let me live. Now that we got all the unpleasantness out of the way, how about you grab these boxes and meet me in the kitchen? I'll get some plates and something to drink. I have water, sweet tea, orange juice and a bottle of red I got as a house-warming gift from my publisher. You are in the South so the tea is liquid sugar, just to be warned. What'll it be?"

"Water is fine for me. I'd rather not drink while on duty but help yourself." He retrieved the takeout, paused and looked down at her. Reaching out he curled a single strand of her hair around his finger. "It's not my intention to stifle you, Joselyn but when I heard you out here talking with some stranger, I thought..." He drew his hand back and shook his head. "Please be careful." He paused and tossed a sexy grin over his shoulder on his way out of the room. "And, I don't wear panties," he said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

Whoosh.

She felt her heart speed up and her stomach clench. Was the Frost Giant thawing and was he actually flirting with her? Dear, sweet cheebus! She was right when she noticed how his smile could affect her. His devastating grin messed with her ability to reason. Just like the last time.

She chuckled as all the ire slowly drained away. He could be quite charming when he tried. Charming and lethal at the same time. She had no doubts whatsoever he was more than capable of keeping her safe.

As she followed him out of the entryway and into the kitchen she watched his silent yet graceful prowling. She couldn't help but appreciate the way his muscles moved under his clothes and she felt a familiar twinge once again. Maddox Benson was too hot for his own good, even if he was also frustrating, annoying and irritating.

It was a deadly combination for both her stalker and her own heart.