Suspicious Activities. Tyler Snell Anne

had probably wanted. He let her go as her side connected to the floor with a slap. Pain, more harsh than when she’d first fallen against the tile, blossomed along her body. She tried to suck back in the air that had been knocked loose at the impact, her coughing interrupting the rhythm of the current song playing from her iPod.

      This time it was Nikki who was slow to recover. The man reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair once more, pulling up until she had no choice but to get to her feet.

      “I wanted to bring a gun,” the man said, eyes for the first time roaming the length of her body. “I also wanted to do it in the parking lot. But no, pain was what I was asked to deliver and it had to be in the bathtub. Lucky me you were already in the bath.” He smirked.

      The fear Nikki was desperately trying to keep back flooded through every inch of her. Nikki, the woman who started a security agency aimed at providing safety against situations like this, was being bested in her bathroom. Naked, too.

      She froze.

      The hand in her hair tightened. Tears sprang to her eyes.

      Fight back, her mind yelled. Do something!

      But she didn’t. Fear had clinched like a vise around her heart.

      The man smiled wickedly.

      He never even saw Jackson Fields coming.

      * * *

      HE WAS STILL facing Nikki when Jackson’s fist slammed into him. The hit connected with his jaw. It had enough force to make the man stagger toward the tub. In the process he let go of Nikki’s hair, already howling in pain. Or maybe anger. Jackson didn’t care about dissecting the emotion.

      Nikki had water dripping off her and slipped as she tried to scurry away from her attacker. Jackson reached out, no time to care that she didn’t have a stitch on, and wrapped his arms around her. Nikki’s eyes were wide as he steadied her.