FATAL OBSESSION

  She finds out her nightmares are actually memories from her past life... that of a murderer...

  BLACK WIDOWS SERIES

  BOOK #2

  Christina OW

  5Prince Publishing

  Denver, CO

  This is a fictional work. The names, characters, incidents, places, and locations are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real.

  5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC

  PO Box 16507

  Denver, CO 80216

  www.5PrinceBooks.com

  Fatal Obsession

  Christina OW

  Copyright Christina OW 2015

  Published by 5 Prince Publishing

  Cover: Ermisenda Alvarez

  ISBN-10:1631121022 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-102-9

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles. For any other permission please contact 5 Prince Publishing and Books, LLC.

  First Edition/First Printing April 2015 Printed U.S.A.

  5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC.

  Acknowledgements:

  To the 5 Prince family. Thanks for your constant support.

  Dedications:

  Gone but never forgotten.

  Your influence in our lives will remain a guiding light in our lives- Mr. Anyasi.

  FATAL OBSESSION

  Chapter One

  Summer 2006

  Damien Chan pulled his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose to give his eyes a clear view of the beauty that had just crossed in front of him on the other side of the pool. He hadn’t expected—well it was Miami and seeing beauties pool side was the norm of each day, but this one... there was something special about this one. He could tell by the way she walked in her six inch strapped sandals that exposed perfectly pedicured toes and sturdy ankles. There had to be a secret to balancing in those neck breaking heels and look so mouth watering doing so. He never understood why women tortured themselves trying to look taller, but he gained a whole new appreciation for the neck breakers. His eyes travelled up from the silver charm anklet that sat seductively around her ankle, to her caramel stiff shaped calf that spoke of how fit she was.

  Damien loved a woman who kept fit. Nothing jiggled and she had a combination of tight and soft in all the right places.

  His eyes journeyed up to her thighs—Damien smiled to himself—toned and jiggle free. Just the way he liked them wrapped around his waist.

  Her thighs rounded up into a perfect ass partially exposed by the white swimsuit she had on, but tastefully covered by the see through thigh high robe that rode slapdash on her shoulders. The bottom of her swimsuit had golden circular hoops at both sides of her waist bone, clearly the only things holding the bottom pieces together. Very Victoria Secret like.

  Damien shifted uncomfortably on his lounge chair. The bottom half of her had him so hard already he had to raise his knee to hide the evidence.

  She turned around, giving him a back view of her body. He wished she would—

  “Yes!” he whispered with a discreet air punch.

  The flimsy robe slide down her arms so fluidly, like a gentle caress and pulled at her waist before she tagged it completely off and tossed it on the lounge chair. Damien had never felt so jealous of a piece of clothing before. What he would give to be that robe!

  Her back was exposed, except for the thin straps that tied behind her neck and across her back to hold up the swimsuit. She had what looked like a delicate back, the outlines of her shoulder blades were visible and so was the hollow deep between that led to the round curve of the small of her back to the top of her ass. She had what looked like a tattoo there, but her dark complexion and the distance made it impossible to tell.

  “Holy…” Damien breathed when she turned around.

  It was official. He’d just spotted the sexiest woman in the world. Someone call the Guinness records guys! Such perfection should not go undocumented. Every male species needed to see her, for generations to come!

  The top part of her suit tapered up to what looked like a three inch piece that sat along her belly up to meet the bikini top part of the suit. Those two girls were also tastefully hidden, with just the right amount of boobs slipping out. He could already imagine pressing his face between those babies.

  He moved up to her visible collar bones, to her long swan-like neck, up her chin, slightly smiling lush red lips, button nose and—

  “Shit!”

  She’d caught him staring and now she was staring back with a certain glint in her eyes as she lowered herself onto the lounge chair. He held her gaze and for a moment, Damien thought she was challenging him. Did she think he wouldn’t hit on her because she’d caught him staring? Or was she challenging him to do so, so that she could shut him down, publicly humiliating him?

  Damien clenched his jaw as his temper flared. He hated conceited chicks who thought their obvious beauty made them better than everyone and any guy would be lucky to be seen with them. He’d made that mistake of dating a girl like her once; he was certainly not going to make it again.

  He’d come here to enjoy himself and plough through as many women as he could to get over his stupid broken heart. And as much as he wanted her to be his big finale—because she would be the perfect lay for the last day of his two-week vacation—being a conceited bitch disqualified her.

  He broke their gaze and turned away just in time to see a big white bald oaf charge at her. It was clear he was after her—his gaze was locked on her and his powerful heavy strides spoke trouble. Victoria Secret was the only one who looked worth the trouble in the whole place. Damien turned back to her. She was still staring at him, not at all sensing the danger. How could she not? Everyone else on her side of the pool seemed to have created a cautionary distance.

  The oaf stopped next to her, grabbing her arm and yanking her up. “Vladimir vants you now!” he barked.

  The woman just gave him a bored look, nonchalantly taking her arm out of his hold. She bent to retrieve her robe, sparing Damien a look that said something, but he wasn’t sure what before she sashayed away, walking with no urgency despite the oaf’s grumbles behind her.

  What was that look? He wondered before he asked himself why he cared.

  She seemed quite comfortable being the girlfriend of a Russian mobster. Another assumption, yes, but he’d been a cop too long not to be able to recognize the type.

  His cop instincts wanted him to check them out but… “I’m on vacation. I’m not here to work or end up in a shootout over a girl. They are the feds problem anyway.”

  He pushed his glasses back in place, crossed his wrists behind his head and went back on the hunt to find his finale girl.

  ****

  “Some finale night!” Damien grumbled, yanking off his shirt and tossing it on a chair.

  He was back in his hotel room, alone, after his date’s boyfriend showed up during dinner. Sexy Amy from California hadn’t bothered to share that piece of information with him until it was too late. He’d put the boyfriend flat on the ground with his arms twisted behind his back.

  Apparently, she wanted to find out if the stories were true—if black men did have larger than life dicks. The whole ‘once you go black you never go back’ saying had peaked a lot of curiosity if the equipment matched the mantra. When he told her he was half Japanese, she blatantly asked if that made it bigger or smaller. He would have happily shown her if her boyfriend hadn’t started whining about calling the cops on him for assault.

  He flopped back on his bed.

  Now he was back in his room, alone. The worst part, he had nothing to distract him from thinking about Miss Victoria Secret. The entire night he’d found himself wondering if she was okay, or if he’d made the right decision to let her go off with that oaf. And now that he was alone, he was drowning in unfamiliar worry for a woman he didn’t even know.

  The pounding on his door brought him out of his thoughts. Immediately he went into cop mode, pulling his gun out of his bedside drawer and cautiously moving towards the door.

  “What?” he barked.

  “Let me in. Please, let me in!” the weepy urgent voice got to him.

  There was nothing he hated more than women being abused.

  He opened the door a crack, but she pushed it, charging in and slamming the door shut. She pressed against it like she was trying to keep whatever was on the other side of the door from breaking it down and coming in. The midsection of her short torn nightgown had a huge blotch of blood and the neckline had dribbles of blood on it. He knew that came from a bleeding nose or a cut lip. He could also take a lucky guess how she got it and it made him mad. But he was certain the blood didn’t come from her. She didn’t look like she had any major injuries and she was standing upright, not doubled over like she’d been stabbed. She might have got it defending herself. And judging by how she was reacting to the angry shouting on the other side of the door, whomever that blood belonged to was not one to mess with.

  They stood silently, waiting for the voices to fade away before Damien felt it was safe enough to move or speak. He wanted to hold her hand and lead her to the bed. But he knew that would be a bad idea. She was wound up so tight and shaking so badly a simple touch would either have her screaming and drawing the atte

ntion of the people looking for her, or running out the door and right into their arms.

  “Ma’am, why don’t-” Damien stopped when she pushed her clammy hair out of her face and looked up at him. It was Victoria Secret.

  “Oh shit!”

  She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes glazed over. She was looking at him but wasn’t seeing him. Where was she in that pretty head of hers? Did she even realize the state she was in?

  Praying she wouldn’t scream, Damien cautiously placed his hand on her shoulder. She jumped, grabbing his hand and twisting it at the wrist. He pulled his hand out of her hold just in time, slightly taken aback. She would have had him on his knees, maybe even broken his wrist if he hadn’t pulled away. He took several steps back, slipping the gun into the back of his pants before he held both his hands open palm out to her. If she knew that move, he was in no hurry to find out what else she knew if she felt threatened by the gun.

  “Hey, I don’t want to hurt you. You banged on my door, remember?”

  That glazed look remained in her eyes a second longer before she blinked. Her eyes immediately filled with tears. And as if she’d just woken up from a nightmare, she rushed to him, slamming her body into his, breaking down in sobs, her arms wrapped tightly around him. He had one arm wrapped around her shoulders while his other hand covered the gun behind him just in case her hands slipped down and grabbed for it.

  “Help me!” she wept into his chest, her tears warm against his bare skin.

  Slowly, he led her backward until they got to the bed-side drawer where he deposited his gun before he lowered them onto the bed. But she immediately climbed into his lap, curling against him her head tucked under his chin. She wanted to be held, he realized, to feel safe again. Damien wrapped his arms around her. He was both sad and angry on her behalf. What exactly had happened to her to make her shake so badly? And what kind of mess had he gotten himself into by sheltering her?

  He pushed that question to the back of his mind and holding her securely against him, he shifted back until he was leaning against the headboard. He pulled the bed cover over them, hoping it would help with her shakes but she quickly pushed it away. He wondered what she was about until she began yanking hard on her night gown.

  “Get it off! Get it off! It has blood on it, I don’t like blood!”

  Damien quickly ripped the unwanted thing over her head and tossed it as far away as he could then hurriedly covered her with an uncomfortable groan. She was naked except for the sexy lace panties he’d had a little peek at. He’d gotten a glimpse of something else. Everything he’d been admiring at the pool earlier that day, but it would be a dick-ass move focusing on that at the moment, considering her current state of mind. But hell, he was no saint, especially with her perky breasts pressed against his bare chest. He kept his hands over the covers and soothingly caressed her back as he rocked side to side, hoping to lull her to sleep.

  A long ten minutes later, she stopped shaking and her body relaxed. The long breathes against his collar bone told him she’d finally succumbed to sleep. He made himself comfortable and turned on the television; keeping the volume low he watched a few late night shows. Considering the predicament they were in, falling asleep was the last thing he intended to do. He needed to be alert just in case the oaf and his partner came barging into his room. And in the spirit of being prepared, he opened the drawer, pulled out the gun and placed it on top of the table, next to the lamp and in easy reach.

  Hell, this was the last thing he needed on his last vacation day.

  ****

  Damien pulled away from the light flicker on his nose. The fly was disrupting his sleep. Why was he even sleeping sitting up? When it moved to tickle his ear, he reached up to slap it away and his hand ended up clasped in another much smaller one.

  “What the…” he opened his eyes to the brightest brown eyes and the cheekiest grin on a very gorgeous face.

  “The sun’s out… thought you would like to know,” she half whispered with a slight laugh in her voice.

  Morning? He never let a girl stay overnight in his hotel room. Why was he sleeping sitting up and why was she in his lap, naked?

  As the fog of sleep lifted from his mind, the memory of the night before settled in. Damien looked her over more keenly. She didn’t resemble the frightened girl who forced herself onto his lap like she was trying to hide against his large body. He turned to the bedside table—the gun was still where he’d left it. He picked it up, discreetly weighing it in his hand—the same as he’d left it, one bullet in the chamber and eleven rounds in the magazine—then opened the drawer and placed it inside. He watched her to see her reaction, but she didn’t seem at all fazed by the gun, like it was something normal. Was it? She could defend herself; that he knew for sure from last night, but… no. He didn’t know her and assumptions were dangerous at this point, so he made none.

  With narrowed eyes he asked, “How are you feeling this morning?”

  Though she smiled shyly at him, she never lowered her gaze from his, “Naked.”

  He smirked. He knew exactly how naked with her warm skin pressed against his. “Probably because you are.”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Gee, thanks. I would never have guessed that.” His eyebrow shot up at that and this time she did look down, her lips twisted to the side. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so snippy considering you saved me last night.”

  He shrugged. “All I did was open the door.”

  She looked up at him, “Good thing I got your room number then, ha?” she cantered her head to the side. “Have I thanked you yet?”

  Damien glared at her. “What do you mean you found out my room number?”

  She rolled her lower lip between her teeth. “You are a cop, right?”

  He didn’t answer, letting her take whatever she wanted from his silence.

  “I had a feeling I would need police protection. The client had gotten a little handsy for my liking.”

  “You’re a prostitute?” he exclaimed a little too loudly.

  She glared at him. “No, I’m not a prostitute. I’m an escort.”

  He snorted. “What’s the difference?”

  “A prostitute takes money for sex and an escort is basically arm candy for social functions. Some may like adding sex to the packages they provide, but I don’t,” she said tersely.

  “Right,” he responded, not believing a word of it. What male would pay for just conversation and friendly company with a babe like her? “Listen, are you okay to leave now?”

  Fear filled her eyes as she vigorously shook her head. “No! I’m staying with you.”

  Damien sighed, brushing his hand tiredly over his face. “Listen. My vacation ends today and I need to leave.”

  “No one’s vacation ends on a Friday!” her voice was so shrilly high that he actually winced.

  “I need to be back to work on Monday.”

  She smiled, bouncing on his half numb thighs. “That’s great! You can stay here for two days—Vladimir would have grown tired of looking for me by then and be gone by Sunday. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

  “Exactly how is it a win-win for both of us?”

  “You get two more days vacation—on me of course—and I get a bodyguard until Vladimir goes back to his hellish hole.”

  Damien chuckled, shaking his head. He lifted her off him; keen to keep his eyes away from her naked breasts—for an escort, not prostitute, she was very comfortable being naked with him—and stood, stretching and shaking his legs to get the blood flowing again. “That’s not happening Victoria Secret. I watched over you last night because you needed me to. Now if you want police protection I suggest you go to the local police and tell them you are afraid for your safety. Your bloody nightgown should be proof enough.”

  She sat crossed legged on the bed, the cover between her legs, under her crossed arms, over her chest and covering her breasts as she stared solemnly at him. He could see her darting eyes fill with tears as she worried her lower lip. She was still scared and sadly she should be. Anyone with a name like Vladimir travelling with those big Russian sounding oafs sounded dangerous—and above his pay grade. Before he could say something stupid along the lines of ‘fine I’ll be your bodyguard’ he made a quick escape to the bathroom hoping she’d be gone by the time he returned.