“You made this yourself?” I’m so shocked I accidentally say it with my mouth full.
He waves a hand over his shoulder. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s incredible.” I wipe a bit of avocado from the corner of my mouth.
He brings my tea and a napkin over, but he doesn’t make eye contact this time. His jaw is set, and his expression is all business as he turns back to the sink. Sadly, whatever passed between us is apparently over.
“Thank you,” I say again, politely, then I turn to face the large picture window as I enjoy my snack. This place has an expansive porch looking out over the river, and the sun is beaming in through the glass. It’s beautiful, but the wide-open view makes me nervous.
“Are you sure I’ll be safe here?”
“In this house, you mean?”
“Yeah. With just you.” I take another bite.
He laughs, spinning to face me. “Just me, huh?”
I smirk, wiping the crumbs from my mouth. “You know what I mean. Only one person on security detail.”
He pulls up the stool across from me, then takes a sip from his mug. “You’re worried about this stalker?” His eyes are serious.
“Yeah. A little.” I dab at my mouth with the napkin.
“You’ve had specific threats? This person seems dangerous?”
“Mm-hmm. He’s left packages for me. They look like small gifts with little red ribbons tied around them, but inside arethreatening notes. He’s even managed to get them into places that are supposed to be secure, like outside my dressing room before a show. Once I found one on my pillow at the hotel we were staying at. The team had to pack up and move that night.”
His eyes narrow. “What do the messages say?”
“Different things, but they’re always tied to my song titles. Stuff like, ‘I’ll strike you when you least expect it.’ You know, like a twist on my hit, ‘Strike When It’s Hot’?”
“Mmm.” He shrugs. “I don’t know your music.”
“Oh, sorry. Of course.” Sometimes I forget not everyone in the world follows my career. I need to remember not to be presumptuous. I’m sure it makes me sound like a real tool.
“Have you considered it could be an inside job?”
“You mean someone on my team?”
He nods.
“Impossible. Tony does detailed background checks on everyone—even the dancers. The man is obsessedwith security. He’s got everything locked down tight.” I blow across the surface of my tea to cool it.
But Chase’s expression is serious. “Hmm.”
“What is it?”
He waves a palm to dismiss it. “Nothing. I don’t know the details, obviously. Just curious.”
But for the first time since I met him, I sense that the man who has no trouble speaking his mind is holding something back.
“Tell me.”
Those dark eyes meet mine and linger there for a moment. Just being under this man’s gaze has me hot all over.
Then he squints a little, leaning in toward me. “All right. To get that close, it would have to be someone you trust. Someone his team’s not watching. Or even…”
“Even what?”
