Night turned to morning, and Ethan heard his cell phone buzzing in the master bathroom. He ignored it to continue holding Delaney, who slumbered in his arms with her head against his chest. Though a yellow-greenish bruise still marred her brow, nothing could detract from her beauty.

But then her beauty didn’t only run skin deep.

No. She had an inner goodness and quality that transcended her drop-dead gorgeous face and hot body. He’d been physically attracted to her—so were millions of other red-blooded men. But he’d grown to like the woman behind the big screen persona. Like probably wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he felt about Delaney.

But he didn’t know how to articulate the stronger feelings she’d stirred in him. After all, she could have anyone she wanted. Why him? Perhaps what had started between them initially was a misguided Stockholm Syndrome—a physical release from the tension and danger she’d faced.

But what had happened between them after he’d stopped John Pace from scarring her last night wasn’t just a physical release. And he knew it down deep. She cared for him.

And he cared for her. A lot. Like in the let’s see where this might go kind of way.

Fuck. What the hell was he going to do about it? He’d just started this job with the Brotherhood Protectors. He didn’t want to blow his second chance to make something out of his life.

He didn’t want to blow what little chance he had with Delaney, either. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who didn’t pay his own way. Looking after himself had been ingrained in him from the minute he’d become part of the foster care system.

The cell phone buzzed again and he reluctantly untangled himself from Delaney’s sweet body to head to the bathroom and get it before the annoying sound woke her up. Picking his way through their hastily discarded clothes, he found his pants and pulled out his mobile to read the screen.

His blood turned to ice. Texts from the sheriff, Hank, and Swede. “Shit.” John Pace had committed suicide by hanging himself in Eagle Rock’s local jail cell before the sheriff could transport him to Bozeman’s County this morning.

“What is it?”

He whipped his head around to see Delaney standing in the doorway. “Pace is dead,” he said grimly.

She weaved a bit but steadied herself on the doorjamb. “But he was fine when Sheriff Wilson took him into custody.”

Ethan crossed the floor and pulled her into his arms. “Pace was a sick man. Unstable. He killed himself.” No point in sugar coating the truth. Delaney could handle it. “He left a note. Other than an anonymous friend who left the clothes for him near the prison work detail, John Pace acted alone.”

She trembled, then stilled after several seconds of silence. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” Delaney said. “This nightmare is really finished. I don’t have to worry about someone else coming after me again. It’s over.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Yes.” And so was his job. Officially done. “You’ve got your life back. Now you can move on without looking over your shoulder.”

“I’m still a little shocked,” she admitted. “I mean, John was a jerk of epic proportions, but I didn’t figure he’d do anything this drastic. Still, I’m relieved to know he’s no longer a threat.”

“Which means you’re free,” he said.

“Free?” she asked, breaking their physical contact to look him in the eye. “What do you mean?” Delaney folded her arms and raised her chin, challenging him to explain.

Crap. He had no idea what to say to her. Ethan fumbled around in his brain, trying to come up with a way to let her know she didn’t have to keep him around. “Free to do whatever you want, whenever you want, with whoever you want without a constant shadow.”

“Oh,” she said after several beats of silence. “I see. I suppose you’ll be moving on then.”

“My services are no longer required. Though once you resume your work schedule, you might want to hire a security company in Los Angeles to give you peace of mind.”

“So that’s how you think about us? Me?” Delaney turned on her heel and walked out of the bathroom, then grabbed a robe from her closet. She shrugged it on and cinched it. “You think you’re just a bodyguard to me? You really believe there’s nothing more between us after everything we’ve been through together? What happened last night meant something to me. I thought it meant something to you too.”

Ethan scrambled to get dressed, talking fast as he pulled on his jeans and T-shirt. “I—we—I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you.” He clipped on his holster and shoved his feet into his boots. “You were afraid, upset and needed comfort. And . . .”

“And you were a handy distraction,” she said, fire gleamed in her narrowing green eyes. “Poor little actress needed her hot bodyguard to take her mind off her troubles. Poor, pitiful me. Oh. How magnanimous of you, Ethan. Thanks. Thanks for taking care of me so beautifully. You plan on servicing all your future female clients with the same dedication?”

Something inside him snapped. Whipped against his sternum, destroying his ability to string together coherent thoughts. “I—no. No.” He couldn’t even imagine being with another woman, client or otherwise, that moved him the way Delaney had. But she had a career, belonged in a world that was the polar opposite of anything he’d ever known. He cared, but mistaking awesome sex wouldn’t survive just how different they were—they didn’t truly belong together. She deserved better than a beat up former Marine. “I never meant for anything to happen,” he said. “I made a . . .”

* * *

Delaney held up her hand to stop Ethan from saying the words tripping on the edge of his tongue. “Don’t,” she said. “Please don’t make what happened between us something less just because you want to move on.” The knowledge ripped through her. How could what they had shared have been a mistake?

Ethan stood stock still. His face an unreadable mask. “We knew this arrangement was temporary,” he said. “Why force either of us to expect anything else when we have to go our separate ways?”

His voice was stark, empty. Gone was the sensitive, giving man who’d cherished her the night before. Instead, the tough, take-no-shit guy stood in front of her, unwilling to admit the truth. Well, she’d be damned if she let him toss what they had into the trash.

“Bullshit,” she said. “You’re just so used to people dumping you that you think I will too. Better to move on first than be hurt.” And yet, in doing so he denied her feelings for him. Tarnished what they had with his stubborn refusal to accept what she had to offer. Her heart if he’d let her.

“You don’t need me anymore,” he said. “And I’m cool with that. Things get tangled up when situations get crazy. You were in danger. Afraid. And you turned to me. No way will I let you confuse all of that for anything more.”

Tears pricked hot behind her eyes and a razor blade scraped her throat raw. “From where I’m standing,” she said. “You’re the only confused person in this room, Ethan. I know what I feel. I know what I experienced with you was real. Yes. You’d lay down your life for me. But not just because I hired you. You’d do it for the same reason that I would do it for you. You care about me. And I care about you.” Please. Please let him hear her and believe her. Because if he didn’t, she’d have to do exactly what he wanted—move on.

A muscle jumped in his jaw and for a second, a brief moment, she thought he’d drop his guard and go to her, tell her he was wrong. Apologize. Hold her.

Instead, he shook his head. “I won’t hold you to something we both know wouldn’t have happened if John Pace hadn’t gone after you.”

The heat behind her eyes intensified, and she fought to restrain the threatening tears. No way would she let him see her cry again. Calling on every acting skill she possessed, she inhaled a deep breath and willed calm to flow through her. When the cooling waters of her determination slowed her racing heart rate to semi-normal, and the fire burning in her throat subsided, she moved to stand inches away from him.

“Of course,” she said quietly while holding his gaze. “I understand completely. Please give Hank Patterson my regards when you report back to him. I’ll be sure to recommend the Brotherhood Protectors’ services in the future.”

She waited, refusing to budge one inch until he nodded curtly. “Goodbye, Delaney,” he said, then stepped around her and exited her bedroom.

“Goodbye, Ethan,” she whispered as she sat on her bed and gathered the last remaining shreds of her self-worth around her so she wouldn’t rush after him.

Within fifteen minutes, she heard his footfalls outside her door and then the grinding of her garage door opening, closing. Sighing, she forced herself to stand and get ready for her day. Showering alone, washing the scent of him off her skin, was an agony. After she’d dressed and fortified herself with several strong cups of her favorite coffee, Delaney found a way to lose herself and all her regrets.

Reading through her next movie production’s script, memorizing her lines, mentally pacing herself through the scenes restored her equilibrium. Hours passed, and day turned to night.

Sitting down with a bowl filled with popcorn, Delaney picked up her remote control, switched on her television and queued up a Cary Grant movie. Classics had always been her go-to when she wanted to escape reality.

A knock sounded at the door, and her heart kicked into overdrive. Maybe Ethan had finally come to his senses. She set her bowl on the ottoman in front of her, then hurried to answer.

But when she opened the door, her stomach clenched. Disappointment warred with the desire to commiserate. “Kerry Ann,” she said, stepping aside to let her in. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m so glad to see you. I could use a friend right now.”

Kerry Ann smiled, but it didn’t reach her hazel eyes. “You’ve had quite a little adventure, that’s for sure,” she said, smoothing her hands down her pencil skirt. “But don’t you worry. This party’s not over yet. Not by a long shot.”

There was a bitter edge in her tone, and Delaney snapped her gaze to Kerry Ann’s face, which she suddenly realized had been made up to mimic Delaney’s. And her hair. “When did you decide to go auburn?” she asked, her pulse accelerating and adrenaline zipping tingles into her fingertips.

“Last night. I love it, don’t you?” Kerry Ann asked snidely. “The shade isn’t exactly like yours. But it’s close enough, I think, to get casting directors to notice who the real star is around here. You were never good enough for Hollywood.”

Delaney’s blood ran cold, and thousands of spider legs climbed the length of her spine and crawled into her scalp. “I didn’t know you were going to audition again,” she said coolly though everything in her screamed to get out and run away. “I wish you’d told me. I’d have been happy to set up some interviews.”

“Oh, I’ve already accepted several audition requests from my agent.” Kerry Ann circled the room, fidgeting with her purse straps. “Though it’s a pity I had to break my contract with him. Laurence was good.”

“Your? I mean, yes, he was good.” Delaney edged her way toward the kitchen. If she could get to her purse, grab her keys, she had a fighting chance to get away before whatever sick twisted thing was going on in Kerry Ann’s brain pushed her to do something drastic. “I’m sorry you had to let him go.”

“Not me,” Kerry Ann said, pulling a gun from her purse and training the barrel on Delaney’s chest. “I just wish I’d hired a better flunky than John Pace. But then he always was a fuck up.”