As Delaney pulled a slice of bread from the toaster and slathered on a pat of butter, she cast a surreptitious glance at Corbin who was at the table eating a bowl of cereal. Remnants of her dream the night before swirled around her, making her feel a sense of embarrassment. Geez. The dream had felt so real, like they’d actually kissed. She shook her head, willing herself to get a grip. It was only a dream, after all.

A guy had brought over Corbin’s luggage. Freshly showered, he wore a faded pair of jeans and snug black t-shirt that stretched over his wide shoulders, revealing the outline of his very defined pecs. Just as she’d suspected, he was a casual-clothes guy. His messy hair was still damp, and there was a faint sleep line along the edge of his right eye. She bit back a smile. He was darn cute and so very masculine at the same time. His presence filled her entire condo, making her keenly aware of him every second.

What she should’ve been thinking about, however, was her show tonight. She had to be at the top of her game. But that was hard, considering she’d hardly gotten any sleep. Aside from the stupid dream, every time she heard a noise, it sent terror racing over her. Several times last night, she’d been tempted to go into Corbin’s room and sleep on a pallet, just so she wouldn’t have to be alone. The only thing that kept her from doing it was pride. She didn’t want him to think she was throwing herself at him. It was embarrassing enough that he’d caught her checking him out at the party. And he’d certainly not hesitated to call her on it. She didn’t want to add fuel to that fire.

She took her plate and sat down at the table across from him. Act normal, she commanded herself. Don’t think about how the very sight of this man quickens your blood and starts the butterflies flapping in your stomach. This was a job for Corbin. Nothing else. She’d do well to remember that.

He pushed aside his empty cereal bowl and leaned back in his seat. “Let’s go over the plans for the next few weeks.”

She took a bite of toast, collecting her thoughts. “The main thing I have going this month is my album.” She told him about having to have the songs written and recorded by the end of the month. Then she rattled off a few other engagements. “Two months from now, I’m going on tour.”

He nodded. “Tell me about your ex-husband.”

She coughed, causing a crumb to get lodged in her throat. She reached for her glass and took a few gulps. She coughed again more forcefully this time, trying to clear her throat. Finally, she got the crumb to go down. Her cheeks went warm, then scalding hot when she saw the amusement in Corbin’s eyes, which were more gold than green today.

“Do I need to give you mouth-to-mouth?”

Her eyes popped. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

“Too bad,” he uttered in an intimate tone that sent tingles circling down her spine. She had to resist the urge to fan her face. Sheesh. She was blushing like a school girl. And from the look of his coy smile, he knew the effect he had on her. She sat up straight in her seat, trying to get a handle on herself. How was it that she could perform in front of thousands of people, then fall to pieces because Corbin asked her a simple question? “Why do you want to know about Tuck?”

“The more I know about Tuck and Hugh, the better.”

His voice was light, casual. But underneath the façade, she detected a keen interest. Or maybe she was reading too much into things. How much did she want to tell him? She didn’t like telling anyone about her relationship with Tuck, but she especially didn’t want to tell Corbin. There was an unreadable expression on his rugged features as he waited for her to expound. She shifted in her seat. The best way around this was to stick with the facts. “I met Tuck when I was sixteen years old. I never knew my father. My mother and I lived in a trailer park in Noble, Alabama. Hugh was our landlord.” She wasn’t about to tell Corbin that her mother and Hugh had a thing … even though her mother was ten years his senior. If Corbin wanted that bit of sordid information, he’d have to search it out himself. “Tuck and I got married when I was nineteen.”

“You were really young,” he mused.

“Yes.” She could tell he wanted her to say more, but she just sat there.

He rubbed his ear. “Why did you and Tuck get divorced?”

She tensed. “Is this really necessary?” He was her bodyguard, not her psychiatrist.

“I need to get the full picture. Any seemingly insignificant detail might prove useful.” His eyes probed hers with such intensity that it burned into her soul, stripping her bare. She knew for sure in that moment that Corbin’s interest in her past went beyond a professional level. He was interested in her, the same way she was interested in him. Their strong connection made little sense, but it was there nevertheless.

She ran through the options of things she could disclose. Her stomach churned as she thought about the beatings and how she’d ended up in the hospital, broken and battered. It was humiliating. Certainly not something she wanted to tell Corbin. She realized he was studying her. Then she caught something in his eye. Her hospital stay was public record. She held him with a look. “You already know, don’t you?”

He didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

The hair on the back of her neck rose as she clenched her teeth. What was this? Some sort of game? Or test? “Then why’re you asking me?”

“Because I want to hear it from you.” He paused. “I want to understand how someone like you could’ve ended up with him.”

Her back went ramrod straight when she caught the accusation in his tone. The defense she’d spent years building screamed in her mind. Because I was young … stupid. Desperate. The only daughter of a mother who was an alcoholic and druggie. I felt trapped and alone, then Tuck stepped into the picture. Ironic that the very person I thought would rescue me ended up being my undoing.

But she wouldn’t tell Corbin any of that. She’d hold the anger close the way she always did, putting on a good face for the world. That was the only hope she had of surviving this. The world knew her as Delaney Mitchell. Delores Millstead died a long time ago. She grunted, giving him a hard look. “To answer your question, I wish I knew why I ended up with Tuck. That’s the million-dollar question.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, pushing away her plate, no longer hungry.

He assessed her with thoughtful eyes. Finally, he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nope. I don’t buy it.”

Her brows scrunched. “What?” The nerve! Corbin didn’t even know her. He had no right to judge her.

“You know why you married Tuck. I can see it in your eyes.” He leaned forward. “But you won’t let anyone in, will you?”

Blood pounded against her temples. How in the heck could he read her so well? She let out a harsh chuckle. “All right wise guy … let’s talk about you. What skeletons do you have in your closet?” She saw it, that slight twitch in his eyes that let her know he was harboring secrets too. Then the mask came down as a smile tugged at his lips. “There’s that bite I saw last night at the bar. I knew the fighter was in there.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I’ll fight, but I don’t know how much good it’ll do me,” she said dryly. She’d fought Tuck for all it was worth … had thought she was finally out of his grasp … until Hugh showed up. Now things were infinitely worse than they’d been with Tuck. At least Tuck loved her in his twisted way. Hugh was dispassionate, analytical. He’d gut her like a fish, then toss her aside without a second thought. She’d witnessed firsthand what happened when people tried to go up against Hugh Allen. Those people disappeared, and often, their families did as well. A shiver went down her spine as she hugged her arms.

“You’ll need that fight,” Corbin continued. “I have a feeling this thing will get ugly before it’s over. From what I’ve learned about Hugh, he’s ruthless.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered. “Hugh has no regard for moral decency. No appreciation for human life.” Moisture rose in her eyes as she thought of her mother and how Hugh had destroyed her.

Corbin placed a hand over hers, sending electricity zinging through her. For a split second, all she could think about was his touch, how his skin felt against hers. She felt protected and invigorated at the same time.

“I give you my word that I’ll keep you safe.”

She nodded, unable to stop a tear from rolling down her cheek. Could Corbin really keep her safe? She could tell from the fierce look in his eyes that he believed he could. But he’d never met Hugh face-to-face. Maybe Hugh would destroy Corbin too. Her heart cried at that. No, she couldn’t think this way. Couldn’t let fear take hold.

He offered a reassuring smile. “I promise.”

The confident timber of his voice resonated in her chest, sending a wave of comfort over her. Maybe he could really help. In that moment, despite everything, she realized she was glad Corbin Spencer was here. She looked at their hands, panic slicing ribbons through her. She couldn’t get involved with Corbin, no matter how attracted to him she was. She was about to snatch her hand away, but his phone buzzed. He removed his hand from hers and answered it on the second ring.

No hello, simply, “Hey, Sutton.” She tensed when a shadow slipped over Corbin’s features. “I understand.” Corbin glanced at her. “I’ll tell her.” He ended the call with a heavy sigh.

“Tuck’s dead, isn’t he?” she managed to squeak.

“Yes.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. The room began to spin as her throat closed. She coughed, trying to get a good breath, but the suffocating panic was too thick to break through.

Corbin rushed to her side. “Are you okay?”

She stumbled to her feet. “He’ll come for me.” She had to get out of here … had to do something … but what?

Corbin put his arms around her. “I’m here.”

A sob rose in her throat as she buried her head in his shoulder and wept. Tears for Tuck whom she’d once loved. And tears for herself, for what lay ahead.

* * *

Corbin scowled when he saw the throng of reporters gathered in front of the recording studio, awaiting their arrival. He glanced sideways at Delaney who had her game-face on. Her make-up and hair were as perfect as any Southern Diva he’d ever seen, no trace of tears. He had to hand it to Delaney. She’d allowed herself a good cry on his shoulder, then pulled herself together and announced that she was keeping to her normal schedule. “I have an album to complete,” she said, squaring her jaw. “And I refuse to let the Allen brothers take one more thing from me. If Hugh wants a fight, then by golly, a fight is what he’ll get.”

While Corbin admired Delaney’s determination and spunk, he wondered if she should cancel tonight’s event with the senator. At the mere mention of the idea, Delaney went on a rampage. The woman was more stubborn than a moose. Corbin would simply have to do the best he could under the circumstances. The party was at six, with Delaney scheduled to perform at seven. Sutton’s security guys were going to the Senator’s home at 2 p.m. to do a thorough sweep of the area, make sure it was secure before Delaney’s arrival.

For the first time since he’d left the SEALs, Corbin wished he had a better relationship with his former comrades in Team 7. Had a one of them been present tonight, Corbin would’ve felt better. He was tempted to call Cannon to see if he could come. He and Cannon had a decent relationship, but not good enough to call on him last minute. No, he’d have to rely on Sutton’s security guys and his own prowess, hoping that would be enough. The good news was that Sutton had outfitted his SUV with an arsenal of firearms. Corbin was well prepared in that aspect.

He pulled the SUV alongside the curb and glanced in the rearview mirror at Anton. “You ready?”

Anton nodded. Technically, his shift ended a couple of hours ago, but when he learned about Tuck’s death and how the threat was now elevated, he agreed to accompany Delaney and Corbin to the studio. The plan was for Corbin to escort Delaney in the building while Anton parked the SUV.

Corbin’s senses went on full alert as he touched the Glock 19 pistol tucked in his belt over his right hip. He turned to Delaney. “You ready?”

She pushed her purse strap over her shoulder, her jaw tightening. “Yep.”

The reporters circled around Corbin as he got out of the SUV and hurried around to get Delaney. He paused before opening her door, his eyes scouring the road and surroundings, looking for any signs of a shooter. From what he could tell, the coast was clear. He put an arm around Delaney as they walked quickly towards the building.

A microphone was shoved in Delaney’s face. It was mass confusion, questions pelting them from every direction.

“How do you feel about your ex-husband’s death?”

“Do you feel responsible?” This came from a pretty reporter, her demeanor aggressive.

Delaney’s face was rigid, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

Corbin wanted to knock the vultures out of the way. Unable to do that, he gave them death glares instead. Not that it did any good.

“Will you still perform tonight at Senator Fleming’s birthday party?”

“Will you be attending Tuck’s funeral?”

“Is your upcoming tour cancelled?”

Corbin opened the door to the studio and they stepped in, leaving the pack of wolves outside. He felt Delaney’s shoulders sag in relief as they walked deeper into the building. Corbin also breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good.

Now, if they could just get through tonight, they might be okay.