“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

This, coming from Lena Lyons, one of the world’s most famous Hollywood actresses, who’d had a sum total of five stalkers during her career so far, was entirely reasonable. For me, who had built my career as a child star on being sweet and likable, it was harder to take.

“It’s probably not even a stalker,” added Ally, pouring batter into the frypan.

After forty-eight hours of keeping the worrying image to myself, I’d caved last night and asked Lena if I could see her and Marc first thing this morning. I wasn’t due on-set until mid-morning so no one would be suspicious of my absence—least of all Faith.

While Faith and I had grown closer in recent weeks due to working alongside each other, I wasn’t ready to tell her about the image yet. Faith’s loyalty bordered on ferocious at times, and I didn’t need her championing my cause when I wasn’t even sure if it was anything to be worried about.

Instead, Lena had been the natural person to contact. For one, she’d had experience with this sort of thing, plus she was one of the calmest people I knew. She was also in a relationship with Marc Romero.

Ally being there was a nice surprise. Her mega-star boyfriend Jake currently had an intense filming schedule, like I did, so she was taking the opportunity to catch up with Lena. Although I suspected her presence this morning was probably orchestrated. Ally was already midway through her first batch of pancakes when I arrived. To her Italian way of thinking, food fixed everything.

I forced myself to consider Ally’s words. “God, I hope not.” I hadn’t even contemplated that I might have a stalker. So far I’d convinced myself it was a nasty person who liked to intimidate people online.

Marc strode into the room wearing a pair of fitted jeans and a tailored black shirt. A brief look passed between him and Lena. It was one of those intimacies that couples who trusted each other shared. Loaded with love, desire, and above all, understanding.

“We can’t assume anything at the moment,” Marc said, and held out his hand for my cell phone without so much as a greeting.

I was always a little in awe of Lena’s take-charge boyfriend. It didn’t help that he appeared more like a Spaniard model than a former US Marine turned Hollywood security specialist. His looks were to die for, if you liked dark, brooding types. Lena had always claimed she didn’t, but we knew otherwise now.

I handed him my phone, already open on the image.

“Mmm. You’re right. This was taken further out from shore. It’s not like any of the ones in the media.”

It shouldn’t have surprised me that Marc had already studied the images that had made the tabloids. And his assessment was what I had been worried about. The image was unlikely to have been taken by a reporter. “I’m assuming you won’t be able to track the number?”

“We’ll try, of course. Most likely it’s a stolen phone or one we can’t trace.”

I sighed. I’d thought as much. “I’m sorry to waste your time. I wasn’t even going to mention it—”

“Of course you should have mentioned it! Do you mean you hadn’t told anyone until now?” Ally demanded, her protective tendencies going strong.

“Well, I wasn’t going to tell Mama because it would freak her out. Or Faith. She wouldn’t be freaked out, but she’d probably launch a private investigation herself. Honestly, I’ve been trying so hard not to freak out myself, I don’t need other people freaking out, too.”

Marc frowned. “No one needs to freak out, but as you’ve seen with Lena, these things can escalate quickly.” At my distraught expression, Marc held up a hand. “This is probably not one of those situations, Chloe, but it’s better we’re across it now in case.”

“In case what?” Ally pointed the spatula at him menacingly.

Marc grimaced. “In case there are more images. I honestly don’t see any reason to panic at this stage. There have been no threats to Chloe personally.”

“But they have her number,” Lena reminded him quietly.

He walked over and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Yes, they do. And as much as we like to think celebrities are protected, there’s ways around the barriers we put up. Don’t worry, I’m going to be overseeing this one myself.”

“Thank you Marc,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

He nodded.

“How are you enjoying the new training division?” I asked. I didn’t want to dwell anymore on the image—I’d done enough of that the previous two days. Now that Marc was looking into it, I had to try to put it out of my mind.

Marc flashed me one of his rare smiles and Lena smiled too.

“I’m enjoying it,” he said, his dark eyes lighting up. “We’ve got some really talented men in the program.”

Marc had decided after Lena’s last stalker that he wanted to train security specialists like himself to work with celebrities and other high-profile people, including politicians. I was pleased to see the decision appeared to be agreeing with him. I also knew it gave him more time to be with Lena, and I couldn’t be happier for the two of them.

“Alright. Breakfast is ready,” Ally announced.

“I’ve got to run,” Marc said.

“Unless you want me to use this spatula like a weapon, I suggest you sit down and eat a proper meal for a change.”

Marc tried not to smile but failed. “I like it when you’re in LA, Ally. Have I told you that?”

“Not in so many words, but you like my pancakes more.”

“It’s true, I do.” With a shrug, as if to say ‘who am I to fight it?’, Marc sat down next to Lena.

An hour later I was on my way to the set, the image a distant memory.

*

WHEN I ARRIVED HOME after filming it was close to midnight. I was too exhausted to think about anything, let alone threatening messages.

Damon was probably still awake, but I slipped off my heels and crept up the hall quietly so as not to wake him if he had gone to bed. It really made no sense that our bedrooms were so close together in this gigantic house, but neither of us had ever felt the need to change things.

I closed my bedroom door with a soft click behind me and dropped my shoes onto the rug with a muted thud.

“Hey, honey.”

I squealed in terror and whirled around.

“Shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Gabe leapt up from the bed—my bed—and rushed over to me. He held me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes.

It did nothing to slow my racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

“Damon and I were jamming.” His expression turned sheepish. “And I wanted to see you again.”

I put a hand to my chest as though that would calm my erratic breathing. “You scared me.”

“Yeah. I got that. I’m really sorry. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Oh boy. That didn’t do anything to ease my labored breathing. Judging by the look in his eyes, my line of thinking was similar to his.

“You still owe me a goodbye kiss,” I suggested innocently.

“I do. But does that mean I’m leaving?”

He smiled and pushed a curl away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. My forehead tingled where his finger had grazed my skin.

“How about a hello kiss then?”

He grinned. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

And finally, finally, Gabe’s lips were on mine and it was better than I could have imagined. I hadn’t realized how much I had been longing for this moment until my entire body melted against him.

He wrapped his arms around me and I would have pooled in a puddle at his feet if he hadn’t been holding me up. I opened myself to him instinctively and his low groan lit a fire in me I was powerless to stop. The taste of him inside my mouth, sweet and salty, and ever so slightly wicked, fanned the flames more.

I wove my hands around his neck, pulling him even closer. I had no idea who I was right now, but whoever she was, she seemed to know exactly what to do. I arched my body into his, feeling his hardness grinding against my stomach, but I still couldn’t get him close enough.

He growled this time and nipped at my lips, while I breathed him in. His hand traveled down the curve of my back and settled on my backside. I shuddered as he kneaded it, pushing me against him again.

“Jesus, Chloe.” Gabe broke free and stepped back, breathing heavily.

“Gabe?” What had I done wrong? I was the first to admit I’d shown a distinct lack of control, but it had definitely been reciprocated.

“That’s not a kiss,” he muttered, sounding breathless.

“It wasn’t?” I took a tentative step toward him.

“No,” he said, sounding more sure of himself. “It wasn’t.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Well, I know I’m not the most experienced and—”

Gabe moved forward and caught me in his arms. “Could have fooled me.”

“What?” Oh, my head hurt. I was still tired, and now I was confused. I also had an unreasonable amount of what I figured were crazy sex hormones making me feel woozy.

“Chloe Kemp,” he whispered. “That was indescribable.”

“It was?”

“God, you’re so sweet. Dirty sweet. It kills me.”

“It does? I just wanted to kiss you. I’m sorry if it got a bit . . . much.”

Gabe pressed his forehead to mine and his eyes crinkled with a smile. “Nothing about you is too much, trust me. It’s just when you kiss me like that . . . ”

“Oh. Oh. I get you.” Cue embarrassing blush. “Yeah, well, same here.”

His eyes darkened, but not with the rolling storm clouds I’d seen that day when he was angry about Johnnie. This time the darkness was a promise that took my breath away.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I whispered. “But I think you should probably go now.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea.” Gabe held onto my hips like he was having a hard time letting go, but then finally stepped back. “So I’ll see you for dinner next week?”

“I can’t wait.”

Gabe nodded and started for the door.

“Wait,” I cried. So much for self-control.

He stopped but didn’t turn around.

I inhaled a shaky breath. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. “How about a goodbye kiss?”

Gabe didn’t need to be asked twice and in one swift move I was up against the back of the door.

Our goodbye kiss lasted a very long time.