Miriam checked the locks on the doors for the fifth time. She glanced out the side-door window at the copse of trees closest to the house. It was almost full dark outside, but up here in Coos Bay, Oregon, all the trees surrounding the house made it seem murky and dark even in the daytime. She’d only been here a couple of days and it had rained off and on the entire time, making her question her wisdom almost every hour. She should’ve escaped to the Caribbean or Maui, full of bright sunshine to chase the shadows of Greg away. Instead she hid in a forest of pine trees and redwoods, wishing she dared go outside and explore and hike.

To pass the time, she’d buckled down and gotten to work. The sound of her own voice recording audiobooks kept her company, though it was a little eerie. The closeness of the flimsy foam walls of her portable sound booth made her feel claustrophobic, something she’d never felt before Greg started his threats. The sound booth at her cottage in Alabama was her sanctuary. This collapsible one was much smaller, but it was all she had right now.

She walked into the kitchen. A cup of cocoa might help her relax, but she’d hardly dared sleep since she came here. Hopefully no one knew where she was. She felt bad not sharing her escape plans with her parents, but she didn’t know to what lengths Greg would go to in order to find her, and she wasn’t going to put her parents in danger. This house was in her mom’s best friend’s name, a connection she didn’t think Greg would find. Her family had come here a few times when she was in middle school and thankfully Miriam had always been good with directions. She knew her adopted aunt, Judy, wouldn’t mind her staying here, and Miriam also knew Judy’s family spent Christmastime in St. Thomas so she would have the place to herself. Thank heavens the key had been hidden in the same spot under the wraparound porch and the power and everything was still on.

It really was the perfect place to hide—no neighbors, private, and quiet. If only it wasn’t also kind of spooky. Rain tapped lightly against the windows, and the constant darkness was just … terrifying.

Miriam tried to laugh at herself as she pulled milk out of the fridge and a saucepan from a hook above the cooktop. Sadly, Greg had knocked the laughter out of her with his scare tactics since she’d dumped him. She couldn’t believe she’d dated him off and on again for eight and a half years. She was truly the worst judge of character on earth. He’d always been so charming and considerate when they were dating, and he worked hard to get her back when she repeatedly rejected his marriage offers as well as his wandering hands. When she called it quits for the final time last month and told him there was no hope of them getting married, his true character came out, and it was ugly. The notes repeatedly warned her she could only be his, and then he’d killed her beloved Susie. Tears threatened to surface at the memory, and she blinked quickly. She missed Susie almost as much as she missed Alabama. Who knew what an unstable person was willing to do if they could kill an innocent cat? She didn’t wait around to find out.

Hopefully if she hid out for a while, either the police would find proof of the harassment he’d done or he’d give up and move on. Not a great plan, but it was all she had right now.

A hard rap on the front door penetrated to every cell of her body. Miriam jumped and screamed, spilling milk all over the cooktop. She clapped a hand over her mouth and dropped to the kitchen floor. Greg couldn’t have found her. No, no, no. It was … a neighbor. She didn’t have any neighbors. The local pastor checking in? How would he know anybody was here? She’d kept the blinds closed tight, had an Uber driver drop her off from the airport after a quick stop at the grocery store, and there were acres of trees around.

Her heart slammed against her rib cage. The knock came again and she could’ve sworn a man’s voice called her name. No! Oh, please, Lord. She prayed harder than she’d ever prayed.

Miriam cowered on the floor for a few more seconds, but then she steeled herself to battle. She wasn’t letting Greg take her without a fight. His last note taped to her car mirror had insisted he would possess her no matter what it took. Possess. Seriously? He was so gross.

She crawled across the kitchen and slowly slid open the knife drawer. Her hands were slick as she reached up and closed her fingers around a long-handled knife.

Please protect me, she prayed, and then she stood on trembling legs. She wanted to go hide under the covers until he went away, but if he’d come this far he wasn’t going to give up easily. Better to fight him prepared than to hide and wait for him to come for her. Her hand tightened on the knife. How in the world was she going to fight him? She wasn’t going to fling open the door and jab a knife into him.

She hurried to the den, where she’d left her purse near her sound booth, and rummaged through the pockets until she found her phone. She’d switched it off when she left home and hadn’t dared use it the past two days—who knew if Greg could somehow track the number—but surely the police could come and help her, save her. Switching the knife to her left hand, she held the button to power the phone up. Her hands shook.

Her eyes darted to the entryway. There hadn’t been any more knocks or anything. Had the person left? Was it truly Greg? What if there were some neighbor a mile away who was trying to bring her cookies and she was going to bring the SWAT team down on their heads? Her phone finally powered up, asking for the four-digit code. Seriously. Not now! She typed it in with trembling fingers, trying to listen for any out-of-place noises.

The back door off the kitchen opened and closed softly. She’d just checked that door, and it was locked! Footsteps sounded through the kitchen, then into the front room. Miriam’s breath whooshed out and she fumbled with the phone, dropping it onto the hardwood flooring. It hit with a crack like a gunshot. She clung to the knife with the little strength she had left as she swooped down to retrieve her phone.

Someone grabbed her left hand and she screamed, trying to pull the knife back, but his grip was too strong.

“Mar! It’s me!” The man spun her to face him, and all of the air whooshed from her lungs.

Shock raced through her. What was he doing here?

“Clay!” Miriam could not believe it. It truly was him. Clay Browning. Tall, blond, model-handsome, with those bright blue eyes and that flirtatious smile and that perfectly sculpted body that she used to daydream about, back when daydreams had been part of her life.

She dropped the knife and the phone on a side table, flung herself into his arms, and clung to everything that was good. He smelled like warm, spicy cologne. Miriam closed her eyes as Clay’s arms came around her and held her tight. Was this a dream? She’d seen him off and on throughout the years, but they’d never been close, never dated like she’d always hoped. He was the Clay she remembered, just more mature and rather nice to hold on to.

“Whoa, darling, if I would’ve known I’d get this reception, I would’ve broken into your house years ago.”

Miriam pushed away from him, stumbling from the realization that he hadn’t changed. Clay was a vicious flirt and never took anything seriously. She shoved at his chest, but he didn’t budge. He was real and he was here, and unfortunately for her unsteady nerves, it didn’t look like he was going away. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Your daddy hired me.”

She folded her arms across her chest and took another step away. The fear from a few moments ago was long gone, but a couple different emotions had rushed in—apprehension and excitement. It was hard to not like being around Clay, but she didn’t need the complications her attraction to him would bring. “My daddy … hired you?” She glared at him. “For what? A pinup model?”

He smiled and tilted his head to the side. “I know I look good, but I actually have a few skills in protection too.”

“You do not. All you’ve ever been good at is spending your billions of dollars and getting women to simper at your feet.” She knew he’d been in the military for four years after high school, but after that, he appeared to be the ultimate player. At least, it looked that way in the online photos she’d seen, when she’d googled him. Okay, it was pathetic that she’d googled him, but he was Clay Browning, a.k.a. Miriam’s dream man.

He spread his arms, and she couldn’t help but notice the definition from his forearms and biceps up through his shoulders and chest. Maybe he should find a shirt that wasn’t so … form-fitting. “Hey, I’ve got lots of talents. What can I say?”

Miriam pushed out a huffy breath. “You are not here. This is all some kind of crazy fantasy.”

“I know I’m the stuff fantasies are made of, but I really am here.” He sauntered a step closer, and that spicy cologne made her stomach heat up. “You want to enact some of those fantasies you’ve been having about me?”

She put a hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. Those muscles were real. Yikes. She dropped her hand and stepped back. “For one second, just for one, be serious. Why are you here, and how did you get in my house?”

Clay rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. Sheesh. What did he do with biceps that defined? Wrestle bulls?

Focus, Miriam!

“Your daddy called me, said Greg was threatening and stalking you and I had to find you. So I found you, and now I’m here to watch over you.”

Watch over you? She would not survive with this man in the same town, let alone the same house. Her throat was dry and all those daydreams she used to have about him rotated through her mind. She’d been terrified minutes ago, and now she felt like she was on a tropical island with every fantasy coming true. Sadly, her dream man was the same guy who lived to tease her and loved every woman he could get his arms around. She needed a more moral dream man, but you couldn’t control dreams.

“How did you get in?” she demanded.

“I told you: I have skills.” He smiled and finally admitted, “I was special ops in the Army and I’ve worked in private security since then.”

“You’re being serious now? This isn’t some bull crap line that Clay Browning is giving me?”

He smirked. “You can believe whatever you want, sweetheart.” He took a step closer, and her legs betrayed her by not backing up. “But do believe that I’m here and you I and are going to get real cozy.”

Miriam looked over his gorgeous face. She clenched her trembling hands together and swallowed hard. “I’m not one of your flavors of the week, Clay.”

He leaned in and sniffed her. “Ah. Yeah, I think you are. Vanilla with a hint of chocolate. My favorite flavor this week.”

Miriam’s eyes widened and righteous indignation rushed through her. She’d seen the pictures of different models and actresses Clay had dated since they’d been out of high school. She tried to remember how long ago that was. Over seven years. He had plenty of time and experience being a philandering womanizer since then. She’d always had a thing for him, and all he’d ever done was tease her and smirk at her. He had that raised eyebrow and pretty-boy smile down to a science. Not once had he asked her out, but he’d asked plenty of others out. Dated every pretty girl within a hundred-mile radius.

Miriam ducked away from him and almost ran to the stairs. “If you’re here working for my daddy, then make yourself useful and lock up the doors before you head to bed.”

He grinned at her. “Loving the Southern hospitality, darlin’.”

“Don’t plan on any hospitality. You do your protection job and stay far away from me.”

Clay’s low chuckle washed over her as she fled up the stairs. She hurried into the master suite and locked the door, not that locked doors would keep Clay out. Leaning against the door, she breathed in and out, but it didn’t calm her down. Clay Browning. Her dream man in the flesh, claiming he was here to protect her. Worries about Greg finding and hurting her were far, far away. Yet she couldn’t let herself fall for Clay’s charm. If only the man she’d always wanted wasn’t such a tease and a ladies’ man. If only he was here for her, not to show off his combat skills and make more money he didn’t need from her dad.

Find How to Kiss a Billionaire .