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  “I always expect it. I just hope I can stop it before it gets serious.”

  Barney handed him a card. “Ring me if you need anything while Ms. West is at home.”

  “Will do. Thanks for your help. Night.”

  “Good night.”

  Cutter pulled away from the guard stand as soon as the arm raised. Silence prevailed until they pulled into her driveway.

  Please let that be the end of the conversation about blackmail . . .

  As soon as Cutter shut off the SUV, he turned to her. “Wait here.”

  The man was all business as he hopped out, scanned the area intently, then opened the passenger door and offered her his hand.

  She took it, already steeling herself for the flurry of tingles she knew would fill her the moment they touched. Cutter never looked at her in a way that seemed sexual . . . and yet she felt almost undressed when he studied her.

  Once her fingers touched his, yes, there it was. The jolt of excitement. The physical reaction to him. A little gasp escaped Shealyn’s throat. God, she’d never felt anything like this in her life. Why him? Why now? What the devil did it mean?

  Cutter turned to her, his eyes zeroing in, darkening. An accompanying tremor went through his big body the instant their gazes connected. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull away. The moment sizzled. Realization hit Shealyn. She wasn’t the only one who felt the unbearable pull between them.

  “Ms. West?” It was a question. His steady voice reminded her of their professional relationship while asking if she really wanted to cross the line into something more personal.

  Did that mean he was willing to?

  Her life was already too complicated for the answer to matter. Besides, she could hardly chastise Maggie for falling on Sawyer’s penis if she was foolish enough to fall on Cutter’s now.

  Shealyn pulled her head together and withdrew her hand. “Sorry. I’ll wait on the porch.”

  He gave her a curt nod before they made their way to her front door together. She might want to ignore the man . . . but she was keenly aware of him inches from her back. The heat of his body enveloped her, despite the fact they weren’t touching at all.

  As she dug through her purse for her key, he whipped one from his pocket and unlocked the door.

  With a scowl, she turned to him. “Where did you get that?”

  “Under the flowerpot isn’t a good place to hide your house key. Who else knows it’s there?” He escorted her into the dark foyer and shut the door behind him, blocking out the moonlight and plunging the room into shadow.

  “Tower. My housekeeper. My sister. My PR rep, Sienna. Um . . .” She fumbled for the light on a nearby hall table, refusing to say a word about Foster. They’d parted ways months ago, and he wasn’t in any position now to use the key. “No one else relevant.”

  When a diffused glow seeped through the lamp shade, she saw Cutter scowl. “I want to hear about everyone, even the ‘irrelevant’ people. Contractors, handymen, former pals, ex-boyfriends . . . They’re all suspects.”

  Cutter was smart and persistent. If he kept on, how long before he figured out the dangerous truth? “You said we would talk on the drive. We did. Now I’m home and I’m going to bed. I have to be up in less than six hours.”

  “If you won’t let me solve this, you’re going to be a quarter of a million dollars poorer and have a blackmailer on the loose who will know you’re afraid of the video he’s holding over your head. You want to be his victim?”

  “I want you to leave this alone.”

  “Why? What else are you hiding, besides a fake boyfriend?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. You won’t tell me anything about your interaction with this snake and you’re avoiding my questions. I can’t help you much without the truth.”

  “I’m a woman who values her privacy, and you’re being an overly suspicious busybody. Do the job I’m paying you for and we’ll be just fine. Good night.” She turned and headed across the house, straight for her bedroom, aware of his stare on her.

  Just like she was aware of him pursuing her a moment later.

  He grabbed her arm and stayed her. “Don’t run from this. Let me help you.”

  Cutter was a man, so of course he believed he could solve her problems—and anyone else’s. That was impossible.

  Shealyn glared at his fingers wrapped around her, hoping he couldn’t tell how badly she was shaken by his touch. “Don’t badger me. And don’t touch me.”

  He hesitated, staring her down like he wanted to challenge her. Like he wanted to remind her that only minutes ago, she’d been all too willing to let him put his hands on her. Instead, he released her. “My apologies, ma’am.”

  His impersonal reply made her grit her teeth, even if it was for the best. “I need to leave here by six fifteen in the morning.”

  “Duly noted. I’ll be ready.” He nodded her way.

  “Good.” She turned her back to him, hoping to finally make her escape.

  “Just one question before you go. If you had to guess, who has the best reason to blackmail you? Gary James? Jessica Jarrett? Nicole Rogers? Someone else entirely?”

  Shealyn held in an annoyed sigh. Cutter was like a hungry dog with a juicy bone. If she didn’t give him something to chew on, he would keep digging until he found the prize.

  With a sigh, she braced herself against the frame of her bedroom door. “Gary James is in rehab in Colorado. After he was fired, I guess he hit rock bottom. He actually called to thank me for opening his eyes. So unless he’s got a split personality and a clone, I don’t think it’s him. Jessica has a reason to be angry, but not at me. I didn’t have her fired or convince anyone to write her off the show. Tower did. If she would want revenge against anyone, it’d be him. The only reason for her to blackmail me is pure spite.”

  “Or jealousy. It’s also possible she needs the money now that she’s unemployed.”

  “She comes from a wealthy family. Even if she’s not close to them, they won’t let her starve.”

  “Can you really tell me that size double-zero is more interested in her next meal than her pride?”

  Good point. “Yes, her ego is the biggest thing about her. But why wouldn’t she just go after the man who ended her big break?”

  “A logical person would, but I’m still not taking her name off my list.”

  “Whatever. Just don’t do anything with that list once you’re finished compiling it.”

  He ignored her. “Tell me about Tower’s ex, Nicole.”

  “Will it make you shut up?”

  “Maybe.”

  This man was infuriating. “They’re bedmates of convenience, have been for years. She wasn’t happy that she lost some of her public sparkle when he broke things off with her to be with me for the sake of the show, but I had nothing to do with that. It was also Tower’s idea.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She might feel threatened by you.” He stepped closer, almost into her personal space. “Besides, if she tarnishes his star, then she won’t be important on his arm if she manages to push you out of his spotlight. Right?”

  Shealyn suddenly regretted that she’d backed herself against a wall. Cutter loomed so close now, and her breathing wasn’t quite even. She had no escape except into her bedroom. And she didn’t dare wonder what would happen if she stepped in there and he followed.

  This close to Cutter, she could see that the bruise at his temple had faded a bit. The abrasion on his right cheek was healing. His lips were firm and full. Together with the stubble dusting his jaw, he looked dangerous.

  “Ms. West?” His words might be professional, but his voice deepened to something else entirely when his gaze caressed her face, dipped down to her throat, then grazed the swells of her breasts.

  She couldn’t breathe. And she couldn’t remember what he’d been as
king at all. “What?”

  A smile played at his mouth, as if he knew how much he rattled her and he liked it. “Nicole Rogers?”

  Shealyn looked anywhere except at him. “She can’t possibly see me as a terrible threat if I’m ‘dating’ Tower but she’s still sleeping with him. Does she want to push me out of the way in the hopes he’ll take her back as his public girlfriend? It’s likely. Nicole has a thing for Tower and she’s never caught on to the fact that he’ll never love anyone but Norah. But she never struck me as too stupid to understand that hurting my image would ultimately hurt his.”

  “You really don’t think any of these people would extort money from you, do you?”

  Cutter thought she was naive. It was in his voice. Fine. That was better for her than the truth.

  “No, but I don’t know who would. Now, I really need to go to bed. If I show up looking tired tomorrow, Tom will chew my ass out.”

  “Tom will chew out your ass a lot more if this mess makes a negative firestorm with the press that impacts your viewership. When and where are you supposed to meet the blackmailer? I’m assuming he wants you to come alone. If so, I need to look at the landscape, plan on ways to protect you when I can’t be right beside you.”

  “He hasn’t said yet.” She could be honest about that.

  Tapping his thumb against his thigh, Cutter stared as if trying to see through her and discern the truth. “Tell me the minute he does.”

  “I will.”

  “And think about what I’m saying. Once you pay this guy off, he’ll know for sure that he has power over you and I have no doubt he’ll use it.”

  Sadly, the blackmailer already knew. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “One more thing. Last night, I managed to secure the windows and doors in the rest of the house. Do you mind if I check the ones in your room?”

  She hesitated. The idea of Cutter in her most personal space made her feel stupidly excited and fluttery. Telling herself to get over it and him, she made her way to the nightstand and flipped on the little light. “Help yourself.”

  The low-wattage bulb did little to penetrate the darkness. In fact, the dim light only made her more aware of him and the watchful way he secured every entrance to her bedroom with his big hands, then turned to her again. “Has the guy threatening you ever indicated that he knows where you live?”

  “No.”

  “But he hasn’t said that he doesn’t, either?”

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Yet not only did you want to offload me to a hotel, when I insisted on staying here you put me in the bedroom farthest from yours. Why do you really want a bodyguard? Because it sure as hell isn’t to protect you.”

  “Like I said, I only need someone for the money drop.”

  “I know you think that. Ever been blackmailed?”

  “No, but—”

  “I’ve been around this block with clients before. Not only will this scum hang around because you gave him money, he might also be dangerous. Will keeping your secret matter so much if you’re dead? Think about that, Ms. West. Good night.”

  Then he left the room. Shealyn shut the door behind him and leaned against the slab of wood, surprised to find her heart racing and her breathing heavy. His scent lingered. Danger and arousal mixed, confusing and potent.

  What was she going to do, especially when he might be right? Stonewall his investigation. She didn’t have another choice. If she showed him the texted threat she’d received, he’d know the truth. Her secret could destroy everything and everyone in its path. No matter how helpful or trustworthy Cutter seemed, she couldn’t give him the answers he sought.

  She also couldn’t give in to her attraction to him, no matter how tempting.

  CHAPTER 5

  When morning came, Cutter was prepared. A little after four A.M., he heard Shealyn tiptoe across the kitchen and ease her way down the hallway, past his bedroom. When she pulled the front door open, it creaked for a mere moment. He leaned around the corner and saw her dressed in a tank, spandex pants, and running shoes. Earbuds dangled over her neck, attached to the phone strapped around her slender arm.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked into the morning hush.

  She gasped and whirled to face him, palm pressed to her chest. “You scared the devil out of me.”

  Not as much as the blackmailer sneaking up on her and demanding more money—or else—would. “Heading out for a run?”

  “I have to. I’ve seen my costumes for the rest of the season. I swear they’re getting skimpier . . . I’ll be back in forty-five minutes. Don’t worry about me.”

  “If you think that’s happening, you haven’t been paying attention.” He grabbed his running shoes and let himself out of the bedroom, glad he’d slipped on a T-shirt and athletic shorts once he’d climbed out of bed. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Did you miss the part where I said I was running?”

  Cutter laughed. “Don’t you think I can keep up?”

  Shealyn looked him over like he had a good point. “No, but you don’t have to—”

  “Come with you? It’s my job. And you shouldn’t head out for a run without water.” He rushed to grab two bottles from the fridge, then handed her one. “Let’s go.”

  Her expression said she’d wanted to be alone and wished he wouldn’t tag along. Too bad.

  “Standing here and disagreeing only wastes time, and you have to be at the studio early,” he pointed out. “You want to argue or run?”

  Shealyn sent him a heavy sigh. “Let’s go.”

  He gestured her out the door and locked it behind him, tucking the key into the little pocket inside his shorts. “Where to?”

  “Follow me.”

  She started with a few stretches and a fast walk before she found the road that wound through the hills surrounding her house, past a few other mega mansions. No one was out. Not a single light illuminated a front porch or kitchen window. It was seemingly just the two of them in the world right now, their deep breaths, the rhythmic falls of their feet, and the last of the silvery moon.

  “What do you think of L.A. so far?” she asked.

  Cutter figured she was making small talk so he didn’t ask her more questions she’d rather avoid. He’d play along, gain some trust, see if he could open her up to him. “It’s definitely different. I live in Lafayette, so I have a lot of big-city conveniences . . . but nothing like this. Was it culture shock when you first moved out here?”

  “Oh, my goodness, yes. I couldn’t believe how expensive everything was. Back home, a million dollars would buy you the most palatial house in town, along with a new car and a snazzy boat. Out here? That gets you a one-bedroom condo in Studio City. You really can’t touch anything in Bel-Air for that price, unless it’s the size of a postage stamp.”

  “Your place must have been a great investment,” he remarked to help grease the camaraderie between them.

  “I nearly choked when I heard the price tag. It’s ridiculously expensive, but it felt enough like home that I could live here. But then there’s the cost of everything else. Groceries are more expensive. So is eating out, joining a gym, having your hair done . . . I thought I was going to have to sell my car and crawl back to Texas the first year I lived here. I was always broke.”

  “I can believe that, but you’ve acclimated and done well for yourself.”

  “Thanks. I had to. I refused to go back to Comfort with my tail between my legs.”

  “Fair enough. So has fame been all you hoped it would be?”

  “Yes. And no. I wanted to act, not necessarily be famous. I’ve enjoyed working steadily. I like not worrying about money anymore. Most important, I can send cash home for my grandparents, who raised me, and my little sister without a second thought. That was always part of my goal, since we didn’t have much while I was growing up.
They certainly didn’t have the money to retire or travel. Now they do. I also don’t miss taking cranky commuters’ coffee orders at five A.M. Or bringing horndogs at a strip club their cocktails at midnight. But I miss the freedom of walking down a street in anonymity. I hate the lies tabloid rags print about me, especially because 95 percent have no basis in fact whatsoever. I especially love the story that purported I was secretly sleeping with Gary James behind Tower’s back so he would convince the producers that I should be the star of the show.”

  “I take it you weren’t?”

  She snorted as her feet pounded the pavement. “Of course not. Besides, Gary would far rather sleep with Tower. He doesn’t play for my team.”

  “Ah. But he was married to that singer with the high-pitched voice who used to front a metal band . . .”

  “Asha Leigh? Yeah, the marriage gave her more credibility after she went solo, and she was his beard.”

  “Why would he need one? I didn’t think anyone in Hollywood cared if someone was gay these days.”

  “They don’t. But his family heaped some Catholic guilt thing on him. Hence, the drinking.”

  They ran for a few moments in companionable silence. He watched Shealyn’s easy gait. She ran at this pace a lot, he could tell. She looked comfortable as she concentrated on the street, soft panting breaths rising and falling with the sweet bounce of her breasts. Watching her, sweat began pouring off Cutter in a way that had little to do with their jog. The rapid beat of his heart wasn’t completely about the exercise, either. Even damp with perspiration and lacking any hint of makeup, Shealyn was still beyond beautiful.

  “Tell me about your hometown.” She slanted a glance at him. “About you.”

  “Not much to say. Sunset is a speck on a map, always has been. My father ran off when I was a kid and left my mama alone to raise me and my older brother. We did all right.”

  “Sorry. My mother ran off when I was a kid, too. I know it hurts.” Her eyes lit with sympathy.