It was broad daylight, and Christian was right outside. As moody as he was, he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.
I didn’t know why, but I felt the conviction of that in my gut.
You’ll be fine.
I repeated the reassurance in my head as I went to the guest room—a.k.a. my new room for the foreseeable future—and changed out of my bathrobe into day-appropriate loungewear.
When I entered the dining room, Christian was already seated at the head of the table with a cup of coffee, a pen, and that morning’s newspaper crossword.
The table itself groaned beneath the weight of a full breakfast spread. Glass pitchers of coffee, juice, water, and tea gleamed next to platters of every type of breakfast item imaginable: eggs prepared six different ways, crispy bacon, fluffy lemon ricotta pancakes and Belgian waffles and French toast.
Croissants, muffins, and scones filled two large woven baskets, while a make-it-yourself smoothie bowl section boasted every fruit and topping I could think of.
It was a buffet for twenty, not two.
“Are you hosting a brunch party?” I asked, uncertain why anyone needed this much food for themselves.
“No, but Nina went all out, so you may as well enjoy it.”
Before I could ask who Nina was, a round-faced woman with a dark bun and cheerful smile entered the room.
“I’m Nina.” She gave Christian a disapproving glance before she handed me a glass of something green and creamy. “Wheatgrass smoothie, right?”
I relaxed beneath the warmth of her friendliness. “Yes, thank you. How did you know?”
This must be Christian’s housekeeper slash part-time chef. I’d never met her, though I knew she was the only person who had the keys to his house besides me.
“Mr. Harper told me it was your favorite.” She winked at me while Christian glared at her.
“That’ll be all for now. Thank you.” His polite dismissal only half masked the razor’s edge running beneath his voice.
Nina suppressed what looked like a laugh before she left.
“I see caffeine hasn’t improved your mood.” I loaded a plate with food and sat next to him. “I’d hoped it would bring Dr. Jekyll back. Mr. Hyde isn’t doing it for me.”
He’d always been on the aloof side, but I felt the distance between us vividly this morning.
“Funny. I see a night of sleep has improved your mood.” Christian folded the crossword and set it aside before he added, “How are you feeling?”
“Hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning,” I admitted.
I knew that wasn’t what he was really asking, but I didn’t want to talk about the note right now. I just wanted to eat and pretend everything was normal.
I tore off a piece of my croissant and popped it in my mouth. A sigh of pleasure rose in my throat.
Croissants were a gift of heaven. I was sure of it.
“Good. I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for, so I had Nina make a bit of everything,” he said, his tone gruff.
Warmth flickered to life in my chest.
I gave him a shy smile, touched by the gesture even though he wasn’t the one who’d cooked the food.
A faint hint of pink colored his cheekbones.
Was he…blushing?
Before I could make sense of the staggering sight, the pink disappeared, and Christian’s face turned to granite again.
“Since you’re here, we should go over the rules.”
My brow furrowed. “Okay…”
“You’re here because you’re in danger, and since you’re now fully under my protection, we need to take appropriate steps to secure your safety,” he said crisply. “Staying here until we catch the person who’s been leaving you those notes is the first step. My team will move the rest of your belongings in today. While you’re here, you will sleep in the guest room and adhere to the house rules. No bringing friends or men over…” His voice iced at the word men. “And no touching unrecognizable devices. There’s a fifty-fifty chance they could kill you. Other than that, consider this your home for the foreseeable future.”
Fifty-fifty chance they could kill me?What kind of devices did he own?
“Oh.” I forced a bright smile. “Well, who can resist a welcome like that? You really know how to make a girl feel all warm and fuzzy.”
Christian ignored my sarcasm. “It’s good that you’re not posting where you are in real time, but I want you to wait twenty-four hours to post instead of your usual three to four. Vary your schedule and keep it unpredictable, including the routes you take home. You will also have a bodyguard. Brock will look after you when you’re not with me. He’ll be unobtrusive; you won’t even know he’s there unless you need help. Finally…”
“Oh, good. I was afraid that was it. Go on.”
“You have to tell your friends the truth.” Christian fixed me with a hard stare. “If they don’t know you’re in danger, they can inadvertently put you in danger or be in danger themselves. Ignorance isn’t always bliss.”
My smile faded. A protest worked its way to the tip of my tongue before I squashed it.
Christian was right.
As much as I hated making my friends worry and having a bodyguard watching every move I made—similar to a stalker, though with less nefarious intentions—I needed the protection.
Plus, I couldn’t have my friends thinking everything was okay when it wasn’t. What if the stalker targeted them when he couldn’t get to me? I would never forgive myself if something happened to them because I didn’t give them proper warning.
My nails dug angry half-moons into my knees.