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While I lived in the Hollywood Hills, unlike many of the people I worked with, I didn’t grow up there. My mother was a night nurse at Cedars-Sinai, and she worked harder than any person I’d ever met in my life.

She would have a conniption if I hired a maid, not when I’m perfectly capable of cleaning and cooking for myself. After my first movie, I paid off the mortgage on her condo. I wanted to buy her a house, but we “compromised” on the condo. She didn’t want to get a big head about herbig-shot superstar daughter.

“Adrianne,” he said, and my name rolled off his tongue in a way that made me tremble all over.

What in the hell is wrong with me?

I wasn’t the girl who got instantly swoony over a guy. I had met some of the most beautiful people in the world, worked with them, and I had never felt a glimmer of attraction. “I’m worried that your production company hasn’t done enough to take care of you. They should have insisted on a bodyguard or a security detail.”

“I didn’t want a security detail,” I insisted, standing because I didn’t want him looking down at me. Ethan’s eyebrows pulled together in surprise. “Mr. Mercado, I have always taken care of myself. My mother raised me to handle my own problems, and until I found the bird on my doorstep this morning, I thought Iwashandling it. I purchased a highly rated security system, and I pay extra for around-the-clock monitoring. I never posted about my whereabouts when I had social media, and when the comments and doxing got too bad, I removed myself from social media entirely.”

He was quiet for a moment, and then he cracked a smile. “First, if I’m going to call you Adrianne, it’s only fair that you call me Ethan.”

His eyes seemed to assess me, and I tried to stand cool and unaffected under his gaze, but I’m sure he could tell that I was shaking. “Second, you’ve done well so far,” he conceded.

I smiled back. “Thank you, Ethan,” I said, “but I do think it’s time to turn things over to the professionals.”

“Agreed,” Ethan said. He reached out and picked up the conference phone on his desk. “Rue? Can you send in Callan and Foster, please?”

I didn’t hear his assistant’s reply, but no more than ten seconds later, the office door behind me opened.

The first man who came through the door was a smidge shorter than either of his colleagues. He had dark eyes and equally dark hair, and there was a hint of a tattoo peeking out of the collar of his shirt.I wonder how far down that tattoo goes, I thought.

The second man, a tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed Cali-surfer type, followed after him. Where the first man had an easy smile, the second barely looked my way.

Just like Ethan, these two were... devastatingly good-looking. I couldn’t decide which one I’d rather look at.

What is wrong with me?Had it been that long since I’d gotten laid or something? Where was all this coming from?

“Adrianne,” Ethan said, dragging my attention back to him, “these are my associates, Callan Shepherd and Foster Wyatt. They are the best of the best. I served with them in the Navy. I have literally trusted them with my life.”

The dark-haired one, Callan, laughed. It was a rich, good sound. He was the kind of guy who laughed easily and often. “Aww, LT, we love you too,” he said and reached out a hand. He had the kind of smile that could make a nun’s panties melt off.

Our eyes met as I took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said.

“You too,” I managed to choke out, and his smile grew into an all-out grin.Great, I thought,he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “You called him LT?”

“Lieutenant,” Callan explained. “Merc was our team leader.”

I shifted my gaze to Ethan, filing that information away for later, and then I looked at Foster, who was standing beside Callan like a blond shadow. I reached out a hand to him. “Adrianne Montoya,” I introduced myself.

Foster shook my hand in a perfunctory way, but his eyes slid over me slowly, branding me with only his eyes. “Foster Wyatt, ma’am,” he said.

Thema’ammade me giggle, and a wrinkle formed between his golden eyebrows. “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to stifle myself. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. I’ve just never been called ‘ma’am’ before.”

Foster’s face froze. “I apologize if I’ve offended you, Ms. Montoya.”

I waved my hands. “You haven’t offended me at all,” I promised him, and for a split-second, I got a smile from him. It was soft and a touch awkward, but it filled my stomach with butterflies all the same.

Those are the kinds of smiles that people do anything for, I thought. “And please, call me Adrianne.” I looked at Callan. “All of you. You’re going to be... protecting me, after all, right?”

Ethan nodded. “If you decide to hire us on,” he said. “Adrianne, here, has a stalker who’s escalating.”

Callan and Foster’s attention snapped to Ethan. “Escalating how?” Foster asked.

“I’ve been getting presents in my mailbox, drawings of me as Dr. Falconi, creepy fanfiction-type stories, stuff like that,” I told them and then pointed to the dead bird on Ethan’s desk. “Today, that was on my porch in a bouquet of roses.”

Callan’s warm smile dropped off his face, and I missed it immediately. It was like losing the sunshine. “Any threats?”


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