She unwrapped her arms from his neck but didn’t step away. “Maybe the butler is going to pack your bags?”
Reality crept in. That didn’t make any sense. Rhys tucked her behind him. “I didn’t tell them I was leaving this place. Stay back.”
She didn’t.
“Jules, really. Give me a second.” Rhys checked the peephole. A delivery man wearing a resort uniform and holding an armful of flowers waited. “What the hell is going on now?” He gave her another look to cement her in place then opened the door. “What’s up?”
“Flowers for Jules Lowry.”
Son of a man whore.His gaze narrowed. “From who?”
The delivery man offered a small card and the bouquet. Rhys only took the card.
“Who’s it from?” Jules asked.
It only took a second to decide those flowers weren’t coming inside. He crumpled the card in his fist, tipped the delivery man, and sent him on his way with the bouquet.
“I don’t want to know, do I?” she asked.
“Who knows you’re here besides Abigail?”
“And whatever paparazzi Sloane had trailing us? No telling. What did the card say?”
“Some bullshit that you look tired and should stay here to relax.”
Her shoulders straightened, and anger cooled her jewel-toned eyes. “Relax or retire?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Rhys? What did it really say?”
“You know what it said,” he muttered. “Damn it. I don’t get it.” Whoever the stalker was had to be on Sloane’s list of photographers. They were more or less aware of where she was and had telephoto lenses to figure out the details. Someone could have watched her come in last night and return again after breakfast.
He pictured the escalating messages from over the years that they’d attributed to the person she called her stalker.
You looked tired.
You should get rest.
You’re run down.
Dark circles much?
Could have done better.
Never deserved that part.
Stealing roles from deserving actresses.
Time to retire.
Used-up has-been.
Your time’s up.
It’s time. Retire.
They read like a parasocial relationship gone off the deep end and didn’t match any of the weirdos who’d fantasized about Jules over the years. Those people had come and gone. Retire Guy didn’t make sense and had stuck. They couldn’t get rid of him. That had never worried Rhys. Until now.
