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He was resisting turning on the TV or getting on the Internet. Not because he wanted entertainment, but because he knew it would be hard to resist searching for information onher. He prided himself on his self-control, yet memories of a beautiful woman he'd had the pleasure of dominating for three short hours months before refused to be quieted. While he'd been working, he'd forced himself to focus only on his mission, but short of worrying if the Volkovs had uncovered his real identity yet, he didn't have any company business to distract him from his favorite pastime–thinking of Khloe Monroe. Remembering the feel of her thick hair in his grasp as he'd fucked her–the sexy sounds she'd made as she'd allowed herself to come apart in his arms–the tears in her eyes as he'd crushed her during their brief good-bye–it all made his chest compress with an odd, empty feeling that heloathed.
Even after he took a five-mile run and a long, hot shower, he couldn't shake visions of his temporary submissive from his mind. Finally giving in to temptation, he took a seat in the plush leather lounge chair, the only furniture in his living room, and turned on the television. He spent a few minutes flipping through global news channels looking for updates on events happening halfway around the globe. But as he knew he would, he eventually found himself stopping on the entertainment channels, looking for news out of Hollywood. It was a waste of time. What were the chances of them doing a story onKhloe?
When a small rectangle appeared over the anchor's shoulder with a smiling Khloe in it, his heart lurched. He scrambled to turn up the volume, not wanting to miss any part of thestory.
"Inside sources on the set of Khloe Monroe's newest movie report the actress has received several threats.Inside Editionhas confirmed that security in and around the Burbank studio where she is currently filmingSmuggled Dreamsis at its highest level. This coming on the heels of the police activity at her New York City apartment building last week have insiders concerned for Ms. Monroe'ssafety."
Ryder sat up in the chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, getting closer to the TV as he watched footage of a burly guy with tattoos, his arm around her waist, pushing a frightened looking Khloe through a throng of fans gathered for her autograph. He gritted his teeth watching her bodyguard shielding her with his ownbody.
Jealousy doesn't look good on you,Helms.
The story continued. "Sources close to the studio are concerned that the Hollywood opening of Khloe's critically acclaimed movie,Dirty Business,might be in jeopardy. It's reported that Khloe Monroe is having second thoughts about taking to the red carpet this Thursday evening with her stalker still at large. Co-star and boyfriend, Dean Reynolds, is said to be very concerned for the love of hislife."
The story cut to the close-up of some pretentious asshole who appeared to be enjoying his time in the spotlight. The words 'Exclusive Interview' crawled along the bottom of the screen as theInside Editionreporter spoke with Khloe's boyfriend. "I'm not allowed to talk about the investigation. Just know that Khloe has been in danger and those of us who love her the most are working to protect her as best we can until the culprit behind the threats against her person is incustody."
Of course she has a boyfriend now, asshole. Why would she be waiting for you? You threw her away at the end of Valentine'sDay.
It didn't matter that it had been for her own good. He'd still hurt her. What she didn't know was it had hurt him to leave her there,too.
When the story ended, he flipped off the TV, pushing to his feet to pace his apartment again until he found himself in front of his laptop. He spent the next hour Googling all the information he could find on the recent threats against Khloe. He found photos from her on the red carpet in NYC the week before, looking exactly like the princess that he had nicknamed her. It only angered him more to find the asshole Dean Reynolds had been at her side and the bodyguard followed a few feet behind her. Two men who had a place in her life, unlikehim.
But it was the final photo he found, posted by some asshat paparazzo, of a terrified and barefoot Khloe being hustled to a limo in a dark alley wearing only a bathrobe. She was being carried by her bodyguard. Ryder stared at the photo for several long minutes, memorizing the tired lines of her face, a sick lump of pizza settling in hisgut.
Ah, Princess, what has you sospooked?
Chapter 6
The barricade gateat the security hut slid up, allowing the driver of the luxury SUV to proceed into the restricted area of the movie studio in Burbank, California. Khloe was comforted by the extreme vetting of all visitors to the historic studio. It gave her hope that the crazy stalker who'd been scaring the shit out of her wouldn't be able to get close enough to put her indanger.
Her driver today was Michael, an old friend of Trevor's. Together, the two men, who were each armed with pistols, bolstered her confidence. It allowed her to turn her focus back on the manuscript in front of her. She'd tried to study her lines for the last few days, but it had been hard to concentrate. Memories of the pictures plastered across all of the surfaces of her bathroom back in Manhattan continuously intruded into Khloe's thoughts at the most inopportune times. Worse, in the days following the break-in, new details had surfaced letting her know she'd been receiving escalating messages formonths.
To say her confidence with the team of people who surrounded her had been shaken would be an understatement. She couldn't banish the feeling that it was time to make some major changes in her inner circle, but it would have to wait. Already juggling a busy filming scheduled forSmuggled Dreams, her current film, and public relations appearances forDirty Business, adding on major personnel changes just wasn't a possibility. Layer on the threats and maintaining her pretend relationship with Dean, and her plate wasoverflowing.
Her stress levels were off the charts which meant she was only sleeping a little and eating evenless.
They'd entered through the back entrance to the studio and it took them almost five minutes to wind their way through the narrow streets between the mammoth sound studios where hundreds of popular, and not so popular, movies and TV shows had been filmed over the years. Michael didn't bring the SUV to a stop until he'd pulled into the parking lot where a line of a half dozen luxury motor coaches were lined up in an impressiverow.
Trevor got out first, opening Khloe's backseat door and holding his hand out to assist her from the vehicle. He may have been helping her exit the car, but his eyes were scanning across the entire area, assessing the space fordanger.
She'd been locked down at the NYC Marriott for three full days with her bodyguard, refusing to leave her suite and making the police come to her when they'd insisted on another round of interviews. Flying back to California had helped her relax marginally. She may be naive, but since the break-in had occurred on the other side of the country, it was easier to pretend she was safe again inCalifornia.
The morning sun was already hot for late April. It was a good thing she didn't need to spend much time outside or she'd need another shower before she went in for hair and makeup. The gust of air-conditioning welcomed her as Trevor held the door for her as she scaled the few steps up to her personaltrailer.
Being the lead female character did have itsperks.
The brightness of the sun had temporarily blinded her, so she didn't see the Kaplans sitting in the middle of the living space of the luxury motorhome until it was too late to retreat. She shouldn't have been surprised to see them, but she was. Before a word was uttered, she glanced around the room to see her personal assistant, Ricky, already there, avoiding making eye contact with her. Her costume, hair and makeup crew was there, waiting to get started on her transformation. They were smart enough to stay seated at the other end of the space in front of the large mirror that doubled as Khloe's dressingroom.
"I can't believe you cut off all contact with us, Khloe," Natalieattacked.
Khloe sighed, throwing her leather bag on the marble kitchen counter before crossing to the refrigerator to grab an ice cold sparkling water she'd asked always be stocked and waiting. Only after she took a swig did she answer herpublicist.
"I was onlockdown."
"Not fromus."
"From everyone," she answered flatly, refusing to let them intimidateher.
Natalie was so agitated she shot to her feet as Khloe took a seat in the comfortable lounge chair she liked to take a nap in if her schedule allowed forit.
