Chapter Six
Alexa thought long and hard about Beth’s words about both Colin and Jamison. Her sister was right—she did need to be careful with Colin. She was still star-struck, and vulnerable to his possibly worldly ways.
As for Jamison, she would try tact. She really would. But it wouldn’t be easy.
Noon the next day proved her first opportunity to face her nemesis. Mostly because he had been working out, as usual, while she exercised, and she had chatted with Mart while she ate breakfast. A very friendly conversation, by the way. It proved she wasn’t totally inept when it came to maintaining a positive relationship with the opposite sex. After breakfast, she had hidden in her room and compiled more information into her computer from the voluminous scrapbooks Colin had leant her.
By lunchtime, her back ached and one eye twitched. Definitely time for a break. After shutting down the computer, she opened her door a crack and peeked into the living area. There was Jamison, restlessly prowling the length of the room.
His dark eyes immediately zeroed in on her. “Come on out. I don’t bite.”
Alexa flung open the door. “Like you’d dare.” Oops! Hadn’t she just promised to be civil? “I mean,” she said sweetly, “did you miss me?” Oops again! She sucked in a frustrated breath. “I mean,” she tried again, “did you have a splendid morning?”
He stared at her, possibly wondering if she had misplaced her mind. “I hope you don’t write like you talk. Colin will be up a creek.”
Outraged, she glared. Then she counted to ten. “Aren’t you pleasant?” She was pleased with her even tone.
He frowned. “What’s up with you, princess?”
Alexa gasped in another breath. This was so hard! “I’m trying to be civil,” she explained. “Don’t you know what that is?”
“Yes. But I’m surprised you do.”
Biting her lip, Alexa marched into the kitchen. Unfortunately, he followed her. Jamison leaned against a nearby counter while she prepared a cheese sandwich.
“So, how’s the writing coming?”
She flicked him a suspicious glance. “Fine.”
“Going to meet your deadline?”
“I plan to. As long as I don’t get a bunch of interruptions.” She closed her lips.
“Am I interrupting you?”
“Of course not.” She gave him a perfectly fake smile. “You are a wonderful living companion. You don’t smoke, you don’t chew, and you don’t throw rowdy parties. What more could I ask?”
“Speak the truth, princess.”
Would he never stop calling her that infernal, caustic name? Her temper bubbled, but she gulped a glass of water to otherwise engage her mouth. She wiped her lips. No reply was a good reply, she decided. Beth would be proud.
“You think I’m perfect now, is that it?” he had the gall to ask.
She bit her lip and glared.
“Come on, princess. You’re about to blow a fuse.”
“I am not!”
He crossed his arms and watched her.
“I am trying to make the best of this intolerable situation,” she gritted.
“Living in a luxurious flat is intolerable?”
“Living with you is intolerable!” she spurted. “Everywhere I go, there you are. I try to write, and I hear you watching TV. I want to run the stairs, and there you are. It’d be different if we could get along, but we already know that’s impossible!”
“It’s not a cakewalk for me either, princess.”
“Would you please stop calling me that!” In frustration, she slapped a palm to her forehead. “I told Beth this would be impossible.”
“Who’s Beth?”
“My sister. I told her all about you. She said I need to be more tactful, so we can get along.”
His eyes narrowed, surprised. “You told her all about me?”
“Don’t get a big head! I had to describe the situation to her.”
“I see.” He smiled a little. “You had to call across the Atlantic to get advice about me. Never had that happen before.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. If you weren’t such a pain in the…patootie…I wouldn’t have had to waste my money on a call in the first place!”
“You mean Colin’s money.”
“I used my cell phone.”
“So you aren’t all about the free ride.”
“I’m about the book!” she said, outraged. “Why else would I torture myself, living here with you?”
“Because the perks are so good.”
“What perks?”
“Being a star’s number one love interest.” The dark eyes pinned her, so she couldn’t move.
Her cheeks flushed. “I am not. Colin and I are just friends.” She looked away. Never mind if part of her wanted it to be more.
“You think that now. But it’ll change.”
“What do you mean by that?”
It was his turn to look away. “What Colin wants, Colin gets.”
“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but Colin is not going to get me.”
“Whatever you say, princess. It’s just my job to keep you safe.”
Alexa got the feeling Jamison was keeping information from her. “What do you know about Colin that you’re not telling me?”
He shrugged. “He’s had a lot of women. Be careful.”
“Like you care,” she muttered. It was strange how his words echoed her sister’s. Both warned her about the pop star. But her sister couldn’t know how sweet he was inside. And Jamison was a man. What did he know about the finer emotions? Neanderthal that he was.
After lunch, the phone rang and Alexa snatched it up. Hopefully it wasn’t Colin, calling to cancel their appointment in half an hour.
A rush of French bombarded her ear. She heard something about a lettre. “Excusez moi?” she said. “Anglais, s’il vous plaît.”
The man spoke slower, in thickly accented English, “Madam, you have a letter. Would you like it carried to your room?”
“Oui. Merci.” Alexa hung up.
“Who was that?” Jamison asked. He sat on the back of the couch, arms crossed.
“The concierge. I’ve got a letter. They’re delivering it upstairs.”
“I’ll check it first.”
Alexa blinked. “Excuse me? Tampering with mail is a federal crime. At least it is in the United States.”
A knock came at the door. That was fast. Alexa hustled over, but Jamison was closer. He opened it and received the letter, pressing a euro into the porter’s hand.
Alexa reached his side just as the door closed. “Let me see it,” she insisted. “It’s addressed to me.”
“Are you expecting mail?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Exactly.” He flipped over the letter, showing her typed name and flat number. No return address. “I’ll open it,” he said, heading toward his room.
“I can do it. I’m not scared,” she insisted, following him. It irritated her that Jamison was in her space all the time—in her apartment, in her air, and now, reading her mail—even if it was a threatening note. She watched him pull open a dresser drawer.
“Maybe not, princess,” Jamison said, snapping on latex gloves, “but you might smudge the prints.”
He was right. Still, she didn’t have to like his authoritarianism. She crossed her arms and watched him carefully slit open the envelope with a wicked looking pocket knife. Surely he hadn’t been trained to use knives on people. The thought made her shiver.
“Scared?” he inquired.
“No. Well, maybe a little nervous.” She didn’t care to explain what she had really been thinking.
Jamison carefully withdrew a paper dotted with pasted words. Alexa circled around behind him, so she could read over his muscular shoulder.
You don’t listen well, Alexa Kaplan.
Enjoy the Paris sights
Your lust for Colin has its price.
Death.<
br />
And then a cartoon of a skull and crossbones.
“He saw us sightseeing yesterday.” A creepy feeling slid down her spine. How long had the person followed them? All day?
Jamison faced her. “Now do you think they’re serious? Do you understand why you need me?”
Alexa bit her lip. “Of course I understand why I need you. I just don’t want…” she cut her arm through the air in a short, jerky motion, “…any of this.”
Compassion gentled his gaze. His hand closed around her arm. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. No.” Alexa blinked. She was scared to death. Someone had typed her room number on that envelope. The person knew where she lived. All of a sudden, she was grateful Jamison was there, protecting her. “I’m fine. But I don’t like people trying to scare me.”
Jamison said nothing, but removed his steadying hand. She wished he hadn’t.
She said bravely, “But he hasn’t done anything yet, has he?”
“Besides stalk you?”
It didn’t sound good, put that way. “I mean, no one’s actually tried to hurt me.”
“Not yet.”
She glared. “Aren’t you comforting?”
“Realistic, Alexa. I don’t want you to write off the danger you’re in.”
She glanced at the note still in his hand. “No chance of that now, is there?”
“I need to bring this to Colin.”
She moved away. “Perfect, because I’m meeting with him in ten minutes. I’ll get my things and we can go together.”
He waited near the front door, and opened it for her as she arrived. “Never thought this day would come, princess.”
“What do you mean?” she inquired suspiciously.
“You, actually inviting me to go somewhere with you.” She saw the amusement in his gaze, and suddenly knew he was trying to distract her from the fear she felt.
Alexa said, more softly than she ordinarily might, “You’re preferable to the alternative.”
He smiled slightly, not offended, she was glad to see.
Colin, Jamison, and Mart conferenced about the threatening note while Alexa set the two scrapbooks, rough outline, her digital recorder, and her notebook on the coffee table in the penthouse. Finally Jamison left, flipping open his cell phone. Mart disappeared into an adjacent room to watch television. Thankfully, Eve was nowhere to be seen. Alexa wondered if she had mentioned their squabble on Tuesday to Colin.
Colin joined her on the sofa. He looked more serious than normal. “Sorry about that. I don’t like the thought of you being frightened by that letter.”
“I’m fine. Jamison’s going to call the police?”
“Just a precautionary measure. They need to be alerted to the situation here, and at the concerts, too.”
“Of course.”
His gaze moved to the coffee table. “It looks like we’re in for quite a work session.” He laughed, but Alexa could tell the idea of sitting still and concentrating on the project intimidated him. Hence, his past invitations to join him for a meal at the same time they worked.
“It won’t hurt,” she assured him.
He laughed sharper, sounding self-conscious. “Do I look frightened?”
“I don’t know a lot about you, Colin, but you’re a doer. You’d rather be singing or running around meeting people than sit still.”
“You’ve got my number for sure, Alexa.” The blue gaze looked surprised, but approving.
“I’ll try to make it easy on you. I’ve made a rough outline. I want to go through it with you and see if you want to add or delete anything. Then we’ll go through those two scrapbooks and see if they jog any memories. I can add those to the outline as well.”
He leaned forward and picked up the three page outline with his long fingers. He had piano fingers, much like her mother had always called hers. Of course, Colin actually could play the piano, whereas she could not. He also played the guitar. If only she could be so musically coordinated.
“After we’ve finished, will the outline be complete?” he wanted to know.
“Yes, for the most part. If you have time, I’d like you to look through the other scrapbooks later, to make sure we’re not leaving out anything important. Also, I’d like to interview your band and your employees, too. I’d like to get their take on you and the music group.”
“I like it.” Colin relaxed against the couch and read the outline. A faint frown knit his brows.
The hour passed quickly. Colin asked sharp, concise questions, and helped cut the outline by half. “I’d like more stories,” he said. “Less statistics.”
Finally, the time drew to a close and Alexa was pleased by their efforts. “I’ll expect more of those stories on Sunday,” she said. “To give you fair warning, I’m bringing my recorder.”
Colin laughed. “I’d expect nothing less.”
“And I’ll send you a new outline either tomorrow or Saturday.”
“No hurry.” Colin glanced at his watch. “The time flew.” He sounded rueful. “I was hoping to learn more about you.”
“Sunday,” she promised with a grin, gathering her things together.
“Is everything else all right?” Colin sounded genuinely concerned, and Alexa’s heart turned over. “I mean besides the note, which again I’m sorry about.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“You wouldn’t have received it if it wasn’t for me.”
This was true, but Alexa dismissed it with a shrug.
“Are you and Eve getting along?” he asked unexpectedly.
Alexa’s mouth opened, and then closed. Had that woman already begun to poison Colin’s mind against her? “Actually, no,” she said. “Did Eve mention what happened on Tuesday?”
“A little. I’d like your take on it.”
Alexa heaved a breath. Good heavens, Eve had started to spew slander. Her temper bubbled. Even though sometimes her mouth got her into trouble, this time she had been nothing but nice to the other woman. Even her sister would be proud of her. It was frustrating, to say the least. Whatever the case, now it was time for Alexa to get her swing into the game.
“Eve doesn’t like me very much,” she said evenly. “She thinks I plan to cut out your heart and eat it with a spoon.”
Colin chuckled, and his shoulders relaxed. “Eve can be over-protective at times. Don’t worry about her. She’s harmless.”
“Okay.” Alexa wasn’t so certain.
“Let me tell you something about Eve. She’s never had any family—she grew up in the foster system in the United States. She’s been with me so long that I think she views me as family. It’s only natural, I think.”
Or freakily possessive. But Alexa did not say this. After all, maybe Colin was right. He knew Eve better than she did. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Thank you. And I’ll talk to my band.” Colin opened the door for her. “Next week, I’ll set up a meeting so you can chat with them. Interview Eve, too. She can give you a great deal of insight into my crazy life.”
“I will,” Alexa said.
In fact, maybe the sooner, the better. A bizarre thought crossed her mind as she moved into the empty hall. What if Eve had sent the threatening notes? She certainly disliked Alexa enough, and knew where she lived, too. And she could have easily discovered that Alexa had gone sightseeing yesterday. Of course, Colin’s life had been threatened, too. And she couldn’t imagine Eve hurting Colin.
But what if the threats against Colin were only a ruse to throw the authorities off the true trail?
The idea of Eve being behind the threats made an odd sort of sense. Could it be true?
If so, Alexa didn’t like the idea of being threatened, frightened, and her life constricted just because of a churlish, possessive secretary. Alexa wouldn’t say anything yet, but if she found proof to bolster her theory, Eve’s house of cards would come crashing down.
She would make an appointment to talk to
Eve as soon as possible.
Like a shadow, Jamison joined her in the hall. A fanciful thought flitted through her brain. Like a stalking shadow. Silent and black.
How would it feel to walk alone again, with no fear? It was becoming hard to imagine. She would find out soon if Eve was the stalker. Then she could get rid of her shadow.
Eve agreed to meet with Alexa on Saturday morning. The phone conversation had been abrupt, and Alexa didn’t look forward to the meeting.
Alexa spent the remainder of Thursday struggling to work on the book, but the words flowed like molasses…slow, slow, slow, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe thinking about the stalker had upset her subconscious. She felt like a prisoner in the apartment.
Alexa microwaved a meal for dinner and ate it in her room. She felt grouchy. When she skulked out to deposit the container in the trash, Jamison said from the couch, “Avoiding me?”
“I’m working,” she snapped.
He actually turned around. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She scrubbed her dirty fork. To her dismay, he joined her in the kitchen and leaned his hip against the counter.
“Talk to me.”
“I can’t talk to you, or I’ll scream,” she informed him.
“Writing going rough?”
She turned on him, hands on her hips. “What do you care?”
“That note’s got you upset.”
“You have all the answers, don’t you?” she accused rudely. “Maybe it’s time for you to remember the rule. You leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone!”
Hurt, swiftly replaced by anger, darkened his gaze to black. “Fine,” he said, and returned to the couch.
Alexa watched him, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. She bit her lip and hurried to her room, slamming the door behind her.
Now she felt even worse. Why did he have to go and be nice to her? Why did she have to snarl at him?
After a moment, she opened the door again. Jamison glanced at her, and then returned his attention to the television. He didn’t look angry, but then again, Alexa suspected he buried his emotions deep, behind that carefully controlled bodyguard wall.
Her Reluctant Bodyguard Page 11