Chapter One
Chloe strummed the guitar in her hands, her eyes closed, her entire being focused on the notes that filled the space around her. In the cozy music room inside her ridiculously large house—more of a mansion, really—she could hear the song she was creating before her fingers ran across the strings of her favorite guitar. It was that magical moment when she could feel the song as she created it, knew it would be a hit. The melody surrounded her, filled her up. She was one with it, each individual note claiming a place in her soul. The lyrics she had already written fell into their perfect place as she felt herself soaring above it all.
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang, followed by a resounding knock. Her eyes snapped open. She was yanked out of the flow.
Supremely annoyed, she frowned deeply. Getting into the flow was always a challenge, especially when she was composing original music. Interruptions were her worst enemy. She hit the pause button on the recording app on her phone. She always recorded her work when she was composing. That way, when she was working in the studio with her creative team, she would be able to remember exactly how she wanted a particular song to sound. And it was critical to get it right. Expectations for her next album were high. Not only what she expected from herself, but her fans and her record label were expecting great things as well. It had been nearly a year since she’d released her second album. That one had rocketed up the charts, propelling her to pop star status. Only trouble was, now she felt the pressure to exceed its success.
The doorbell rang again, followed by another strong knock.
Normally Beth, her assistant and best friend, would answer the door, but she was at a doctors appointment that morning. No one else was in the house, which was just how Chloe preferred it. The rest of her team—business manager, public relations person, creative team, and glam squad—stayed away unless absolutely necessary. Especially when she was working. Which had now abruptly come to an end, thanks to whomever was at her door.
Sighing audibly, Chloe set her guitar aside and marched to the front door. The thick, dark wood that separated her from the world was beautiful and imposing, but as she reached for the knob, she hesitated. What if it was a fan who had scaled her security gate? That hadn’t happened since moving to this mansion in the hills above Los Angeles, but it was a possibility. Then again, if it wasn’t for the fans, she wouldn’t be able to make a living—an extremely lucrative living—doing what she loved. Still, that didn’t mean she had to let them approach her at her home, her sanctuary. Then she thought about her manager, Scotty, who had been trying to convince her to beef up security Though she understood his concerns, she desperately wanted to keep her life as normal as possible. Being suddenly thrust into the spotlight had been a challenge, but she still clung to as much of her previous life as she could. Like being able to answer her front door without fear.
With a soft sigh, she tugged the door open.
A man who looked like he was in his late twenties stood on her porch. Over six feet tall, he wore dark gray slacks and a form-fitting, light blue dress shirt that did nothing to hide his muscular biceps and trim body. His black hair was short, as was his beard. His eyes—a startling blue with a hint of pale green—seemed to pierce her as they zoomed in on her face. And he was scowling. One of his eyebrows arched “You shouldn’t be answering your door.”
She recoiled at his audacity, her mouth falling open as she made a scoffing sound. What the heck? He’d interrupted her, and now he was telling her that she shouldn’t be answering her own door? Who did he think he was? And how did he get through the gate?
Beyond irritated, Chloe glared at him. She would show him what she thought of him and his idiotic remark. She shoved the door to close it, but it stopped a good six inches from the door frame. She pushed harder, but it didn’t budge. That’s when she noticed that his foot was wedged in the doorway. “What do you think you’re doing?” Her voice dripped with contempt.
He glanced down at his foot with a frown before meeting her gaze. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t be answering your door.”
Fury building, Chloe struggled to contain her rapidly rising temper. With gritted teeth, she said, “Move.” When he didn’t, she opened the door wider, then shoved him in the chest with all of her might, but it was like shoving a brick wall—hard and immovable. Kind of stunned—and becoming alarmed—she took a step back. What was she supposed to do now?
Maybe she could reason with him. “What do you want?”
“You’re Chloe Ross.” He said it matter-of-factly, like he recognized her but wasn’t the least bit impressed.
Was he a crazed fan? Was he going to do her harm? Her alarm began to morph into panic. Should she scream for help? But who would come? She was home all alone and her neighbors’ houses weren’t that close—if they were even around. Knowing how vulnerable she was didn’t frighten her. Instead, it made her livid. “Get off of my property before I call the police.”
At her words, a broad smile curved his lips. That smile completely transformed his face.
Taken aback not only by his lack of concern over her threat, but also by how incredibly good-looking he was, Chloe found herself speechless. Not something that happened often.
“Let’s start over,” the man said as he stuck out his hand. “I’m Jake Mitchell, your bodyguard.”
Bodyguard? What bodyguard? Chloe knew nothing about a bodyguard. Then she noticed that he’d taken his foot out of the door. Not wasting a moment, she slammed the door in his face and turned the deadbolt.
Jake stood on the porch staring at the huge wooden door, his hand still outstretched. Then he laughed. He couldn’t help himself. This hadn’t gone anything like he’d pictured. Of course, he was totally new at this bodyguard thing so he had no basis for comparison. Still, he hadn’t expected to be greeted by such a petite spitfire.
He dropped his arm to his side as his laughter died down. He pictured the range of emotions that had skidded across Chloe’s face—annoyance, disbelief, and then fear. That last one hit him hardest. What if he’d been some psycho-stalker come to harm her? She would have been easy prey.
That’s why you’re here, he reminded himself. To protect her. To keep her safe.
Only one problem—she obviously had no idea that a bodyguard would be coming. Who had hired his employer, Titan Security? Her manager? Her record label? Why hadn’t they clued her in?
Then it hit him. Whoever it was had wanted to spring it on her because she’d been resistant. So typical of a pop star who thought the world revolved around her but had zero clue to the actual dangers that surrounded her.
Shaking his head as he sighed, Jake stepped off of the porch and strode to his Jeep, climbing behind the wheel and making himself comfortable. He was at the job he’d been assigned to and he wasn’t about to leave. Now it was up to her people to get her on board.
Chapter Two
Chloe was having trouble concentrating. After she’d slammed the door in the face of the creep who’d knocked on her front door, she’d gone straight to her music room with every intention of picking up where she’d left off. But it was not to be. Try as she might, the notes refused to come.