She gave the photographer what he wanted, wondering why anyone cared what she was doing and who she was doing it with. She knew it was good that they did, that it helped her make a living doing the work she loved, but today she just wanted to be alone with Noah.
However, it took them another five minutes to get through the gates. Reaching the house not long afterward, the two of them got out in silence. Kit glanced reflexively into the backseat of the convertible. “Noah, did you leave that gift in there?”
“No.” Frowning, he went to pick up the card stuck to the package, which was wrapped in gold paper.
“Wait.” She took off the thin, colorful silk scarf she was wearing and passed it to him. “In case there are fingerprints.” She was probably being paranoid, the gift something a fan had managed to drop in during the media fracas outside, but she had to be sure.
Using the scarf to pick up the card, Noah opened it with care. The dangerous ice in his expression answered her silent question. When she went around to his side, he wrapped his arm around her while holding the card out of reach. “You don’t need to see this. It’s the same ugly bullshit.”
“I have to see it. I have to know what’s in his sick head so I can protect myself.”
A muscle jumped in Noah’s jaw, but he brought the card close enough that she could read it. As usual, the message wasn’t handwritten but made up of words and letters cut out of magazines and newspapers.
You slut. I bought these chocolates for you, but now I hope you choke on them. How dare you cheat on me with that asshole rocker? Wait until I get my hands on you.
A shudder going through her, she closed her eyes. But only for a second. “Come on. Fox made me invest in full security coverage at the gate after that pap tried to get him arrested.” At the time, she’d whimpered at the further cost, but now it might give them their first glimpse of her stalker. “Butch is an expert at the system.”
Noah made the call to the bodyguard, who’d remained by the gate.
After updating Butch once he arrived, Kit led both men to the security room inside the house. First, however, she ducked into the kitchen and found a paper bag into which Noah could drop the card and gift-wrapped package.
“I’ll pass that on to the cops,” Butch said.
Placing the bag beside him in front of the security screens, he quickly brought up the relevant footage. But no matter how carefully they examined it, no one appeared to drop anything into the backseat.
“It could’ve been done as you slowed down to turn into the gate, where the cameras don’t reach, or anywhere else you stopped—even at the traffic lights,” Butch said. “Remember that group of fans that congregated against the car to take photos? Plus you picked up coffee from a drive-through.” Butch’s expression was dark. “I clearly wasn’t watching closely enough.”
“It’s not your fault.” Kit touched his arm. “You were watching for physical threats, not this kind of cowardice.”
Noah looked at the video again, eyes narrowed. “I am never again driving the Mustang with the top down when I have you in the passenger seat.”
“Yes, you are.” Kit scowled at him. “Don’t let the creep get to you—that’s what he does.” Already he’d forced Kit into crushing debt. That, she hadn’t been able to avoid, but she wasn’t about to allow him to steal such small pleasures from her or Noah’s life.
“I’ll go help Casey with the sweep, make sure the bastard didn’t get in.” Butch picked up the paper bag. “And I’ll get this to the cops ASAP.”
Tugging her close after the bodyguard left, Noah held her with one arm, burying the fingers of his other hand in her hair. “That’s it. I’m never moving out.”
Kit smiled despite the circumstances. “Wait until I want you to watch Dancing with the Stars with me.”
“Oh Jesus, Dancing with the Stars? Really? I thought you were a football kind of woman.”
“I can like both.” Laughing at his expression, she said, “You hungry?”
“No, you?”