Safe by His Side. Linda Conrad

needs anything.”

      “You think the stalker might’ve left another one of those messages for her?” The thought made Blythe’s skin crawl. “It wouldn’t be possible unless he got into the house again somehow.”

      Ethan’s jaw clenched. “No, that’s not what I think.” The intensity of his stare made her feel itchy and vulnerable. But her job wasn’t the only one on the line here, so she straightened her spine and lifted her chin as she got ready to let him have it.

      Before she could open her mouth, he seemed to settle for a shrug. “Why don’t you go on in and check Ashley’s computer? See for yourself.”

      Everything inside Ashley’s room seemed perfectly sound. The girl was in her bathroom, brushing her teeth and getting ready for the day. The note still blinking on the computer screen had come from her mother, reminding Ash of the day’s shooting schedule, what she should wear to the studio and that she should pay attention and do whatever the new bodyguard told her to do.

      Blythe gritted her teeth. The irritation she automatically felt because of Melissa stepping onto her turf must be set aside. Blythe knew this note was nothing more than a last desperate grasp for the parental control that Melissa realized was slipping through her fingers for good.

      Blythe was still plenty annoyed over Ethan’s earlier smug arrogance, and also that sensual glint in his eyes when he looked her way. But she didn’t want any of that to cost her the job she loved.

      Vowing to stop letting him get to her, Blythe helped Ash get ready. At the last moment she found the day’s script pages stuffed under Ash’s bed, put them in her briefcase and then managed to grab them both a glass of OJ on the way out. Despite Blythe’s annoyance and her growing foul mood, she let Ethan usher them through the front door when the studio limo arrived to take them to the back lot.

      This was going to be one hell of a long day.

      As the limo pulled away from the Davis mansion’s cul-de-sac and headed toward Sunset Boulevard, a man huddled behind the wheel of his five-year-old Ford down the block and watched. Hidden beneath thick bougainvillea and oleander in the driveway of a neighbor who was out of town, the man took no notice of the morning’s sapphire-blue sky or the sweet, romantic scent of orange blossoms perfuming the Southern California air.

      He’d seen enough to give him several new directions to follow. He had slowly worked at setting this plan in motion over the last month or so, and every detail needed to be perfect for him to get what he wanted.

      Last night’s “stalker” note and the commotion that had followed had actually seemed to be accomplishing just what he’d hoped. Then a few hours ago he had been disappointed when the police left after only a cursory search. That kind of reaction wasn’t nearly good enough. They’d given up too soon. He would need to ramp up the tension.

      But his plans were taking shape. The goal was in sight.