Elle has exactly three rules for surviving her world tour: no carbs before corsets, no crying in public, and absolutely no Reed Ashford. So when her ex-best-friend's stupidly gorgeous older brother shows up backstage in Tokyo claiming he's her new "security consultant," she does what any reasonable woman would do—she locks him in a supply closet. He picks the lock in forty seconds. Billionaires, apparently, have hobbies.
Now he's everywhere. In her greenroom. On her private jet. Watching her with those dark eyes that make her forget she's supposed to hate him for eight years of silence. Reed's new favorite word is "no"—no solo walks, no unknown visitors, no pretending she doesn't still shiver when he crowds her against walls to check for threats. The death threats are terrifying. The way her body remembers his hands? Worse. Elle's about to discover that the only thing more dangerous than a stalker is a man who's done pretending he doesn't want to devour her whole.