Page 5 of Hunted Hearts (Black Heart Security #6)

J uliette tried to focus on the applause of the audience still ringing in her ears when she settled in the back seat of the black SUV with her violin case tucked snugly against her side.

She wasn’t riding a post-performance high the way she normally would be, but her heart was still beating hard.

Maybe because nothing felt right—and it was all because of Theo.

The man hadn’t spoken a single word to her since she stepped onto that studio stage. But he seemed to be all around her, blocking her path, radioing ahead for transport and barking orders at whoever was on the other end of the line.

Maybe because she heard him utter the words “full lockdown” and “clear the perimeter” like they were in a war zone instead of going to the hotel.

Then there was her team, obeying every order in silence, which made her feel like the outsider of the group, questioning if this was really necessary.

When they arrived at the hotel, Theo had the entire floor cleared. Guests were evicted from the rooms they were staying in, leaving only her and her team on the floor.

As he led her to her room, she noted just how big he was, tall with shoulders like a bodybuilder and one giant hand hovering near his side. She didn’t watch much TV, but she’d seen enough cop shows to know they stashed their weapons in the waist of their jeans.

She didn’t bother trying to keep up with his long legs and continued at her usual pace, her violin case in hand.

He issued an irritated huff after seeing her fall back for the third time. He stopped and waited for her to catch up.

She threw him a sideways look. “What is this? The presidential detail?”

“I’ve guarded a president in my career. This is nothing like that.”

She blinked, both at his gruff tone and what he’d said. Guarding presidents? This man really was the real deal.

They reached the hotel room door and he opened it for her.

She stepped inside and looked around. The place resembled a war room rather than a cozy suite to rest for the night. Her team was already assembled, taking up the sofas and chairs in the sitting area.

As Juliette entered, Henri pushed lightly to his feet to greet her. Rachel, Chris and Harper were all watching her.

Juliette tugged off the lightweight jacket she’d slung on over her street clothes and tossed it on a chair. “I thought we were done panicking. What is all this?”

Theo closed the door and bolted it—twice. When he faced her, she saw that she had little control over what went down from here on. He was in charge, and he wasn’t even giving room for no to be an answer.

“We need to talk about threats.” His gruff tone grated against her senses like gravel on pavement.

She sent Rachel an imploring look. Her publicist offered a sympathetic smile and scooted over on the sofa, patting the cushion for her to sit.

With a resigned sigh—but not too resigned—Juliette settled on the sofa and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for Theo to get on with the show.

He didn’t sit. He stood on the edge of the group, legs braced wide like fallen tree trunks and his arms folded over his expansive chest.

A ripple ran through Rachel, and Juliette shot her a questioning look. Then her gaze snagged on Theo’s bulging biceps and any words she was about to say died on her lips.

He swept his gaze over the group. “I want to know any concerns you’ve ever had regarding Juliette’s security or your own. Even if you thought it was something small.”

A silent ripple ran through everyone. Then Rachel cleared her throat.

“London,” she said.

Juliette barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “I told you; somebody left the door open. Nothing more than a mistake. You know London is full of old buildings. Sometimes doors don’t latch.”

Theo’s eyes bored into her. “Was anything moved in your room? Missing from your things? Left behind? Did you find any notes—or scorpions?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Theo’s gaze was unreadable, but her team, her people , were bobbing their heads as if they agreed with his concerns.

She snapped at the tight constriction in her chest. “You’re acting like I’m hiding something.”

Rachel rested a hand on her arm. “We’re not. We’re just trying to keep you safe.”

She tightened her lips. It was nothing. Wasn’t it?

Their disbelief got her brain ticking. Had something else happened that night?

Her brows drew together.

Theo spotted her expression before she could wipe it off her face. “Juliette.” Her name came out as a warning.

She scraped her fingers through her hair. “There was something strange.”

Theo’s stare locked on her with an intensity that crawled through her like she touched a live wire. “Tell me.”

God, that voice, so low and rough. It raised a shiver in her. It made her palms hot.

“It was my supplements.”

Everyone stared at her.

She darted her tongue over her dry lips. “I felt awful that night. Sluggish and dazed. I wondered if I was coming down with something, or maybe jetlagged. I was so tired that I cancelled my performance that first night.”

“What supplements?” Theo’s eyes sharpened.

“Supplements to keep me at my peak performance level. I need my brain to be honed and quick. I can’t afford to miss shows. I took my supplements, then felt the opposite of energetic. I wondered if I took my evening meds accidentally…but now I’m not so sure.”

“You have a doctor managing your care?”

“I have regular labs to see where I’m lacking, and a doctor prescribes the supplements.”

“What are you on? Anxiety medication? Sleeping pills?”

Her head snapped up. “No! Ashwagandha. NAC. Adaptogens. Natural stuff.”

His intense gaze grew more intense. “Think, Juliette. Tell me every single thing you did that day.”

She pulled in a breath and released it in a slow trickle. “I met an old friend in the hotel lobby for breakfast. Coffee and croissants.”

Across from her, Harper nodded, confirming that was true.

“When I came back, I noticed the dressing room door was cracked. I didn’t think much of it since old buildings are fussy, and nothing seemed out of place, so I went about my routine. I always take my supplements after I eat.”

“Where were the pills? Did you have to take them out of a bottle or case?”

“No. I lay them out when I brush my teeth so I don’t forget to take them. The morning ones are light pink. They’re for focus and energy. The evening ones are dark pink.”

“Juliette.” He pierced her in his gaze. “This is really important. I need you to try to remember if you laid out the wrong pills.”

“I’ve never done it before or since.” She spread her hands as if she could recapture the memory. “I was in a hurry—I had a thousand things to do before my sound check—so I just took them. But after I got sleepy, I started to question if I took the wrong ones.”

Theo’s face changed. Not a lot, but enough for her to notice. His angular jaw clenched so hard that a bulge appeared in the crease.

And his eyes darkened in a way that made her stomach twist.

Watching his calm shatter was like seeing steel flex under extreme weight.

“You took the wrong pills.”

“I just said that.”

Without warning, he crossed the room in swift strides. He yanked her suitcase off the floor and spun to slam it on a small table. The abrupt explosion had her leaping to her feet and rushing to his side.

“What are you doing?” Her voice wobbled.

He ripped open her suitcase and began tearing through her things. He tossed clothing in all directions and tore into her toiletry bag, dumping the contents. Her travel-sized shampoo bottle hit the floor and rolled away, along with several tampons, leaving her cheeks burning.

He snatched up another bag, perfectly packed thanks to her assistant, and flipped open the small catch holding it shut. “Hand me a tissue.” His voice was dead calm, but its undercurrent sizzled with a threat only he seemed to see.

She didn’t move to follow his command, so he turned his head and pierced her in his gray gaze. His eyes had darker gray starbursts in each center, spiking around his pupils.

“Please, Juliette.”

The “please” set her in motion. She hurried to the bathroom and pulled three tissues out of the holder. When she returned, he had her supplements dumped out in the bottom of her suitcase.

Without glancing at her, he took a tissue from her and used it to pluck the case of pills from the pile like it was evidence in a crime scene.

“Are these the supplements?”

“Yes! I could have just handed them to you.” Her favorite silk robe was on the floor, and bottles of skin serum rested under the table.

Having someone bust into her life and scatter it everywhere felt like a terrible violation.

“People don’t treat me this way!”

He didn’t respond in any way to her outburst, just grabbed a small black backpack she could only guess held his gear. In seconds, he had small plastic bags in hand and carried them back to her suitcase.

She gulped against the fear bubbling in her throat and watched in silence as he picked up every container of pills with a tissue and placed them each in individual baggies.

“I need those,” she protested. “I have a performance in two days!”

He grunted as he sealed them up. “I’ll get you something better.”

When he turned, fixing his attention on her violin case, panic rattled up her spine.

Her heart skipped. “No!”

He didn’t stop.

She bolted, throwing herself between him and the precious instrument, her hand protectively settled on top of it. Tilting her head, she glared at him. “No.”

“I just need to look at it.”

“I’m drawing a line.” She tipped her jaw up a notch. This man didn’t know how far she would go to keep him from putting a single callused finger on her instrument, but she was willing to show him.

His eyes blazed down at her. “I see no line.”

“It’s there—trust me.”

He held her stare, his own flickering with heat and challenge…and maybe admiration?

“Would you mind holding it up so I can examine it or do I need to show you my clearances first?”

He had clearances? Of course he did. The man protected presidents.