She’d been so careful! Her mind raced. How had she given herself away? What rookie mistake had she made that had sunk her? All her hard work was for nothing—sleeping in her car, living on junk food, peeing into the Tinkle Belle, and—worst of all—spending her life savings buying Dove Investigations from her cheating, detestable stepmother. Dove Investigations—the detective agency her grandfather had founded, her father had built, and the one that would have been hers from birth if her father hadn’t been so bullheaded. Every sacrifice she’d made would be useless. She’d be forced back to life in a cubicle, right along with having to live with the knowledge that a pampered jock like Cooper Graham had gotten the best of her.

Acid churned in the pit of her stomach. She arranged her forehead in a confused frown. “Following you?”

He stood silhouetted against the framed Chicago Stars jersey displayed on the wall behind him. His blue, button-down shirt made his already formidable shoulders look even wider, and the rolled-up sleeves showcased the lean muscles of his lower arms. The expert fit of his dark jeans—neither too tight nor too loose—exhibited the long, powerful legs that had been designed by God to be steady, strong, and quick—much to the disadvantage of her Chicago Bears.

His gaze was as grim as an Illinois winter. “I’ve seen you parked outside my condo, following me to my gym, to here. And I want to know why.”

She’d thought she was being so inventive with all her disguises. How had he managed to see through them? Denial would be futile. She sank onto the couch and tried to think.

He waited. Arms folded. Standing on the sidelines watching the enemy’s offense fall apart.

“Well...” She swallowed. Looked up at him. “The fact is...” She released her breath in a whoosh. “I’m your stalker.”

“Stalker?”

A rush of adrenaline spread through her. She wouldn’t go down without a fight, and she shot up from the couch. “Not a dangerous one. Lord, no. Merely obsessed.”

“With me.” A statement, not a question. He’d been here before.

“I don’t make a habit of stalking people. This... quite got away from me, you see.” She didn’t know exactly how this tactic could save her, but she plunged on. “I’m not full-out barmy, you understand. Just... mildly unhinged.”

He cocked his head, but at least he was listening. And why not? Lunatics were always fascinating.

“I assure you, I’m only a bit of a nutter,” she said breathlessly. “Absolutely harmless. You don’t have to worry about violence.”

“Only that I have a stalker.”

“Not the first one, I daresay. A man like you...” She paused and tried not to choke. “A god.”