“I refuse to believe I’m a hothead,” she said. “Now you, on the other hand, have a certain reputation.”

He nodded. “I’ve earned it, so believe it, chere. Tell me the rest.”

“Then don’ be interruptin’ me,” she said.

Bijou had the feeling the only way to save herself from her reaction to his Cajun charm was to run for her life. She must have unconsciously started to pull away from him because his fingers tightened like a shackle around her wrist, holding her still.

“Then don’ be distractin’ me,” he admonished.

It was impossible not to laugh. “I can see why Saria says you always get your way. You’re very persistent and charming at the same time.”

“Thank you.”

She shook her head. “That was not a compliment.”

He tapped the letters.

Bijou sighed. “It was the progression more than anythin’ else that scared me. I was in LA when I found the first one. Then when I moved to be closer to the university I was attendin’, I found the same thing in my underwear drawer.”

Remy sat up straighter. “He was in your house? In your bedroom?”

She nodded. It was rather humiliating to have to admit any of it. “On my underwear. The eye was drawn on a pair of lacy boy shorts with spray paint.” She felt the color creeping up her neck. There was no way to stop it.

“And you didn’t go to the police?”

His voice had gone very soft. She went still, the hair on the back of her neck raising in response to his tone. Her body recognized danger.

“The point is,” she said hastily, “in the beginning, whoever was stalkin’ me just left his silly eye in spray paint and that was the end of it. About a year ago he started addin’ messages about me sinnin’ and how I was goin’ to pay for it.”

When he started to say something she held up her hand. “This is difficult for me, Remy, so let me just get on with it. He started breakin’ into Bodrie’s properties and then those last three letters were sent by the same man, I’m certain of it. They aren’t very nice. This has been goin’ on for years with no sight of him, just that stupid eye starin’ at me. But those letters . . .” She trailed off, glancing at his set jaw.

She was trembling and knew he could feel it because his hand was wrapped around her wrist. There was nowhere to hide. “Hopefully when you read them, you’ll understand. They’re fairly graphic, and he’s definitely been watchin’ me. Everywhere I go, even in my own home. He has to be gettin’ in the house and finding a way to watch me.”