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long-fingered hand through his hair. Dark brown and slightly wavy, it was cut much shorter than she remembered. Instead of waving back from his forehead, it lay close to his skull, betraying none of its tendency to curl. He fixed her with his dark, intense gaze, and she had a vivid flashback of him, buried deep inside her, eyes simmering with lust as he commanded her in his dark, smoky voice to look at him while she came.
    To her absolute mortification, a tiny, strangled moan lodged somewhere in the back of her throat. She tried to cover it up with a coughing fit, but judging by her sister’s smirk, she had fooled no one.
    A flash of heat appeared—just for a millisecond—in his sable eyes. But it was enough to spark an encouraging flutter between her thighs.
    But it was gone almost as it appeared, and he was once again one hundred percent business.
    “Can you think of anyone who might be upset with you, out to get you in some way?” He pulled out a little notepad and silver plate ballpoint pen.
    “Not off the top of my head. I’ve received some strange things from fans—letters, e-mails, gifts. Marriage proposals, less honorable requests, but nothing like this. And until the picture and the e-mail, everything was always forwarded through Max’s office or from Tyler.”
    “Max and Tyler?”
    “Max is my producer, and Tyler is my PR manager.”
    “So they would have access to your personal information.”
    “It couldn’t possibly be either of them. First of all, I’m pretty sure Max is gay.”
    Gabe quirked a thick dark eyebrow. “Pretty sure?”
    “He lives in Noe Valley, spitting distance from the Castro. He’s forty, never been married, and he’s the only reason my on-screen wardrobe is even moderately hip. And Tyler—”
    “Tyler gets more ass than a toilet seat,” Natalie snapped. “I can’t imagine the man risking his precious equipment in a copier machine, since it might leave him incapable of satisfying the female population of San Francisco.”
    Gabe made another note, quirking his full, firm mouth in that adorable half smile of his. Reggie barely suppressed an adolescent sigh. “I’ll want to talk to them, anyway. Maybe they can point to someone. Whoever is contacting you, he or she has access to your personal information.”
    “What about Craig?” Natalie asked. “He still hasn’t forgiven you for stealing his show.” Natalie made little air quotes around the stealing part.
    Gabe looked at Reggie expectantly. “Craig?”
    “My ex.”
    “You stole his show?”
    “It’s stupid, really. I was helping him with a cooking demo, and I guess I sort of took over.”
    “Reggie can talk a lot while she’s doing something else,” Natalie interjected.
    Gabe smiled as though at a joke only he knew. Her cheeks burned as she wondered which of the many things she’d said during sex he might be remembering.
    “I didn’t know, but Craig had invited Max to the demo. Max has developed other shows for the Cuisine Network, and Craig was hoping to work with him. I did my usual thing, kept up the chatter and asked Craig questions so he could show off. After the demo, Max called me and we came up with the idea for Simply Delicious .”
    “So it’s possible he wants to get revenge, shake you up a little.”
    Reggie shook her head. “We broke up over a year ago. Why would he wait until now?”
    “Because you’re a much bigger star now,” Natalie said, scowling, “at least in your little Cuisine Network world. And you have a new show. He has to be pissed about that.”
    “But he didn’t know about that until last night. Besides, Craig is too egotistical to stay anonymous.”
    Gabe asked for Craig’s last name and said he would check him but conceded, “With all the Internet search tools available, it’s ridiculously easy for someone to procure private information. Is your real name the same as your professional name?”
    Reggie nodded.
    “That makes it much easier for people to look you