She’d have something to say about that the second she saw him. But that moment came almost immediately-he had been watching her back. Literally. He was standing, dark and predatory, in the wings just off stage. He’d been watching for her to come off…out of a direct line of sight to center stage. So he hadn’t watched her dance. And he most certainly hadn’t experienced watching her dance with the rest of a big, male audience.

Nothing had changed.

“I’ll escort you to your dressing room,” he said, his jaw as stiff as his shoulders. “Rose.”

She didn’t even respond as she slipped her robe on over her nearly naked body, then sailed past him toward the stairs. She didn’t need his help, she didn’t need his approval.

Yes, she needed him. But she’d learn to do without him, just like she’d done without him all those long, lonely teenage years when she’d pined for the man.

Of course, never having had him might have aided her then. Now that she had?

Izzie feared she was never going to get over Nick.

“Ahem.” As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry stepped out of the greenroom.

“Everything okay?” Nick asked, instantly on alert.

“It’s fine,” the older man said, but he didn’t sound convinced. In fact, his voice was weak, his face a little pale.

Izzie reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Harry, what’s wrong? Is Leah all right?”

He covered her hand with his. “Yes. Jackie called earlier. Leah’s fine.” He glanced over his shoulder into the quiet greenroom. He stepped out of the room and eased the door closed. “But I need to talk to both of you. Will you come with me, please?”

Hearing his urgency and seeing his very obvious concern, Izzie immediately went on alert. Something else had happened…maybe someone else was hurt.

“What is it?” Nick asked in a low voice, obviously realizing the same thing.

The man just shook his head, leading them back up the stairs to his small office which was on the other side of the lobby. They took a private, back hallway-a good thing since Izzie still wore just her long, silky robe. Whatever was bothering Harry, it had to be serious because he hadn’t even offered to wait while she put some clothes on.

Harry’s office was unpretentious and simple. Comfortable. Much like the self-deprecating man who occupied it.

But Harry Black did not look at all comfortable right now. As he gestured them toward the two armchairs across from his desk, his hand shook.

Izzie almost held her breath, watching him sit down behind the desk. Before he said a word, he dropped his head forward and put it in hands. “I can’t even look at you when I say this.”

Izzie had no idea what the man could be talking about, but beside her, Nick sucked in a sharp breath. “You…”

Their employer immediately looked up, shaking his head. “No. Not me.” Moisture appearing in his eyes, he continued. “It was Delilah.”

Izzie suddenly got it. Delilah had been the one after her. She’d poisoned the chocolates-and perhaps the roses.

Nick muttered a foul word, but Harry didn’t leap to the defense of his wife. She deserved their scorn. No, she hadn’t succeeded in hurting Izzie, her target, but she had certainly made Leah miserable.

“Tell us,” Nick said, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

His eyes were narrowed, his expression forbidding. Izzie recognized that tension in his rock-hard body. It was a good thing Delilah Black was not here for a personal confession. A very good thing. Because if Izzie didn’t rip her apart, Nick just might have.

“I thought she wanted to retire,” Harry said. He had a dazed expression, the same one many men wore when trying to understand their wives. Izzie had certainly seen it on her father’s face. “She seemed happy helping me with management.”

“How long ago did she stop?” Izzie asked, feeling a sharp sense of pity for the man. She sensed Harry needed to build up to telling them the worst of it.

“A few years ago when she turned forty. Right after we got married.” Opening his desk drawer, Harry reached in and grabbed a silver flask and a shot glass. He poured himself a drink, raising a brow toward Nick and Izzie to see if they wanted one.

Neither took him up on it. Izzie because she was already feeling queasy at the story Harry was telling them. Nick…well, probably because he was already on a low simmer in the chair next to her. Throwing alcohol on a slow burn could make it erupt.

“And what, she thought if she could get rid of your headliner, you’d suddenly put her back on stage? That makes no sense,” Nick said, disgust dripping from his words.

“Not to you. Not to me,” Harry said with a sigh. “But to her.” Growing slightly pink in the cheeks, he added, “I, uh, think there might have been a little more to it, though. I guess I talk a lot about you Rose…Izzie,” he clarified, calling her by her real name for the first time since he’d hired her. “And I think Dee got a bit jealous, thinking my interest was something other than professional.” Almost blushing to the roots of his balding head now, he quickly added, “That wasn’t at all true. I’m as proud of you as if you were my own daughter…but Dee didn’t get that.”

The man had never even looked at her the wrong way. Izzie didn’t doubt he was being truthful.

“Was she responsible for the roses?”

Harry nodded, taking another deep sip of his drink. “She put some kind of bug powder on them. And before you ask, yes, she did the chair too. I got her to admit to both of those things, as well as putting some kind of syrup-Ipecac-in the chocolates.”

This time Izzie was the one to call the other woman a bitch under her breath. She simply couldn’t help it. Again, Harry didn’t make any effort to defend his wife.

“Why’d she come clean?” Izzie asked.

“I suspected as soon as I saw the box of candy. Dee loves that kind. And she came home with some of that syrup a couple of days ago, saying she wanted it on hand in case one of her nieces or nephews came over and swallowed something poisonous.”

Nick shifted a little, his arms still cross, his body still rigid. “So you confronted her?”

Harry nodded. “And she confessed. When she saw how sick Leah was, she felt awful.”

“Wonder if she’d have felt that way if it had been Izzie lying on the floor,” Nick snapped.

He sounded very protective. Which made Izzie feel all warm and gooshy inside, even though she told herself that was stupid.

“I dunno,” Harry admitted. “Maybe not.”

Gee, it was nice to be liked.

Nick finally sat up and leaned toward the desk. Fixing a firm eye on Harry he said, “Have you called the police?”

The man slowly shook his head. But before Nick could confront him on it, he added, “I went to Leah first and told her everything. She and Jackie decided to press charges, and they made the call to the police themselves.”

Nick relaxed. A little.

“I understand why that needed to happen.” Tears rose in Harry’s gray eyes and oozed a little onto his round cheeks. “But I couldn’t be the one to turn my wife in.”

Izzie reached over and put her hand on Nick’s leg, sensing he was about to make another comment about Delilah. She squeezed his thigh, warning him not to. Harry was suffering enough. He didn’t need to be told he was a fool for loving someone so hateful. “I understand,” she murmured.

“I hope you do. And I hope you’ll understand that I’m going to see her through this. She’ll be facing assault charges.”

“At the very least,” Nick mumbled.

“I know this might make you want to leave, Ro…Izzie. But I wish you wouldn’t.” The man smiled weakly. “You’re family.”

Huh. If poison was the way Delilah treated members of her family, Izzie would hate to see what she did to her enemies.

“I know that, too,” Izzie said, slowly pulling her hand away from Nick’s warm thigh, already missing the contact. Already missing him. “You love her. That’s what people who love each other do…they support one another, even when they make what other people might see as bad or foolish decisions.” Hearing a quiver in her voice as the subject touched much too close to home, Izzie offered Harry a tremulous smile.