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“Be careful, Sam.” What else could she say? Was it the killer out there? Did he know who she was?

She leaned over and pushed the journal and sketchpad into the drawer beside the bed and closed and locked it before slipping off the bed and going to the opposite end of the room. When she neared the corner where Sam was, he suddenly reached out and caught the front of her T-shirt, his fist closing on the thin fabric. She could feel the brush of his fingers against the swell of her breasts. Her heart accelerated and her gaze jumped to his. He pulled her slowly, inexorably, to him.

Her breath caught in her throat as he bent down toward her, his head descending, those dark eyes burning with desire. With something close to an emotion she was afraid to name, not when he was going out alone and the serial killer could be waiting for him. She couldn’t cloak him in armor, in a net of invisibility like she wanted. Instead, she gave herself to him. Surrendered completely, kissing him with that same unnamed emotion she saw in his eyes when he looked at her.

“Could he be here for you?” She whispered the query, her palms flat against his chest. “Because he missed you? Could it be a matter of pride?”

“I’m not easy to kill, Stella,” Sam reassured. His lips brushed over hers one more time. “The gun. I want it right next to you. Keep Bailey in the same room with you.”

She’d rather he take Bailey with him. They were going to have to get another dog. She watched him go, the hot chocolate in her hand, her heart in her mouth. She realized he hadn’t actually answered her. There was no real way of knowing who was out there watching, but someone was and it was too big of a coincidence to think that the serial killer had arrived on the scene and someone else—a peeping Tom—was stalking the resort.

She walked back to her bed and put the hot chocolate down on the nightstand before leaning down out of sight of the window to press the pad of her thumb over the button that would release the door cleverly hidden in the wall. Her thumbprint would open the safe quickly. She’d practiced over and over until she could find the button in her sleep. During the day, even though she knew it was there as well as the door to the safe, she had to look for it because it was so well hidden in the wooden walls.

She removed her gun, quickly loaded it and placed it right beside her, keeping it out of sight of the window, just in case the watcher could see into her bedroom. She picked up her hot chocolate and sipped it slowly. Bailey pushed his big head onto her bed, sensing she was uneasy.

“You don’t like it when he’s out there alone either, do you, big guy?” she crooned, scratching the dog behind his ears. She sighed, sipping at the chocolate, leaning back against the headboard and trying not to think about Sam being alone outside. She should have insisted on going out with him. “Since when do I stay inside, Bailey?”

She wasn’t the type of woman to just sit in her room on her butt while other people took the risks, so she leapt up, ignoring Bailey’s startled whine, and unhooked the night-vision binoculars that hung by the largest window facing the lake. She liked the view. The house sat on higher ground, allowing her a good view of not only the lake and marina, but a good portion of the front half of her property— the beautiful half. She wasn’t looking at the cabins and RV park or campsites or fishing camps. This was all beautiful land surrounding the lake.

She leaned against the window and put the binoculars to her eyes to do a slow sweep of the lake to see if anything looked suspicious. Next came the marina and docks. She continued the slow perusal of her land, moving the binoculars inch by inch along the shore. Something moved just under the trees down near the boat rental building.

As she adjusted her view, Sam’s frame leapt out at her. There was another man, thinner and a bit shorter, holding a gun on him. Two other men emerged from behind the trees just as Sam moved with blurring speed, sweeping the legs out from under the one holding the weapon. As he went down, Sam stripped him of the gun. He took down the other two men using a vicious swipe of the barrel to the side of one’s head, sending him to his knees, and pulling the other to him with an arm around his throat and the gun tight against his skull.


Tags: Christine Feehan Suspense