Navajo Justice. Aimee Thurlo

wood, was exquisitely made. She started to touch it, but drew her hand back. It seemed too personal to disturb.

      Laura continued to the den. The leather furniture looked comfortable and held that touch of masculinity that so defined Burke. This was a man’s room through and through. There was a no-nonsense, no-frills style of decor here that fitted in with what she’d learned about him so far, but nothing here really cast a light on his personal life.

      In her own den there were photos of her mother, and a rare one of her father. He’d died when she was three. There were shots of picnics with Elena and Christmases with friends and family, a chronicle of good times past. But there was nothing of that sort here.

      She looked at his bookcase, wondering what she’d be able to learn about him from his choice of reading material. She recognized several titles from her college days, such as The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli. If memory served her right, the author’s philosophy was simply that theological and moral arguments had no place in the political game. It was a gruesome, practical book that modern day military people were required to study. There was The Art of War by Tzu Sun, which ran along the same vein, A Book of Five Rings, which had been written by a famous samurai master. Then on a lighter vein—if one could call them that—were books by Ludlum, Clancy and Trevanian.

      Missing were the kind of books she treasured—ones by Tolkien, or David Eddings, or Danielle Steele—books that mingled fantasy with romantic adventure. Of course, generally speaking, she didn’t share the reading tastes of most men, something she attributed to yet another instance of the left brain–right brain dichotomy.

      Wondering which of the books on the shelf was his favorite, she leafed through several. It was clear from the wear and tear on the Clancy books that he’d reread all of them.

      Well, at least he favored fiction.

      Not in the least bit sleepy, Laura sat down on the leather sofa and looked around the room, wondering why there was nothing in the house, with the exception of the fetish and the books, capable of giving her a glimpse into Burke’s personal life. The more she mused about it, the more uneasy it made her. The place was beautiful, but more like a model home than an actual residence.

      Finally, too restless to continue sitting, she stood. She had things to do. Wasting time was not her style. She’d go over to her own house and start putting things away and cleaning up. When Elena went to bed she rarely woke up until morning and, in the meantime, Wolf would keep her safe. No one in his right mind would risk getting an animal that large ticked off. Besides, Burke had said he wouldn’t be gone long.

      As Laura put on Burke’s jacket and headed to the front door, Wolf came trotting up and sat directly in front of her, so close she could feel his breath on her leg. It was a little disconcerting, but as she looked down at him and saw him wag his tail, she knew it was okay.

      Laura crouched down beside him and sank her fingers into the rough fur around his powerful neck. “I’m going to leave for a little while. You can watch Elena and make sure she’s safe.”

      Laura tried to slip out the door, but the dog forced his way beside her.

      “Wolf, no. You have to stay here.”

      She pushed him back, hoping she wouldn’t get him angry, then slipped out the door quickly. Standing outside for a second, she heard him scratching at the door, but there was no howling or barking. Figuring she’d won this round, she locked the door and headed to her home.

      Laura unlocked the front door and went inside, turning on the lights. The chaos the brightness revealed depressed her considerably.

      Deciding quickly, she started in her office, knowing it was the one room she needed to get organized first, for her own peace of mind. Was it just her imagination, or did the room really look worse than when she’d left it a few hours ago? A relatively intact folder she was sure she’d seen earlier on the desk was now on the floor among the scattered papers.

      Suddenly she saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye. Before she could even turn her head, a hand clamped down hard over her mouth and her arm was twisted painfully behind her back. It hurt so badly tears formed in her eyes.

      “If you make a sound or struggle, I’ll rip off your arm,” the man growled. “Now tell me where it is, or I’ll just kill you right now,” he said, moving his hand back slightly from her mouth.

      “What? What are you looking for?”

      “Don’t play games,” he ordered, his voice no more than a rumble.

      Terror shot through her. The man was crazy. Remembering a self-defense move the heroine of one of her books had used, Laura moaned and collapsed as if fainting, forcing the man to shift his hold to keep her from slipping away from him.

      As his grip loosened, she stiffened and brought her heel down hard on his instep, simultaneously elbowing his stomach.

      Laura screamed and twisted free. Only a few seconds ahead of her assailant, she raced for the front door, knowing it was her only chance.

      Chapter Four

      Laura threw the door open, ran out and collided abruptly with Burke. He wrapped his arms around her, steadying her.

      “Laura, what’s wrong?”

      Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it beating. “Someone grabbed me from behind,” she said. “He’s inside!”

      “Wolf, guard her!” he ordered the dog, anger flaring on his face.

      As Burke went past her into the house, Laura caught a glimpse of a figure going through the living room into the kitchen.

      Realizing the man intended to escape out the back door, Laura made a split-second decision. She’d go around the outside of the house and try to catch a glimpse of him when he came out to the street. She needed to know who her enemy was and, with Wolf beside her, the man wouldn’t dare attack.

      She was just approaching the driveway when the man leaped the fence that bordered her backyard, sprinting in her direction. She could hear Burke on the other side, closing in. Night shielded the stranger’s face in shadows and, before she could get a clearer look, he scooped up a large metal trash can and threw it directly at her.

      At that instant, Wolf leaped up and knocked her to the ground, and the trash barrel missed by at least a foot. As it bounced across the yard, the man jumped into the passenger side of a parked car, barely escaping Burke’s leap over the fence and desperate lunge at the door. The vehicle roared away with squealing tires.

      Burke ran a few more steps and, catching the vehicle tag number, wrote it down.

      By the time Laura got to her knees, he was at her side. He helped her up, trying to gauge the extent of her injuries.

      “Where do you hurt?” he asked brusquely, looking her up and down.

      “I’m not hurt at all, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I have a few scuffs and bruises, but I’ll live.”

      Burke shook his head. “Why did you try to head him off like that? What did you think you were going to do if you caught up to him?”

      “I just wanted to get a look at his face. He threatened me in my own home.” Her voice trembled and she swallowed hard. “No one has a right to do that.”

      “Home should be a place of safety, and he violated that. I understand. But you reacted without thinking it through,” he said, his tone somber. “And in situations like this, you can’t afford to do that. It’s dangerous to act impulsively, Laura. You have to be more careful.”

      “I know, but I figured that with you at his heels and Wolf by my side, his focus would have been on getting away, not attacking me. And believe it or not, I never even noticed the car until he got in.”

      Burke exhaled softly. “As you’ve seen, trouble can be anywhere. The intruder obviously had a partner. From now on, be more careful.” He looked