.

      He stumbled back, hitting the wall with a thud.

      Gasping and dizzy, Amber burst out the front door and into the street.

      * * *

      Patrick climbed into his SUV, and before he even started the vehicle a shrill ping on his cell phone announced the arrival of a new text message. He grabbed his handset from the clip on his belt and read the text from Liza.

      Enjoyed tonight. Let’s do it again soon.

      “Let’s not.” Patrick shook his head. It was impossible to just be friends with the woman. He clicked off the phone and tossed it on the seat beside him.

      Another ping.

      Really. Ignoring the pesky tone, Patrick plunged the key into the ignition and fired up the powerful V8.

      A third ping.

      “Relentless woman.” Debating whether to silence it, he grabbed the cell phone and glanced at the message. It wasn’t from Liza. It was Amber.

      The police are swarming my house. Someone had broken in and was waiting for me when I got home. Apparently the bomb was meant for me after all.

      Frustration exploded in Patrick’s chest. Yanking the gearshift into Reverse, he peeled out of the parking lot and headed in the direction of Amber’s house. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

      He scrolled through the contacts on his phone, punched on Amber’s name.

      “Come on. Come on.” Patrick turned down a side street, taking a shortcut, waiting for her to answer.

      Finally, “Hello.”

      “Amber?”

      “No, this is Kim, a friend—”

      “Kim, this is Patrick Wiley. I met you this evening.”

      “The detective?”

      “Yes. Where’s Amber?”

      “She’s talking to some of the officers here. Don’t worry, she’s okay.”

      Thank You, God. “I’ll be right there.”

      Someone cut in front of him and he leaned on the horn, the thrum of blood pounding in his ears. Ten minutes later he slammed on his brakes and nosed his SUV in between two patrol cars outside Amber’s bungalow.

      As soon as his boots hit the pavement, he saw her. Surrounded by a handful of patrol officers, she stood there with her arms locked around her waist, her face expressionless beneath the glow of police flashlights.

      Patrick approached the small group. His jaw tightened along with his fist when he thought about someone trying to harm her. Even after eleven years, he felt a need to protect her.

      “What do you know, Gil?” Patrick directed his question at one of the officers.

      “It seems somebody broke into Miss Talbot’s house. Got in through the laundry room window. He was waiting for her when she got home.” He nodded toward Amber. “Fortunately, she got away without being hurt.”

      Patrick’s gaze bounced to Amber. “Did you get a look at him?”

      Amber shook her head. “No, the lights were off and it was too dark.”

      “So her attacker got away?” Patrick asked the officer.

      Gil removed his hat, scratched at his sparse hairline. “Yes, sir. Once Miss Talbot got away from him, the crook didn’t hang around. But we’ve got the forensics team working on fingerprints.”

      “Good.” Although Patrick wouldn’t hold his breath. Criminals today were savvy. Too many seasons of CSI. Whoever was after Amber meant business and wouldn’t be careless.

      “And Roberts and his team have their dogs out scouring the area,” Gil added.

      Patrick nodded. “Have you gotten a complete statement from Miss Talbot?”

      “Yes, sir, we did.”

      “Then I’ll take it from here. Thanks for your work, guys.”

      The group started to disperse, leaving Amber standing beside him.

      “How are you doing?” He draped his arm around her shoulder, breaking his own rule on getting personal with victims. But he had to admit, for the second time in one day, it felt good having Amber in his hold.

      Amber shuddered slightly beneath his touch, but didn’t pull away. “I’ve had better evenings.”

      He was experiencing the same feeling. “Do you have a new revelation on why someone would want to hurt you?”

      After an endless moment, Amber took a deep, quavering breath and nodded weakly. “Yes.”

      Patrick raised a brow. Now they were getting somewhere.