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could feel his gaze slide her way as he drove. She wondered uneasily what he was thinking.
    Rex drove the car up to the house. When they got out, he tossed her the keys, pointing to the house. “Glad you left a night-light on.”
    â€œI didn’t know I had,” she murmured.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNothing, nothing,” she said quickly. But she’d be damned if she could remember leaving lights on. She hadn’t even explored the house yet—all she had really seen was the kitchen.
    Rex automatically walked with her up the path to the front door. He frowned, when he saw the window that she had broken.
    â€œYou didn’t get that fixed today. You should have.”
    â€œI will.” She wondered why she had said it so quickly, so defensively. She didn’t owe him any explanations.
    She managed to open the door on the first try, and that was a nice boost to her ego. She turned and smiled at Rex, laughing. “I did it.”
    â€œYes, you did.”
    She hesitated, wondering if she should invite him in. But then, he didn’t want her anywhere near him, and she’d had a miserable night on his account. Still...
    She trembled suddenly, looking down. He was a very attractive man. Tall, dark and—masculine. They were far from friends, yet in their first meeting they had taken a forbidden step toward intimacy. She had taken a step...and she wanted to retreat from it. He was rugged and blunt—a loner. They both wanted privacy.
    â€œThank you,” she murmured.
    â€œYou’re welcome,” he said, staring at her as she went into the house. “I’ll pick up that hose for you tomorrow.”
    â€œI should make the rental agency do it.”
    â€œIt’s no big thing.”
    She nodded, then realized that she was returning his stare. His eyes were so dark in the night. He was wearing jeans again, and a navy polo shirt. His arms, which were mostly bare, were tanned and nicely muscled.
    She wanted to ask him in. Of all the things that had happened the night before, she remembered the tenderness in his voice and the feeling of his arms as he’d held her. Something warm inside her stirred, something she quickly fought.
    She wasn’t ready for a relationship. She might never be ready again in her life.
    She knew he didn’t want her here on the peninsula. He had warned her to go—he had even laid odds against her staying. Still, she wanted to see him smile, to hear him laugh. She wanted to know what lay in his past that he would crave this solitude, that could have made him so ruthless when he had first touched her, so gentle when he had realized how terrified she had been.
    â€œGood night, then. Sleep well, Alexi.”
    â€œGood night, and thanks again.”
    Alexi stepped into the house, frowning as she looked around the lighted hallway.
    But then, even as she stared, she heard a little noise—and the house was plunged into total darkness.
    She didn’t scream at first. Her heart shuddered instinctively, but she wasn’t really afraid. The Brandywine house had been built in 1859, there could easily be problems with such things as electricity.
    But then she heard the footsteps, loud and clear. They came crashing down the stairway. She could feel the wind.... The stairway was at the other end of the hall, and she was very aware that someone was close—very close—to her.
    And it certainly wasn’t Rex Morrow—not tonight. He had just gone out the front door.
    She did scream then, just like a banshee. Someone had been upstairs. In the house.
    â€œAlexi!”
    There was a fierce pounding on the front door, and she knew the voice shouting her name belonged to Rex.
    She turned around, groping madly in the darkness and found the lock. The stubborn thing refused to give at first. Where was the person who had made the sound of footsteps? Her scream had cut off all other sound, and now she didn’t know if someone was still