Danger at Her Door by Beth Cornelison

Author:Beth Cornelison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2007-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Wow, sounds like you had a busy night.” Ginny tucked her feet beneath her on Megan’s love seat and smoothed a flyaway wisp of white-blond hair behind her ear.

Megan paced to her living room window and paused a moment to look through the blinds at Jack’s house. She chewed her bottom lip, remembering the heat of Jack’s kiss…and her panic when he’d pressed her against the wall, his body confining hers.

“What do I do, Gin?”

“About what? Your suspicions of Frank Harwood? Or…the feelings you’ve developed for Jack?” She paused, the silent moment full of significance. “Those are both pretty big issues. Which do you want to deal with first?”

Turning from the window, Megan crossed the floor again and rubbed her arms. “I don’t know. You’re supposed to help me make sense of all this. You tell me what to do.”

“Ah, shifting responsibility to me?”

Megan scowled at Ginny then buried her face in her hands. “I don’t want to deal with any of it! I want to leave town.”

“Mmm-hmm, running from your problems.”

She growled at Ginny. “Are you gonna help me figure this out?”

Sam followed her as she paced back to the window and glanced outside again. When he whined, she knelt beside her furry friend and hugged his neck.

Ginny swung her feet to the floor and stretched. They’d been up all night following Megan’s late-night call for help, and fatigue showed on Ginny’s face. Along with infinite patience.

Once again, Ginny had proven a rock in the middle of Megan’s latest storm.

“You know exactly what you need to do. About Jack. About Frank Harwood. About everything. But you’re holding back.” Ginny’s voice held no censure, only loving support.

Megan pushed her nose deeper into Sam’s thick coat. Sam was warm and comforting, but he was nothing like the heat and solace she’d known all too briefly wrapped in Jack’s embrace.

Before she’d freaked. Before she’d blown everything by panicking. But on the heels of confronting the man she believed was her rapist, Jack’s tight hold and aggressive kiss had been too much. Too soon.

“Why are you afraid to do what you know you have to do?” Ginny pressed.

Afraid. Megan cringed at the word. For too long, fear and uncertainty had imprisoned her more securely than the handcuffs her rapist had used to fetter her to her old brass headboard. Old, as in she’d gotten rid of the headboard right after her attack.

Now she had a sleigh bed—a beautiful antique piece made from a solid slab of varnished walnut. No beams, bars or holes where anyone could tie or bind her down again. But lovely as it was, her new bed frame was a testament to the extremes she’d gone to since her attack. The changes she made in her life. Because of fear. Because of him.

She’d changed jobs, left graduate school, moved to a new house. And she’d let Greg walk away without a fight. She’d left behind everything that had been a part of her life at the time of the rape. As if she could escape the memories of her attack, outrun the fear and anger and heartache.

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