The third ring was followed by a click. "Bob, I need help!"

She was interrupted by a bored voice. "I'm away from my desk at the moment, but leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Beep. "This is bullshit, Bob!" She ran back to the office for her purse. "You said you'd always be there. They know where I am, and they're coming for me." She jabbed the END button and dropped the phone back into her pocket. That damned Bob! So much for his saccharine assurances that the government could protect her. She'd show him. Why, she'd… she'd stop paying her taxes. Of course, if she was murdered, that would no longer be a problem.

Focus! she reprimanded herself. This sort of jumbled-up thinking would get her killed. She skidded to a stop at the desk and grabbed her purse. She'd escape out the back and run till she found a taxi. Then, she'd go… where? If they knew where she worked, they probably also knew where she lived.

Oh God, she was so screwed.

"Good evening," a deep voice rumbled across the room.

With a squeal, Shanna jumped. A gorgeous man was standing by the front door. Gorgeous? She was really losing it, if she was checking out a hit man. He held something white against his mouth, but she hardly noticed it, for his eyes caught her attention and didn't let go. His gaze swept over her, his eyes a golden brown and tinged with hunger.

A spurt of frigid air jabbed at her head, so sudden and intense, she pressed a hand against her temple. "How… how did you get in?"

He continued to stare at her, but with a slight movement of one hand, he motioned toward the door.

"That's not possible," she whispered. The locked door and windows were intact. Had he managed to sneak in earlier? No, she would have noticed this man. Every cell in her body was aware of this man. Was it her imagination, or were his eyes growing more golden, more intense?