It could be just a wrong number, she’d told herself a dozen times even as the familiar uneasiness returned and walls of her house began to close in around her. If she didn’t get away for a little while she’d end up running again.

She couldn’t afford to run.

So with Bennie sleeping peacefully on the sofa, she didn’t have the heart to wake him. She’d simply grabbed the keys, left the house and drove for hours. In her rush to escape for a little while she’d forgotten to leave any lights on. A huge mistake. One that she of all people should know better than to commit.

The headlights on the SUV illuminated most of the side and a portion of the front of the house.

But not the door.

She listened carefully but nothing out of the ordinary could be heard above the surging ocean waves close by.

And yet something wasn’t right. The house appeared too quiet. By now, Bennie should have recognized the sound of her car and started barking in enthusiasm at her return. She listened again. Silence. No Bennie. No nothing.

The urge to flee again overwhelmed her. He could be here. Waiting for her in the shadows or inside the house. Her worst nightmare.

Seconds ticked by while Faith tried to make the right decision.

"This is ridiculous!" Her voice didn’t sound much more confident than she felt. With one final glance into the darkness surrounding her, she killed the engine, slid from the car, and hurried up the steps.

She slipped the key into the door and then she heard it. Footsteps moving quickly up the steps behind her shattered Faith’s small amount of confidence. When a shaft of light from a flashlight hit the porch, a startled gasp escaped and the hand holding the keys shook sending them slipping from her trembling fingers.

She turned quickly to face her attacker while trying to regain her bearings. The beam immediately trained on her face, temporarily blinding her.

"No!" Without hesitating she raced for the opposite side of the house, her mind springing to life along with her fear. She’d expected this moment, planned for it for two years now and yet the reality of it didn’t feel anything like those moments practiced in her head.

Her available escape options were now limited to one. Without the keys the car was useless. Blindly Faith ran for the steps located off the side of the porch and luckily far away from the person holding the flashlight. Her numbed mind tried to recall the things she’d gone over at least a dozen times in the past.

There were three – no four steps leading down to the grassy yard. The gate separating her small backyard from the beach would be some fifteen feet behind the house. She’d carefully counted off each step her first day in the house. It had become part of her routine whenever she moved to a new location. Finding an escape route was key even before locating the local police station.

In the dark and fleeing for her life she knew it would be next to impossible to unlock the gate before her attacker caught up with her.

"Wait! Stop!" Faith vaguely she registered the deep male voice calling out to her as her right foot cleared the final step. She headed in the direction she gauged the gate to be, her heart pounding in her ears. Behind her, she could hear his heavy footsteps echoing along the porch. He was following her!

"Stop! I have your dog!" Faith bolted for the gate, with her pursuer following closely behind her at a rapid click. Her fingers stretched out in front of her found the gate. She struggled with the latch as the man following her finally reached her side.

A strong hand clamped her shoulder bringing her to an abrupt halt. Before he could stop himself the momentum of his body slammed against hers sending them both sprawling along the dew-covered grass. His much larger frame landed on top of her knocking the breath from her.

It took a few minutes to drag air into her lungs again. And then she was kicking and punching him, fighting with everything she had inside to free herself but her strength didn’t come close to matching his. He caught her flaying hands together easily in one of his and brought them up over her head then moving to a sitting position he straddled her body.

"Stop that," He said his breathing not nearly as labored as hers. Although he was being extremely careful not to hurt her, the strength in his grip and the lean muscled hardness of his body pressed against hers indicated someone worked out on a regular basis. "I’m not going to hurt you."

She hadn’t realized until he spoke again that the expected attack hadn’t come. In fact, he’d released her hands the minute she stopped struggling and got to his feet. The minute her body was free she wanted to run but she couldn’t move. She didn’t trust him.

"I’m not here to hurt you," He repeated a little more softly, the calm reassurance in his voice forcing her eyes open. She’d closed them the moment his body came in contact with hers and something unfamiliar and unrelated to the fear caught her off guard.

Her first physical impression of him was that he was incredibly tall.

"Who are you?" She ignored the hand he held out to her. He didn’t sound like a stalker but then she couldn’t remember anything about the man or the attack.

"I told you, I have your dog."

"What are you talking about? My dog is inside. How can you have him?" She sat up slowly, rubbing her wrists where he’d held them. Dressed entirely in dark clothing she couldn’t make out much about the man. Was he crazy or simply drunk?

"Well, his nametag says his name is Bennie and that he lives here."

While she stared at him in confusion a barking sound coming from the front porch of the house seemed to confirm his story. Bennie was scared of his own shadow. He wouldn’t willingly go to a stranger.

"Bennie, its okay. Come here, boy." The little Pug who’d been her only companion for two years came bounding around the corner of the house and into her open arms.

"Satisfied." He sounded amused. She got to her feet and brushed off her jeans with Bennie wriggled in her arms.

She could only imagine what he must be thinking after his hot pursuit chase. "Yes. I’m sorry. I thought..." She’d come close to telling him things she hadn’t shared with another human being besides Ben. She shook her head. "Never mind. I’m sorry. Where did you find him?"

"Sitting on my back deck. I found him barking at my back door demanding to be let in. I guess he mistook my house for yours. He doesn’t appear to be able to see too well at night."

That much was true. When she’d rescued Bennie at the animal shelter in Austin, the attendant told her the dog appeared to be around fourteen at the time. He’d been there almost three weeks. Bennie’s days were numbered.

While he suffered from a touch of arthritis and his bladder wasn’t as good as it used to be she wouldn’t trade him for any amount of money.

"Well, thank you for bringing him back. I can’t imagine how he got out." Faith headed back toward the house with Bennie’s rescuer falling into step beside her.

"Here let me help you find the keys." He stepped up onto the porch after her and retrieved his flashlight from where he’d dropped it.

"Thank you." The flashlight’s beam found the keys beneath the porch swing.

He handed her the flashlight and got down on his knees to recover the keys. She caught a glimpse of faded jeans and a long-sleeved black turtleneck. The casual way he dressed didn’t quite fit with her first impression of him. Somehow she didn’t peg him as a local.

The flashlight’s beam illuminated the rich golden highlights scattered throughout his brown hair which he wore swept back. A single strand fell across his forehead dispelling the image that he’d walked off the cover of some expensive fashion magazine.

"Here you go," He said as he got to his feet. She realized she’d been right. He was tall. Well over six foot which forced her to tip her head back just to look into his eyes.

"Thank you." Her voice sounded strained. Faith took a step back. He was too close. He handed her the keys. His fingers brushed hers sending an unwelcome awareness of him as a man. Not that he needed to touch her to make her aware of him. The turtleneck clung to his body, accentuating broad shoulders and a flat stomach. Before her gaze could dip lower to dangerous territory she forced herself to look into his.

Incredibly perceptive gray eyes narrowed just a fraction at her reaction but he didn’t say a word as she unlocked the door.

She turned back to him. She needed him to leave so that she could think clearly again and yet wanted him to stay because she didn’t want try and search the house alone and wonder if he would be there waiting somewhere inside for her return.

"Are you okay?" He’d caught some of the fear in her eyes. "If you’d like I could come inside and take a look around."

Relief flooded her face. "Yes. Yes, that would be great. Thank you, that’s very kind of you." She stepped aside and let him pass through.

Faith waited close to the door clutching Bennie against her chest in a defensive gesture while he searched through each room of the place.

"Here’s your problem." She followed him into the kitchen and saw that he pointed to Benn’s pet door. "Looks like you forgot to lock it in place. Bennie probably figured out how to open it on his own."

"Oh thank God. I thought..."

"That you had an intruder." His expression softened into a smile. "You’re new here but you’ll learn soon enough. Hope Island is one of the safest places in Maine. We rarely have more than an occasional high school prank reported. You needn’t worry about being here alone."

So he was a local. "You live here?"

"Part time—on weekends. I have a business in Portland that keeps me in the city during the week but I’m restoring the house down the beach from you on weekends. My name is JT Wyatt by the way." He held out his hand to her once more. This time Faith didn’t hesitate.

"Faith McKenzie." So he was a carpenter. That explained the healthy tan and the well toned body. But it still didn’t fit him. She realized she was staring at him again. He’d probably gotten used to women staring at him. "Thank you for saving Bennie."

"No problem." He moved to the door and then turned back to look at her, the kindness in those incredible sexy gray eyes made normal breathing suddenly impossible.

"It was my pleasure--,"The ringing phone cut through whatever else he might have said. She closed her eyes for a moment. Not again. This can’t be happening again.

Faith opened her eyes and glanced at JT’s. He watched her closely. She could read every single one of the questions in his eyes. She’d seen them all before.

If it were truly him, it wouldn’t matter if she didn’t answer. He’d just keep calling.

"Don’t you think you should answer that? It might be important." After the third unanswered ring JT picked up the cordless and handed it to her forcing her hand.

The caller id registered unknown.

"Yes-yes of course, you’re right." Her voice shook. With trembling fingers she hit the talk button and listened to the familiar silence on the other end. Deep in her heart she knew he’d found her again in spite of all her efforts to escape him. Stark fear made it hard to remain in control.

"Will you excuse me," She forced out some excuse. Even to her own ears it came out ineligible but she didn’t care. She needed to put distance between herself and the man watching her every move far too closely before she fell apart in front of him.

Faith closed the door to the kitchen and leaned against it. "Please, please just leave me alone," She whispered shakily. "Please, I can’t do this anymore." The sharp crashing sound of the receiver being slammed into its cradle became her only answer. Slowly Faith moved to the table and sank into the chair her hands white and trembling as she rubbed them over her eyes trying to wipe away the tears that she couldn’t seem to control.

"Are you okay?" JT said quietly from the doorway. She hadn’t heard him follow her here but she couldn’t bring herself to face him just yet. Not when she felt this exposed.

She got to her feet and turned away before he could spot the tears.

"I’m fine." Her voice betrayed far more than her silence. She shook her head.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I’m not--,"

He came quietly over to where she stood and stopped inches away, his finger gently capturing a single tear and holding it up to her as proof positive. "Then what’s this? Tell me why are you crying, Faith? Who was that? What’s going on here?"

The gentleness in his voice became her undoing. She covered her face with trembling hands, unable to control the tears any longer.

Slowly he removed her hands from her face then took her in his arms. "It’s okay...Don’t cry. I’m sorry, you’re right, it’s none of my business."

She felt disappointment at his answer. What was wrong with her? When had she become so pathetic that she allowed herself to turn to a complete stranger for comfort?

She moved out of his arms. "I’m okay. It’s nothing." Even though she still trembled from fear at least her voice sounded steady as she forced herself to look at him.

He wasn’t convinced. That much was easy to read. "Are you sure?"

She nodded then forced words out. "Yes. Yes, I’m fine."

"What are you running from, Faith McKenzie?" He asked so softly that she almost didn’t catch the words. She couldn’t trust him with this nightmare.

"Nothing--,"

"You’re lying. I spent too many years as a detective not to know when someone is lying to me, Faith." He answered her unspoken question. "I can help you, but you have to trust me. Whatever this is, it won’t go away on its own. It hasn’t has it? And you can’t keep running for the rest of your life."

She turned away. A police officer. She’d long ago learned to stop trusting her life to the police after the doubts and innuendos in Austin.

"You’re tired and it’s late. But my offer still stands. Whenever you’re ready to trust me, I can help. I live just down the road from you." He reached inside his wallet and pulled out a business card. "Here are my numbers. The one at the bottom is for the house here but you can reach me on my cell at any time, day or night."

Wyatt Securities jumped out at her in bold black lettering.

He turned and walked to the door. "Let me give you some advice, Faith. Living on the island, especially out here along the beach can be isolated. We’re all neighbors here. We rely on each other. And most people don’t want trouble. I don’t know what you’re running from but if it’s bad enough to make you as scared as you clearly are, I hope it doesn’t follow you here for everyone’s sake." He lifted a finger in a final farewell then turned and walked out her door.

He had no way of knowing how much she desperately hoped for the same thing.

                             ***

JT had seen the expression in her eyes a thousand times in a thousand different victims while working domestic violence cases. But it never got easier to accept. And it always promised a bad ending. Faith was scared to death. What kind of trouble was she hiding from?

He walked along the beach close to the water’s edge trying to dismiss the unfamiliar stirring in him of something that resembled compassion.

This had been the week from hell and the upcoming week promised even more turmoil. The final straw came with the latest and by far the worst screw-up by Suzie his temporary assistant. She’d almost cost Wyatt Securities one of their oldest and biggest customers. It had taken a whole lot of schmoozing from himself and Teddy to regain their trust.

So what exactly had possessed him to offer to help a total stranger? The last thing he needed in his life was the trouble Faith McKenzie represented.

The house he’d been restoring here on Hope Island for going on three years now had become his only real source of contentment since Emily’s death.

His father, a local Hope Island police officer taught him to find comfort in the simple things in life. After Edward Wyatt retired from the force he’d begun restoring houses up and down the Maine coast. JT never felt closer to his father than when they were working side by side to create something together. But all that changed with Emily’s death.

Once he reached the edge of his property, he turned and looked back along the beachfront to the house he’d just left.

Who exactly had been on that other end of that call to bring such fear to her? His sister Liz kept him informed about the happenings around Hope Island. He knew the house had been rented over a month ago and yet there were at least a dozen or more moving boxes scattered around the house. Only someone on the run or afraid of committing would leave boxes unpacked for weeks on end.

That she was scared out of her mind was easy to see in her initial reaction to his sudden appearance. Even after she realized he posed no threat, he could see it in her frightened eyes, the way she didn’t like for him to get too close, invade her personal space. All those things pointed to someone who didn’t know her attacker’s identity. If that were the case, then every stranger would represent a possible threat to her.

The detective in him grew increasingly curious about what she might be hiding in her past. A woman so young didn’t move to an isolated town such as Hope Island without just cause.

He unlocked the back door and stepped inside to the beeping of the answering machine. Three missed calls. All from Liz. She worried about him. That’s what big sisters did. He’d call her from the office tomorrow.

Liz had been lucky. She’d taken after their mother. Kind and gentle Liz still held out hope that he would someday find another match. JT didn’t have the heart to spoil that dream for her. But he knew it wasn’t possible. He couldn’t love again. The past five years without Emily in his life proved that very clearly to him. No matter what Liz chose to believe he knew the truth. He was damaged goods.