dining room were there. They were finally almost done with the restorations over here. They just hadn’t decided what to do with these rooms yet.
If they would need to do anything with them, Meredith reflected. After this weekend, they weren’t likely to have any guests, so the rooms would likely—
She heard them a split second too late, the footsteps rushing up behind her. She automatically started to turn—
She never had the chance. Something hard and solid hit her upper back.
She flew forward, knocked straight off her feet. The rolling pin burst out of her hand before she could think to grab it tighter. The ground came rushing up at her. She barely had time to throw her arms out before she crashed into the ground.
She didn’t have time to recover, didn’t have time to move. Suddenly a hand fisted in her hair, yanking hard. Before she could cry out from the pain, from the fear, her head was slammed down into the floor. Every bone in her skull seemed to crash together. Stars exploded before her eyes, blurring her vision.
Dazed, she barely registered something tugging at her hip. No, her pocket...
She understood in a flash. Her keys. They were going for her keys.
Fighting the cloud of pain fogging her brain, she lashed out, kicking her legs, thrashing from side to side. Sucking in a breath, she threw her mouth open and yelled as loud as she could.
Even to her ears it sounded weak, a low moan instead of the scream she wanted—needed—to release.
Panicked, terrified, determined to fight them off, it took her a moment to realize the hands were no longer at her side. She couldn’t feel anyone’s presence nearby.
They were gone.
“Meredith?”
The voice came from farther down the hall ahead of her. Tom, she recognized, relief flooding through her.
“Meredith!”
Moments later she felt a hand on her shoulder. She instinctively flinched, until the gentleness of the touch registered.
“Hey,” he said, his voice again a balm on her nerves.
She slowly rolled onto her side, trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. She placed her hand on the floor to push herself up to an upright position.
“Easy,” he said, reaching out to help her sit up. She looked up to find him kneeling beside her. “What happened?”
“Someone knocked me down,” she said, wincing at both the pain and the memory. “They hit me, slammed my head into the floor...” She swallowed, the memories rushing back.
It was all painfully familiar. The feeling of being pushed, of being struck, of someone on top of her, of her head being knocked into the floor—
The back of her eyes began to burn. She immediately closed them and lowered her head, refusing to let the tears come, to give into the emotion, to let Tom see.
He swore. “You could have been killed.”
Every instinct she had automatically rejected the idea. “No,” she said faintly. She thought back to what had happened. “I don’t think they were trying to kill me. I felt them fumbling for my pockets. They were trying to take my keys.”
“And they damn well could have killed you to get them.”
His voice was tight with anger, though not toward her, she knew. She was familiar with that sound.
She felt a finger touch lightly under her chin, prompting her to raise her head. She didn’t resist. The finger disappeared. Then, so softly she didn’t realize it at first, his hands were sliding against her cheeks, cradling her face.
“Look at me,” he ordered, the tone soft but firm. She raised her eyes to obey.
And found herself looking straight into his.
The breath caught in her throat. She peered, helplessly, into his eyes, into his face, until everything else in the world seemed to fade away. There was nothing but the man in front of her, looking back at her. The tightness that had been gripping her body gradually eased, her racing heartbeat slowing to a steady, even throb.
He really did have the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. It seemed as though she could get lost in them forever, drifting in a sea of deep, bottomless blue. Yet it was more than the color than pulled her in. It was the kindness she saw in them, the empathy, the humanity. In the back of her mind she recognized that she’d never seen such a look in Brad’s eyes. Not for her, not for anything. Because he hadn’t been a good man. And Tom Campbell was, deep in his core. She felt the unmistakable truth of it in hers.
The warmth