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be the least likely suspect. The locals all thought he was wonderful—a generous man who looked out for his family and really cared about the local community. He'd only got the job two years previously, but it had been enough for him to insinuate himself into the town.
       Huh! If only they knew! He'd made her life a misery from the minute he'd married her mother, smarmily charming to everyone in public, but nasty the second they were alone. Even her mother, while not condemning Gina's dislike of her new stepfather, never believed just how vicious he could get. He never left a single bruise, but the mental scars had lasted for years.
       It had been a cruel fate that had had her multinational employer transfer her to their newest resort. The last place she wanted to be was close to her stepfather and weasel-like half-brother, but she couldn't refuse that sort of promotion. And the only town within commuting distance of the Oasis Retreat was Two Oaks, the same town where Alan West was sheriff.
       "So…?" Megan was fidgeting, impatient with the
    long spell of quiet.
       "I guess." Gina lowered herself back onto the sofa. "But even if it is him, what do I do about it? I can't exactly report it to the sheriff, can I?" she scoffed.
       It was a feeble attempt at bravado, and she knew it. The whole thought of someone disliking her so much swamped her with memories of the past. It had seemed like a lifetime ago when she'd been so lacking in self-esteem she'd not even bothered applying for college and had jumped at the opportunity to take on a junior clerical role with the Oasis Group. Her stepfather had sneered at her too many times. He'd told her she was worthless, she had no ability, no potential, was ugly, that no one could possibly ever like someone like her…
       And now it all came back in a rush of fear and selfloathing. Once again, someone thought she was worthless—so worthless she could be killed and no one would even notice. No one would even care.
       Was she really that dull a person? Gina lowered her head, her face in her hands, and tried to concentrate on positive things. For the first time in years she couldn't think of any, and she was horrified by the tears that started to fall. Oh, God, and now Megan was going to think she was useless too.
       She felt someone settle onto the sofa beside her, and a pair of arms wrapped firmly around her shoulders. Megan. A hand started to stroke her neck… calming… soothing. She felt just like a little child again. Safe—and loved.
       Megan was so close she could feel her heart beating, its rhythm jarring against her own. She snuggled closer. Now she could feel the warm moisture of Megan's breath tickling the fine hairs at her nape.
       "You're not alone, honey," was breathed into her ear. "Not any more."
       "No." She wasn't alone.
       Megan's arm nudged her breast, her hand brushing softly over her nipple as she moved. Gina sighed, happy again, and relaxed. She barely even felt the careful stroking as Megan's fingers again brushed over her nipple, but she felt it pebbling in her bra.
       The fabric was rough against the sensitized skin, and she rubbed at it irritably, cursing her choice of clothing. The only reason she'd fished it out from the back of the drawer was the memory of Nate standing in her entry, dominating it, and staring through her blouse to the lace demi-bra that barely covered her. She hadn't worn this horrible old thing for years but had instinctively snatched it up and put it on under her sweater. It wasn't the slightest bit sexy—probably the reason she'd chosen it, she realised ruefully. It was less Nate she had to worry about than her own reaction to him.

    * * * *

    Nate stared into the mirror, his eyes fixed on the trickle of red seeping down his chin. His beard grew faster near full moon, and he tended to shave twice a day, but he hadn't nicked himself in years. This is what not paying attention does, he