Samantha waited just until Holt was out of site before she slowed down. Being upset was no excuse for speeding and putting other people at risk.

She didn't know what it was about Holt, but he'd caught her twice doing something she rarely did. Lately, it seemed her good sense had disappeared. She didn't make a habit of speeding around like a manic. From her work in a trauma center, she knew firsthand what excessive speed could do to people.

In her experience, dying was not the worst case scenario.

Josh's jeep wasn't in her driveway when she reached her small two bedroom apartment. Apparently he had stopped somewhere else on his way back here. Sam didn't care. She could use the time alone to get herself under control and figure out just why she'd acted like a spoiled child earlier with Holt.

She wouldn't blame him if he was furious with her. He had every right to be after her inexcusable behavior.

She reached the tiny porch of her apartment, which was really one half of a small house that had been divided into two duplexes, before she remembered that her house key wasn't in her pocket where she usually kept it, because the slacks she wore didn't have pockets. She dug through her purse for her house key, thinking all the while that she had to be weird to be so paranoid that she refused to keep her house key on the same chain as her car keys. But she knew she was getting better. Just six months ago, she'd never have left her car for more than five minutes without activating the alarm. Now she did it all the time.

Unfortunately, she still hadn't found her house key. She leaned against the front door for support.

"Darn it, where are—"

And she stumbled backwards when the door gave way behind her.

She screamed before she could stop herself. Her purse went flying, scattering its contents across the hardwood floor of the living room. Sam scrambled swiftly to her feet, shaking so bad that her teeth were nearly chattering.

When her and Josh had left this morning, the door had been locked. She was positive, because she remembered checking it herself.

Was someone in her apartment?

Was he in her apartment?

The thought made her blood run cold.

Then she heard the floor creak in the kitchen. Oh, God. What if it was him?

Holt couldn't help himself; the closer he got to Pop's Place, the harder it was to fight the urge to turn around and go after Samantha.

That woman was a menace to society. If he were smart, he'd get as far away from her as possible and stay away from her. It didn't matter that she needed a keeper. He wasn't the one for the job. Anyway, it appeared that someone else held that position at the moment. A man that looked like he should be playing a lifeguard on television, who probably didn't have an ounce of sense and couldn't take care of a woman because he was still a kid himself.

Who was he to interfere in her relationships? If she preferred a boy over a man, it wasn't any of his business.

But it was. Because the harder he fought it, the more he wanted her for himself. He slapped his hand against the steering wheel. Just his luck to start falling for a woman when he most wanted to avoid romantic entanglements. And with a woman who was the opposite of everything he'd ever wanted in one to boot.

He finally gave up the fight and made a swift U-turn on a deserted stretch of highway.

"Damn," he muttered furiously.

He'd resisted a mere two minutes.

"Hey, what'd you leave the door open for?" Josh said after he came through the arch between the kitchen and the living room.

Samantha felt like she could've fainted her heart was beating so fast. At the welcome sight of Josh, her heartbeat stuttered, then started slowing down.

"I didn't see your Jeep. Where is it?" She tried to sound casual, but when she spoke she heard the tremor in her voice.

Josh didn't. He waved in the general direction of the backyard of the small single story complex. "Oh, I parked it in back, because I've got to check it out. It's acting up again. I should've driven my Lexus but I like that old Jeep.

Sam smiled, relaxing a little. He'd had that old Jeep ever since college. She didn't think he'd ever get rid of it. For some insane reason, he thought it was special. Sam thought it was an unreliable piece of junk.

Finally getting herself under control, Sam headed for the couch. Her legs didn't feel like they could hold her up for much longer. When she plopped down onto the cushions and leaned her head back, closing her eyes, she breathed a little easier. "I guess I should thank you for opening the front door for me, but you really shouldn't leave the door open like that."

"What are you talking about?" Josh's voice was laced with confusion. "I didn't come in through the front door, I came in through the back."

Sam jerked upright on the couch. "You didn't unlock the front door?"

"No."

Sam didn't consider herself to be a nervous person. Not usually, anyway. But right then, she could've sworn she was hyperventilating. Very quickly. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, Josh was rushing over to her, helping her lay back on the couch, and irritating her with his constant refrain of "Sam, Sam, Sam, are you okay?"

How long could a person hyperventilate before passing out?

Not very long, she discovered.