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remembered a time when he hit her so hard she’d have sworn her teeth had rattled in her head. He’d been angry that day because she’d left her shoes out in the middle of her bedroom. He’d tripped on them when he’d come into her room to wish her well in school. But the stinging red mark he’d left on her face had meant she couldn’t go to school that day or the next. She’d been fifteen years old.
    Kristen curled her fingers into a fist. Anger boiled inside her as she remembered how she’d cowered in front of him that day so long ago.
    As she zipped the knapsack closed, she forced the memory from her mind and replaced it with Dane Cambia’s quick smile. His deep voice swirled in her head. He’d said all the right things and seemed like one of the good guys. And she liked him.
    Kristen put on her sneakers and went downstairs. She came into the reception area just as Cambia closed a flip phone and tucked it back in on his belt holster. Instinct had her tensing.
    He heard her and turned. Even white teeth flashed. “That was fast. I was just on the phone with the hardware store. Wanted to make sure the lumber I ordered had arrived.”
    Feeling foolishly paranoid, she shoved her hands in her pockets. “Time is money, I suppose.”
    “You are right about that, Miss Kristen.” He hitched his head toward the side door. “I’ve got my sledgehammer in the truck. The way I figure it, I’ll knock down walls and you can drag debris to the construction Dumpster out back. I just checked, and see it’s arrived.”
    “It came this morning.”
    “You mind helping me unload a few supplies from my truck? Many hands make light work.”
    She was glad to have something to do. “You’re the boss.”
    He grinned before heading out the front door. She followed. When she reached the front stoop, she paused and looked from right to left. Her stomach knotted. She’d not had this sense of anxiousness in months and was surprised she felt it now. Dane stood by a white van, the back door open. The van gave her pause. She’d heard they were soundproof—the perfect place to put someone if you wanted to snatch them.
    Dane had shifted his gaze from her to the van’s interior. He started to pull out tools, totally relaxed.
    What had gotten into her today?
    She hurried down the stairs to the back of his van. Carpenter’s tools filled the neatly organized interior—hammers on the right, nails in labeled drawers, saws hanging from hooks. But what caught her attention was the condition of the tools. They were well used: the hammers nicked, the drop cloths spattered with paint and the circular saw’s handle worn. The wear and tear was tangible proof that Cambia was indeed a carpenter.
    Her spirits lifting, she brushed bangs out of her eyes. “What would you like for me to carry?”
    He handed her a drop cloth, eye protection and gloves as he hefted a large sledgehammer and crowbar out of the back. “This should be all we need to get started.” He locked the back of the van and tucked his keys in his jeans pocket. “After you.”
    She headed back up the stairs, through the main door and into the small room. “So do we just tear the wall down?”
    “I’ll cut the electricity to the room and then start removing the drywall. After that I’ll go for the studs and frame work.”
    His tall, broad form filled the doorway. It had been a long time since she’d looked at a man with desire. But unexpected warmth spread through her veins.
    “What do you want me to do with this?” she asked, holding up the drop cloth.
    He moved into the room past her to the wall that needed to be demolished. “Spread the cloth in the hallway to protect the hardwood floors. We’ll contain the mess as much as we can.”
    “Right.”
    “Where’s your fuse box, Kristen?”
    “Basement. Far right corner.”
    “Great. Be right back. Might want to shut off the computer if it feeds into this circuit.”
    “Oh, yeah, right.”
    She quickly shut down the