She fought a stab of anxiety and moved closer. She sensed his tentativeness, and knew if she resisted, he’d back off. That was good. But she didn’t want to resist. She wanted to be held, to feel protected, to relax and let go, and for once, just once, feel that she didn’t have to be alone all the time, didn’t have to be so completely self-contained and able to handle everything on her own, do everything on her own. Just once to feel that she could have someone to share with. Just once.

Her anxiety level surged as he bent his head to hers, but she didn’t pull away.

It’s all right… it’s going to be all right…

Their lips met and his were soft and warm, and the wine was warm within her, and yes, it was going to be all right…

But then his arms encircled her and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She felt trapped, and she had to get away, get free, get some air.

She tore her lips from him, got her hands between them, and pushed.

“Let me go!”

Will released her and backed away, his expression stunned. “Alicia—what’s—?”

“Get away!”

He held up his hands and backed up another step. “I am away. Look.”

Panic—wild, formless, constricting, suffocating, unyielding to reason—choked her, and she wanted to run, but she couldn’t, she lived here, so he had to get out. Part of her cried, No, let him stay! but a larger, fiercer, stronger part was in control.

“I’m sorry, Will,” she said, forcing her voice to stay calm. Still, the words seemed to rattle in her throat. “I just can’t… I can’t do this right now. Okay?”

He looked so confused. “Okay. Sure. I just thought… is it me?”

“No… yes…” I’m babbling. “I just can’t explain it now.” Not now, not ever. “Would you mind if we just call it a night? Please?”

She was so embarrassed she wanted to cry.

“Yeah. Sure.” He reached out to touch her arm but withdrew it before contact. “I’ll call you,” he said, retreating into the hall. “To see if you’re all right.”

Alicia nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

And then she closed the door. Finally,’ the panic faded. She leaned against the door and sobbed.

I’m out of control, she thought.

She’d almost lost it in Haffner’s conference room this morning, and now she’d done the same with Will.

She’d never done too well with men, but this was over the top.

What’s happening to me?

The house… it had to be the house. Nothing had been right since that man and his house had forced their way back into her life. She’d tried to burn it, and tomorrow night she was going to have to go back there… inside…

That was the problem: Going back…