Earlier, she and that obnoxious Sophia had been here, cleaning the place—washing, scrubbing, vacuuming, even changing the bedding. Sophia had been in charge. Bossing her around. God, that woman could be a bitch when she wanted to be. Some of the time, she was actually easy to get along with, but cross her and you awakened a monster. And she was secretive. Willow had seen her with her sister when the sister had dropped her off at work one day, but Sophia never wanted to talk about her. Usually chatty, she just clammed up. A real Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. She was beautiful, of course, but other than that, Willow couldn’t fathom what James saw in her. Willow had said as much to Zena, which had probably been a mistake, because Zena was always running off her mouth and Zena knew that Willow was in love with James. Oh, well, soon the world would know.

It turned Willow’s stomach to be so subservient to Sophia, to allow Sophia to boss her around, but she told herself it was temporary. Willow just had to bide her time. Besides, she had a secret. She’d been in this house before. A few times. But always by herself. Always when James and the dog were away.

He’d never known.

She just wanted to spend a little time alone in James’s home, to fantasize what it would be like if she were his lover—no, more than that, if she were his wife. Even though he barely knew her, that would change, she would make certain of it.

And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t played out this fantasy before.

That will change, my love.

Except now there was another problem. She had to deal with not only Sophia, but Rebecca Travers as well. Willow had hoped that since Megan wasn’t around, James might finally notice her, but of course that had backfired. Sophia was all over him, and James had this odd fascination with Rebecca.

Willow frowned at that, felt bile rise up in her throat. Sophia had let it slip that James had once, fleetingly, dated Rebecca. Had he fucked her? Probably. Just like he was still doing with Sophia. It made Willow sick, but she reminded herself that Rebecca and Sophia were just passing fancies. Just like Megan. Once they too were out of the picture . . .

Scraaape.

Her heart leapt to her throat.

What the hell was that?

So close!

So damned close!

She froze.

Maybe she should leave . . .

Scraape!

Again, the horrid sound.

Her heart knocking wildly, she looked over her shoulder and—

Scraape!

Startled, she jumped, then noticed a branch moving against the panes, grating across the glass.

Oh. God.