The night air had grown cooler since they had arrived and Sam was glad Holt's arm lay across her shoulders. She felt protected as he guided her to his patrol car parked at the curb. After helping her inside he walked around to the driver's side and slid in behind the steering wheel. Her thoughts were chaotic and she tried to calm the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Fear that her stalker was back warred with her common sense which was telling her Holt would keep her safe.

Sam knew she could go to her aunt and uncle but Holt's earlier argument that they might get hurt if the stalker came after her again was logical. However, that was not the reason she was letting him take her home with him. Holt could just as easily be hurt by the stalker too but Sam realized she wanted to be with him. She needed to be with him as much as she needed to be able to rely on his strength and protection. She had gone it alone for so long she knew the fragile threads that were holding her together were slowly unraveling and she needed someone there to keep her from coming apart.

"So, can you talk about what happened?" Holt asked quietly beside her.

"Yes, though I haven't much." Sam wrapped a strand of auburn hair around her finger and twisted it distractedly. "I don't know what he looks like, he wore a stocking mask. I might recognize his voice but I was so scared I blocked out a lot. Sometimes I remember something new. Little things, like the color of his eyes and the way he moved."

Sam broke off. It was funny how the mind worked. During the months right after the attack she had remembered more and more detail but those memories had not all been blessings. Everything she could remember with regard to physical characteristics might eventually help the police but the things he had said to her in the dark of her bedroom and the feel of his hands on her body only added to her nightmares.

"Sorry," she apologized. Sam felt the tears surface in her eyes and brushed them hastily away. She could not afford to give in to weakness.

Holt reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "We will find him and stop him, Sam."

He pulled the car into a driveway and Sam realized they were in a residential part of town she had never seen before. It was a narrow street lined by older homes she guessed were built sometime in the nineteen thirties, craftsman-style with lots of wood and rock exteriors. With her overnight bag in his hand, Holt led her up the sidewalk to the front door. The house was flanked by tall trees with a wide porch and well-maintained yard. The neat, tidiness was impressive. Holt unlocked the door and leaned in to switch on the interior light.

The interior was impressive, too, with its dark oak furnishings and rich jewel toned fabrics. It was certainly not the bachelor pad Sam half-expected and she was inordinately pleased. This house was not just a place to hang his hat, it was a home and just another layer of the man she was finding out was multi-faceted.

"It's lovely," she complimented.

"I'm glad you like it. When I moved here I decided I wanted to make this town my home, not just a stopping off point on my way somewhere else. When the real estate agent showed me this place I knew I wanted it. Luckily, the previous owners had put a lot of hard work into restoring it."

He locked the front door behind them as he spoke and started down the central hallway. Holt led her to what she recognized right away as the master bedroom. His signature was everywhere, from the freshly cleaned uniforms still hanging in plastic on the closet door, to the boots standing under the window. He laid her bag on the bed and turned to face her.

"This is the only bedroom downstairs and since I don't want that much separation between us, I'll take the sofa in the living room." Holt explained. "There are fresh towels in the bathroom through that door. What time do you want me to wake you in the morning?"

Sam stood and stared at him a moment trying to absorb everything he said. The one thing that stood out was the fact he did not plan on sharing the bedroom with her. Unable to conceal her disappointment, Sam closed the distance between them until she was close enough to reach out and touch his arm.

"I usually get up at six and the bed looks large enough for two," she offered. His arm was warm but she felt the muscles beneath her hand tense.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sam."

"Why not?" Sam's voice communicated her bewilderment. She needed him in a way she had never needed anyone before. She wanted to feel safe and protected but most of all she wanted to forget all her fears and worries, if only for awhile. Sam knew Holt could make her forget. She wanted to get lost in him.

Holt ran a weary hand through his dark hair before drawing her slim body closer. "Don't think I don't want to make love to you, Sam, because there's nothing I want more, but not here, not now. You're vulnerable..." Holt raised an unsteady finger to her lips when she would have protested. "You're too vulnerable right now and when you let me make love to you, Sam, I want it to be for the right reason, not because you're scared and feeling alone."

Sam stood quietly and listened to every word he said. He was only partly right about her reasons for wanting him right here, right now, but she could not argue with his logic. He wanted her and that was the important thing. She could wait.

"Okay." Her voice was reserved but her smile told him she really was okay.

Holt moved away from her. "I'm going to set the alarm. If it goes off I want you to head for the bathroom and lock the door. I'll find you there." Holt moved to the bedroom door and paused. "It's late, try to get some sleep, Sam."

"Good-night, Holt. And thank you."

After Holt closed his bedroom door, he moved along the hallway to the living room. He gathered together a pillow and blanket before he set the house alarm. He double checked the doors and made sure all the windows were locked and the curtains drawn. Stripped down to his boxers, Holt lay back on the sofa and close