Free Kat Attalla Special Edition by Kat Attalla

thought. Her gaze darted around the ransacked room. Bile rose in her throat, leaving a foul taste in her mouth. A rattling at the front door brought her out of her stupor. Victoria struggled in earnest, clawing at her assailant, until finally, he shoved her away. She scraped her leg against the corner of the coffee table and landed in a heap on the floor. The thud of heavy steps faded away.
    The door crashed open, shaking the entire house. She pulled herself up to her knees. Erik stormed inside, followed closely by another man. The overhead light reflected off the silver-blue barrel of a gun.
    A painful lump wedged in her throat, threatening to choke her. Erik said something, but she couldn’t concentrate. Pain shot through her leg, and fear ricocheted through her body. Although her assailant made a fast escape, she couldn’t stop the tremors that racked her.
    “Are you all right, Tori?” Erik asked louder. She nodded.
    The two men chased after her attacker, and for a few moments she sat alone on the floor among the mess. Pieces of a Wedgwood vase she’d brought back from England littered the wooden floor. He’d tossed books from shelves, pulled reams of paper from drawers. Test papers, research documents, personal correspondences all jumbled together. The small glass bottle of essential oils must have fallen from her pocket. The potion seeped into the corner of her area rug, leaving a large stain and a powerful floral scent.
    She started to stack her books.
    “Don’t touch anything,” Erik called out. She jumped in fright. He joined her in the living room and offered her a hand up.
    A sharp pain shot along her shinbone. “Is he gone?”
    “Yeah. You’re safe now.”
    She didn’t feel safe. She felt violated. She’d never been so terrified in her life. Thank God Erik arrived when he did. She owed him a debt of gratitude she could never repay.
     
    * * * *
     
    Erik took in her frightened expression and shimmering eyes. Wrapping an arm around her waist for support, he led her to the kitchen, away from the destruction and the overpowering scents that made breathing difficult. She snuggled against his shoulder and held him with trembling arms. Since she wouldn’t loosen her vice-grip around his neck, he dropped into the rattan chair with her snuggled in his lap.
    A touch to her wrist told him her pulse still raced. Fear made the adrenaline pump. She sucked in large gulps of air in between her hiccups. At this rate, she would pass out.
    “Easy,” he whispered softly against her ear. “It’s over.”
    After a few shaky minutes, her breathing returned to normal.
    He silently cursed his stupidity. Despite the fact that he’d followed agency procedure, he still felt responsible for the outcome. He should have let Daniels follow her while he stayed and made sure the house remained secure. Although Becker’s gang wasn’t known for violence, Becker might have suspected Victoria of a double cross at the airport.
    “Feel better?” he asked.
    “A little. Should I call the police?”
    “Not just yet.” He ran a soothing hand along her shoulder. Her body convulsed with aftershocks. He wasn’t in much better shape. “Did he take anything, Tori?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t have anything valuable in that room.”
    “What about the disc?”
    She raised her head. “What disc?”
    “Becker’s disc.”
    Her eyebrows arched quizzically. “Who is Becker?”
    He searched her face. Not a spark of recognition. Could that ring of confusion be genuine innocence? “Try to relax for now.”
    For a while she remained wrapped in his embrace, allowing him to hold her, to touch her. Lucky the lousy son-of-a-bitch escaped when he did or he’d be dead right now.
    Erik cradled her closer, stroking her back until the trembling in her body began to subside. He’d never been one for offering comfort, but she trusted him enough to feel safe in his arms.
    “Who is Becker?” she asked again, her voice barely a