Something had woken him. He listened for a moment. Nothing. And then there it was again. Pounding. Too tired and groggy to care who was at the door at four in the morning--according to the alarm clock on the nightstand--he rolled over, covered his head with the feather pillow and closed his eyes. And then the doorbell sounded, not once but four times in a row. “Dammit!” Griffin threw the covers back, rolled out of bed and headed for the hall when he realized he was buck naked. He padded back to his room, shoved his legs in a pair of blue jeans and tugged the zipper up as he made his way to the front door. The ceramic tile entry was cool on his bare feet, alerting his senses like a cup of strong, black coffee. Through the side panel window he spotted the shadow of a woman standing on his front porch. He flicked on the porch light. Hollin Pierce stared back at him, her eyes wide and questioning. He hesitated a moment before unlocking and opening the door.
