Within the span of a few seconds, she’d gone from postorgasmic bliss to sheer terror. Someone had fired a shot into the house. A shot that could have hurt Christopher. There was another crash of glass, and Elaina knew another round had been fired. But where? The first had obviously been fired into the nursery, but this one appeared to have come from the direction of the living room. In other words, the front of the house. The gunman wasn’t standing still. He was on the move. Or there was more than one. With the overhead lights off, she had to rely on the meager light filtering into the hall from the kitchen. It was literally the only interior light still left on. She checked the baby for any signs of an injury, but he was fine. Well, except for the fact that he was crying at the top of his lungs.
