It took a moment for Tristan's eyes to adjust to the darkened room. He heard her, before he spotted her. Her shape was a shadow against the little bit of streetlight that slipped in from behind the blinds. What the hell? He wasn't going to get near her. For all he knew she was armed and ready to strike. He had read about people who had been stabbed to death when they confronted a burglar. Or perhaps she was part of a group, only here to distract them, while her comrades were downstairs, taking everything of value.

Pippa was on the floor, crawling up to her knees. She was in a vulnerable position there. Tristan stretched his arm in her direction. "Pippa, come behind me!" he ordered. And turning to the other woman he ordered: "Leave!"