The Second Sister

“Don’t try to play games with me, Leigh. You’re out of your league.”

“Get out of here.”

“We aren’t finished yet. Don’t think I forgot how you made me look like a fool seven years ago.”

“Oh, please. You didn’t need any help from me.”

She hadn’t meant to say it out loud and she knew immediately that she’d gone too far. Nolan reached for her. Even as she dodged away, Gavin’s distinctive voice whipped through the clearing.

“I thought you understood what would happen if you ever touched her again, Ducort.”

Nolan pivoted in shock. “Jarret?”

Leigh exhaled in relief. The cavalry had arrived.

“Maybe you need a reminder,” Gavin added, his voice dangerously soft.

There was no swaggering bravado in the way he stepped forward. He wasn’t as big as Nolan, yet he appeared larger and far more intimidating. He seemed to glide into the clearing, dominating the space with easy assurance. Faded jeans and an open-necked shirt accentuated his tough, lean build. His hands swung loose at his sides, yet his casual air was far more daunting than any cocky pose.

Nolan wasn’t stupid. If it came to physical blows between the spoiled rich kid running to fat and the lean, once street-savvy bad boy of the county, there was little doubt of the outcome. Gavin would take him apart without even working up a sweat.

“I warned you once before. You should have listened. I never make idle threats, Ducort.”

Despite his casual tone, a lethal, raw energy flowed from Gavin. Nolan began backing away. He stopped when the back of his knees came up against the concrete bench that sat under the large maple tree.

Leigh was frightened by the leashed power she sensed so clearly in both men. Nolan’s cheeks deepened to a dark cherry red. He shot her a look of pure malice.

“If your pet goon lays a hand on me, I’ll sue you for every cent you inherited.”

Despite her shock and fear, she wanted to laugh at his posturing. “Pet goon?”

“I think he means me,” Gavin said without a trace of humor. “Since you plan to sue her, Ducort, I’ll give you one of my cards. I’m also her attorney.”

Gavin made no attempt to reach for his pocket. Nolan’s gaze darted from one to the other. His anger was as tangible as the waiting silence that had settled over the clearing. He settled for glaring at Leigh.

“I don’t know what your game is, bitch, but nobody screws with me.”

“I can understand that,” she muttered.

Raw fury started him in her direction. Gavin moved so fast Leigh didn’t have time to do more than gasp. The lawyer vanished in one beat of her heart, replaced by the street warrior Gavin had once been. He grabbed Nolan by his tailored, white linen shirtfront and spun him to one side, shoving him hard against the prickly, overgrown hedge.

“That’s going to cost you,” he promised.

Nolan squealed. A shadow speared the entrance to the clearing. Bram Myers stood framed in the opening. He was dressed all in black, from his sleeveless T-shirt to a stained pair of jeans. He appeared completely relaxed as he stood there blocking the only exit. Leigh would have thought him totally unconcerned if she hadn’t seen the expression in his midnight eyes.

“Problem, Gavin?” he asked lightly.

Gavin kept his gaze riveted on Nolan. He released the shirt with deliberate slowness before stepping back. “No problem. I was explaining some basic facts to Mr. Ducort.”

“I’ll have you on charges for assault and battery,” Nolan threatened. He straightened his shirt with unsteady fingers and shot Leigh a look that made her stomach contract.

“Now, what assault would that be?” Bram asked quietly. “You look pretty good for someone who’s been battered.”

Nolan sent him a look of impotent rage. “You’ll pay,” he sputtered. “You’ll all pay,”

“Ah. Now that sounded like a threat,” Bram said.

“The only one who’s going to do any paying around here is you, Ducort.”

As if he, too, worried Gavin might lose control, Bram stepped all the way into the circle. Leigh spoke quickly, hoping to diffuse some of the surging testosterone before someone got seriously hurt.

“Nolan was just leaving,” she said. “Weren’t you, Nolan?”

“Then why don’t I escort you to your car, Mr…. Ducort, was it?” Bram said. “I wouldn’t want you to trip and fall or anything on your way out. I think you’ve overstayed your welcome at Heartskeep.”

For a moment, Leigh thought Nolan would explode from the fury so plainly visible on his ruddy face. Without a word, he pushed past both men and stormed down the path, never once looking back.

Bram and Gavin shared a silent exchange. Bram nodded and turned to follow Nolan. Gavin focused his attention on her. Leigh only hoped the quaking turning her muscles to jelly wasn’t visible on the outside.

“Did he touch you?” Gavin demanded.

“N-no.”

Gavin’s unwavering scrutiny was chilling. This was a side of him she’d heard about but had never seen. Dark and intense, his anger was slow to fade. Where Nolan had blustered, Gavin projected a hard determination.

Leigh crossed her arms protectively over her stomach. Her knees felt absurdly weak and her stomach was queasy.

“Sit down,” he ordered.

The hands that guided her onto the unyielding bench were surprisingly tender. She’d forgotten he had such large hands. They were warm, with the long tapered fingers of a musician. Those hands had once roused her body to incredible heights, but now they soothed, lightly stroking her shoulder. Amazingly, his touch helped to dissipate the chills lifting the hairs on her bare arms.

“I’m all right,” she told him.

“I know you are.”

The warmth in his tone sent her pulse leaping. She shook her head, telling herself she was imagining things. Gavin wasn’t interested in her.

“Do you make a habit of rescuing women in distress?”

His gaze became shuttered. “Not generally, no.”

“What did you mean when you said you warned him once before?”

His eyes went flat and hard. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Leigh shook her head. Her mind whirled, slotting the pieces together. The picture that formed shocked her.

“You went after him seven years ago, didn’t you? Of course you did. That’s why you had cuts and scrapes on your knuckles when they arrested you. That’s why the police were so sure you were the one who hit poor Mr. Wickert.”