Gavin Jarret’s low, gravelly voice sent her heart rate tap-dancing.

He was the last person she’d expected to see here.

“Don’t tell me you’re in trouble again?” she blurted out.

The corners of his mouth rose slightly. “I’m on the other side of the desk now. You did tell me to make something of myself, remember?”

Heat flamed in her cheeks. “You’re a lawyer?” The word didn’t make sense. Though he dressed like a lawyer, the bad boy of the county still lingered in his relaxed, confident pose. His eyes pinned her where she sat.

“You and I will need to work closely together. Will you be all right with that?”

Her heartbeat stuttered again. She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Of course. Will you?”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Take a very well-deserved break from Thanksgiving preparations and rejuvenate yourself with Harlequin Intrigue’s tempting offerings this month!

To start off the festivities, Harper Allen brings you Covert Cowboy—the next riveting installment of COLORADO CONFIDENTIAL. Watch the sparks fly when a Native American secret agent teams up with the headstrong mother of his unborn child to catch a slippery criminal. Looking to live on the edge? Then enter the dark and somber HEARTSKEEP estate—with caution!—when Dani Sinclair brings you The Second Sister—the next book in her gothic trilogy.

The thrills don’t stop there! His Mysterious Ways pairs a ruthless mercenary with a secretive seductress as they ward off evil forces. Don’t miss this new series in Amanda Stevens’s extraordinary QUANTUM MEN books. Join Mallory Kane for an action-packed story about a heroine who must turn to a tough-hearted FBI operative when she’s targeted by a stalker in Bodyguard/Husband.

A homecoming unveils a deadly conspiracy in Unmarked Man by Darlene Scalera—the latest offering in our new theme promotion BACHELORS AT LARGE. And finally this month, ’tis the season for some spine-tingling suspense in The Christmas Target by Charlotte Douglas when a sexy cowboy cop must ride to the rescue as a twisted Santa sets his sights on a beautiful businesswoman.

So gather your loved ones all around and warm up by the fire with some steamy romantic suspense!

Enjoy,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

The Second Sister
Dani Sinclair

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Natashya Wilson, who challenges me to do the impossible,

and is nearly always right, darn it.

Many thanks.

For Roger, who always listens. I love you.

And for Chip and Dan, who ignore the insanity

and get me through the graphics. You guys are terrific.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

An avid reader, Dani Sinclair didn’t discover romance novels until her mother lent her one when she had come for a visit. Dani’s been hooked on the genre ever since. But she didn’t take up writing seriously until her two sons were grown. Since the premiere of Mystery Baby for Harlequin Intrigue in 1996, Dani has kept her computer busy. Her third novel, Better Watch Out, was a RITA® Award finalist in 1998. Dani lives outside Washington, D.C., a place she’s found to be a great source for both intrigue and humor!

You can write to her in care of the Harlequin Reader Service.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Dennison Hart—He made sure Heartskeep stayed in the family. He never anticipated that no one would want the place.

Amy Hart Thomas—She disappeared seven years ago without a trace.

Hayley Hart Thomas—As Leigh’s twin and the oldest child, Heartskeep should have belonged to her.

Leigh Hart Thomas—She thought she’d put the past behind her, until she returned to Heartskeep and discovered the past refused to stay buried.

Marcus Thomas—His evil reaches beyond the grave.

Eden Voxx Thomas—Marcus’s widow knows more than she’ll admit.

Jacob Voxx—Does being Eden’s son mean he’s out to cause trouble?

Gavin Jarret—The former bad boy of the county is now the estate’s lawyer.

Bram Myers—His heart belongs to Hayley, and keeping her from harm is his goal.

Nolan Ducort III—He has a secret to keep and a score to settle.

Martin Pepperton—This member of the prominent Pepperton family was stomped to death by one of his own horses—after he was shot.

Keith Earlwood—He always liked hanging with the rich and famous.

George and Emily Walken—Gavin’s foster parents have been friends and neighbors of Heartskeep for years.

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Welcome back to Heartskeep. The somber estate has only just begun to yield its many secrets. The doorway to the past is open now, and anything can happen.

Seven years ago, tough guy Gavin Jarret cultivated his dark reputation to keep people at a distance. He never backed down, and made it a point to never let anyone close enough to matter. Until a sultry, summer night when he offered a tempting seductress a ride on the back of his motorcycle, and changed both their lives forever.

Leigh Thomas is the quiet twin, forever in her sister’s shadow. Her one attempt to break that mold ended in disaster—and a night she could never forget. She thought she’d put the past behind her, but fate and Heartskeep have other plans.

Happy reading!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One

Seven years ago

Leigh Thomas gulped the soda her date handed her, looking for a way out. She didn’t know a soul in the noisy crowd and the live rock band prevented conversation even if she’d found someone interesting to talk with. College age and older, everyone seemed to be drinking, openly using drugs and making out. The beer she’d managed to force down was threatening to make an ignoble return and suddenly, her flashy new image seemed downright stupid.

She might look like part of this crowd tonight, but despite the fact that she had raided her identical twin sister’s more daring wardrobe for this outfit, inside Leigh beat the heart of a fairly naive seventeen-year-old. She should never have gone out with Nolan Ducort III.

A party at the elite Pepperton estate had sounded so enticing. The perfect way to change her mousy image. Of course, if Leigh’s mother had still been alive, she would have warned Leigh that Martin Pepperton’s family was out of the country, and that Nolan, Martin and their buddy, Keith Earlwood, all had questionable reputations. But Amy Thomas wasn’t there to warn her, and Leigh hadn’t listened to her sister.

Their mother’s disappearance a few months ago, coming only months after the unexpected death of Leigh’s beloved grandfather, was still tearing Leigh apart. Amy Hart Thomas hadn’t voluntarily vanished right before Leigh’s high school graduation. Their mother was dead. They knew it, they simply couldn’t prove it.

The police tended to agree, but they believed Amy had been the victim of a robbery gone bad. She’d withdrawn a surprising amount of cash for a trip to New York City when she generally used credit cards for everything. Officers were quick to point out that Amy’s fondness for wearing expensive jewelry to complement her designer clothing was something any thief would notice right away. Even her expensive luxury car marked her as a potential target.

Only, Amy Thomas was no fool. She’d grown up wealthy. She knew how to protect herself. Besides, a robbery gone bad didn’t explain why neither her car nor her body had been found. And contrary to the local police chief’s suggestion, there was absolutely no way their mother had run off with a secret lover. The idea was ludicrous.

Leigh took another sip of the soda. Nolan grinned at her and ran his hand possessively down her arm. Leigh shivered. His touch repulsed her. Definitely, going out with Nolan had been a bad mistake. She’d have been better off at home in her room with her customary book in hand, reining in her all-too-vivid imagination. The family estate of Heartskeep was large enough that she would have had no trouble avoiding her father tonight. She’d had years of practice, after all.

But she’d been so tired of thinking and wondering—so tired of stifling sobs for the mother she missed so much. Going out, being with new people, had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Nolan was wealthy and model handsome. His sporty new convertible was the talk of everyone she knew. Even Leigh’s sister, Hayley, had been green with envy when he’d singled Leigh out after they were introduced. Being an identical twin, Leigh was used to guys flocking around her out of curiosity, but it was Hayley they were generally drawn to. Hayley knew how to flirt and tease. Outgoing, friendly and smart, her sister wasn’t intimidated by anything. Everyone always said Leigh was the quiet twin, perfectly content to let her “older” sister take the lead in most things. It was a real coup to have someone more interested in her than in Hayley. Her sister hadn’t been able to conceal her surprise or her disappointment. Hayley had really liked Nolan’s car. She had been quick to point out that Nolan was older and more worldly than other guys Leigh had dated. Which, of course, had made going with him tonight a given.

Now, Leigh sincerely wished she had listened to her sister and her own instincts. She was starting to feel dizzy and strange. Must be the effects of that beer she’d forced herself to drink. All she wanted now was to get out of this house and away from this noisy party. She didn’t like the way Nolan and his two friends kept looking at her.

Hayley would have known exactly how to handle the situation. No—Hayley would never have let herself be placed in this situation. Leigh was out of her depth and sinking fast.

When a boisterous group of people approached, Leigh seized the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. Outside, the humid night air didn’t help the muzzy sensation buzzing inside her head. She felt strange, as if she was melting from the inside out. From one beer? That and the flat-tasting soda were the only things she’d had. Maybe if she’d eaten something today she wouldn’t feel so strange. Reaching out a hand for a nearby tree, she tried to shake off the weird sensations.

“You okay?”

A dark shape detached itself from the side of a parked pickup truck nearby. The spark from a cigarette was ground beneath a large booted foot.

Her heart stopped, then jumped to vigorous life as her gaze traveled up the tight jeans, across the flat abdomen clearly visible beneath the open shirt, to reach his face, carved from the shadows. She knew his eyes were deep gray, with a penetrating stare that unnerved some people. Leigh had always found it incredibly sexy. His wavy dark hair was thick and perpetually in need of a trim—as untamable as the man himself.

She was face-to-face with her own private fantasy come true. Gavin Jarret, bad boy of the county, stood close enough that by simply extending her hand, she could slide her fingers over the hard, flat planes of the exposed skin on his chest.

Tempting.

Very tempting.

Which only went to prove how muddled her thinking had become. Gavin was no boy. He was five years older than her and carried himself with a dangerous air of sensuality that had nothing to do with money, clothes or cars. If this had been the era of the Wild West, he’d have a gun strapped on one lean hip and a hat with the brim pulled low over his forehead. He wasn’t cocky. He didn’t need to be. He moved with the easy assurance of a man who had no need to prove anything to anyone, but wouldn’t back down from a challenge.

Gavin had starred in many of Leigh’s wishful dreams since she’d first glimpsed him working at Wickert’s gas station in town. Rumor had it he’d been arrested, thrown out of several schools, and that he kissed like nobody’s business. She could believe the latter. His mouth fascinated her. Everything about Gavin fascinated her.

He’d been one of the many foster youths her neighbors, Emily and George Walken, had taken on. Everyone told them it was a mistake. Gavin was a loner who liked it that way. Whenever there was trouble, the police came knocking on his door first. But like so many others the Walkens had helped, Gavin had settled down under their guidance. Now he used their place as his home base when he wasn’t away at college.

“Heat getting to you?” he asked.

The slow glide of his words ignited a tingling flame low in her belly. His gaze seemed to linger on her cleavage and the daringly bared expanse of midriff over the jeans that just barely covered her navel. She’d regretted the choice almost immediately after leaving her room earlier that night, but had decided to brazen the situation out. She’d felt naked ever since—especially when Nolan had gazed at her with a predator’s hunger.

Funny, but Gavin’s appreciative gaze had just the opposite effect. It stirred something to life inside her, something daring and exciting and strange. Tipping her head to one side, she smiled up at him.

“It’s terribly hot inside.”

He proffered an open bottle of beer. She’d been so focused on the rest of him, she hadn’t even noticed his hands. They were big, solid hands, with long, tapered fingers.

“Want a sip?”

Her heart fluttered madly. His voice was deep and gravelly. Sexy, like the rest of him. “Sure. Thanks.”

Their hands touched.

Hot and wild, a surge of energy flowed through her. Leigh tried not to shiver at that contact. The pads of his fingers were rough and callused from working at the garage, not baby soft like Nolan’s.

Taking the bottle, she put her mouth where his had been. The sensation was deliciously naughty. From somewhere came the courage to look him in the eye as she took a long swallow. The beer trickled down her dry throat, icy cold.

She sensed approval as his gaze slipped away to travel the length of her throat, then lingered on the swell of her breasts. Her nipples tightened along with the rest of her. A prickly restlessness enveloped her.

The moon skittered behind a wispy cloud, plunging his features into deeper shadow. As she handed him back the bottle, she dared a tiny caress over his knuckles.

Gavin studied her with dark, unfathomable eyes. With deliberate slowness, he raised the neck of the bottle and covered its mouth with his lips. Tilting the neck back, he took a long, slow drink.

Leigh couldn’t tear her gaze away. She followed the path of the liquid down his throat, feeling as if that mouth was on her rather than on the bottle in his hand.

His eyes stared deeply into hers. “Want to take a ride?”

He gestured toward a sleek black motorcycle waiting in the shadows beside the pickup truck.

Her body hummed with energy. The prickling sensation centered itself between her legs, charging her with unbearable excitement. Her fantasy was coming to life. Did she have the nerve to see it through?

She strove to mimic her sister’s easy tone, smiling with false confidence. “Sure. Why not?”

“I don’t have an extra helmet,” he cautioned. “That fancy hairdo of yours is going to get messed.”

“Not if I take it down first.”

The brazen words seemed to have a life of their own. So did her hands as they reached for the clip holding the carefully styled mass of hair on top of her head. His sensual hunger was tangible, bonding them together in the night. He watched every motion through heavy-lidded eyes.

Freed, the golden-brown mass spilled over her shoulders and down her back. Her fingers threaded the strands as he watched. She trembled when his hand came up, reaching out to lift a section and rub it between those long callused fingers. His eyes went darker still, with unmistakable desire.

Leigh couldn’t breathe.

“Come on,” he said abruptly.

She had never been on a motorcycle in her life. Amazingly, she slid behind him as though she’d been doing it all her life.

“Hold on to me,” he told her.

The buzzing in her head was almost welcome as she wrapped her arms around his trim waist. The tingly feeling became a burning ache of need. They took off with a deafening roar.

Hair whipped around her face, tossing streamers behind as they raced along the twisty road. Her fingers tightened spasmodically around him, but she quickly found the rhythm of moving with his body and the bike. Wind whistled in her ears as trees rushed past. Her fingers sought a better grip, brushing his zipper. He was aroused.

Part of her registered that fact in shock, but the shock was quickly overwhelmed by a yearning she had never experienced before. Tentatively, her fingers traced that bulge, feeling it swell and pulse.

A tiny core of sanity screamed in alarm. Her body no longer listened. It was as if she was acting under dictates she had no control over. She pressed an openmouthed kiss against the shirt on his back. The bike swerved slightly as he reacted.

Gavin steered them down a side road. More of a path, really. She had no idea where they were. She didn’t care. Touching him had become a drug of liberation.

They tore up the narrow dirt road, raising a plume of dust around them. Leigh closed her eyes. She slid her hands wantonly over his bare skin. Nothing had ever felt this incredible. He was hard planes and supple skin and she was breathing fast and shallow when he pulled the bike into a copse of trees and stopped. He came off the bike in a smooth motion, then whisked her off before she knew what he was doing. She stood on legs of rubber as he crushed her against his body. His mouth sought hers in a kiss that demanded a total response.

And she gave it, kissing him back with a fervor that astonished the tiny portion of her brain still functioning. She felt branded as his tongue plunged into her mouth, mimicking an action her body seemed to crave. He tasted of cigarettes and beer, with a subtle hint of peppermint, of all things.

It took her several seconds to realize tiny, animal sounds of need were issuing from her throat. She couldn’t get enough of the feel and taste of him. She wanted more. Her body seemed to be catapulting her toward some precipice, demanding that she hurry.

She uttered a small cry of protest when he pulled back. His eyes gleamed, dark and hot and wild like the night. His teeth glinted in the dancing moonlight as he smiled.

“Slow down, baby, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

But she couldn’t slow down. She wanted to scream at him to hurry. Yet the only sound she seemed capable of making was a ridiculous, yearning whimper. He yanked a blanket from his saddlebag and spread it in the clearing. Her brain felt muzzy and disoriented, yet the incredible need continued to build inside her, overwhelming conscious thought.

“You’re going to burn me alive, looking at me like that.”

Yes! Exactly! She was burning with a need only he could satisfy. “Hurry. Please.”

He grinned wickedly. “I intend to do both.”

His mouth claimed hers in a hot, wet duel as he drew them down on the thin blanket. Every fiber of her was on fire. Grass pricked at her skin through the thin material, acting as yet another spur to the incredible tension stretching inside her.

Leigh never felt his deft fingers bare her breasts to the night sky. She was lost in a tidal wave of sensations that pushed her ever closer to the waiting precipice. Then his mouth closed over one nipple. She free-fell in shudders of exhilaration.

Dimly, she heard his sound of satisfaction. “Sing for me, baby.”

She should have been mortified to know he watched her lose control. But he gave her no time to recover. Using that incredibly talented mouth, he set about igniting the fire all over again. Her mouth, the sensitive skin of her throat, nibbling on an earlobe until she quivered. With a low sound of satisfaction, he set a new path with his lips, placing light kisses along her throat, her collarbone, her breast, until he could draw the nipple deeply into his mouth. Her body arched in supplication.

A tiny kernel of sanity watched in stunned amazement as she went completely wild, tearing at his clothing, covering his skin with kisses and tiny nips that elicited surprise and a few startled groans of pleasure. Somehow they were both nude. It was shocking, yet intensely exciting. His lips forged a new path down her tummy and lower still. He paused, his breath stirring the hairs at the junction of her legs, making her moan in anticipation. Then he settled there, his mouth doing incredibly naughty things she’d only read about, until now.

He chuckled as her hands strained to touch him, this incredible, fascinating shadowy shape in the dark. He assumed the role of teacher as he showed her untutored body how to please them both. The wild clamoring filled her once more and she wondered if she’d gone mad.

Finally, he stretched out over her. Butter soft, yet uncompromisingly hard. Their sweat-slicked skin came together and he claimed her with one hard thrust. He swallowed her shocked cry with his mouth. The stab of pain was almost immediately lost in the extraordinary sense of fullness.

She thought she heard him swear, but when she began to move against him, he shuddered and began to move as well, withdrawing, almost completely, only to surge against her once more, faster, harder, perfect.

Leigh was beyond words, beyond thought. She clenched around him, demanding more insistently as she pushed her body against his. With a curse and a groan, he began to move, harder, faster, deeper. The pleasure returned, driving her toward some incredible goal until the world exploded in a pleasure beyond description.

“WAKE UP. Damn it, Hayley, wake up.”

Confused, her mind tried to make sense of the masculine voice and the hand shaking her none too gently.

“I’m Leigh,” she muttered, unable to lift her heavy eyelids. The shaking sensation stopped. She felt the hard rocky ground at her back. Vaguely, she wondered if she’d ever stop trembling.

Gavin cursed again. She should say something, but it was far too difficult to battle the fatigue pressing shut her eyes.

Something wet covered her face. She batted uselessly at the cloth, but hands pinned her arms over her head to the blanket. She blinked as the cloth fell away, trying to make out his features in the dark.

“That’s it. Snap out of it. How much did you have to drink?”

The rough demand reached past the haze. “One. Beer.”

He swore viciously. “Are you lying?”

“Never. Lie. So tired.”

“You’re drugged.”

The words ripped at the curtain fogging her mind. “No.”

“Hell, yes,” he said grimly. “Open your eyes and look at me!”

“Stop swearing!” She blinked open blurry eyes, battling the residual haze shrouding her brain. Gavin was holding her down. She tried to remember why that was all wrong.

“That’s it, fight back.” One hand let her go. Her head lolled to the side. It was so hard to keep her eyes open. His hand slid beneath the tangle of her hair, cupping the back of her head. The tingling sensations were starting all over. There was something incredibly sensual in the touch of that large hand against her scalp.

“Sit up, come on. That’s it. Open your eyes, Leigh.”

She struggled to obey. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. “Fantasy man,” she whispered.

Gavin cursed. “We’ll see how you feel about that tomorrow. Here, swallow this.”

A bottle of liquid was thrust to her lips. It clicked against her teeth, but he gave her no chance to protest. Warm water dribbled down her chin, but some of the fluid made it down her parched throat. The water had a chemical taste, like bottled water that had been sitting in a hot car too long. She choked. Her stomach roiled in protest. Feebly, she tried to push aside his hand.

“Drink some more.”

“I’m going to be sick.”

“That’s the idea. We need to get that drug out of your system.”

To her acute mortification, he held her while her stomach made good on the threat. He continued holding her gently even after she was reduced to dry heaves. Almost tenderly, he pulled aside the heavy mass of her hair and rubbed her bare back as if she were a child.

Weak and spent, she let him. Desperately, her brain tried to make sense of it all.

“Take another sip.”

“I’ll throw up again.”

“Swish it around in your mouth and spit it out. Don’t swallow it. I know it’s warm, but it’s the only water I have with me.”

She obeyed, totally ashamed as memory played back the things they’d done. He let her go and fished in his pocket. She heard the crinkle of paper as Gavin unwrapped something and handed it to her.

“It’s okay. It’s a peppermint hard candy. It will take the taste out of your mouth.”

His expression was so sweet she wanted to cry. The candy had an odd taste on her tongue.

“Think you can get back on the bike?”

“Bike?”

Memory trickled past. A wild ride. Wanton need. Her breasts were bare, the nipples hard, but tender and sore. The rest of her body was equally bare. Moonlight peered through the trees overhead to dapple her skin. She focused on his face, horror growing as images ghosted through her mind.

“Did we…? Were we…?”

His features hardened, making her flinch.

“Were we intimate? Oh, yeah, baby. We were as intimate as it gets.”

His finger lightly traced her collarbone. She had a memory of his lips doing the same. Leigh trembled—hard.

“How much do you remember?”

The knot that formed in her stomach threatened to turn her inside out.

“I don’t… I’m not sure.”

Lifting her chin, Gavin forced her to meet his eyes.

“Tell me you weren’t a virgin.”

She lost the battle with her stomach once more. He turned her head in time as her insides twisted in an attempt to escape. Dry heaves wracked her. Gavin swore, but he held her until she finally sagged against his chest, utterly spent. His shirt smelled of cigarette smoke and fabric softener. That he was fully dressed while she was naked made it all the worse somehow. His hands were gentle as he wiped her face, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Let’s get you dressed.”

She tried, but her fingers were useless. He skipped the bra and panties and helped her with her sister’s blouse.

“Can you stand?”

She wasn’t sure. Gavin didn’t give her a choice. Her body still vibrated in reaction to his touch as he slid the jeans back up her legs. Her stomach fluttered helplessly at the feel of his fingers trying to fasten the snap. She stepped into her brand-new deck shoes while he held her so that she didn’t fall over. Tugging her toward the large black motorcycle, he lifted her up, settling her in place.

“Hold on to me.”

A flashback of her hands roaming his bare skin hit her with electric force. Leigh closed her eyes, fighting tears of shame. She didn’t open them until the bike stopped. Helplessly, she gazed at the dark building of Wickert’s garage.

“What are we doing here?”

“I have a key and I know the alarm system. I thought you’d want to clean up before I took you home.”

Home. She had no home. Not anymore. Only an empty house where people waited without hope.

Her stomach knotted. She wanted to cry. His features were harsh. She swallowed her tears, feeling mortified and ashamed.

She barely recognized herself in the mirror of the ladies’ room. Her hair hung about her face in tangled strands. Her eyes were huge dark pits against the ghostly white pallor of her skin. Streaks of mascara gave her a raccoon appearance, and there was more than one dark bruise forming on the skin of her neck. Leigh remembered his mouth there and whimpered. The temperature could have been below freezing instead of the high seventies she knew it to be even at this hour of the night.

Holding the comb he’d thrust into her hand after unlocking the door, she sank onto the dirty tile floor and sobbed until there were no tears left. Shame paralyzed her. How could she go back out there and face him?

He claimed she’d been drugged, but that didn’t matter. Neither did the fact that she’d had a crush on him since she was fifteen. What mattered was that she’d given her virginity to a man who couldn’t even tell her apart from her sister.

Given? She’d practically demanded that he take her.

And that was more demeaning than all the rest.

His knock on the door brought her scrambling to her feet. She brushed at her tear-stained face.

“Are you okay in there?”

“Yes.” It came out as a croak of sound. Her voice was thick from crying. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Do you need anything?”

Her mother. She would have given anything she possessed to have her mother here beside her right this minute.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she repeated.

Leigh waited until she heard him move away from the door. Splashing water on her face, she used the rough paper towels to rub fiercely at her face, trying to remove all traces of her smeared makeup. Her sister’s blouse was buttoned all wrong and her fingers still didn’t want to cooperate, but finally, she managed that small task. Trying to tame her hair with his comb proved impossible.

She tried not to think about the marks on her skin or the puffy appearance of her lips, or the strange, small ache between her legs and elsewhere. She could smell him on her skin, and still feel him pulsing inside her. And the shaking started again in earnest, because she still wanted him. It was all she could do to pull herself together and exit the ladies’ room.

Gavin came away from the dirty wall with a primitive grace she still found compelling. Worse, a part of her longed for him to pull her into his arms and hold her. She needed to hear that things were going to be okay, that he wasn’t disgusted with her. But he made no move to touch her and his stern expression was angry.

With her?

“Come into the office. I made some tea.”

“Tea?” There was a surreal feel to everything.

“Mrs. Walken claims tea with sugar is good for shock. I suspect we both need a cup. Besides, the coffeemaker’s broken again, so it’s tea or soda.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Drink it anyway.”

She was so cold inside, she didn’t think even a gallon of hot tea would help. She’d probably just embarrass herself further by vomiting it right back up. Leigh looked quickly away from the cookies he’d bought from the vending machine.

“Try to eat one. We need to give your system something to absorb besides the drug.”

A protest formed in her head, but she blocked the words before they could slip past. Sipping tea and nibbling on a cookie gave her something to do, a focus other than looking at him.

“What were you doing at that party?”

Leigh cringed. “I went with Nolan.”

“Ducort?” he asked in obvious disbelief. “What’s a kid like you doing with a creep like that?”

Forcing herself to meet his eyes she said simply, “He asked me out.”

Gavin muttered something under his breath. A pulse in his neck began to throb. He looked as if he wanted to hit someone. She cringed. Instantly, his features transformed, softening.

“Listen to me, Leigh, I’m sorrier than I can say about what happened. I swear I didn’t recognize you at first or I would have taken you straight home.”

She swallowed the hurt, refusing to cry in front of him. The old desk chair she’d sat down on squeaked in protest. “Thanks a lot,” she managed to say.

Gavin didn’t seem to hear her. “You are not to blame. Do you understa—”

Leigh stood so fast that the cookies scattered across the desktop. “Don’t you dare patronize me. I’m not twelve.”

“At least tell me I didn’t seduce a minor.”

“It was consensual sex, not seduction,” she told him, shaking from head to toe.

“You were drugged,” he said bluntly. “And you were a virgin.”

“Well, I don’t have to worry about that problem anymore, now, do I?”

Headlights bathed the interior of the gas station. A car was pulling up out front.

“Your sister’s here.”

Horrified, she stared at him. “You called my house?”

“No, I called the Walkens. I wanted advice before we go to the police.”

She gaped at him. “We aren’t going to the police!”

“You were drugged. Don’t you understand? Ducort slipped something in your drink. He intended to rape you. Only, I got to you first,” he added grimly.

For a second she thought she would pass out. Dimly, she heard him opening the door at her back.

“Bad luck for you, huh?” she spit at him. A clamoring anger filled her. “Well, don’t give it another thought. I sure don’t plan to. I’m not going to the police. But if either one of you ever comes near me again, I’ll make you rue the day you were born.”

Gavin stepped aside. Hayley and the Walkens stood in the doorway with mingled expressions of shock and concern. Leigh’s humiliation was complete.

Pivoting, she held her tears in check with fierce effort as she gazed at the man she had dreamed about for so long.

“I will never, ever forgive you for this.”

EIGHTEEN HOURS LATER, Gavin sat in jail contemplating his bruised knuckles and wondering why he’d felt obligated to play the hero. All he had to do was tell the police the truth—and ruin Leigh’s reputation completely.

Besides, what was the point? The cops thought they already knew the truth. An anonymous tip put his bike outside his employer’s house last night. The house had been burgled. Old man Wickert had been struck a couple of times, tied up, then left there to suffer a heart attack. If he died, the cops would add murder to the charge, and Gavin knew the police chief was just itching to do exactly that.

Gavin had been allowed one phone call. He’d used it to call George Walken. He’d elicited a reluctant promise from the man to keep Leigh out of this no matter what. He’d pointed out that telling the truth would only get him in deeper. The cops would claim Gavin had given her the drug and there was no point in dragging her name through the mud. He’d told George’s attorney, Ira Rosencroft, the same thing.

Gavin opened his eyes when his cell door suddenly clanged open. A fresh-faced officer not much older than he was took a step back and waited.

“Let’s go, Jarret.”

“Go where?”

“You need to sign for your things. You’re being released.”

“Why?”

“You like it here so much you want to stay?”

“Did Mr. Wickert regain consciousness?”

Hope filled him. The old man had been a demanding boss, as crotchety as a bear coming out of hibernation. He’d turned grumbling into an art form, but he’d given Gavin a job and a chance when no one else would, and over time, the two of them had come to like and respect each other.

The cop shook his head. “He died about an hour ago.”

“Damn.”

Their eyes met in shared sympathy. Gavin swallowed his grief. “So, why are you letting me go?”

“Your alibi came in. You know, you could have saved us all a lot of work if you’d just told us where you were last night.”

George had promised him! So had the attorney. Gavin scrawled his name on the paper he was handed and stuffed his nearly empty wallet into his back pocket. Livid that one of them had betrayed him, he started walking away. The interrogation-room door swung open.

The police chief stood in the doorway, glaring at a slim figure sitting on the hard wooden chair. She stared back with wide, unblinking eyes.

“You should reconsider,” Chief Crossley growled.

Leigh Thomas rose with the grace of a queen. Her long, golden-brown hair swung halfway down her back. She faced the man with a composure few could have matched.

“No, you should reconsider.” She spoke with quiet force. “I know you don’t like me and my sister, and you don’t like Gavin or the Walkens, but if you let that stand in your way, you won’t solve this murder, either. Gavin was with me last night, and I’ll swear to that in court. There is nothing you can say or do that will change that simple truth.”

She stared him in the eye without flinching. A slip of a girl really, yet she faced that six-foot-five-inch pompous ass with a dignity that shrunk him right down to size.

“You listen to me, girl. If we find one piece of evidence to link Jarret to that crime, I’ll have you up on an accessory to murder charge so fast it will make your head swim.”

“No. You won’t. You’d have to fabricate evidence, and you may be incompetent, but I don’t think you’re dishonest.”

“Get her out of here,” the chief snarled, turning dark angry red. Pivoting, he spied Gavin. “Get them both out of my sight,” he told the young cop standing silently to one side.

Gavin fell into pace beside Leigh. She wouldn’t look at him as they walked outside. Her chin was up, her shoulders back, and she stared straight ahead as she moved. She flinched when he touched her shoulder, and his gut tightened in pain.

“Why did you come here?” he demanded. “I told that lawyer and the Walkens to leave you out of this!”

“They don’t even know I’m here,” she told his shirtfront.

He needed to see her eyes, to know what she was thinking. Did she hate him for what had happened last night?

“Then, why come here today?”

She didn’t raise her head. “Because you were with me when the robbery happened.”

Gavin swore. “Precisely. There wasn’t any evidence against me, just some anonymous phone call. All I had to do was sit tight and they would have released me sooner or later. Don’t you realize what you’ve done to your reputation by coming here?”

That brought her pointed little chin up. She faced him squarely without a flicker of emotion.

“Enhanced it or ruined it depending on who you talk to.” Her shoulders rose and fell. “Want to know how much I don’t care? If I hadn’t come forward, the police would have stopped looking for the real criminal, just like they stopped looking for my mother. Mr. Wickert was a nice old man. He deserves better. Now, take your hand off me before I kick you in the shins.”

Gavin dropped his hand, still trying to read her expression without success. “Are you okay? I mean after last night—”

“After last night, you owe me, right?”

Surprised, he managed a nod. Beyond her, he saw her sister running up the sidewalk toward them.

“If you owe me, then do us both a favor, Gavin. Grow up. Make something of yourself. That bad-boy reputation could have cost you a prison term just now. And you made Mrs. Walken cry. She deserves better, too.”

The words lashed him with their simple truth. “I thought you were supposed to be the quiet twin,” he muttered.

“Leigh!” Hayley called to her.

Leigh narrowed her eyes. “I am. Stick around. My sister will tear a strip off you that will make you wish you were back inside with Chief Crossley. As for last night, forget it, Gavin. I plan to.”

“You won’t forget,” he said softly as she turned to meet her sister. “And neither will I.”

Chapter Two

The present

Marcus Thomas had been murdered over the roses he’d so carefully tended. Shouldn’t she be able to summon some emotion other than relief? He’d been her father after all. Admittedly that had been a technicality as far as he’d been concerned, but it was biological fact, nonetheless.

Leigh Hart Thomas found herself standing slightly apart from the small group gathered under the hot summer sun. She wondered how the minister could find any kind words to eulogize a man like Marcus. She would have been unequal to the task. Even his widow, Eden, stood there without expression as the mercifully short service was concluded.

Eden’s son, Jacob Voxx, looked decidedly ill at ease at her side. Of course, it was broiling hot beneath the sun and he was dressed in a somber black suit and tie. One sleeve dangled uselessly at his side. Since his left arm had provided passage for one of the killer’s bullets, it was still in a sling to restrict its movement. That would be enough to make anyone uncomfortable, but Leigh suspected it was only part of the reason Jacob glanced once more to his left.

Leigh’s twin sister, Hayley, stood beside Bram Myers. His large, strong hand rested lightly—protectively—on her shoulder. Hayley looked incredibly good for someone who had twice nearly died at the same murderer’s hands.

Leigh decided it was hard not to feel a twinge of envy looking at the couple. She and her sister had always shared a special bond—that would never really change. But while Leigh had been in England visiting friends, her sister had forged a new bond—one Leigh couldn’t share.

Bram Myers was a large, rawboned man, handsome in a dark, intense sort of way. Ten years older than her sister, he might not think he wanted to marry again, but it was a foregone conclusion for everyone else. If there was ever a couple that belonged together, it was the two of them. Leigh wondered if Bram was aware that he maintained a subtle, physical contact with Hayley whenever they were together.

While Leigh envied her sister, she doubted she could ever open herself emotionally to another person so completely. Trust came a lot harder to her than it did to Hayley.

Restlessly, Leigh tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and decided she was definitely going to adopt her sister’s new, carefree hairstyle as soon as she could get into town to see the beautician. Not only was her current style hot and heavy in the summer heat and humidity, the shorter, sleeker look was a much better image for someone about to embark on a new dream job as a computer programmer for an exciting start-up company involved in the telecommunications industry.

As Hayley and Bram exchanged a private look, Leigh’s gaze skated to the couple standing slightly behind them. George and Emily Walken stood side by side. They had been family friends, and Heartskeep’s closest neighbors, since before Leigh had been born. The childless couple had always taken in troubled foster youths, and since her grandfather’s death and her mother’s disappearance, they’d taken in Hayley and Leigh as well.

When Marcus had been murdered, the couple had shielded them from the media. They’d run interference with the authorities, offered them a place to stay, and helped in every way they could. Leigh would never forget their kindness. Being around them was the next best thing to having her mother and grandfather back.

Off to one side, Odette Norwhich scowled darkly at everyone and no one. Eden had recently hired the woman as Heartskeep’s live-in housekeeper. While Leigh had only seen Mrs. Norwhich a few times since she’d been back, she’d concluded the woman always looked like that. Hayley assured her that Mrs. Norwhich actually had a softer side, but Leigh had yet to see one.

Leigh let her gaze travel around the circle to the other people who now walked forward to offer their condolences. Since the service had been private, there were blessedly few of them. She pasted a smile on her face and spoke briefly to each person, relieved when it was finally time to go. Marcus had been their father, in fact, but never in deed. And while he’d lived at Heartskeep as long as they had, he had never belonged there.

Leigh started to follow her sister and Bram, when a gust of chilled air swept her body. Except there wasn’t the faintest trace of a breeze. As she turned slowly, her gaze skipped over the abandoned coffin and the scattered grave sites surrounding it. A solitary figure stood several yards away. Her breath constricted painfully in her chest and her heart began to pound.

What was he doing here?

Riveted in place, she stared helplessly as memories ambushed her without mercy. It wasn’t fair. She’d dealt with these emotions years ago.

“Leigh? Is something wrong?” Hayley asked.

Everything. The mere sight of Gavin Jarret shouldn’t affect her so deeply after all these years.

“Leigh?”

She focused on Hayley’s hand, warm against the bare skin of her arm. Bram’s dark eyes mirrored her sister’s concern. Leigh managed to shake her head. Quickly, she sent her gaze to the coffin.

“I should be feeling something, shouldn’t I?” she asked, relieved that her voice sounded normal.

Hayley’s features tightened. She barely gave the coffin a glance. “Relief?”

After a second, Leigh nodded sadly. “He was still our father.”

“‘It takes more than a biological act to be a father’ isn’t just a saying, it’s a fact. You know as well as I do that the only thing Marcus loved was his roses. Come on, we need to get out of this heat.”

Leigh let her sister lead her away. When she cast a final look over her shoulder, Gavin was gone, but she glimpsed another figure darting between the headstones. Definitely not a mourner. Maybe a celebrant who’d come to make sure Marcus was really dead?

She chided herself for the nasty thought. More than likely, a photojournalist had been snapping pictures for some tabloid. The recent events at Heartskeep had made the Hart family headline news once more. Marcus would have hated that.

As far as Leigh was concerned, the media could print whatever they liked. Still, as they reached the car, she couldn’t prevent her gaze from sweeping the cemetery once more. Gavin was gone. She told herself she was relieved. He was the last person she wanted to talk with.

Was his presence the reason she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something bad was about to happen?

“YOU WILL HELP ME,” Martin Pepperton snarled. The horse at his back danced several steps sideways and snorted, reacting to his angry tone.

Nolan backed to the stall opening to give the large animal more space. He shot a quick glance around the empty barn, feeling dangerously exposed.

“This is no place for this discussion,” he told Martin, noting the too-wide pupils and the man’s sagging jowls. Martin Pepperton was Nolan’s age, but at twenty-nine, Martin was not aging with grace. The youngest member of the illustrious Pepperton family was beginning to show the effects of his years of substance abuse.

Martin sneered. “What’s the matter, Nolan? Afraid of a little horse? Panteena won’t hurt you. Will you, girl? You should put some money on her next time she runs.”

The high-strung animal stomped its hoof, jerking hard on the lead Martin held. Nolan had a strong urge to walk away and not look back. It was unfortunate that he was still tied to Martin with bonds only death would sever.

“I’ve got to get back to my group,” he told Martin. “The answer is no.”

“Remember old man Wickert?”

Nolan glanced wildly around again to make sure the barn was still empty. “Shut up, Martin. That was a long time ago, and it was an accident. The old man wasn’t supposed to die.”

“Think the police will care?”

“What’s wrong with you? Even your drug-soaked brain ought to know if one of us goes down for that, all three of us go down.”

Stepping away from the horse, Martin scowled at him. “You want a bigger cut, is that it?”

Nolan swore. “I don’t want your money,” Nolan told him, seriously worried now. Martin was crazy—and dangerous. More dangerous than Nolan had realized.

Martin took a menacing step forward, startling the horse into almost rearing. He yanked hard on the beast’s halter. The animal kicked out and whinnied in protest.

“I’ve already transferred ownership of Sunset Pride to you. Except, of course, the horse isn’t really Sunset Pride,” he said with a vicious chortle. “Anyhow, I need you to front for me on this deal.”

“Why the hell did you put that nag in my name? I told you on the phone that I didn’t want any part of your scheme.”

“My family’s been part of the racing circuit here at Saratoga Springs since the early 1900s. That bastard made a fool of me when he sold me that worthless colt. But I’ll show him. I have a reputation to protect.”

“What about my reputation?”

“You aren’t in racing,” Martin scoffed.

“Exactly. No one’s going to believe I bought a racehorse. Why would I? I don’t even like the blasted animals.”

“Businessmen buy racehorses all the time. They’re investments, a simple business transaction. All you need to say is that you bought the horse and now you need the cash for something else. The paperwork on this deal won’t be challenged. Until they run a DNA sample, no one can prove a thing. And they won’t. Why should they? Besides, no one will be surprised that someone outside the racing world was fooled into buying a worthless horse. The only one who will look like a fool is Tyrone Briggs.”

Nolan shook his head. “No way, Martin. I told you, the risk is too high. I want no part in selling Briggs or anyone else a worthless horse. They’re going to trace it right back to you anyhow. You aren’t thinking clear.”

Martin’s face underwent a dark change. “I’m thinking just fine,” he snarled. “You’re the one who isn’t thinking. I need you to do this for me. You act as owner on this sale or, so help me, I tip the cops about what really happened seven years ago.”

Fear sent Nolan’s pulse racing. His friend wasn’t bluffing.

“Will you listen to yourself? You’re so high you’re acting nuts, Martin.” A trickle of sweat started down his forehead.

When a gun appeared in Martin’s hand, Nolan’s mouth went dry. Martin had become unpredictable at the best of times, but now, as Martin’s generally florid cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of red, Nolan knew real fear. The bastard was just crazy enough to pull the trigger.

“Don’t be a fool, Martin. The minute you fire a gun in here, people will come running.”

“Maybe I don’t care.”

His eyes glittered with a drug-induced sheen. Nolan had no doubt Martin was high enough to pull the damn trigger and worry about the consequences later.

“You don’t need this kind of petty vengeance,” Nolan said in an effort to placate him.

“The guy screwed with me. He’s going to pay. No one’s going to make me look like a laughingstock. By the time Briggs learns the horse is worthless, he’s the one people are going to laugh at.”

Reason wasn’t going to work. The drug was in charge. Nolan took a half step forward into the cramped stall and tried not to look at the nervous animal shifting restlessly.

“Okay, okay. If it’s that important to you I’ll make the call.”

Martin grinned. Sensing victory, he lowered the gun. Nolan sprang forward. Panteena squealed and kicked the wood sharply as the men came together, struggling for possession of the weapon. The gun discharged, muffled by the press of their bodies.

Nolan wrenched it free. For a second, Martin stood there with a blank look of surprise on his face. Then he folded with a groan. That was too much for the frightened animal. The horse reared with a loud shriek of protest. Nolan jumped back just in time. The wicked hooves came down with deadly accuracy. He heard the crunch of bone even as he hurried out of the stall and closed the gate.

He didn’t waste time fooling with the lock as Panteena reared again. In a maddened effort to escape, the horse put all fifteen hundred pounds behind the blows it inflicted on the mangled form at its feet. Nolan ran toward the opening at the far end of the barn and heard the splintering sound of hooves against wood.

Any second now, the horse would hit the gate and be free. That was fine with him. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Martin Pepperton again. No way could he have survived those hooves. A quick glance over his shoulder nearly stopped Nolan’s heart cold.

A woman stood framed in the opening at the opposite end of the barn, looking right at him. She turned away quickly and at that moment, the horse kicked open the un-latched gate and erupted from its stall. With a sinking feeling, Nolan began to run.

She must have recognized him. He hadn’t changed that much in the last few years. And he realized Martin’s gun was still clenched in his fist.

Nolan shoved the weapon in the belt under his jacket and altered his course. He needed to establish an alibi—fast. There was a chance the cops wouldn’t listen to the bitch, especially if he could produce a solid alibi.

Hell. Maybe he’d get lucky. Maybe the horse would run her down and kill her too, saving him the effort.

LEIGH STEPPED from the beauty shop and swung her hair experimentally. Her head felt several pounds lighter. The sensation was strange. She couldn’t ever remember having short hair, but she liked the feeling. And as a bonus, all those long, golden-brown strands were going to be put to good use. The beautician had suggested donating her hair to a local group that made wigs for people undergoing chemotherapy. She’d been only too happy to agree.

All in all, she felt pretty good as she walked down the street to meet her sister at Rosencroft and Associates. The lawyer’s office had called Hayley right after Marcus’s funeral. Eden had announced her intention to attend the meeting and Hayley hadn’t argued.

“Let Mr. Rosencroft explain that she has no authority at Heartskeep anymore. It isn’t worth an argument.”

Leigh agreed. She’d never understood the relationship between Eden and Marcus, any more than she’d understood the relationship between Marcus and her mother. There had been no affection between any of them. Yet Marcus had married both women.

She shook off the perplexing thought and looked down the street, relieved to see that Eden had brought Jacob with her this afternoon. His presence might have a calming effect on the high-strung woman. The two were waiting on the sidewalk outside the narrow brick building that housed the lawyer’s office.

“Hi, Jacob,” she greeted. “Eden.”

Jacob turned, his boyishly handsome face breaking into a wide smile. “Hey, Hayley! Where’s your shadow?”

Though he’d grown up with them, Jacob still couldn’t tell Leigh from her sister. Leigh was used to it, so she offered him a cheeky grin.

“Wrong as usual. Here comes Hayley and Bram.”

The couple had taken a walk through the town of Stony Ridge while Leigh was having her hair cut. Now they strolled up, hand in hand. Jacob groaned.

“You cut your hair too? I could finally tell you two apart.”

Eden sniffed imperiously, patting at her stiff, bleached blond hair. “I’m going inside, out of this heat.” Without waiting for a response, she reached for the door handle. Jacob rolled his eyes behind her back, but hurried to hold the door for his mother.

Leigh smiled. Everyone liked Jacob. Even Bram, who’d been understandably territorial when they first met, had come to terms with the younger man after Jacob took a bullet while trying to protect Hayley. Leigh still found it hard to believe Jacob had actually proposed to her sister, but Hayley was convinced Jacob had done so to protect her from Bram.

Jacob had taken on the role of unofficial older brother to them right from the start. Eden had worked as their father’s nurse and assistant since before they were born, so Jacob had spent a lot of time at the estate when they were growing up, especially during the summer and school breaks.

Initially, Jacob and Eden had viewed Bram as a fortune hunter. To protect Hayley, Jacob had asked her to marry him. This made perfect sense to Hayley and Leigh, but Leigh still wasn’t sure Bram understood. The truce between the two men still seemed a bit uneasy to her.

Inside the brick building they discovered someone had gone to great lengths to give the law office a cozy appearance. Comfortable chairs and a coffeepot with a tray of cookies beckoned visitors to relax while they waited. As usual, Eden wasn’t interested in relaxing. She strode up to the receptionist as if she hadn’t a second to wait. Hayley shook her head at the maneuver and winked at Leigh.

“So what do you think of the shorter style?” Hayley asked, sotto voce, ignoring the woman.

Leigh swung her head and grinned back. “I love it.”

“Me too. I’m not sure Bram’s thrilled though.”

“Hey, I told you I liked it,” he protested.

“Uh-huh. You also told me you loved my hair long.”

“And I did.” His eyes took on a smoky look. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you were bald.”

Oh, yeah, he was a goner, all right, Leigh thought happily. Hayley had picked her mate with the same single-minded determination that she used on everything else in her life. Leigh wished she shared a bit more of her sister’s assertiveness. She was tired of being known as the quiet twin. On the other hand, her one attempt at being bold and daring had led to an unmitigated disaster, and that was one lesson she would never forget.

“Yo, Leigh, wake up,” Hayley said, giving her a nudge.

The receptionist was ushering them down a short hall to an open door. Bram stepped back, letting Hayley, then Leigh, precede him into the room past the cheerful receptionist.

Leigh came to a dead stop one step inside the room. Bram bumped into her, but Leigh barely noticed. She only had eyes for the man standing behind the desk.

“Hello, Leigh.”

Gavin Jarret’s gravelly low voice sent her heart rate tap-dancing. She’d barely been able to stop thinking about him since that glimpse across the cemetery, but he was the last person she’d expected to see in here.

“Don’t tell me you’re in trouble again?” she blurted out.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’m on the other side of the desk now. You did tell me to make something of myself, remember?”

Heat flamed her cheeks. He was standing behind the gleaming walnut desk, dressed in a dark conservative suit instead of jeans. His thick, wavy hair had been cropped into a stylish business cut, though that didn’t stop a few of the unruly strands from straying toward his forehead.

“You’re a lawyer?”

His lips slanted wryly. “Sometimes I have trouble believing it myself.”

A lawyer. The word didn’t make sense. Though he dressed like a lawyer, the bad boy of the county still lingered in his relaxed, confident pose. And as those restless eyes skimmed over her, they still seemed to have the power to penetrate beneath the surface and read her very thoughts.

“Leigh?”

Her sister had moved to her side protectively. Aware of the sudden undercurrent, Bram also took a protective step forward on the other side of her. Wry humor sparked in Gavin’s eyes at her unexpected buffer. While touched by their concern, Leigh didn’t need anyone to protect her from Gavin. Not anymore.

“Why don’t you all have a seat?” Gavin invited.

“Really, Leigh, pay attention. Didn’t you just hear that girl tell us Mr. Rosencroft died last week?” Eden demanded.

Leigh blinked. Every eye focused on Marcus’s widow. Eden had usurped the chair front and center of the desk and was staring at Leigh with obvious impatience.

“No, actually, I didn’t,” she told Eden quietly.

“Well, sit down. I have things to do today. You and Mr. Jarret can have your personal discussion after we conclude this meeting.”

Gavin’s silence spoke louder than words. He regarded Eden as if she was an unpleasant curiosity. Which wasn’t far off the mark, unfortunately. Leigh had never cared for Eden, and the antipathy was mutual. In the past, Eden had been careful not to let her aversion show when other people were around.

At Gavin’s silence, the woman’s sharp expression faltered a bit. Jacob shifted uncomfortably at her side. After a long pause, Gavin turned to Hayley.

“Ms. Thomas, if—”

“I think formality is a bit pretentious under the circumstances, don’t you? I’m still Hayley,” she told him.

Gavin inclined his head. “If you’ll all take seats we’ll see if we can’t hurry Mrs. Thomas on her way.”

The gibe was so deftly accomplished, Eden didn’t catch on. Jacob’s puzzled expression turned speculative. His gaze went from Leigh to Gavin and back again. If he didn’t already know about their brief moment of notoriety, someone in town would undoubtedly fill him in as soon as he asked a question.

Hayley was still in her protective mode, so Leigh mustered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. The sight of Gavin might be doing crazy things to her insides, but she could handle the situation. Especially since Gavin was no longer looking directly at her.

She claimed the seat farthest from his desk and reminded herself that she was no longer seventeen. On the outside, at least, she would appear cool and sophisticated and ready to handle whatever came her way. She was very glad she’d had her hair cut before coming in here today.

Gavin began passing out paper folders. When he came to her, Leigh even managed an impersonal smile. Was that a hint of admiration she glimpsed in his eyes, or amusement at her pretense? He returned to his desk before she could be sure.

“Mr. Rosencroft had been ill for some time preceding his death. For the past several months, I’ve been the only associate in Rosencroft and Associates. I’m familiar with the estate and the various wills involved and am fully prepared to administer the estate, but you may, of course, wish to petition the court to assign the function to someone else. If you wish to do so, I’ll understand.”

Leigh held his gaze without blinking. No one said a word.

“The packets I just handed each of you contain copies of the agreement set forth between your grandfather, Dennison Barkley Hart, and this firm. There is a copy of his will as well as a copy of the one we have on file from your mother, Amy Lynn Hart Thomas.”

“What about Marcus?” Eden demanded sharply.

“I’ve included that as well. However, it is a very old will and it might be a good idea to be certain he didn’t have another will drawn up somewhere else that might supersede this one.”

“Ridiculous. This was the family firm.”

But Marcus had never been part of the family in any real sense. Leigh looked to where Eden sat stiffly in the soft leather chair.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Thomas. I checked our records thoroughly. This is the most recent will we have on file for him.”

Eden leaned forward. “Let’s get something clear right now, Mr. Jarret, this is a community-property state and I’m not going to be done out of what’s mine. My husband was married to Amy Hart for more than twenty years and he didn’t divorce her until after she disappeared. He’s entitled to half her estate because they were married when she disappeared.”

“Mrs. Thomas—”

“I intend to contest Amy’s will if you attempt to cut me out of what’s mine,” she continued angrily.

“That’s certainly your right, Mrs. Thomas. But I will tell you that these wills were set up to withstand just such a challenge. If you’ll look—”

Her expression turned sly. “I doubt Amy’s will allowed for the fact that she wasn’t in her right mind.”

Hayley leaped to her feet. “How dare you!”

“I mean no disrespect, Hayley,” Eden lied, “but everyone knows your mother was devastated by her father’s death. Even the police think that’s why she disappeared in New York City. She was too upset to be as careful as she should have been.”

Bram laid a hand on Hayley’s arm as Gavin’s rough voice swung every eye in his direction.

“Amy Thomas’s mental health makes no difference to the Heartskeep estate.”

“Of course it does. As her husband, Marcus was entitled to at least half of her estate.”

“Before we dispute that, let me explain that Amy Thomas’s estate did not include Heartskeep,” Gavin said smoothly.

Eden paled. “What are you talking about?”

“Mother, if you’d be quiet and listen for five minutes, we’d all know,” Jacob burst out.

Eden gaped at her son, as surprised as the rest of them by his uncharacteristic outburst. Bram tugged Hayley back down in her seat and kept a firm grip on her arm.

“Prior to his death, Dennison Hart was under a doctor’s care,” Gavin told them. “A sworn statement is included attesting to his mental state at the time this will was signed and witnessed. The conditions and bequests set out are quite explicit. Amy Hart Thomas was disinherited the day she married Marcus Thomas.”

“That can’t be!”

“I’m afraid it is, Mrs. Thomas. That clause was never revoked, even though Mr. Hart’s will was revised several times since the original will was drawn up. Amy was to have a generous allowance for as long as she lived. Heartskeep and its grounds were left in their entirety to Amy’s firstborn child, in this case, Hayley Hart Thomas.”

“This is outrageous!” Eden jumped to her feet. Her plump, stubby fingers curled into tight fists of anger. “My lawyer will be looking into this.”

“Of course, that’s certainly your right. I was going to advise you to seek legal counsel of your own. My card is enclosed,” Gavin said calmly. “Have your attorney call me with any questions.”

“Mother, sit down and let the man finish,” Jacob told her.

She rounded on her son, her face bright crimson. “I know collusion when I hear it,” she snapped. “They won’t get away with this.”

Eden stormed from the room, clutching the packet to her chest. Jacob rose as well, looking acutely embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Jacob,” Hayley told him.

“Thanks. I’d better go see to her.”

There was a moment of silence as he left, closing the door with a soft snick.

“I was under the impression that the terms of your grandfather’s will were general knowledge,” Gavin said.

“I thought so, too,” Hayley responded. “Mom and Grandpa told us a long time ago how the estate would be handled. Marcus knew. I know he did.”

“I guess he forgot to mention it to Eden,” Leigh said.

Gavin held her gaze. She felt a moment of vertigo as her stomach muscles contracted.

“According to Mr. Rosencroft, it was Dennison Hart’s wish to keep Heartskeep intact within his family. He went to considerable lengths to set up trusts to ensure that the estate would be protected.”

“From Marcus?” Hayley asked.

Gavin shifted in his chair. When he spoke, his tone was deceptively mild.

“From anyone who might seek to take it away. Ira said you’d understand your grandfather’s misgivings.”

“Absolutely,” Hayley agreed bitterly. “What I’ve never understood is why Mom married Marcus in the first place. What happens if I decline to accept the estate?”

Leigh gasped. Even Bram looked startled.

“What are you saying?” Leigh demanded.

Bram gripped Hayley by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t do this, Hayley. Not because of me.”

Leigh knew that Hayley’s wealth and Bram’s lack of money had been an issue for Bram from the start. Given her sister’s nature, she should have expected something like this.

“That’s not it, Bram. Honest. I want Leigh to have the house. I don’t even like the place anymore.” She shuddered. “And not just because of what happened.” Hayley looked at Leigh. “It stopped being home for me the day Mom disappeared. I can’t see myself ever living there again. Look, I’d hate to see it fall into any further disrepair, but if you refuse to take it on, that’s probably exactly what will happen.”

“But no pressure, right?” Leigh asked. “What makes you think I want that albatross?”

Gavin leaned back in his chair and regarded them. “Well, this is something Ira and Dennison didn’t foresee. Are you sure about this, Hayley?”

“Positive.”

“Leigh?” he asked.

“I…don’t know. I never gave any thought to owning Heartskeep. Mom always said it would belong to Hayley one day. That was fine with me. I mean, what am I going to do with a place that size?”

“Well, for one thing,” Hayley said, “since Eden already hired R. J. Monroe and his crew to repair the fire damage, I think we should have him tear down those walls upstairs and put the house back the way it was designed.”

“Hold on a minute,” Gavin interrupted. “Let me be sure I understand your position, Hayley. You definitely want to decline your inheritance?”

“As far as the house and grounds, absolutely. I lost any affinity for the place after being trapped inside Marcus’s office area while the house was burning down around us.”

Bram squeezed her fingers and Leigh shut her eyes, thinking how close her sister had come to dying for the sins of their father.

“Leigh?” Gavin asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at Hayley. “You could have warned me you were going to do this,” she chided. “I don’t want the place, either.”

“Then we’ll give it to charity.”

“That would be fine with me, but Grandpa would be crushed if he knew.”

“He’s dead. But you’re right,” Hayley agreed reluctantly. “He loved Heartskeep.”

Leigh realized that Bram would never feel comfortable if Hayley accepted the house. More than likely, he’d never ask her to marry him. Her wealth was bad enough, but Bram would hate living at Heartskeep. He’d made no secret of his feelings where the estate was concerned.

“I’ll tell you what,” Leigh told her sister. “I’ll accept Heartskeep as long as I can hold it for your firstborn child.”

“Deal!” Hayley turned to Bram in obvious relief. “And while I love the fence and gate you made, I want those bars off our windows and our stone lions put back. Right, sis?”

“I’m having them repaired as we sit here,” Bram told her.

“Lions?” Gavin asked Leigh.

“Two big stone lions used to sit on brick columns where Marcus had Bram put the wrought-iron gate.”

“I remember now,” Gavin said. “You seem to have some definite ideas about what you want done with the estate, Hayley. Are you certain you don’t want it? Nothing says you have to live there.”

“Good, because you couldn’t pay me to live there again. I really don’t want the estate, Gavin. I don’t want the responsibility.”

“Leigh?”

“My mother loved Heartskeep as much as my grandfather did, so I’ll take care of it for them.”

“Thanks, sis.”

Gavin frowned. “Then I’m afraid we’re going to have to have you accept the property, Hayley, then sign it over to your sister. You’ll get a terrific tax break, but she’ll have to pay.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I’ll cover the taxes,” Hayley promised.

“I’ll have to draw up some new papers and get back to you on this.”

“Great! I feel a million pounds lighter already,” Hayley beamed.

Which explained why she felt a million pounds heavier, Leigh mused.

“Ah, sorry, but I’m afraid we aren’t quite finished yet,” Gavin told them.

“Marcus’s will,” Hayley said.

“That, too. We can dispense with your part of that pretty quickly. The will on file is dated nearly fifteen years ago. You were both mentioned by name,” Gavin told them. “The language is a bit, uh, strong, but the gist is that you didn’t need his money so you weren’t to get a cent from his estate. He left everything he had to Eden Voxx.”

Leigh sat back in relief.

“Good!” Hayley said. “That should make her happy.”

“I gather that won’t be a problem, then?” Gavin asked.

“Not with us,” Hayley assured him, looking to Leigh for confirmation.

She nodded at both of them.

“Then we can dispense with that part of this meeting. If you have any questions after you’ve looked over his will, feel free to call me. Ira wanted to meet with you on another issue completely.”

Gavin’s expression turned grave. He laid his palms flat on the desk and made eye contact with them.

“You know that Marcus was in charge of caring for Heartskeep under Ira’s supervision. What you may not know is that Ira was confined to a wheelchair for the past two and a half years. He didn’t get around much before that, either.”

“I know,” Hayley told him. “And Marcus never bothered to take care of the grounds or the buildings.”

“No,” Gavin agreed, “He didn’t. But he did bill the estate for hundreds of thousands of dollars in repairs that were never made.”

“What?” Hayley demanded.

“Copies of the receipts are in your packets. Eden’s doesn’t contain this information. I was going to ask her to stay while I told you about this privately, first, but…” He shrugged.

“Marcus bilked the estate?” Hayley asked.

“Ira transferred several hundred thousand dollars into an account managed by Marcus shortly after your mother disappeared. He signed off on all the bills presented to him without sending anyone out to make sure the work was actually done. It wasn’t until I happened to drive past the entrance to the estate one day that I realized something was wrong. We had just paid Marcus a fortune for a completely new driveway that had never been installed.”

“You can say that again,” Hayley told him with asperity.

He held up a sheaf of papers. “I suspect all of these bills are phony. Some of these companies don’t exist except on paper.”

Leigh looked at the photocopy in her folder and nodded. “Computer generated?”

“That’s my guess. As near as I can tell without an audit, your estate has been defrauded of over six hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

Hayley gaped at him. Bram, sitting silently beside her, covered her hand.

Gavin’s eyes, which always seemed to see so much more than they should, pinned Leigh where she sat.

“You and I will need to work closely together. Will you be all right with that?”

Her heartbeat gave a little stutter. She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Of course. Will you?”

Chapter Three

Heartskeep rose defiantly against the sky. Leigh stared at the sprawling, once-elegant mansion and wondered what had become of the welcoming warmth the house had once projected. She suspected it had disappeared the same day as her mother.

Workmen were gutting the fire-damaged wing and all manner of trucks and equipment filled the turnaround out front. Leigh drove around to the back. She’d have to find R.J. As the supervisor, he needed to move repairs to the long, tree-shrouded driveway up on the list of priorities. The ruts had been bad enough before trucks had started lumbering over it. Now the ruts were beginning to resemble craters, making for a seriously bone-jarring ride.

R.J. was a couple years younger than Gavin, and was another of their neighbors’ foster sons. Leigh vaguely remembered him as a quiet loner in his teens. Tall and dark haired like Gavin, he was leaner, but just as good-looking. He’d been orphaned young and, after being abused by a series of foster parents, had become a serious disciplinary problem. Fortunately for him, like Gavin, he’d ended up under the caring supervision of George and Emily Walken. The couple had accepted and encouraged his need to work with his hands. Leigh was glad Eden had hired his fledging firm to take on the renovations, even if she’d done so for expediency and not out of any altruistic desire to help a neighbor.

Parking behind the house, Leigh stepped from the car and paused to stare up at the house. The sinister feel was even stronger back here. The bars Bram had installed over the windows didn’t improve things any. Leigh couldn’t wait for him to take them all down. Her sister owed her big-time for taking on this albatross.

Gavin had spent more than an hour going over the details and the money with them yesterday. He’d kept the discussion on a professional level the entire time, but Leigh had been aware of him every minute.

The myriad fictitious bills showed all sorts of major repairs that hadn’t been made—and most were desperately needed. Restoring the house inside and out was going to demand an enormous amount of time and money. Leigh didn’t mind spending either one, but she had a degree in telecommunications and one in computer science. Neither one would do her much good out here in horse country, but she’d called this morning and turned down the exciting new job she’d been offered in Boston because she realized the renovations were going to require a lot of time and thought. Leigh needed to be here—at least part of the time, so what was going to happen to their Boston apartment? She couldn’t see her sister moving back there without Bram any more than she could see Bram moving to an apartment in Boston.

Fretting, Leigh turned away from the house and headed for the peace of the garden maze. Gavin wasn’t due to meet her here for another twenty minutes or so and she wanted that time alone to think. Since yesterday, she’d been telling Hayley and the Walkens that she wasn’t the least bit concerned to find herself working so closely with Gavin. What had happened between them had been a long time ago and was unimportant now. She could deal with the situation like a mature adult.

An entire year, working closely with Gavin.

Why did he still have to look so incredibly good? Each time she met those penetrating eyes of his, her control slipped a notch and she had to struggle to surface from their compelling force. Flashbacks of that long-ago night kept her so on edge, it was hard to concentrate on anything else when she was around him. And what kept her awake late into the night was the certainty that Gavin hadn’t forgotten a thing any more than she had. She was almost certain she’d seen more than a flicker of masculine approval when he’d first looked at her in his office.

Right. Thinking that Gavin still had the hots for her was certainly dealing with the situation like a mature adult.

Leigh stumbled over a vine that had inched its way onto the path. Yanked from her troubled thoughts, she gazed around in dismay. The gardens were an even bigger mess than the house.

At one time, there had been three distinct mazes. Her grandfather had kept them trimmed to waist height to show off the ornamental trees and topiary animals sprinkled about. Dead ends had culminated in large circles with inviting benches, shade and ornamental trees, and a profusion of flowers. The water fountain and underground sprinkler system had been carefully planned before their grandfather’s death. Both had been installed the week her mother had disappeared.

The mazes had been a showplace, yet despite obnoxious bills to the contrary, no work had been done on them since the fountain was completed. The bushes that composed the walls now towered a good six feet or more. In several places, they’d overgrown the paths, uniting the mazes in a vast labyrinth. Most of the topiaries were unrecognizable, and the flowers were either gone or had been replaced by the roses Marcus had become so fond of tending.

Still, Leigh could almost sense her mother’s presence here among her gardens, as she’d called the mazes. Leigh half expected to round a curve and see Amy Thomas in her wide-brimmed sun hat, tending some flowers. She’d be distraught if she could see their present condition. Hiring a landscaper had just moved to the top of Leigh’s to-do list.

A squirrel suddenly skittered in front of her, racing away as if in mortal danger. Leigh realized she’d wandered down a dead-end trail by mistake. She turned to go back, when she heard the distinct crunch of footsteps approaching. A large shape abruptly blocked her path.

“Hello, Leigh.”

For a minute, she couldn’t place the vaguely familiar face. Then he smiled without humor.

“Nolan?”

Nolan Ducort III was the last person she had expected to see here, of all places. His blond good looks were dissipating right along with his hairline. His once-firm jaw had softened and rounded thanks to the thirty pounds or more he’d put on since she’d last seen him. Only his eyes were the same. Cold, and unnaturally blue thanks to contact lenses, they stared at her in a way that made her shiver despite the mid-June heat wave.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“You startled me,” she said warily. She was suddenly conscious of how quiet the maze had become. “I’m…surprised to see you here.”

He swaggered closer. Leigh took an involuntary step back. Instantly, she knew she’d made a mistake. His eyes glittered in triumph at the small show of weakness, and she found herself inside one of the dead-end circles.

“We have some unfinished business, you and I.”

Her stomach twisted in sudden fear. Surely Nolan didn’t mean to attack her. Not now. Not here in her own backyard.

She drew in a steadying breath, tossed her head and raised her chin as she’d seen Hayley do many times before when confronting an annoying person. Hayley was much better at handling the male of the species, but Leigh had learned a thing or two since her last meeting with Nolan.

Imitating her sister’s best haughty glare, she forced herself to look him up and down coldly, taking extra seconds to stare at the paunch that had started to bulge above his belt buckle. Color swarmed up his neck.

Satisfied that the pounds he’d gained would slow him down once she got past him, Leigh managed a sneer. “Get lost, Nolan. Unless you’d like to start doing your business from the inside of a jail cell.”

A flicker of surprise came and went. His features hardened. She had to work to keep her own expression from revealing her core of fear.

“We both know you aren’t going to go to the cops or you’d have done it by now.”

He was right, of course. They both knew what he’d tried to do that night, and they both knew there was no way to prove a thing.

“So, what were you doing at Saratoga the other day?”

The question came out of nowhere and made absolutely no sense.

“Saratoga?” There was a disturbing intensity behind his cold, penetrating stare. “I haven’t been to Saratoga in years.”

“Going to try and pretend it was Hayley?”

Leigh had no idea what he was talking about. She didn’t care. All she wanted was for him to move away from the opening so she could escape.

“Go away, Nolan.”

He tilted his head. A quiver skittered straight down her spine at the fury in his steely blue eyes. Despite her intention not to show any fear, Leigh looked away.

“Now you’ve made me curious, Leigh,” he said with chilling softness. “I wonder exactly what it is you’re trying to hide?”

What was he talking about? She started to protest and stopped. Arguing was pointless. It didn’t matter what he was talking about. Escape was all that mattered.

“Get lost, Nolan. I mean it. You don’t have any business here.”

“Now, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, sounding pleased. “We’re doing business together right this very minute.”

His evil smile sent her pulse racing.

“Didn’t you know? I have an interest in R.J.’s construction company.”

While his voice leered, his expression did not. Cold and calculating, he seemed intent on deliberately baiting her.

“I’ve got an interest in any number of local businesses,” he continued when she remained silent. “In fact, it looks to me like you could use the services of my landscape company.” He waved a flaccid hand toward the overgrown hedges.

“Not even if they are the only ones in town. I’m not afraid of you,” she lied boldly. “I know exactly what you did.”

His eyes gleamed, murderous shards of blue. Her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands.

“Why don’t you call the cops then?” he demanded. “Let’s see which one of us they believe.”

“I know all about your family’s political pull, Nolan. I don’t care if your father and Chief Crossley are old friends. And I don’t care how many other politicians he’s bought. Do you really believe you’re invincible? Even you must realize you can’t buy your way out of everything.”

Fury brought him a step closer. She held her ground by sheer force of will.

“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.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Let it go, Leigh.”

“But—”

“You didn’t want to press charges against Nolan, remember? You wouldn’t even let us report that you’d been drugged.”

As if she could ever forget. Memories of that night and what might have happened without Gavin had haunted her for years.

“There was no point. His family has all sorts of influence in this county. You know the police wouldn’t have believed us. They would have said you put the drug in my drink.”

“I know,” he said thoughtfully, releasing her to rub a hand across his chin. “I didn’t realize you did.”

“Of course I did! We couldn’t prove anything. Nolan would have said he handed me the wrong glass, or that someone else had slipped the drug into my soft drink.”

But she knew Nolan had deliberately handed her the drugged glass. There’d been something in his smirk, she’d seen it even then. She just hadn’t understood.

Leigh knew she’d been lucky. If he’d been able to slip the drug into the beer she’d drunk first, things would have ended very differently that night.

Looking back, she’d take bets that he had asked her and not Hayley to go out with him because Hayley would have taken one look at that party scene and created such a fuss Nolan would have had to take her home. Leigh’s stomach still churned at the memory of that awful party and Nolan’s group of leering friends.

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