Bridal Jeopardy. Rebecca York

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      Stephanie nodded. She hadn’t picked that up from him, but she supposed it could be true. She canceled the last silent observation. He wasn’t in town for investment advice. He was here to investigate John Reynard.

      That realization made her suck in a sharp breath.

      “Are you all right?” Claire asked, her gaze anxious.

      “I’m...I’m just reliving the moments before Mr. Brady came in,” she answered. “It was pretty scary with those men coming after me.”

      “What happened, exactly?” Claire asked.

      “Not too much. They came in, and I could tell they—” she gulped “—wanted to harm me.”

      “Why?” Claire pressed.

      “I don’t know,” she answered, flapping her arm in frustration and wondering if it had something to do with her father. What if he’d let his gambling get out of hand again and they were here to make sure he paid up?

      Nothing like that had happened to her before. Nobody had come after her because of her father’s debts, but maybe she’d been lucky in the past.

      Craig was also staring at her. Afraid he might try to touch her, she took a quick step back.

      “Are you all right?” he asked.

      “Yes.”

      “I’d better go.”

      She felt relief. She needed some distance from him. But the relief was tinged with disappointment. They had made some kind of weird mental connection, and she couldn’t simply let that go. She wanted to ask if she would see him again, but she couldn’t start a conversation like that in front of Claire. And she already knew the answer, because she understood that she and Craig Brady couldn’t keep away from each other.

      She shivered, drawing a reaction from Claire again.

      “You should go home and rest.”

      “I can’t keep bugging out on you.”

      “You’ve just had a pretty bad experience.”

      She might have argued except that she wanted to be alone with her thoughts—and her reactions.

      * * *

      OUTSIDE ON THE STREET, Craig took a deep breath, then looked around, making sure that the two men who had attacked Stephanie weren’t lurking.

      Perhaps if the other woman hadn’t come in, Craig would have stayed in the shop. But their privacy had been compromised. Which was lucky, because following through on his impulses would have been dangerous for Stephanie.

      He thought about her reaction to his question about calling the cops. A regular, upstanding citizen would have wanted to report the incident, but she’d decided not to do it. Which was good for him, he supposed. If he got dragged into making a police report, he’d have to give his real name.

      He wasn’t quite steady on his feet as he walked down the sidewalk, not sure where he was going.

      His head was spinning as he tried to take in everything that had happened in the past hour. Starting with the attack and ending with the intimacy of his contact with Stephanie. He was still reeling from that. Probably she was, too, although he knew her reaction wasn’t exactly the same as his.

      From the contact with her, he knew that she had never experienced anything like what had happened when they’d touched. She’d been totally unprepared for the way their minds had connected.

      To be honest, he hadn’t been prepared, either. But it was different for him. He had known that kind of mind-to-mind contact before—with his brother. He’d mourned Sam’s loss and mourned the loss of that perfect communication. He’d thought he would never experience it again. Then he had—with Stephanie Swift. A woman who was engaged to marry the man who had caused Sam’s death.

      He swore under his breath, trying to wrap his mind around all the implications. If she married Reynard, she’d be lost to him. And lost to herself, too, because she’d be committing herself to a man who didn’t understand her and couldn’t give her the intimate contact she needed.

      Craig huffed out a breath. And he could?

      Yes, of course. He’d proved it when he’d touched her, kissed her. Their minds had opened to each other, but there was an added component he’d never experienced with his brother. He and Sam had been twin brothers, sharing the intimacy of siblings. He and Stephanie were adults—and intimate on a whole new level. Not only could they communicate mind to mind, they were drawn to each other with a sexual pull that was startling in its intensity.

      He wanted to make love with her. Desperately. Yet below the surface of that need was a hint of warning. The sexual contact was dangerous if they didn’t handle it right. He wasn’t sure why he realized that truth. He only knew that he wasn’t making it up.

      Something else he knew. He couldn’t allow Stephanie Swift to marry John Reynard for a whole lot of reasons. Yet he knew that was another thing he’d have to handle carefully if he didn’t want Stephanie to end up dead.

      He winced. That was putting it pretty strongly, but he couldn’t discount that truth. John Reynard would fight for what he thought was his. And if he couldn’t have it, nobody could.

      And what about Craig’s original purpose—to avenge his brother’s death? He hadn’t forgotten about that, but he knew he couldn’t simply go blasting into Reynard’s life. All along he’d known he had to be careful about his approach to the man. That was true in spades now.

      Chapter Four

      “You don’t mind staying here by yourself?” Stephanie asked her assistant again.

      “I think I’ll be okay.”

      “I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”

      Claire gave her a direct look. “The way it sounded, they were after you—not me.”

      She answered with a tight nod.

      “Go on, then.” Claire looked around. “And maybe you want to take the back way.”

      Stephanie hated the idea of sneaking out of her own shop, but she knew that Claire was probably right. She slipped through the back door and stood looking around before heading down the alley and over a few blocks to the house she’d bought. She kept herself from running, but she walked quickly along the afternoon streets. When she stepped inside her living room, she breathed a sigh before locking the door firmly behind her, then looking around at the room she had so lovingly furnished—with some pieces from the Garden District mansion and others that she’d picked up at flea markets and garage sales.

      The house itself was old but charming, and she’d gotten it at a very good price after Katrina, from a couple who had decided to leave the city for a safer environment.

      The down payment had taken a chunk of the money she’d inherited from her mother. But she hadn’t wanted to live with her father in the Garden District mansion. She’d СКАЧАТЬ