“No, thank you.” Clearing her throat and glancing around the room she wished she could push back the panic attack still threatening to shorten her breathing.

She hadn’t had one for years, not since arriving in Kentucky, actually. Now her insides were shuddering, her throat tightening, the unreasoned fear rising inside her like a fast-moving sickness.

“Why not?” The hand he had been extending went to his hip in a classically feminine gesture of irritation that did little to ease her apprehension.

Blinking back at him, she fought to come up with an answer other than the fact that the thought of anything in her stomach made her want to throw up as the panic built inside her.

“Tea,” Eldon stated, finally shifting his stance and brushing the thin strands of white-blond hair back from his rodentlike face. “You look like the tea sort.” Shifting his attention from her to the door, he yelled, “Broecun!”

The door opened.

His expression as impassive as moments before, the bodyguard, butler, whatever the hell he was, stepped just inside the room.

“Mr. Vessante?”

“Have Leda bring in a pot of tea, please.”

Cold, cold brown eyes flickered over her for the briefest moment before he backed out of the doorway, closing the doors behind him.

Piper tightened her grip on her portfolio.

Eldon moved closer, taking a seat on the sofa with her. It placed him far too close to her.

“Shall we talk terms then?” he asked, the ice blue of his gaze suddenly hardening.

“Of course.” She nodded.

She’d just as soon get this done and have it over with. Lifting the portfolio closer, she was suddenly stopped by the touch of Eldon’s hand on her wrist.

Her stomach tightened as dread began to wash over her.

“I don’t need to see the designs. They’ll be accepted if you play the game properly.”

Ahh.

Her stomach pitched alarmingly.

“Excuse me?”

His smile was oily and far too sinister.

“I think you heard me perfectly, actually,” he said softly. “We’ll enjoy a nice cup of tea; then we’ll retire to my suite. Be a nice little fuck until I grow tired of you and we’ll see about that show you want so badly.”

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Are you insane?” Had she really said that aloud?

Eldon sat back slowly, his expression tightening further, but thankfully his hand lifted from her wrist.

“You don’t want to piss me off, Ms. Mackay,” he warned her, his tone low, echoing with anger.

“I don’t?” She really didn’t, but the churning in her stomach assured her she was going to end up doing just that.

“Do you want that runway show, darling?” He stared back at her with such a chilling lack of emotion that a shudder raced down her spine.

Did she want that runway show?

She was shaking her head before she realized it and rising slowly to her feet.

“You are insane,” she decided, much calmer than she should have been while facing a madman. “Business isn’t done like that anymore.”

A mocking laugh parted his lips as he rose slowly to his feet.

“Don’t be a fool, Piper,” he warned her, his hip jutting once again, as if he hoped she’d glance at his sock-stuffed crotch.

She’d gone to high school; she knew what it looked like.

“Looks like I’m going to be a fool.” Clutching the portfolio tighter in her hands, she backed away from him.

She’d not just gone to high school; she’d been raised in East Texas, and she damned well knew better than to turn her back on a rattler.

Unfortunately, he was advancing on her.

“The opportunity of a lifetime?” he asked silkily. “You’re letting it ride right on by you.” He gave a little waving motion with his hand. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

Was she sure?

Gripping the doorknob, she turned it and pulled the door open quickly.

“Am I sure I want to tell you to shove your offer up that sock-stuffed ass of yours?” she asked archly as she escaped into the foyer.

He paused, but only for a second.

Piper saw the blow coming and only barely managed to evade it as his fist came flying out.

“Bitch!” he snarled.

“Bitch? Because I know the difference between a sock and a dick?” She sneered back at him, quickening her pace as she walked backward.

“You’ll never get out of that backwoods town where you’re hawking that shit you sew together,” he snarled, his face flushing a brilliant red as his eyes bulged to the point that they threatened to pop out of their sockets.

“And you’ll never be anything but a fake dick,” she threw back at him as Broecun entered the foyer from another room, leaned against the doorframe, and folded his arms over his chest lazily as he watched.

Asshole—he could have at least appeared surprised rather than plain amused.

“Bitch!”

She watched Eldon’s muscles bunch, knew he was going to move, and she knew she would never be able to evade the punch.

Jed was going to be pissed.

Dawg would go ballistic.

They would both travel to New York and start taking off heads if she came home with just the faintest bruise that came from a male hand.

She tried to evade it.

She jumped, tried to run, but she was too damned scared to take her eyes off him.

Just before his fist launched, it stopped.

She didn’t know who was more surprised, her or Eldon, when he found his fist suddenly captured in the hard, huge hand of Broecun.

“Get out of here, girl.” Hard, emotionless, the order was voiced without heat or any sense of warning.

Still, Piper turned and ran for the front door.

She couldn’t believe this. She couldn’t believe the chance she had dreamed of had come to this.

To lose it all because of some asshole with a sock for a dick.

FIVE

Pulling into the back lot of the rental car agency, Piper was still fuming hours later.

It was too late to be in an area that appeared deserted in New York City, and far too late to do anything but turn the car back in.

At least the cab she’d called was waiting for her.

She’d stopped to let the driver know she just had to park the car; then she’d be ready to leave.

What she hadn’t anticipated was that when she’d thrown her portfolio and her purse to the back of the car earlier, she’d also managed to knock the bag containing her morning purchases over on the back floorboard.

Rhinestones and colored crystals were scattered along the carpet, twinkling merrily beneath the interior lights as she scooped them up and threw them back into her bag without bothering to return them to the small plastic bags they’d been in when she’d bought them.

That took far too long, as far as she was concerned. The damned cab was charging by the frickin’ half minute, if she remembered her last trip to New York correctly.

She had only so much cash on her, and her own credit card was barely going to cover her hotel room. The trip was supposed to be all expenses paid, but Piper knew the type of man Eldon Vessante was now. No doubt he had already called the hotel and informed them that he wasn’t paying for anything. That meant she’d better have her own card ready and waiting when she walked through the front doors.

Tossing the last of the colored crystals and stones into her bag, Piper stepped back, slammed the door, then hurriedly locked the car before rushing back to the front of the rental agency.

Depositing the keys in the night box, she all but ran to the taxi and gave the driver the address to the hotel.

Just as the vehicle pulled out, the first raindrops began pelting the yellow-and-black vehicle.

“It’s finally raining,” the driver commented as he turned at the corner and headed for the hotel. “You in town for long?”

“Not really.” She stared straight ahead, fuming.

“Business or just a visit?” he asked then, obviously in the mood to chat.

Every cabdriver she’d ever known had spent their time either on their cell phone or talking to the company about waiting fares. This one would have to be the chatty type.

“A little of both,” she answered, staring out at the rain as she tried not to cry.

Not yet.

She’d made certain she hadn’t cried on the way back to the rental agency. God forbid she get pulled over for any reason, even this far away from home, because she knew it would take less than an hour for Somerset’s chief of police, Alex Jansen, to learn about it. What Alex knew, his wife, Janey, would be quick to find out.

And Janey, being Natches’s sister and Dawg’s cousin, would find it impossible not to tattle.

Piper should have known better. She should have known it couldn’t be this easy. She’d worked far too long and too hard for it to happen as she had imagined once she’d received that letter from S. Chaniss.

“If it walks exactly like a duck and quacks exactly like a duck, then watch out for the explosion, because no two ducks walk or quack exactly the same,” she’d once heard Dawg say with a laugh.

She should have been prepared for the explosion.

The cabdriver chatted about the rain while Piper answered where she had to. She was aware the trip back to the hotel took much longer than it had going from the hotel to the rental agency, but she always added in for the detours and “scenic routes” the cabbies took to add to the time and mileage they charged, no matter where they were.

There was only so much of a delay he could make, though. It may have seemed like hours before he was pulling into the front of the well-lit hotel, but it had actually taken no more than fifteen minutes. Which was way too long, considering it was close to midnight and the streets, with the exception of Times Square and a few other tourist-heavy areas, were all but deserted of traffic.

Pushing his fee and a larger tip than he deserved through the small opening in the divider between the passenger’s and driver’s areas, Piper stepped from the cab and moved quickly into the hotel.

“Ah, Ms. Mackay.” The young, blond receptionist caught her attention. The girl’s expression was apologetic, her pale blue gaze faintly concerned. Just as Piper expected.

“Yes?” She should have kicked Vessante while she had the chance.

“The manager would like to speak to you.” The receptionist’s smile was compassionate. “He’s coming now.”

As she stepped to the reception desk, the night manager moved from his office and slid behind the desk as Piper waited.

Stocky, his face weathered with laugh lines at the corner of his eyes, his brown gaze was concerned and compassionate. It was firm, though. He knew what he had to do, and he may hate it, but he would do it.

“My apologies, Ms. Mackay,” the manager, Charles, appeared genuinely apologetic. “I’m aware your stay was to be taken care of by another party, but.” He grimaced. “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, but I was informed before your arrival that that is no longer the case and the party is now refusing to pay.”

She couldn’t let the manager finish demanding the payment. It wasn’t his fault, and she could tell this was one part of his job he definitely didn’t like.

“I’d prefer to take care of my room myself, Charles.” She smiled back at him as relief gleamed in his gaze.

He was a nice guy; she liked him. He had checked her in during the wee hours of the morning and ensured she had a cab waiting that morning to take her shopping. He’d arranged her morning coffee and joked with her about the weather when she’d stepped into the lobby to leave for her shopping trip.

Taking her date book/planner from her purse, Piper opened it and pulled her credit card free before laying it on the gleaming marble counter in front of the young woman standing at his side.