CHAPTER 2
There was something to be said for the power of the Ruban name. It had gotten Casey and Ryder through blood tests without an appointment, gotten a court clerk out of bed and down to the county courthouse in the middle of the night to issue a marriage license, then dragged an old family friend out of bed before sunrise to perform the impromptu ceremony. The waiting period most people would have experienced was waived for Delaney Ruban’s granddaughter.
“You all take yourselves a seat now,” Sudie Harris said, and pulled her housecoat a little tighter across her chest. “Judge will be here directly.”
Casey dropped into the nearest chair, well aware that Harmon Harris’s wife had taken one look at Ryder Justice and found him lacking in both worth and substance. When Ryder refused a seat and walked to the window instead, something about the way he was standing made her nervous. What if he was already sorry he’d gotten into this mess? What if he was thinking about leaving? Nervously, she got up.
“Mr. Justice, I—”
He turned and she choked on her words. He was so big. So menacing. So much a stranger. What in God’s name had she done?
“What did you call me?” he asked.
She swallowed and the lump in her throat seemed to be getting larger by the minute. Oh, Lord. “Ryder. I meant to say, Ryder.”
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Casey Ruban was on the verge of a breakdown. She might not know it, but he recognized the signs. Her eyes were feverishly bright and the knuckles on her fingers had gone from red to white from the fists that she’d made. Add to that, a breathing pattern that was little more than a series of short, quick gasps, and he figured it wouldn’t take much for her to fall apart.
“That’s better,” he said shortly. “Now sit down before you fall down.”
Casey did as she was told and then tried not to look at his backside as he turned away. It was impossible. In a few short minutes she would be tied to this man as she’d never been bound before, not only by law, but in the closest of proximities. Wife! Dear God, she was going to be that man’s wife.
She watched as he shrugged his shoulders in a quiet, almost weary gesture, rubbing at his neck and massaging the muscles with long, brown fingers. She couldn’t quit staring at his hands. Out of nowhere a random thought came barreling into her sleep-starved mind. I wonder if he’s a gentle lover.
Startled, she shuddered and looked away, wishing Judge Harris would hurry. She doubted there was little about Ryder Justice that was gentle, and the tension between them was making her crazy.
Tom between the fear that she was jumping into a worse mess than the one she was already in, and fear that at the last minute he wouldn’t go through with the ceremony, she wanted to cry. Instead, she closed her eyes. All I want to do is go to bed and sleep for a month, then wake up and find out this was all a bad dream, she thought.
Somewhere in another part of the house a clock chimed five times. Startled, she glanced at her watch. Five o’clock! In a little over an hour the sun would be up. Footsteps sounded on the stairwell behind them. She stood and turned to face the man who was entering the room.
From Harmon Harris’s expression, he was none too pleased to see who awaited him. “Casey Dee, what on earth are you doin’ here in the middle of the night?”
“Getting married, and it’s not the middle of the night, it’s almost dawn.”
Regardless of whether it was night or day, Ruban women did not sneak around to get married, and Harmon knew it. He stared at the man near his living room window, then glared at Casey.
“Not to him?”
She gritted her teeth, preparing herself for a fight.
“Yes sir, to him. We have blood tests and the license right here.” She thrust the papers into the judge’s hands.
When he noted the dates he frowned, staring at her hard and long, from her head to the middle of her belly. Like Ryder before him, Harmon was assuming the only reason a woman would rush into marriage was to give a bastard child a name.
“Hell, girl, the ink is hardly dry on this stuff. What’s the big rush?”
“You can get that look off your face,” Casey muttered. “I’m not pregnant. I haven’t even been exposed.”
Bushy eyebrows lowered over his prominent nose as Harmon Harris laid the papers to one side and took Casey by the arm.
“I’ve known you a long time, Honey, and this isn’t like you. Before I perform any ceremony, I want an explanation.”
Casey’s gaze never wavered. “If Delaney were alive, you could ask him yourself. All I know is, I had forty-eight hours to find myself a husband or forfeit my inheritance to Miles and Erica.”
The judge’s eyebrows rose perceptibly. “You’re joking!”
Her shoulders slumped. “I wish I were.”
He glanced over her shoulder to Ryder. “I don’t understand.”
Then his voice lowered. “Why not marry Lash Marlow? You’ve known him nearly all your life. Why this man?”
“Because he’s not Lash.”
The judge didn’t comment. He didn’t have to. Casey’s answer pretty much said it all.
“Who is he?”
“His name is Ryder Justice.”
“I know that,” the judge said. “It says so on the papers. What I’m asking is who are his people?”
Casey shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea, and quite frankly I don’t care. What I do know is I will not be coerced, especially by a dead man, into marrying someone I do not even like, never mind the fact that I don’t love him. Do you understand that?”
Suddenly Casey and Harmon realized they were no longer alone.
“Is there a problem?” Ryder asked.
There was something about the look on the big man’s face that made Harmon Harris release his grasp on Casey’s arms.
Harmon sighed. “No, I don’t suppose there is. Casey is of age and enough of her own woman to do as she chooses.” He turned. “Sudie, go next door and wake up Millard Shreves. We’re gonna need ourselves another witness.”
Casey relaxed as Judge Harris’s wife hurried to do his bidding. It was going to be all right.
“It will take Millard a bit to get out of bed,” the judge explained. “If you two want to freshen up before the ceremony, the guest bath is down the hall on your right. However, you’re going to have to excuse me for a bit. I’m going to be needing some coffee.”
Having put the wheels in motion, he left Casey and Ryder alone in the Harris parlor with Sudie’s crocheted doilies and silk flower bouquets.
Casey put a hand to her hair, feeling the disarray. She started to the bathroom for a quick wash then remembered Ryder. Was it safe to leave him alone, or would he bolt at the first chance he got? She glanced back at him, and to her dismay realized he was watching her. It was almost as if he’d read her mind.
“Go on,” he said. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
There was something compelling about this man, something she couldn’t quite name. There was a strength within him that a couple of days’ worth of whiskers and a faded T-shirt and jeans could not hide. Right now his eyes seemed blue, although at first they’d seemed gray. Their color was as changeable as the weather. She hoped his disposition did not seesaw as well and knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it. Although she was afraid of what he might tell her, there was something she needed to know.
“Why did you agree to go along with this madness?”
His expression hardened. “Don’t dig too deep, Casey. You might find worms in the dirt you’re taking out of the hole.”
Startled, she pivoted and headed for the bathroom, telling herself it was exhaustion that was making her shake, and not the implied warning in his words.
* * *
“…pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.”
Judge Harris’s clock began to chime.
Once. Twice. Three times it sounded.
Casey exhaled slowly.
Four times. Five times. Six times the gong echoed within the silence of the room.
She went limp, and were it not for the firm grip Ryder had on her arm, she wouldn’t have been able to stand. But she’d done it. It was over! The Ruban empire was safe, but dear God, could she say the same about herself?
“Congratulations. You may kiss your bride,” Harmon added, although he doubted, considering the reasons for the ceremony, there was much to celebrate.
Both Ryder and Casey stared, first at Judge Harris who’d just granted permission for something neither had been prepared to act upon, then at each other as they contemplated the deed.
To Casey’s dismay, her vision blurred.
Ryder had intended on holding his ground until he saw her tears. It was her weakness, rather than the bulldog determination with which she’d gotten them this far, that made him do what he did next. He’d entered into this farce without giving a thought for consequences, much the same way he used to go through life. But that was before he’d killed his father and lost his nerve to fly.
Intending only to assure her, he cupped her cheek with the palm of one hand, gentling her much in the same way his brother, Royal, tended the horses on his ranch, giving them time to adjust to his presence.
“Easy, now,” he said softly, and when he felt her pulse beginning to slow, he lowered his head.
Casey saw him coming. Her lips parted. Whether it was to voice an objection or to ease his way, Ryder didn’t know and didn’t care. His focus was on her mouth and the woman who now bore his name.
Casey’s breath caught at the back of her throat and this time, had Ryder not been holding her up, her legs would have given way. Whatever her intent had been, it stopped along with her heart when Ryder Justice kissed his wife.
It should have been awkward—their first joining—but it wasn’t. The ease with which they touched, then the gentleness with which the kiss deepened felt right, even familiar. At the point of embracing, the judge’s voice broke their connection.
“Well, now,” he said, and made no attempt to hide a yawn. “I suppose you two are as hitched as a couple can be.”
When Ryder moved away, Casey felt a sudden sense of loss, and then reality intruded and she felt nothing but dismay. She had no intentions of pursuing the intimate part of a marriage and the sooner Ryder Justice realized that, the better off they would be. She stepped back, then turned away, unwilling to let him see how deeply she’d been affected by what he’d done.
“It served its purpose,” she said shortly, and started looking for her purse. “What do I owe you?”
While she was fumbling for cash, Ryder was dealing with uneasiness of his own. The kiss was supposed to have been nothing but a formality. He hadn’t expected to feel anything because it had been months since he’d allowed himself the luxury. But something had happened to him between the time her breath had brushed his cheek and their point of contact. Left with nothing but a lingering dissatisfaction he couldn’t identify, he, too, turned away. It was almost as if he’d left something undone. He hadn’t been prepared for what the kiss had evoked—what it felt like to hold someone close, the pleasure that comes from lying in a willing woman’s arms.
He inhaled slowly and considered the woman who was now his wife, if in name only. He had agreed to marry her and no matter what, he was a man of his word. But he didn’t want to like her. There was already a time limit on their relationship. God forbid his feelings should ever go deeper.
Casey said something that made the judge laugh and Ryder turned to see what was funny. Instead of an answer, he found himself watching as Casey peeled five twenty-dollar bills from a wad of cash in her handbag and handed them to the judge. He frowned, then looked away, uncomfortable with the fact that a woman was paying his way for anything, and more than a little bit anxious as to how he was supposed to fit into her life. He had already suspected she came from money. Her car and her clothes had given her away, and the money she stuffed back in her purse only confirmed his suspicions.
For the first time since he’d run away, he thought about what he’d left behind, yet not once did he consider confessing his true background and identity to Casey.
She thought she’d married a burn, a no-account drifter without a penny to his name. His eyes narrowed as he stared out into the burgeoning dawn. Part of it was true. He didn’t have two quarters with him that he could rub together. At this point, the fact that he owned four airplanes and a helicopter, and that his charter service had been in the black for nearly eleven years didn’t matter. Nor did the fact that the deed to nearly fourteen hundred acres of prime real estate on the outskirts of San Antonio was in his name.
Sick at heart from an accident he couldn’t forget, he’d walked away from it all. Things of monetary value had become unimportant to Ryder. If he could have, he would have given up everything just to have his father back alive and well.
But there would be no trading with God… or the devil. Micah Justice was dead and buried, and no matter how far Ryder went, he couldn’t outrun his guilt.
Someone cleared their throat. He looked up. It would seem that Sudie was patiently waiting to lock them out. Casey held the front door ajar. Her posture and the tone of her voice gave away her impatience.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked.
Something inside him snapped. The quiet in which he’d encompassed himself over the past few months suddenly seemed too confining. Sarcasm colored his answer.
“I don’t know, Mrs. Justice, are you?”
Her bossy, managerial attitude disappeared like air out of a punctured balloon. He had the satisfaction of seeing her pale as he walked past her and out the door.
* * *
The air was muggy, a promise of another long, hot July day. Sweat was already rolling down the middle of Casey’s back and there was a snag in her stockings. Since yesterday when she’d made her exit from Lash’s office, her hairdo had been windblown and finger-combed a dozen times. The last time she remembered putting on makeup was right before she’d gotten out of the car to go into the office for the reading of the will. She felt like hell and figured she looked a shade or two worse. She was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get home and into a bed.
But thirty minutes outside of Ruban Crossing, Casey’s plans were about to change. The flashing red-and-blue lights of a Mississippi highway patrol were an unwelcome addition to the events of the day. She had expected complications, but not quite so soon, or from the state police. She looked at Ryder, then began pulling over to the side of the road.
“I wasn’t speeding,” she said.
Ryder glanced over his shoulder, then started unbuckling his seat belt. The highway patrolman was already out of his vehicle with his gun drawn, and although the air conditioner was on and Casey’s car windows were up, they could hear him shouting for them to get out of the car.
“I don’t think that’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?” Casey asked, and turned. There was a gun pointed straight at her head.
“Get out of the car!” the patrolman shouted again. “Do it! Do it now!”
Stunned by the order, Casey began fumbling with her seat belt, but couldn’t seem to find the catch. The harder she tried, the worse her fingers shook, and the longer she delayed, the louder and more insistent the officer became.
“Let me,” Ryder said, and to her relief, the latch gave way, freeing her from the straps.
She opened the door. “Look, Officer, I don’t know what…”
“Get out and put your hands on the hood of the car! You!” he shouted, pointing the gun at Ryder. “On the passenger side! Come around the front of the car with your hands in the air!”
Ryder didn’t argue. He’d learned years ago never to argue with an armed man, especially one wearing a badge.
By now, Casey was out of the car and furious. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Handcuffs snapped. First one on her right wrist, then the remaining cuff on her other.
“Sit down,” the officer ordered, pushing Casey none too gently to a seat beside the rear wheel of her car before proceeding to cuff Ryder in the same smooth manner. He hauled Ryder off to the back seat of his patrol car and shut him inside while Casey watched in disbelief.
“This better be good,” Casey said, as the officer returned and helped her to her feet.
“You’re driving a stolen car and the woman who owns it has been reported missing.”
Casey couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I am not missing, and this is my car.”
The officer took a long, slow look at the disheveled woman in black and didn’t bother to hide a smirk.
“That car belongs to Casey Ruban. Her family reported her missing when she didn’t come home last night.”
“I repeat, this is my car, and I didn’t go home because I was out getting myself married,” she said.
“Excuse me?” the officer asked.
She closed her eyes, counted to ten, then glared at the patrolman, derisively enunciating each syllable.
“Married. Capital m—little a—double r—i—e—d…Maaried. Last night…no, actually it was early this morning that we got married. You might say I’ve been on my honeymoon and you…” she frowned against the glare of early morning sun, peering at the name tag on the front of his uniform “…Officer Howard, have just stuffed my groom in the back of your patrol car. I want him out, and I want the handcuffs taken off both of us now, or I swear to God I will have your badge and all that goes with it.”
Her adamancy startled the cop, and for the first time since he’d pulled them over, he began to consider the possibility of having been wrong in his first assumption. But he’d been so focused on being the one to get a lead on the missing heir that he hadn’t followed protocol by asking for their identification first.
“I’ll need to see some identification,” he said.
“It’s in my purse in the front seat, along with a copy of my marriage license. Want to see that, too?”
He unlocked her cuffs and opened the door. “No funny business,” he said shortly, as Casey leaned inside.
She handed him the marriage license, her driver’s license, as well as the title to her car. “There’s nothing funny about any of this, and when I get home, I’m going to have someone’s hide for this.”
The officer looked long and hard at the picture on the driver’s license and then at Casey. There was little resemblance between the cool, composed woman in the picture and the fiery-eyed hellion standing before him.
Casey could see he still wasn’t buying her explanation, but she wasn’t about to explain the mess she was in, thanks to her grandfather’s will. She opted for something he would probably believe.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Casey snapped. “I’ve been on my honeymoon, okay? You try a wedding night in the back seat of a car and see how good you look!”
The patrolman flushed with embarrassment as he began to realize the seriousness of his situation. Unless he made peace with this woman now, he could be in big trouble. The Ruban name carried a lot of clout.
“Sorry, Miss Ruban…I mean uh…”
“Justice,” Casey said. “The name is Justice.” She pointed toward the cruiser. “About my husband…”
Moments later, Ryder found himself standing by the side of the road, watching as an officer of the law did everything but crawl as an excuse for his overzealous behavior.
“Thank you for being so understanding,” the officer said, as Casey brushed at the dirt on the back of her dress.
“We’ll call it even if you just don’t notify my family,” she said. “I want to surprise them on my own.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll just call this in to headquarters so you won’t be stopped again.”
“Fine,” she said, and didn’t bother to watch as he drove away. When she glanced up at Ryder, he was grinning.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“You’re hell on wheels, aren’t you, wife?”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, and slammed herself bodily into the seat behind the wheel.
Ryder was still grinning when he took the seat beside her. “Want me to drive?” he asked. “After all, I’m going to be your chauffeur.”
Her bottom lip slid slightly forward as she started the car, leaving the side of the road in a flurry of flying dust and gravel.
“I guess not,” Ryder drawled, and then settled back into the passenger seat. The longer he was around this woman, the more he liked her. She reminded him a little bit of his brother, Roman, who chose to believe that laws and rules were made by men with too much time on their hands.
* * *
There was a pasty white sheen on Lash Marlow’s face as he hung up the phone. He glanced at the clock over the mantel and swiped a shaky hand through his hair. It was almost noon. Time was running out.
His thoughts were jumbled as he considered the possibilities of where Casey might be. Damn Delaney for insisting on that forty-eight hour time frame. He’d told him from the start it wasn’t a good idea, but Delaney had insisted, claiming he knew his granddaughter better than anyone. He’d sworn she would never adhere to the terms of the will unless pushed.
Lash felt sick. It seemed obvious that he and Delaney Ruban had pushed too much.
“Any news?” Eudora asked, and not for the first time wished she’d sat beside her youngest granddaughter during the reading of the will. She was still convinced she might have been able to soften the blow Casey had received. If she had, maybe they wouldn’t have spent a sleepless night expecting the worst.
Lash shook his head and reached for another antacid. Instead, his fingers closed around the rabbit’s foot in his pocket, and he rubbed it lightly, making a bet with himself that everything would be all right.
Taking comfort from his superstitious gesture, he decided to forego the antacid. It probably wouldn’t help anyway. He was long past worry and far past panic. From the way his gut was burning, he was either starting a new ulcer or about to have a heart attack. He’d expected Casey to be difficult, but he hadn’t expected this. If she didn’t show up soon, it would be too late.
Miles lounged near the window overlooking the tennis courts, contemplating the party he would throw when he got his hands on the money. He was sick and tired of pretending to be worried about Casey. As far as he was concerned, she could stay gone. For the past six years, even if she was his sister, she’d been nothing but a judgmental little bitch, always harping at him and Erica to get jobs of their own.
Eudora paced back and forth, fanning herself with a dampened handkerchief. “I just can’t bear this suspense. Oh dear. Oh dear.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “Oh, let it rest, Grandmother. She’ll come home when it suits her.”
Eudora frowned as she fanned, although the small square of fabric did little to stir the air. “I’m just sick about this. What if something awful has happened?” When no one echoed her concern, she sank into a nearby chair, dabbing at her eyes. “Poor, dear Casey.”
“Poor, dear Casey, my ass,” Erica muttered, and sloshed a liberal helping of Jack Daniel’s into her iced tea and sat down near her twin. Ice clinked against crystal as she swirled the liquid before lifting the glass to her mouth.
Lash glanced at his watch and dug his own handkerchief from his pocket, mopping at a fine line of perspiration that kept breaking out across his brow. Time was running out. If she didn’t show soon, his worst fears would be realized. Miles and Erica would be in control of the Ruban fortune and Lash’s dreams to resurrect the Marlow estate to its former glory would be dashed. At this moment he didn’t know whom he hated worse—Delaney for causing the fuss, or Miles for the possum-eating grin he’d been wearing all day.
Never one to let a good silence extend itself, Eudora tucked her handkerchief into her cleavage and rang a small bell near her chair.
Moments later a tall, dark-skinned man dressed in virgin whites entered the room. Still straight and handsome at sixty, the only evidence of Joshua Bass’s age was the liberal dusting of gray in his hair.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Eudora pointed toward a nearby table. “Joshua, we’re all out of tea.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He picked up the tray and started out of the room when Eudora remembered.
“Oh, Joshua!”
He paused. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Have Tilly put some lemon in the tea this time. I do believe lemon helps cut the miasma of July.”
Casey entered on the tail of Eudora’s order, countermanding it with one of her own. She took the tray out of Joshua’s hands and set it down, then to the continuing dismay of her family, gave him a huge, breathless hug, which he gladly returned.
Casey smiled up at Joshua, taking comfort in the love she saw there in his eyes. “Forget the tea, Joshie. Bring a bottle of Delaney’s best champagne instead. We’re going to toast my marriage.”
Joshua looked startled, and his first thought was what his Tilly was going to say. Casey was as close to their hearts as if she’d been born of their blood and here she was about to drink to a marriage they knew she didn’t want.
Miles’s face turned an angry red. Erica choked on a piece of ice, and Eudora clasped her hands to her throat and started to cry.
As for Lash, he went weak with relief. Not only was Casey back, but she seemed willing to celebrate their upcoming union with no remorse. He went toward her with outstretched hands.
“Casey, darling, I’m so glad you…”
And that was the moment they realized Casey had not come alone. The unexpected face of a stranger at Casey’s back, never mind his trail-weary appearance, startled them all into sudden silence.
“Everyone…this is Ryder Justice.” She glanced at Ryder. To her surprise, he seemed calm, almost disinterested. “Ryder—my family.” She pointed them out, one by one, starting with Eudora. “This is my Gran.” She glanced at Miles and Erica and the expressions on their faces said it all. She sighed. Some things never change. “The two beautiful blondes with the fabulous scowls are my brother and sister, Miles and Erica.”
As she smiled at Joshua, her voice softened. “And this is Joshua Bass. He and his wife, Tilly, helped raise me.”
Ryder nodded. “It’s a pleasure, sir,” he said quietly. “And, I’d say you and your wife have done a fine job. Casey is quite a woman.”
She gave Ryder a quick look of surprise. The praise was unexpected.
Joshua grinned, pleased to have been recognized as part of the family.
“Casey, really! He’s one of the help,” Eudora said, and then flushed, embarrassed that she’d been put in the position of having to remark upon the differences in their stations in life.
Casey’s chin jutted. “Unlike the majority of this family, Joshua has a job. I have a job as well. I fail to see the difference.” Then she softened her rebuke by winking at Joshua. “Joshie, hurry and bring that champagne. We have some celebrating to do.”
Lash had more on his mind than sipping champagne and social niceties. He glanced at his watch. There were a million things to do and so little time.
“Casey, dearest, we’ve been so worried. When you didn’t come home last night I even called the state police. We all realize the will came as a terrible shock to you, but if you’d just waited a bit, I could have saved you from all this turmoil. You know how I feel about you. It was only a matter of time before you came to your senses and did what was best for everyone.”
When he reached for her hand, Casey took an instinctive step back, right into Ryder’s arms.
“Easy,” Ryder said softly, and Casey shivered. That was what he’d said earlier, right before he’d kissed her.
“I don’t need saving,” she told Lash. “And I’ve already come to my senses. I saved myself.”
A nerve jerked at the side of Lash’s eye, causing it to twitch. “What do you mean?”
Although Ryder was no longer touching Casey, she knew he was still behind her, and, oddly enough, it was his solid presence that gave her the courage to say what had to be said. She pulled the copy of their marriage license from her purse and handed it to Lash without batting an eye.
“Ryder and I were married this morning. I suppose you’ll need this to confirm the legalities and finalize the edicts of the will.”
“Married?”
The shriek came from across the room. Casey wasn’t sure whether it was Miles or Erica who’d come undone, and she didn’t much care.
The paper fell from Lash’s fingers and onto the floor as shock spread across his face. Speech was impossible. All he could do was stare at the woman who’d dashed his last hopes. She seemed calm, even smug about what she’d done, and as he looked, he began to hate.
At this point, Joshua came back into the room with an uncorked bottle of champagne and a tray full of glasses. Casey took it from his hands.
“I’ll pour while you go get Tilly. This won’t be official until you two are in on my news. Also, will you please tell Bea to get the apartment over the garage ready. When it’s cleaned, have someone move my things out there, okay?”
Joshua left with an anxious glance.
“Why on earth would you be doing such a thing?” Eudora asked.
Before Casey could respond, Ryder stepped to her side. For a moment, Casey had the sensation of what it would be like to never stand alone against this family again.
His voice was cool, his manner calm and assured. “Because a wife lives with her husband, and as of yesterday, I’m your new chauffeur, that’s why.”
Miles’s snort of disbelief was echoed by his sister. “My God, Casey, marrying some ne’er-do-well is bad enough, but a chauffeur? Have you no shame?”
Ryder’s expression underwent a remarkable change, from calm to quiet fury. He never took his eyes from Miles. “I don’t care if he is your brother—do not expect me to like that little pig.”
Casey almost laughed. The look of shock on her brothers’s face was priceless.
“You don’t have to,” she said, and then felt obligated to add, “but you can’t hurt him.”
Ryder gave Miles another cool stare, then took the champagne Casey handed him. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat,” he drawled, and gave Miles a cool, studied look. Then he lifted the glass toward her in a silent toast, pinning Casey with a stormy gaze that left her stunned.
“To justice,” he said, letting them decide for themselves what he’d meant.