Bridal Jeopardy. Rebecca York
that to him, the bell over the shop door jingled, and her head jerked up. Claire stepped into the shop and gave the two of them an appraising look.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice going high and sharp.
“Two men came in here. I don’t know what they wanted, except that they were going to hurt me. Then Mr....”
“Brady,” he supplied, and she knew when he said it that it wasn’t his real name. But for some reason he had decided to use it.
“Mr. Brady came in and fought with them. Then they ran away.”
Claire’s gaze swung to him, her eyes assessing. “That was lucky—your being here. But how did you know what was happening?”
“I was on my way to the po’boy shop down the block,” the man who had rescued her said. “I noticed them on the street, and they looked out of place. When I saw them come in here, I didn’t think they were planning to buy dresses.”
Claire was still staring at Stephanie and Craig as though she didn’t believe a word of what they were saying. And Stephanie silently acknowledged that they were lying—by implication, at least, about what had happened after the men had left.
Craig turned away and came down on his knees under the rack of dresses. When he stood again, he was holding a gun. “They left this,” he said to Claire.
She sucked in a sharp breath as she saw the weapon. If Claire hadn’t believed them in the first place, she would now.
“What should I do with it?” Stephanie asked.
“I’ll take it,” Craig said.
“Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“Do you want to?”
She thought about it before shaking her head, then wondered if he would accept the decision.
As she looked at him, her gaze zeroed in on the bruise that was discoloring his forehead.
“You got hurt in the fight,” she said.
“Did I?”
“Yes. Your forehead is bruised. You need ice on that.”
Glad to escape, she slipped into the back room, where she paused to run a shaky hand through her hair, thanking her lucky stars that she and Craig hadn’t been in each other’s arms when Claire had come in. That was all she needed, for someone to report back to John that she was kissing another man. Would Claire have ratted on her? She didn’t know, but she still understood that she had to be careful.
She got several ice cubes from the refrigerator, wrapped them in a paper towel, then put them into a plastic bag. She wished she didn’t have to go out there and face Craig again, but she was pretty sure he was still waiting for her in the front of the shop.
He and Claire were talking when she returned and handed him the ice pack, being careful not to touch his hand.
Something had happened between them when they touched, and she didn’t want it to happen again. At least not now.
He took the ice and pressed the package against his forehead.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Mr. Brady and I were talking. He’s in the city to get some investment advice,” Claire said.
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