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The solid front door was closed. Jase went forward and laid his hand on the brass handle, but didn’t open it immediately, instead surveying her with an assessing gaze.
Samantha took a determined step towards the door. He’d have to open it or move out of the way.
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Inwardly Samantha was quivering, feeling exposed, naked. How could this stranger have divined in seconds her most private, well-protected secrets, without even exchanging a word or a touch? But she wouldn’t crumble under the assault.
She directed her chilliest stare into his watchful, probing eyes. Strong men had wilted under that look. “Either you’re drunk and delusional,” she said, “or you have an overactive imagination. You know nothing about me, and I certainly have no desire to know anything more about you. That you’re a boor and a bully is unfortunate for your sister, but we don’t choose our relatives. For the first time I’m grateful I don’t have brothers. Now, may I have my hat, please? I’d like to go back to the party.”
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