He Huffed and He Puffed by Barbara Paul

good head-bashing weapon?
    He was seriously considering leaving when Jack came back—empty-handed, Strode was relieved to see. “I’m not going to let you do this,” Jack announced. “One thing you don’t know is that my brother and I are on better terms now than we’ve ever been before in our lives. Phil already knows I was at the controls when the autopilot locked. I told him so, four years ago. He’s the one who paid Billy to say he’d been piloting. And he’ll believe me when I tell him you’ve bribed Billy to accuse me of murder—just to force me to sell my House of Glass shares. Well, forget it, Strode. You’re not taking on just me but the whole McKinstry organization. You’re never going to get your hands on those shares.”
    Strode shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not very quick, are you, Jack? You don’t have the sense to know when you’re over a barrel. Do you think I’m bluffing?”
    â€œNo, and neither am I. Don’t try to bully me, Strode. I won’t let you.”
    â€œYou’re willing to risk a murder investigation rather than give in to me, is that it? What do you think’s going on here, some boys’ game?”
    â€œI think you like making people crawl. Well, not this time, old buddy. You’ll have to get your kicks somewhere else.”
    â€œYou think that’s all this is? Muscle flexing?”
    â€œWhat else? I told you before, I’m not going to let you do this to me.” Jack paused. “Now we’re going back. And you’re going to smile and act as if we’re two good buddies returning from a friendly little chat. Do it, Strode.” He started back along the way they’d come.
    Strode had no choice but to follow. He was angry; the asshole was letting his pride get in the way of his own best interests. Strode wondered if Phil McKinstry really did know his younger brother had been at the helicopter controls instead of Billy. Jack was such a glib liar that nothing he said could be taken at face value.
    The volleyball game was over. Two children were splashing in the water. Most of the players had gone into the house to shower or collapse, but a few remained on the beach. One of them, Strode was pleased to see, was the long-legged woman in the red shorts. He stopped by her and said, “That’s a vigorous game of volleyball you play.”
    She grinned at him confidently. “Good for getting the kinks out. It’s kind of hard on the younger kids, though.”
    Strode waited for Jack to introduce them, but his host remained pointedly mute. “You looked as if you were having more fun than any of the others,” Strode said to the woman. “Were you?”
    â€œProbably. I usually have fun.”
    â€œI thought so. I could tell by the way you moved. I couldn’t help but notice the way you moved.”
    She laughed the same easy laugh as Jack’s and said, “I saw you talking to Jack, Mr.…?”
    â€œStrode. Call me A. J.”
    â€œAll right, A. J. I’m Wendy.”
    Strode smiled slowly. Wend- ee .
    He was complimenting her on her service form when he felt Jack’s hand come down on his shoulder like a vise. “Hey there, A. J., my man—you’re not hittin’ on my baby sister now, are you? Won’t do you any good. She’s already spoken for.”
    â€œThat doesn’t surprise me in the least,” Strode murmured toward Wendy and was rewarded with a wink. “Maybe we’ll meet again,” he called over his shoulder as Jack firmly steered him away.
    Jack walked him up the stairway from the beach and around the house to where the limo was waiting. “If you ever so much as speak to her again,” Jack said between his teeth, big grin fixed firmly in place, “I personally am going to cut off all your toes. Do you understand?”
    Strode didn’t answer. He climbed into the