and glanced around those gathered, trying to understand why his brother was here instead of out baiting illegals on the Gulf.
A quasi-attractive woman with short, dark hair clung to a slick-suited guy. A politician, if the condescension oozing from the man spoke loud enough. An older suit joined them, vague recognition flickering through Canyon’s mind. Where had he met him before? The man moved toward a fourth person.
A woman. Long hair hung in cascades of dark brown. Thick and silky like the chocolate fountain at the big bash Lambert threw for the team last Christmas. With her back to him, Canyon couldn’t decipher age, but the thin frame was too skinny for his liking. Why women these days stayed on the gross side of skinny, he’d never get.
As soon as the older man touched her elbow, she jerked free and took a step back. Defensive posturing. Interesting.
Tension zapped the already chilled foyer. Range sucked in a quick breath.
Curiosity piqued, Canyon gauged the responses. What was going on?
“Danielle,” the man spoke to her. “I’m sorry. It’s time to go in. Are you ready?”
She glanced over her shoulder—straight at Canyon. The purest honeyed eyes he’d ever seen pierced him. Something deep inside him burned. Attractive? No. Beautiful. Stunning. But the vacancy in her expression pulled at him. He’d seen hollowed-out gazes like that before. Soldiers, dead on the bed of a helo.
Then his mind switched gears. Why were they leading her into the courtroom? The flood of information—and her locked gaze—left his mind jumbled. “Why …?” He tried to get his brain back in gear. “Why are you here?” he mumbled as he angled his head toward his brother.
“I’m here to testify,” Range said. “Remember why I missed Thanksgiving?”
Barely hearing his brother, Canyon kept his gaze on the woman. Two fresh scars pinked her forehead and chin. Maybe it wasn’t anorexia that had her thin. Starvation? His brain finally engaged with the story his brother had lamented over. At the time, Canyon felt his little brother was letting his Coastie work get to him. But now, maybe he understood his brother’s attention to the case. A woman escaping a Venezuelan rebel camp? Surely this wasn’t that woman.
A sudden slap to his gut snapped his narrowed gaze to his brother.
“I’m talking to you.”
He felt the scowl and washed it free. “Sorry.” Again he looked at the girl, but the older man herded her into the courtroom, sans touching. “Who is she?”
“Aren’t you listening? I just told you—the woman I pulled from the Caribbean over two months ago.” Range took a few steps, then pivoted toward him. “And back off.”
Canyon couldn’t help the grin. So, his little brother had his sights on the hottie, huh? “Isn’t she a bit out of your league, rich and what, twenty-five?”
“She’s only two years younger than me, and don’t do that—she’s not like the girls you date. She’s nice.”
Twenty-six, huh? A bit young but … Canyon grinned. “Isn’t Valentine’s Day soon?”
Range shook his head and closed the gap between them. “Canyon. I’m not kidding. It’s not like that.”
Chuckling, he enjoyed the torment on his brother’s face. “Really?”
“She’s been through more than enough.” Range stuffed his fingers against Canyon’s chest and nudged him back. “This isn’t a game. Leave her alone.” A warning hung in the stale, air-conditioned air. “I mean it.”
Surprise wove through him. Range hadn’t gone serious over a girl since the high school fallout. There was something his little brother wasn’t telling.
Range sighed, then furrowed his brow. “Why are
you
here?”
Unfortunately Nightshade-related activities were eyes only. “Consultation.” He patted his brother’s shoulder and stalked into the courtroom, showing his ID to the guard.
Canyon planted himself in a chair in the far corner of the balcony, lower level. From this angle he had a perfect line
A quasi-attractive woman with short, dark hair clung to a slick-suited guy. A politician, if the condescension oozing from the man spoke loud enough. An older suit joined them, vague recognition flickering through Canyon’s mind. Where had he met him before? The man moved toward a fourth person.
A woman. Long hair hung in cascades of dark brown. Thick and silky like the chocolate fountain at the big bash Lambert threw for the team last Christmas. With her back to him, Canyon couldn’t decipher age, but the thin frame was too skinny for his liking. Why women these days stayed on the gross side of skinny, he’d never get.
As soon as the older man touched her elbow, she jerked free and took a step back. Defensive posturing. Interesting.
Tension zapped the already chilled foyer. Range sucked in a quick breath.
Curiosity piqued, Canyon gauged the responses. What was going on?
“Danielle,” the man spoke to her. “I’m sorry. It’s time to go in. Are you ready?”
She glanced over her shoulder—straight at Canyon. The purest honeyed eyes he’d ever seen pierced him. Something deep inside him burned. Attractive? No. Beautiful. Stunning. But the vacancy in her expression pulled at him. He’d seen hollowed-out gazes like that before. Soldiers, dead on the bed of a helo.
Then his mind switched gears. Why were they leading her into the courtroom? The flood of information—and her locked gaze—left his mind jumbled. “Why …?” He tried to get his brain back in gear. “Why are you here?” he mumbled as he angled his head toward his brother.
“I’m here to testify,” Range said. “Remember why I missed Thanksgiving?”
Barely hearing his brother, Canyon kept his gaze on the woman. Two fresh scars pinked her forehead and chin. Maybe it wasn’t anorexia that had her thin. Starvation? His brain finally engaged with the story his brother had lamented over. At the time, Canyon felt his little brother was letting his Coastie work get to him. But now, maybe he understood his brother’s attention to the case. A woman escaping a Venezuelan rebel camp? Surely this wasn’t that woman.
A sudden slap to his gut snapped his narrowed gaze to his brother.
“I’m talking to you.”
He felt the scowl and washed it free. “Sorry.” Again he looked at the girl, but the older man herded her into the courtroom, sans touching. “Who is she?”
“Aren’t you listening? I just told you—the woman I pulled from the Caribbean over two months ago.” Range took a few steps, then pivoted toward him. “And back off.”
Canyon couldn’t help the grin. So, his little brother had his sights on the hottie, huh? “Isn’t she a bit out of your league, rich and what, twenty-five?”
“She’s only two years younger than me, and don’t do that—she’s not like the girls you date. She’s nice.”
Twenty-six, huh? A bit young but … Canyon grinned. “Isn’t Valentine’s Day soon?”
Range shook his head and closed the gap between them. “Canyon. I’m not kidding. It’s not like that.”
Chuckling, he enjoyed the torment on his brother’s face. “Really?”
“She’s been through more than enough.” Range stuffed his fingers against Canyon’s chest and nudged him back. “This isn’t a game. Leave her alone.” A warning hung in the stale, air-conditioned air. “I mean it.”
Surprise wove through him. Range hadn’t gone serious over a girl since the high school fallout. There was something his little brother wasn’t telling.
Range sighed, then furrowed his brow. “Why are
you
here?”
Unfortunately Nightshade-related activities were eyes only. “Consultation.” He patted his brother’s shoulder and stalked into the courtroom, showing his ID to the guard.
Canyon planted himself in a chair in the far corner of the balcony, lower level. From this angle he had a perfect line
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