mouth shut long enough. The guy was really irritating him.
Kayla shot him another cautioning look. “Please, Paul, you’re not helping.” Again, she addressed Steven. “You’re free to do whatever you want. But I need you to leave. Now.”
“You can’t throw me off my own property.”
“We have a deal, remember? Whoever is staying up here is in charge. I’m here now. Please, just leave.”
Paul had to restrain himself from making an I’m-backing-her-up threat, but he managed to keep his mouth shut. Still, he trained his gaze on the guy in the suit, letting him know if he didn’t get his ass off the property pronto, he’d have him to deal with.
Steven’s eyes narrowed while he considered his next move. Then he said, “I’ll leave. For now. But this isn’t over,” he added, and turned to go.
As he strode briskly away, Paul followed him around the house to the driveway and, slapping the side of the hammer into the palm of his free hand several times, watched as Steven slid into a sleek Jag, gunned the motor and backed down the driveway before turning and heading down the mountain.
Shaking his head, he stalked back to where he’d left Kayla. She was still there, her hands in fists at her side, a look he hadn’t seen on her face before. She was quietly furious. He couldn’t blame her.
He shook his head again. “What a creep.”
“How dare you?” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“What gave you the right to say what you said to him? Who gave you permission?”
Paul was so taken aback by her attack, he could barely speak. He’d expected, at the least, agreement on Steven’s lousy personality; at the most, maybe a thank you or two. He had not expected to see this slender woman shaking with a silent rage aimed squarely at him.
“Well, excuse me,” he said when he managed to find the words. “I thought I was helping you.”
“By doing your caveman routine? I don’t want that. I don’t need that.”
“Listen, lady, you might think you don’t need it, but the guy was—”
She made an impatient gesture with her hand, cutting him off. “Spare me. I know how to handle Steven.”
“Didn’t look like you were doing much of a job.”
Her chin jutted out in defiance. “All right, then, I wasn’t doing much of a job. Either way, it’s my business. If you’d had your way there would have been a fight. I don’t like fights. And I don’t like men who engage in them. When and if I need your help, I’ll ask. Do you understand?”
He glared at her, all kinds of hostile responses whipping through his head, but none he would say to a woman. He ground his back teeth together and clenched and unclenched his jaw muscles several times before he was able to say, “Yes, ma’am. I most certainly do.”
Chafing at her dressing-down and his impotence to respond, he stormed off, heading for the stairs and the resumption of his chores. Damned if he’d ever come to the widow Thorne’s aid again.
In fact, he decided, he didn’t need this stupid job at all. He could find Jay Vinovich without Kayla’s help. It would be difficult; but he could do it. He’d have to, because when he was done here for the day, he was done here for good.
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