A Cowboy in Manhattan(64)

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“At a civilized gathering, you can’t just beat people up because they annoy you.”

Reed stepped closer, his voice low but no less menacing. “He tried to hurt you. He did hurt you. He sabotaged your shoe.”

“We’ve been through that. It doesn’t make sense.” She wasn’t going to let the fear in.

“It makes perfect sense. Elizabeth said the board replaced every pair of your shoes.”

“So what?”

“It was a board decision. Foster tampered with the others and—”

“Stop right there. He’s an opportunistic jerk, but that’s it. And I could have handled it myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.”

“Why? Because you fix things?”

“Because he doesn’t get to do that to you. Nobody does. I confronted him. I warned him. And he ignored me.”

“Did he confess?”

“No. But I looked him in the eyes—”

“And you shook his hand? And you’re such an oracle when it comes to judging people that you felt entitled to try and convict him without a shred of evidence?”

“He did it, Katrina.”

She closed her eyes and counted to five. There was a broader point.

“This isn’t Colorado, Reed.”

He coughed out a laugh. “No kidding.”

“Can you at least take this seriously?”

“I am taking this seriously.”

She poked a finger against his chest. “This isn’t the Wild West.”

Reed didn’t answer, simply set his jaw.

“You threatened to hurt him,” she accused.

“I did not.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I heard you.” There was no other explanation.

A beat went past, and then another, before Reed finally spoke. “I didn’t threaten to hurt him. I threatened to kill him.”

Katrina staggered back.

She couldn’t have heard right. Reed had seemed so urbane these past few days, so civilized. He knew how to order a good wine. He was intelligent, well-read. He could make small talk with just about anyone. But it was all a facade.

“So, that’s it?” she croaked through an aching throat, more to herself than to him.

“What’s it?” he asked.

“You. Underneath it all, you’re still just an uncouth Colorado cowboy.”

He didn’t flinch. “I’ll always be an uncouth Colorado cowboy.”

Her stomach cramped in pain. This had all gone so horribly wrong. “I should have listened to you,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You should have listened to me.”

She felt tears build again, hot and heavy, trapped behind her eyes, making her voice quaver. “You tried to warn me.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Katrina.” His eyes were storm-cloud gray. “The last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt you.”

“Well, you did.”

“I know.”

“You have to leave.” She was going to break down any second. She fought her anguish with anger. “Leave now. Leave New York City. Go back to those sawdust-covered honky-tonks where guys like you can make a point with your fists.”

“I’ll take you home.” He reached out his hand.

“No.” She determinedly shook her head, backing away. “I’m not going home. I’m going back to the party.”

He jerked up his chin. “Oh, no, you aren’t.”

But she had no choice. “I can face them now, or I can face them tomorrow. And I want to get this over with.”

“I meant you can’t go back to Foster. He’s still inside.”

“I can deal with him.”

“No, you can’t.”

Katrina felt a red haze form inside her brain. “This is my problem, Reed. It’s my life. You need to leave now.”

There was no way he was going to agree. She could see his intense frustration. She could see him considering options. She was suddenly frightened that he might haul her bodily from the hotel for her own good.

She took another step back, quickly turning away, pacing as fast as she could toward the ballroom.