The Pride of Jared MacKade (The MacKade Brothers 2)

The woman who unfolded herself from the car didn't look conciliatory. She looked wild, glowing and stunning.

"Oh-oh" was all Shane said, but he rolled his eyes merrily at Rafe.

She didn't speak, but stood with her hands on her hips, scanning the four men. An audience, she thought. Even better. Didn't they all look smug and pleased with themselves just for being men?

She swaggered around to the trunk, unlocked it. The box came first. The dogs jumped and circled around her in excited greeting as she carried it to the side of the car. With a wide smile she overturned it. Several articles of clothing tumbled out. Suits, ties, shirts, socks. Still smiling, she gave the heap a couple of good solid kicks to spread things out.

Delighted, the dogs trampled over the clothes, sniffing and barking. Fred proved his recognition of Jared's scent by lifting his leg.

On the porch, four men watched in silence, with varying degrees of emotion.

Ah, Jared's favorite tie was snagged on her foot, she discovered. Eyes on his, she ground her heel into it.

Rafe grinned like a loon. Shane let out one full belly laugh. Devin watched in rapt admiration.

Jared just watched.

She wasn't finished. Not by a long shot. Back to the trunk she pulled out a leather-bound address book he'd left on the nightstand. Her smile cool, she held it open as if to demonstrate. Then tore the pages out and let them flutter onto the heap of the now dirty, dog-haired clothes.

She took out his shoes. The good Italian leather first. Holding them down for Ethel to sniff, Savannah let the first one fly, then the second, and the dogs gave grateful chase. Tennis shoes went next. Two pairs, one of which, she was delighted to note, was only two weeks old.

She hoped the dogs chewed them to shreds.

There was shaving gear to deal with. She pitched a piece here, a piece there, drawing out the event until Shane simply rolled out of his chair onto the deck of the porch, helpless with laughter.

But she'd saved the coup de grace. The wine.

There had only been one bottle open, but she'd tossed that before she left. She uncorked all three, all fine vintages, expensively French. Chin up, eyes challenging, she walked back to what was left of his clothes. She tilted her head first, darkly pleased when his eyes went to green slits. With a veteran waitress's skill, Savannah poured them out, all at once over his best suit.

Done, she let the bottles fall with a clink on the grass. Still without having uttered a word, she strolled back to the car, slid behind the wheel. With a final smile, an arrogant salute, she backed up, swung around and drove down the lane.

Other than Shane's helpless laughter, there wasn't a sound until Devin finally cleared his throat. He studied the mess on the lawn carefully, even patted Fred's head when the dog devotedly brought him one of Jared's mauled shoes.

"Well," he said at length. "I'd say she made her point, too."

"She's a spooky woman," Shane managed, mopping his streaming eyes. "I think I'm in love with her."

Because he knew what it was like to be at the mercy of his own heart, Rafe rose and slapped a hand on Jared's shoulder. "You know, Jare, you got two choices."

He was all but quivering with fury. "Which are?"

"Run like hell, or go get her. I know which one I'd choose."

Jared didn't do anything for a couple of hours. He knew himself well enough to understand that his temper could be dangerous. He worked off some steam, and worked up a sweat in the barn before washing up.

When he finally headed out, his anger was still there, but strapped in. She figured she was dumping him, he thought, like she'd dumped his things.

But she was going to figure again.

"Hey, Jare." From the side yard where he was playing tug-of-war with the dogs over one of Jared's shoes, Shane sent up a shout. "Tell Savannah we really enjoyed the show, okay?"

"Remind me to kick your butt later."

She'd humiliated him, he fumed. In front of his brothers. Seeking control, he jammed his hands into his pockets and veered toward the woods. Not to mention that she'd ruined a good portion of his wardrobe.

Thought she was damn clever, he was sure. He imagined she'd sat up half the night planning it all out. If he hadn't been the brunt of it, he'd have admired her finesse. The sheer nerve of it.

But he had been the one who took the brunt of it.