Without meaning to retreat, she took another step back until the information desk counter bit into the small of her back. “Um, thanks but no.”
His fingers clamped around her elbow like a vice. “Oh, come on now. Just a friendly drink.”
This wasn't the first time she'd had to deal with pushy men at these conferences. They assumed that taking off their wedding rings would make women fall at their feet. Jerks. They were the morons who were the butt of every dishonest lawyer joke told since the dawn of time.
Accidentally on purpose, Beth stepped on the toe of his black shoe and leaned all of her weight into it. “I said no thank you.”
The man laughed softly, but his smile disappeared. “I'm afraid you don't understand.”
“Oh, I think I do. Your wife is at home, probably raising your two-point-five kids mainly on her own, while you jet off to conferences where you accost the waitresses and hit on every female attorney under fifty. Look. I'm not interested.”
He took a step forward and something close to overwhelming panic skidded across her skin. She'd never seen him before but somehow he tripped the alarm bells in her head.
“So sorry to make you wait, ma'am. Is there something I can help you with?”
Beth turned her head at the no-nonsense tone of the hotel attendant at the information desk. The woman had addressed her, but was staring holes into the man.
Grateful for the backup, she smiled at the woman whose arms were crossed in front of her chest. Over the woman's right shoulder, she spotted two people who looked as if they hadn't showered in two days. She'd never been so glad to see them in her life.
“Sam! Chris!”
Claire's older brothers looked up and changed course, making it to her side in a few strides of their long legs. At the brother's approach, the stranger disappeared, melting into the crowd milling down the fake Parisian street, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
She sent the attendant a grin. “Actually, I found what I was looking for.”
“Mmm, mmm, mmm.” The woman shook her head. “I'd tell you to hit the tables, but it looks like you already hit the jackpot.”
Glancing up at the Layton brothers towering over her, she tried to look at them with a fresh perspective. Even with the bags under his eyes, Chris couldn't hide the good humor in their Layton-family-hazel depths. Tall and good-looking with sandy brown hair and thick biceps, most women would be a little bit in love just at the sight of him. Her heart didn't even hiccup. As for Sam, well, he was the Adam Cartwright of the family—tall, dark and mostly silent. Serious as a heart attack, he leveled the same no-nonsense stare at her that sent his history students at Cather College scurrying.
Meeting his gaze, she sighed. He didn't do it for her either. Nope. Only Hank had ever made her stomach dive bomb to her toes.
“Everything okay?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, just an idiot who forgot he was married.”
Chris held out his arm for her. “Come on. Let's go grab something to eat before I drop. I'm half dead from keeping up with Sam at the poker table last night.”
“Little brother, I took it easy on you and you still couldn't keep up with me. You're just lucky that waitress nailed that guy in the head with her drink tray. Otherwise, you'd owe me even more of your millions in lottery winnings. Another couple of hours and you'd be in hock to me for some serious money.”
“You wish.” Pulling her hand through the crook of his arm, Chris headed toward one of the buffets.
Beth dug her heels in. “Sorry guys, but I can't join you. I have to find Hank. Have you seen him?”
Glancing back at the empty business center window, she wanted to stomp her foot. Sarah Jane must have left while she'd been distracted.
“Seen? No, but he called us from some Elvis place to keep you company until he got back. His cellphone had died and he couldn’t remember your number. What’s that about?” Chris asked.
Back? What was Hank up to? She checked her watch. She had two hours before the next conference panel about trust beneficiaries. Plenty of time. “It's a long story, I'll tell you at lunch.”
“Good, and I'll tell you about how Sam couldn't tear his eyes away from the tattooed waitress long enough to figure out what cards he was holding. For such a boring stiff big brother, you sure do like 'em a little on the wild side. Who would've ever thought?”
True to form, Sam harrumphed and headed toward the buffet.
Chris didn't bother to keep his voice down. “It was an electric-blue dragon tattoo so big it barely fit on her upper arm. Hot. Very, very hot.”
As they walked, a pair of yellow shoes in a shop window caught Beth's attention. Slowing her pace and looking closer, he gaze wandered over to the stranger’s reflection in the window. He wasn’t standing close to her but his cold and assessing image sent a shiver down her spine and she stopped dead in her tracks. He made a gun with his fingers and pointed directly at her.
Blood pounding in her ears, she spun around and searched for him in the crowd, but he'd disappeared as if he'd never been there.