“How much will it cost to make you walk away? I know there’s a price.”

James’s lips curved, pleased with his jab. Gabriel only tilted his head.

“How much do you have?” he asked.

James pulled out a wad of bills. “Will five hundred do it?”

“I believe so.”

Gabriel pocketed the money and walked away. I smiled and shook my head.

“You’re okay with that?” James said as Gabriel left. “Your lawyer just took money to leave you alone with me.”

“You offered it,” I said. “It’s not as if he turned me over to a potential mugger. Now, what—?”

Gabriel returned and stepped between me and James again.

“Second thoughts?” James said. “I’ll take my money back.”

“Certainly not. I did as you asked. I walked away.”

I had to laugh.

James scowled at me. “You find this amusing?”

“Yes, I do. However, at the risk of losing further amusement, I’m going to end this group hug. James, please don’t track me down.”

“It’s over,” Gabriel said. “Leave her alone. That is the message she’s trying to convey. If you need it in writing, I can arrange that. In the form of a restraining order.”

“Excuse me?” James said.

“He’s not serious,” I said.

“Yes, actually, I am,” Gabriel said. “At present, the situation does not qualify, but I am serving notice, Mr. Morgan. If you waylay Olivia again, there will be consequences.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s a warning.”

“All right,” I said. “Let’s not blow this out of proportion.”

“I don’t think I am.” Gabriel lifted his shades. “Am I, Mr. Morgan?”

Before James could answer, Gabriel laid his hand on my shoulder, steering me toward the car.

“You’re going to allow him to do that?” James said. “Speak for you? Threaten me? Shuttle you off?” He strode toward us. “I’m not letting you walk away with this thug—”

“If you lay a hand on her—”

“Go to hell, Walsh.” James started past him. When Gabriel blocked him again, James snarled, “You’re not going to stop me—”

“Actually, I will.”

“James, please. Just turn around and walk away. Gabriel? Can we go? I don’t want to do this.”

Gabriel waved for me to continue toward the car. As we turned, James lunged. His fingers closed on my arm, and I was pulling away when I saw a blur of motion. His hand jerked free. At a bone-cracking thump, I spun to see Gabriel with his fist wrapped in James’s shirtfront, James slammed up against an SUV and gasping in pain and shock.

“Are you psychotic?” James struggled to get free, but Gabriel kept his hold. “Liv, tell your pit bull—”

“I warned you not to touch her,” Gabriel said, his tone conversational.

“She is my fiancée,” James spat.

“Ex-fiancée, a concept you appear to have difficulty comprehending, which is at the root of this problem. However, if you are suggesting that even as her fiancé you would have the right to touch her, you are mistaken on a very important point of law. You do not. You will not. Is that clear?”

“Is that a threat?”

“No. This is a threat.” Gabriel leaned down. “If Olivia wishes to speak to you, she will contact you. If you contact her, I will take action.”

“What? Beat me up and throw me in the river?”

“McNeil.”

“The McNeil? Where the fuck is—?” James stopped. He froze. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to Gabriel’s.

“Good,” Gabriel said. “We understand each other. If you bother Olivia again, I will have a little chat with the SEC. Tell them about your arrangement with Mr. McNeil.”

James said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” about ten seconds too late. He tried to yank his shirt from Gabriel’s grasp. “That isn’t a game you want to play, Walsh.”

“No?” Gabriel’s lips curved in what could have been mistaken for a smile. “Try me and see how much I want to play it. And how good I am at it.”

Gabriel released him. James recovered, shame and fury blazing in his eyes. Fury at me, too, for standing there, watching him be humiliated. Even now, his glower said, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

I turned and headed to the car. It wasn’t until we were in it that I said to Gabriel, “He isn’t usually like that.”

“Because he usually gets what he wants.”

“No, he’s just upset—”

“Because he’s not getting what he wants, and it isn’t an experience he’s accustomed to.” Gabriel glanced back, making sure James was gone. “Are you aware of his reputation in the corporate world, Olivia?”

“If you’re referring to what I presume is an SEC violation, I honestly have no idea what that’s about. I don’t even know a McNeil.”

“Of course not. Because he keeps you out of that. I have a reputation for being ruthless in my professional life. Correct?”

I nodded.

“So does James Morgan. Which is how he has reached his level of success. But he handles himself differently in public. He comes from a political family. He has political aspirations. Ruthlessness would make him seem cold. Calculating. Unpleasant. So he’s mastered the art of the dual personality.” Gabriel eased back in his seat. “I suspect it’s not entirely an act. He’s found a way to be tough professionally, while remaining warm and amiable personally. Except when he doesn’t get what he wants. Am I correct that he initially pursued you? Actively and doggedly pursued you?”

“It wasn’t aggressive—”

“Of course not. But if my sources are correct, it was a determined pursuit and courtship. He was an aspiring politician, and he knew the role that traditional marriage plays in such aspirations. He needed a young wife, from a good family, attractive, intelligent, and well educated, a suitable match in all regards.”

“You make it sound like he was choosing a horse.”

A pause. “You’re insulted,” he said, as if he couldn’t quite fathom why. “I’m not saying he chose you merely because you fulfilled a list of requirements. He was already involved with someone who did that. Marriage to you promised more personal satisfaction, so he dropped her, pursued and won you. Then this happened. He set about getting you back, confident that he would not only win you but win your gratitude for taking you back under the circumstances.”