she held his powerful stare and nibbled on her lower lip. Those dark brown, almost black eyes, looked back at her unwaveringly. His skin was fair, not as fair as hers, but most people weren’t. Long strands of his unusual whitish-blond and brown hair blew free from the confines of his ponytail and danced around that insanely handsome face.
He didn’t move, didn’t flinch or try to brush them back, but kept his attention fully focused on her. His massive frame looked poised and ready to pounce on her at any moment. She was grateful that there was a Jeep between them, because if he’d been within reach, she probably would’ve tangled her fingers in that long hair.
“ Oh-my-Gawd!”
Another familiar shrill voice came from behind and split the air, bringing Layla back to reality with irritating speed. William, clearly annoyed at the interruption, looked past her for the source of the outburst. Layla cringed and gave the old Jeep tire a kick. She’d know that fingernails-on-a-chalkboard voice anywhere. Sylvia Clark. She was the only child of Frank Clark and the town’s mean girl. Layla hadn’t seen her in a few years, and their last encounter hadn’t exactly been a pleasant exchange.
Layla grit her teeth and turned to face her, all the while hoping she’d gotten really fat. However, the moment she latched eyes on her, all hopes were dashed. Nope. Still tall, blond, gorgeous, and dressed to the nines.
Where the hell was the justice in that?
The woman was like a walking Barbie doll—if Barbie had an evil twin. A flowing black wrap was draped dramatically over what was undoubtedly a designer, top-of-the-line ensemble. Shopping bags were dangling over both arms, and she looked like she’d just come from the beauty parlor. Hair done. Makeup perfect. She may be a bitch, but she was undeniably gorgeous. All these years later, Layla still felt second-rate around her.
To Layla’s surprise, Sylvia grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her the double-air kiss on both cheeks. She took her hands away quickly, as though she might get dirty if she touched her for too long.
“Well, my, my, my,” she breathed. “Don’t you just look exactly the same as you did last time I saw you?” This was obviously not meant as a compliment.
Sylvia removed her large black sunglasses and flicked her light blue eyes over Layla from head to toe. She smirked briefly, before turning her sights on William. Her eyes grew wide, and a smile slithered over her preserved face. “Well, this is new,” she simpered. “And who might you be, handsome?”
William stepped around the Jeep and moved in next to Layla. Sylvia didn’t take her eyes off him. Layla couldn’t read her mind, but she could read her energy, and it screamed sex.
Sylvia wanted to fuck William’s brains out.
Anger, jealousy, and an instinctive urge to protect what was hers flashed through her brutally. She clenched her fists and froze. What was hers? What the hell? She didn’t want him. He wasn’t hers. He was a stranger. Why should it matter how any woman looked at him? Dammit.
Layla took her aviators out of her pocket and shoved them on, afraid her eyes would shift. She crossed her arms under her breasts and wrestled with the urge to punch Sylvia’s lights out and throw her in the nearest body of water.
William shook Sylvia’s hand and politely introduced himself. “I am William Fleury,” he said as he draped his arm casually over Layla’s shoulders. “I’m an old friend,” he said with a warm look in her direction.
Layla’s heart flip-flopped. He didn’t look at Sylvia that way. He looked at her .
She stilled as he pulled her against his warm body. She should’ve been pissed that he took such liberties, but frankly, she was having too much fun watching Sylvia get snubbed. This rich, beautiful woman, her entire life, had been playing with men and having them fall at her feet, including her brother, Raife. The bitch had toyed with him and teased him all