Miss Dillon was embarrassed at this plain hostility, but indignation too sparkled in her eye. “Anything in particular you want?”
The newcomer ignored her question. His hard gaze challenged the Southerner; did more than challenge—weighed and condemned.
But this young woman was not used to being ignored. Her voice took on an edge of sharpness.
“What can I do for you, Jed?”
“Who's your friend?” the man demanded bluntly, insolently.
Arlie's flush showed the swift, upblazing resentment she immediately controlled. “Mr. Fraser—just arrived from Texas. Mr. Fraser, let me introduce to you Mr. Briscoe.”
The Texan stepped forward to offer his hand, but Briscoe deliberately put both of his behind him.
“Might I ask what Mr. Fraser, just arrived from Texas, is doing here?” the young man drawled, contriving to make an insult of every syllable.
The girl's eyes flashed dangerously. “He is here as my guest.”
“Oh, as your guest!”