"Who's there?" she called.
"Me. Open up, Neva."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Of all the people she didn't want to see right now, her father had to top the list.
The confrontation she didn't want, and wasn't really ready for, was about to happen.
Chapter Twelve
Duncan swore softly. Neva's father couldn't have chosen a worse time to come visiting. The smell of lust and sex sat heavily on the warm air, and Neva's warm skin still glowed with the aftermath of their lovemaking. It wasn't something either of them could deny and would only further fuel the old man's anger.
Not that Duncan was worried about himself — just Neva. She loved her parents, and he didn't want the situation to get any messier than it already was, but he had a feeling it would.
She whirled and grabbed his jeans and shorts, thrusting them into his hands. Go into the kitchen and get dressed, she ordered. Sit at the table and make like nothing is happening.
He gently brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her cheek. He's not stupid. It's very evident what we've been doing.
Her eyes flashed at him. I know, but I don't intend to rub his face in it.
Neither did he. Not this time. But he didn't intend to leave her alone to face her father's wrath, either. Especially when that wrath was mostly his making. He threw on his clothes but didn't retreat, and she made an exasperated sound before moving to turn on the light and open the door.
"So it's true." Though Levon's voice was soft, it was filled with anger. Rich with contempt. "You didn't leave Ripple Creek after all. You lied to me, and you lied to your mother."
Her hurt swirled through Duncan, as bright as a flame. Yet none of it showed in her voice as she said, "Would you have felt any better if I'd told the truth?" She stepped back, opening the door wider. "Are you coming in, or are we going to discuss this on the doorstop for all the neighbors to hear?"
Levon's gaze ran past her, meeting Duncan's. "Oh, I'm coming in all right." He stepped inside and thrust a hand deep into his pocket.
Duncan saw the bulge. Knew a weapon was hidden there. And while he had the strength to wrest the gun from the older wolf's grip, he wasn't about to risk it with Neva standing so close. Accidents happened, and he didn't want it happening to her.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, feigning indifference as she closed the door. "I never figured you for a man of violence, Levon."
She shot him a quick, confused look, then her gaze darted to her father, and she made an exasperated sound. "Do you really think he's worth going to jail over?"
Even though Duncan had half expected her to say something like that, her words still cut. But declarations of caring, after everything he'd done to her, weren't in the cards right now. Maybe they never would be.
"I'd keep that gun in your pocket," he drawled softly. "Because I know from experience you wouldn't enjoy jail."
A muscle in the old man's jaw throbbed. "Do you know what they're saying about her in the hospital?"
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," she cut in. "And what does it matter what people are saying about me?"
Levon shot her a furious look. "It matters to me. It matters to your mother."
"And my feelings and needs don't?"
"You're my daughter," Levon said fiercely. "And I will not have your reputation sullied by a man like this."
Neva's expression was an endearing mix of anger and amusement. "Duncan's not the first man I've danced with, Dad, and he probably won't be the last."
"He will be if I have anything to say about it." Levon drew the gun out of his pocket and, with a trembling hand, pointed it at Duncan.
Duncan didn't move. Just tensed, ready to dive away should the older man's finger so much as twitch on the trigger.
Neva swore and stepped between them. "Don't be so damned ridiculous." She hesitated, sniffing the air. "You've been drinking."
Damn it, Neva, Duncan said. Step out of the line of fire.
No. He won't shoot me.