"Are you just upset 'cause I've had a coupla drinks? Hey, no problem, honey. I'm ready, willing, and able. You'll see. Can't keep a good man down, you know." He grinned stupidly and started to unbutton his shirt. "Might be safer if we went to my room, though. Don't think I want Quarrel walkin' in on us, know what I mean?"

"Get out of here!" Verity demanded furiously.

Slade leered at her. "Hey, maybe we got no problem. Maybe Quarrel's hoppin' into the sack with Elyssa even as we speak. Is that the way it is? You two have an understanding? Elyssa's convinced the guy's some kinda psychic, you know. She likes to sleep with psychics. She and Yarwood get it on all the time.

She even made it with me a time or two. She's one hot ticket waiting to get punched." Slade frowned.

"Think she tried it with Crump but he wasn't interested. Crump's not interested in anything except his damn herbs and crystals."

Verity was getting angrier by the minute. Slade looked too drunk to be physically dangerous, but she wasn't having any luck in getting him to leave. He was right about one thing: the thought of Jonas walking in on this little scene was not a comforting one. The memory of him holding the knife at Doug Warwick's throat was still fresh. Verity decided to take action.

She walked firmly across the room and took hold of Slade's sleeve. She used all her strength to pull him to his feet.

"Out," she said crisply. "Right now."

Slade staggered and looped an arm around her shoulders to brace himself. He smiled broadly and leaned against her, trying to plant a wet kiss on her mouth.

Verity ducked and dragged him toward the door, her nose wrinkling at the overpowering odor of liquor on his breath.

"Want to go to my room, huh? Okay by me. We're on our way." Slade then lost his balance and started to collapse.

It was like having a huge, limp puppet fall on her. Verity's weak ankle gave way painfully and she crumpled to her knees, and Slade's loose-limbed body sprawled over her. He scrabbled uselessly to find his feet, and the two of them wound up in a heap on the floor just as the door swung open.

Jonas launched himself through the doorway without a word. He grabbed Slade, yanked him off Verity, and hurled the younger man up against the tapestry-covered wall.

Spencer hit the wall with an audible thud, and the breath rushed out of him. He groaned and slumped to the floor, almost unconscious.

Verity looked up at Jonas as he headed toward his victim. She recognized the glitter in his eye.

"Jonas, no! He's just drank and acting stupid." She scrambled awkwardly to her feet, gasping at the pain in her ankle.

"Stupid is right," Jonas said in his softest, most dangerous voice. He hauled the groggy Spencer to his feet and drew back his fist.

"Hey, wait a second, man." Spencer came to his senses long enough to hold up a weak hand. "Didn't mean anything. Just havin' a little fun."

"Live and learn, Spencer. This is the kind of fun that can get you killed. You should have stuck to rutabagas. Verity is off limits."

"No, no, it's all just a misunderstanding," Slade protested desperately. "Thought she wanted it. Thought all the chicks into this psychic stuff liked it. Hell, Elyssa sleeps with everyone."

"You're right about one thing," Jonas said. "There's been a misunderstanding. Verity sleeps with no one but me." His fist cracked against Spencer's jaw. The man's head wobbled, and Jonas prepared to hit him again.

"Oh no, Jonas!" Verity wailed. She leaped forward to grab his arm. "Stop it. There's no need for violence. Stop it right now!"

Jonas shook her off, his golden eyes gleaming with fire. Verity staggered back against the tapestry, unable to find her balance with her weak ankle. She started to fall and automatically grabbed at the tapestry.

"Verity!" Jonas let go of Spencer and caught her. He planted a hand on the tapestry, bracing himself and Verity against the wall.

As soon as Jonas touched the tapestry Verity felt strange vibrations ricochet from his mind to hers.

"What the hell?" Jonas yanked Verity away from the wall. "Jesus, that's all I need right now."

Verity relaxed slightly as the disturbing vibrations disappeared. Jonas glanced at the tapestry and back down at the man sprawled at his feet.

"I ought to kill him."

Verity sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "He's drunk, Jonas. And Lord knows what he's been smoking all evening. Just get him back to his room so he can sleep it off. There was no harm done."

"The guy tries to rape you, and you say there was no harm done?"

"He didn't try to rape me. I was escorting him out of the room when he lost his balance and fell on top of me."

Jonas's eyes were savage. He stared at her for a long moment. Then he reached down to grab one of Spencer's ankles. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He dragged Slade Spencer out of the room as if the man were a sack of garbage.

Verity heaved a tortured sigh and sank down on the edge of the bed. Absently she touched her ankle and groaned when pain shot through it.

What a mess. Jonas was furious, Spencer had turned into a damned nuisance, and there was something very dangerous on the other side of that tapestry. At the moment she didn't know which problem was the worst.

Probably Jonas.

It was not going to be easy to pacify him; she had seen the fury in his eyes. Verity could only pray that he was not doing more bodily harm to Slade at that very moment. She didn't relish the idea of a lawsuit.

Jonas strode back into the room just as Verity was wondering how broad her insurance coverage was.

"What did you do with him?" she demanded.

"I dumped him in the courtyard fountain." He started to unbutton his flannel shirt.

"You did what?"

"You heard me. Take a look." He nodded toward the windows as he stalked into the bathroom.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Jonas, you didn't really leave him there, did you?" But she knew Jonas well enough by now to guess the truth. Verity gingerly made her way to the window and looked down into the gloomy courtyard. There was just enough light seeping from the windows in the south wing to show a dark form sprawled in the empty fountain. "Jonas, I think it's starting to rain."

"So what?" He turned on the water in the old-fashioned bathroom sink.

"What do you mean, so what? You've left Slade out there and it's near freezing. Now it's raining. He's liable to catch pneumonia."

"I don't give a damn what happens to him. With any luck he'll drown." Jonas came out of the bathroom drying his hands on a towel. His shirt hung open, revealing the dark hair on his chest. His Florentine gold eyes still glittered with masculine outrage. "I've about had it, Verity. This is the second time in the past week I've walked in and found some man climbing all over you."