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said from beside her. “Hannah’s right. The man’s son is lying unconscious in a hospital bed. It’s only natural that he’d be a little irrational.”
    “Let go of him,” Hannah said. “He didn’t hurt me.”
    John let go and Smythe took a deep breath, straightened his clothes and slid a hand over his hair. “Is this your personal thug, Hannah?” he said, his eyes avoiding John’s. He pulled the top of his shirt away from his neck as though it was choking him and twisted his head, grimacing. “I thought you had Bradshaw for that.”
    Hannah felt Thornton tense beside her. Bill turned to him as though he’d just noticed he was there, but Hannah wasn’t convinced. “Well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t Mister Big himself.”
    “Sorry to hear about your son,” Thornton said stiffly. “I hope he’ll be okay.”
    “Don’t think I don’t know where Christian got that coke, Bradshaw. Ty doesn’t have to go far to find a dealer, huh? All he has to do is walk into the house and ask one of your boys.”
    Thornton’s eyes flashed pure hatred but his voice remained silky smooth. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Bill. I’ll let it go this time because of the circumstances, but if you insist on throwing unfounded accusations around you will be hearing from my attorney.”
    Smythe laughed. “If the police searched your house right now, I’d bet a million dollars they’d find drugs. You think spreading your money around can fool people into thinking you’re a law-abiding citizen, Bradshaw, but I know better. I know all about you.”
    “Bill,” Hannah said. “Just go in and see Christian, okay? This is getting you nowhere.”
    “I think you should listen to the lady,” Bradshaw said with a smile that defined the expression ‘sharklike’. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “She’s a smart cookie.”
    “Sure she is.” Smythe regarded Hannah with an expression of disgust. “She knows who to spread her legs for to keep her precious—”
    Hannah gasped as John grabbed Bill by the front of his shirt and got in his face. “Excuse me?” he said. “I thought I heard you insult Ms. Duncan again, you bastard.”
    “John!” she shouted.
    Smythe made a gurgling sound, and John let go of him. This time the man had the good sense to walk away.
    “Jeez, the guy’s a slow learner,” John said.
    “Are you nuts? He could have you arrested for assault.”
    “He’s a bully and a creep, and he’s blaming you because he knows it’s his own damn fault his son’s in that hospital bed.”
    They turned at the sound of footsteps and anxious voices coming toward them.
    “I’ll deal with them,” Thornton said. He walked over to a small group of suits and one security guard, his hand outstretched.
    Hannah sighed heavily and turned toward the double doors leading into the emergency suite. “I can’t believe he didn’t run right into that room. If it were my son lying there…”
    “Your son wouldn’t be in that situation,” John said. “Because you’d beat the crap out of him if he even looked at drugs.”
    “Why does that man hate me so much?”
    “Because he’s a self-centered asshole who doesn’t like you reminding him how inadequate he is as a parent.”
    A few minutes later, Thornton shook hands with the hospital staff and rejoined Hannah and John. For someone who had just been called a drug dealer and a thug, and had apparently smoothed over John’s impulsive behavior, he seemed totally unruffled. As always, he was an impressive figure in his expensive suit and blond good looks. But his striking blue eyes were colder than Hannah had ever seen them.
    “Did they tell you anything about Christian’s condition?” she asked.
    “They’re still running tests.” Thornton held out a hand to John. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Thornton Bradshaw.”
    They shook. “John Emerson.”
    “I’ve got to hand it to you, John. Another second and I would have knocked his teeth down