Nick stared hard at the tip of his cigarette. “He’s not my real brother.”

Oh, Lord, he looked young, she thought. And so terribly sad. “I suppose that would depend on your definition of real.” She laid a hand on his knee, prepared for him to shrug her off, but he only switched his gaze from his cigarette to her fingers. “It’d be easier for you to believe he doesn’t care, but you’re not stupid, Nick.”

There was a hot ball in his throat that he refused to believe was tears. “Why should he care? I’m nothing to him.”

“If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t yell at you so much. Take it from me—I come from a family where a raised voice is a sign of unswerving love. He wants to look out for you.”

“I can look out for myself.”

“And have been,” she agreed. “But most of us can use a hand now and again. He won’t thank me for telling you all this, but I think you should know.” She waited until he raised his eyes again. “He’s had to take out a loan to pay for the stolen property and the damages.”

“That’s bull,” Nick shot back, appalled. “Did he lay that trip on you?”

“No, I checked on it myself. It seems old Mr. Muldoon’s illness drained quite a bit of his savings, and Zack’s. Zack’s gotten the bar back on a pretty solid footing again, but he didn’t have enough to swing the costs. A man doesn’t put himself out like that for someone he doesn’t care about.”

The sick feeling in Nick’s gut had him crushing out the cigarette. “He just feels obligated, that’s all.”

“Maybe. Either way, it seems to me you owe him something, Nick. At least you owe him a little cooperation over the next few weeks. He was scared when he came looking for me tonight. You probably don’t want to believe that, either.”

“Zack’s never been scared of anything.”

“He didn’t come right out and say it, but I think he believed you’d taken off for good, that he wasn’t going to see you again.”

“Where the hell would I go?” he demanded. “There’s nobody—” He broke off, ashamed to admit there was no one to go to. “We made a deal,” he muttered, “I’m not going to skip.”

“I’m glad to hear it. And I’m not going to ask you where you went,” she added with a faint smile. “If I did, I’d have to put it in my report to Judge Beckett, and I’d rather not. So we’ll just say you went out for some air, lost track of the time. Maybe the next time you feel like you’ve got to get out, you could call me.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how it feels when you need to break loose.” He looked so lost that Rachel skimmed a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his face. “Lighten up, Nick. It’s not a crime to be friends with your lawyer, either. So what do you say? You give me a break and try a little harder to get along with Zack, and I’ll do what I can to keep him off your back? I know all kinds of tricks for handling nosy older brothers.”

Her scent was clouding his senses. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before how beautiful her eyes were. How deep and wide and soft. “Maybe you and I could go out sometime.”

“Sure.” She saw the suggestion only as a breakthrough in trust, and she smiled. “Rio’s a terrific cook, but once in a while you just got to have pizza, right?”

“Yeah. So I can call you?”

“Absolutely.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. When his hand tightened over hers, she was only mildly surprised. Before she could comment, Zack was pushing the door open again. Nick jumped up as if he were on a string.

Zack passed Rachel her wine, then handed Nick the ginger-ale bottle he had hooked under one finger. Taking his time, he twisted off the top of the beer he had hooked under another. “So, did you two finish your consultation?”

“For now.” Rachel sipped her wine and lifted a brow at Nick.

It wasn’t easy, especially after what she’d told him Zack had done, but Nick met his brother’s eyes. “I’m sorry I took off.”

The surprise was so great that Zack had to swallow quickly or choke on his beer. “Okay. We can work out a schedule so you can have more free time.” What the hell did he do now? “Uh…Rio could use some help swabbing down the kitchen. Things usually break up early on Sunday nights.”

“Sure, no problem.” Nick started for the door. “See you, Rachel.”

When the door closed, Zack dropped down beside her, shaking his head. “What’d you do, hypnotize him?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, what the hell did you say to him?”

She sighed, tremendously pleased with herself, and settled back. “That’s privileged information. He just needs someone to stroke his bruised ego now and again. You two may not be biological brothers, but your temperament’s very similar.”

“Oh.” He settled back, as well, swinging an arm around the top of the couch so that he could play with her hair. “How’s that?”

“You’re both hotheaded and stubborn—which is easy for me to recognize, as I come from a long line of the same.” Enjoying the wine and the quiet, she let her eyes close. “You don’t like to admit you made a mistake, and you’d rather punch your way out of a problem than reason it through.”

“Are you trying to say those are faults?”

She had to laugh. “We’ll just call them personality traits. My family is ripe with passionate natures. And what a passionate nature requires is an outlet. My sister Natasha had dance, then her own business and her family. My brother Mikhail has his art. Alexi has his quest to right wrongs, and I have the law. As I see it, you had the navy, and now this bar. Nick hasn’t found his yet.”

He brushed a finger lightly over the nape of her neck, felt the quick quiver that ran through her. “Do you really consider the law enough of an outlet for passion?”

“The way I play it.” She opened her eyes, but the smile that had started to curve her lips died away. He’d shifted, and his face was close—much too close—and his hands had slipped down to her shoulders. The warning bell that rang in her brain had come too late. “I’ve got to get home,” she said quickly. “I’ve got a nine-o’clock hearing.”