Raelynn's heart raced as she stared at the man standing before her. It was him—the same man who had come to her rescue at the party. There was no mistaking him—tall and sharp-featured, he stood out immediately. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of running into him here.
The man was holding a small tray of pastries in one hand, his other hand now firmly gripping Mr. Mints' wrist. He repeated her words, but there was a sharpness to it as he echoed her words. "You heard the lady. Let go."
Mr. Mints' face contorted in irritation, his lips curling into a sneer. Raelynn tensed. She knew from experience that Mr. Mints despised being challenged, especially in public.
"Who the hell are you?" Mr. Mints barked. "Why don't you mind your own business?"
The man didn't flinch. His grip tightened just a bit, his face calm, but his eyes warned otherwise. "I'm just a man passing by," he began. "And I don't like seeing a jerk harassing a lady. Now let her go."
