Joanne hovered uncertainly at the doorway, torn between breaking up the fight and saving her own skin. She remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed with indecision.
Fortunately, Zane had relented. He loomed over Wes, his voice a dangerous growl: "You want to do business? Then do it properly. But if you even look at Joanne sideways again, I'll make you regret it."
Wes, never one to back down, sneered: "Zane Grey, you really think throwing punches solves anything? Joanne isn't your secretary anymore—hell, she's not yours to control! What business is it of yours who pursues her?"
Zane wrenched his ear viciously. "One more word and I'll have that tongue removed."
Wes's face twisted in agony, his secretary hovering uselessly nearby, too petrified to intervene.
Joanne's mind raced. If Zane ac
