Cadwick was every bit the stereotypical wolf Ester had called him. Gray just hoped Ester could keep her wits about her when he came around again. He couldn’t let Cadwick get his hands on the Hood land. Just the thought of housing developments or discount supermarkets so close to his forest made his balls shrink.

Gray knew without looking the moment they turned onto the highway. The limo’s suspension was superior, but the difference between country roads and smooth highway was like cobblestone and glass.

No. Ester had Cadwick’s number, and Gray had her back just in case. Convincing her to sell would be like pushing water uphill for Cadwick. The wildcard was Maizie. Blanking her from his reality had knocked her off his radar completely. She was an “in” for Cadwick that Gray hadn’t considered.

No doubt she held a lot of sway with her grandmother. That alone was a danger he couldn’t tolerate. How easily could Maizie be manipulated? Did she need money? Was she easily seduced? Was she smart or gullible? Did she have skeletons to be exploited, dreams and goals Cadwick could hand to her on a platter?

Gray checked his watch. “Jeezus, Annette.”

Cadwick would do anything to turn a profit and with the kind of Fortune-500 clientele he dealt with, he had a lot of play room. Of course with Maizie’s looks it wasn’t hard to guess which tactic he’d try first.

At seventy-eight Gray looked the same age as Cadwick who was in his midforties. Though Gray was as fit as a man in his twenties. But Cadwick could still turn a pretty head or two. He had Romanesque features, larger nose, broader shoulders, stockier build.

His eyes were a dull brown, his hair as black as Gray’s, once upon a time. But where Gray’s had turned a silvery color, speckled with hints of black, Cadwick’s still held the dark tones, only turning a dirty ash at the temples. He wore it shorter than Gray, neatly trimmed over the ears and a half inch above the collar.