The name was a barb, a sharp shot of pain that almost instantly settled into a bitter ache. The blue of Jordan's eyes grew icy cold.

"No," she replied, and pressed her mouth into a line as she turned and strode briskly inside without further comment. He'd want to know about Daisy—Of course he'd want to know about Daisy—but the entire affair had become a bore long before it had become deadly, and Jordan was well sick of it.