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her lips, but her skin was so clear and fine and her coloring so perfect that Jared preferred her with the natural look, and every molecule of testosterone in his body refused to leave the subject alone.

      “Your secretary will be able to arrange to have the files sent over to them, I assume?” Shallis finished.

      Jared felt his stomach drop an uncomfortable couple of inches.

      Shoot. Drat. Darn.

      Or words to that effect.

      She’d called his bluff.

      Well, no, she didn’t look at it like that, of course, and neither should he. She was simply taking the perfectly reasonable way out he’d just offered her—but he might not have offered it if he’d thought she’d catch hold of it so smoothly.

      Helplessly he let the rest of their short conversation unravel like a piece of yarn… I mean, sure, if she wanted, yes, she should go over to Carrollton, to Banks and Moore… And it wasn’t until she’d closed the outer office door behind her that the real Jared Starke took control of his actions again.

      Jared Starke the winner.

      Jared Starke the fourth generation lawyer.

      Jared Starke who heard the word, “No,” the same way a bull saw a red rag.

      Jared Starke who could laugh at his Sore Loser trophy now, but who still wasn’t going to let what would surely be his last chance to make something work out right with the Duncan family just walk out of his grandfather’s law practice on those sexy pale gray heels, while he stood here rooted to the floor, imprisoned by an agonizing rush of physical need as tangible as iron bands.

       Chapter Two

       “W ait!” said Jared’s voice, overtaking Shallis as she went back along the street toward her car, which was still parked in the drugstore’s lot.

      She stopped and turned reluctantly, watching him catch up to her. His stride lengthened, strong and full of purpose, and then he stopped short, keeping safely out of her body space.

      But whose safety was he concerned for, here?

      “Do you really have to do this?” he said.

      His voice stayed low, in an instinctive bid for privacy that Shallis appreciated. The intimacy that it seemed to weave around them she appreciated a lot less.

      “It’s a half hour drive to Carrollton,” he went on. “Banks and Moore’s billing rate is considerably higher than my grandfather’s, and they have no familiarity with your family’s legal affairs. I’m not sure what’s making you so reluctant—”

      She threw him a look that said, “Oh, really?” and his face changed.

      “Okay. You got me.” He spread his hands, then he sighed.

      His voice had gone husky, suddenly. Deeper, too. Its masculine notes curled around her legs and misted upward, as sneaky as the smoke from the cigarettes Shallis had tried a few times at fourteen.

      “I know exactly what’s making you so reluctant, don’t I?” he said. “But this is a simple business relationship and I’m a good lawyer. My grandfather wouldn’t have handed the practice over to me if I wasn’t. I wouldn’t be considering partnership offers from three major Chicago law firms if I wasn’t.”

      He stepped a little closer, and Shallis didn’t know if it was deliberate or not. She did know that she was far too aware of the movement, and of its results. She could see the tiny chips of gold deep in his brown eyes, now, and a couple of equally tiny freckles just above the corner of his mouth.

      She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together, but couldn’t close off the effect he had on her. The effect he’d always had.

      “At least let’s go through with our appointment this morning,” he continued. “We can set things in motion regarding your grandmother’s estate. You can talk it over with your mother later. And if either of you still has a problem about my involvement, I’m sure my grandfather will agree to handle the next phase when he gets back from his fishing trip, since your family has been with him for so long.”

      “When is he getting back?”

      Soon. Please let it be soon, so that I don’t have to deal with this. Again.

      “He wouldn’t commit himself, unfortunately. I’d imagine it’s going to be at least a month, judging by the huge pile of gear and supplies in the back of his pickup when he left.”

      “Why are you so keen about this, Jared?”

      He studied her for a moment, and she got the impression he was sorting through his possible answers in search of the one she was most likely to believe. She’d seen a lot of men with that particular look on their face, as they sorted through their possible come-on lines in search of the one that was most likely to get a beauty queen into bed.

      “I don’t want to be responsible for taking your family’s business away from my grandfather,” he said eventually.

      “It’s a bread-and-butter estate settlement, isn’t it?” It hurt her to talk about her grandmother’s legacy this way, but she could put on a cool front just as successfully as Jared himself. What lay beneath the cool front was surely hotter in her case, however. “Your grandfather must deal with this sort of thing all the time. Losing one client isn’t going to bankrupt him.”

      “Losing the Duncan family is going to send the wrong message around town, and he’ll lose other clients as well, as a result. Look, it’s up to you.” He shrugged. “I just don’t think it’s necessary, that’s all. It seems petty, or something.”

      “Petty on my part?”

      “Petty that either of us should feel that your grandmother’s estate has anything to do with a personal and much-regretted mistake I made six years ago. I’ve moved on. I’m sure you have, too.”

      Oh, he had a good line in sincerity. The voice really helped, as deep and buttery, now, as a bottomless bucket of popcorn. So did the eyes. And the lashes. And the tiny glint of ironic awareness almost lost behind the lashes.

      Shallis almost believed him—enough to consider that, yes, Banks and Moore would be more expensive and less convenient, and to finally decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was just a straightforward legal matter, after all, and it wasn’t fair to Mom to let it drag out longer than it had to, or get it tangled in personal feelings.

      “All right,” she said. Her nerve-endings jumped and squealed, treacherous things, like giggling teenagers glimpsing their latest crush. “We’ll do what needs to be done today, and then I’ll find out how my mother wants to proceed.”

      She would talk to Linnie about it, too, only Jared didn’t need to know that.

      “Would you like coffee while we talk?” Jared asked as they entered the front office once again.

      “Yes, please.” You could hide a surprising amount behind a steaming cup, Shallis knew, and she might need to do exactly that.

      “Andrea?” he said to the receptionist.

      She nodded. “Coming right up.” If she was curious about Shallis’s sudden departure and unexpected return, she didn’t let on. “How do you like it, Miss Duncan?”

      “Cream and no sugar, thanks.”

      “And I’m sorry, Mr. Starke, you made your own this morning and I didn’t see…”

      “Just black.”

      So he wasn’t too exalted to make his own coffee. Or maybe he was just softening Andrea up with a good first impression so he could load her down with unreasonable requests later on.

      What, me? Cynical? About Jared Starke? Never! Shallis thought.

      This time, he sat behind his desk while Shallis sat in front of it, which acted as a

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