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      “Because this isn’t the first time she’s promised to take the money and disappear forever.”

      She didn’t look a bit surprised. “Still not my problem.”

      “True, but you are a part of the solution.” Offering her his most reassuring smile, he removed a bulky envelope from his breast pocket. “Dr. Walker and I have formulated a simple resolution, one that insulates both himself and you from Patty’s threats, both present and future.” He held the envelope out. “Take a look. It’s a very…generous compromise.”

      Kyle’s wording was eerily similar to what he’d told her in that hotel lobby. Unsettled, Shayna took the envelope and slid a shaky forefinger under the seal. Instinct told her this would not be good.

      Watching the papers emerge, she felt as anxious as a tourist at a snake-charming demonstration. Rationally, she knew the papers couldn’t harm her, but that didn’t stop her inner warning alarms from clanging ninety to nothing.

      Her teeth worried the inside of her lower lip as the pages slipped free. Atop the bundle was a cashier’s check, made out to her, for two hundred fifty thousand dollars.

      Stunned, she tentatively touched the dollar amount, half expecting the check to be a mirage. When it didn’t vanish under her fingers, she forced her slack jaw back into place. A familiar sick pain twisted in her gut. Patty had said Walker would pay big bucks to keep Shayna’s existence a secret, and she’d been right.

      So much for her hope that the other fifty percent of her DNA contained a smidge of human decency. Obviously, Patty Hoyt and Steven Walker were cut from the same cloth.

      “Ms. Miller?” he asked gently.

      Floundering to make sense out of what was happening, she shifted her focus to his face. One side of his mouth kicked up, cranking his dimple to life. That pleased, confident smile brought the entire bizarre situation into crystal clear focus.

      This man expected her to be thrilled, to simply agree to whatever Walker had in mind, pocket the check and send him on his merry way. No doubt with a grateful hug and hearty thank-you. She’d never been so disappointed or outraged in her entire life.

      “Shayna?” Kyle’s normally robust voice was smoother than fresh cream. “I’m sure that much money comes as a shock—”

      “Shock? It’s an insult!” she hissed. She could practically feel the blood draining from her face. Brinks immediately scrambled to his feet and came to stand at her side, his massive body braced against her hip.

      Her temper, which normally took forever to erupt, rose to a full boil as she bundled the wad of papers, check and all, and chucked them at the trash. They bounced off and landed under the table. The placid look on Kyle’s face melted into confusion, but not even temporarily rendering him speechless could lessen Shayna’s anger.

      “What does your no-good client expect in return for a quarter of a million dollar payoff, Mr. Anderson? Maybe he wants me to murder Patty and bury her body on my mountain?”

      “No, of course not. Shayna, calm down—”

      “Calm down! I don’t think so. How dare that…that—” she couldn’t come up with a word vile enough to describe Dr. Walker “—that man, try to buy me off.” The last words emerged as a shriek, but she was beyond caring. How dare he suggest she sell her pride.

      Hands fisted at her sides, fury blackened the edges of her vision. “He’s afraid of what Patty’s information will do to his precious reputation, so he sends you down here with a counteroffer. Of all the rotten, lowdown, dirty—”

      “Shayna!” Kyle’s shout ended her tirade. She barely heard Brinks’s growl over the roaring in her head. Kyle grabbed her arms and gave her several firm shakes. “Breathe, Shayna, breathe.”

      Shocked, she drew in a gulp of air. Her temper had never before gotten so out of hand that she nearly passed out. Hell, she didn’t even know she could get that mad.

      “Better?” Kyle asked gently, slowly releasing his hold on her arms.

      Embarrassed, she nodded. Fearful her knees would give out any second, Shayna threaded her fingers into Brinks’s fur and tensed every muscle in her body. “Your time is up, Mr. Anderson. I think you should leave now.”

      Brinks seconded the order with a teeth-baring snarl.

      Barely holding herself together, she marched back to the front door, listening to the slap of Kyle’s thin-soled shoes and the patter of Brinks’s nails crossing the wood floor behind her. Her fingers shook as she yanked the door open. Another gust of wind roared inside, but she was too numb to feel the cold. Anger made an excellent insulator.

      Kyle tossed a last wary look at Brinks. If not for the dog, Shayna knew Kyle wouldn’t have left without a fight. Feeling deflated, she leaned against the door and waved Kyle toward the front porch. Unfortunately, he stopped in the open doorway and turned to face her. His unexpected maneuver put them much too close for rational verbal communication, but pure stubborn pride wouldn’t allow her to back off a step.

      He put a knuckle under her chin, leaving her no choice but to meet his gaze. Gone was his practiced charm and polish. All she saw was kindness and concern. The warm combination made her as light-headed as her earlier debilitating burst of temper.

      “I’m sorry to have upset you, Shayna, but you have to realize this isn’t over. Please read the agreement. You’ll see that Walker’s only trying to make things right.”

      He sounded so convincing that it took her a second to remember he was a master player, a lawyer, a professional manipulator. A man not to be trusted.

      Frowning, she stepped back from his tempting touch and straightened her spine, doing her best to look strong and intimidating. “You can tell your client that unlike my mother, I cannot be bought.” Then, before he could respond, she slammed the door in his face.

      Kyle swore viciously as his dumpy rental slogged down the curvy mountain road. This should have been a one-day assignment. Get in, get her signature and get out. He hadn’t expected to be delayed by a tiny package of grit and pride. Shayna Miller’s disdainful glare had made him remember what he’d once been—the delinquent son of a two-bit criminal, a kid without hopes or dreams. A kid without a future.

      But that kid was gone. Kyle had locked him away a long time ago.

      The tires squealed as his foot agitated the accelerator. The car zoomed too fast around a corner, sending the tail end flying dangerously close to the mountain’s edge and his briefcase to the passenger floorboard. He eased off the gas. Struggling to regain his composure, he drew in a lungful of dry, forcefully heated air.

      Law had been an ironic yet deliberate choice. He’d vowed to become his father’s complete opposite. He’d worked hard, graduated at the top of his class, and after taking a grunt position at Thomas, Peake and Moore, had worked his way up, establishing a reputation for unconventional yet effective tactics while always working within the bounds of the law. Seeing that stricken look on Shayna’s face had made him feel like a heartless jackass, no better than the Walkers and Patty Hoyts of the world.

      She obviously despised Patty and Walker, and he couldn’t blame her. At least she’d lucked out and somehow landed with James Miller, who, from all reports, had managed to give her a mostly happy childhood. That put her miles ahead of most children in that situation.

      Still, his instincts kept insisting something didn’t add up. Most people would be overjoyed to receive a quarter of a mil, but not Shayna. She had freaked out, gotten so overwrought she nearly passed out.

      Although, he had to admit that the melodramatic line about murdering Patty had almost been funny—until her face had turned blue. She’d reminded him of one of his foster sisters, who used to hold her breath until whatever adult was in charge gave in to her demands.

      Was that it? Had she—like her mother—put on an act and tried to play him for a fool? Her response

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