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 had been frighteningly real, but a good con woman needed Oscar-caliber acting skills.
The ping of his BlackBerry cut off his internal line of questioning. He was expecting word regarding pieces of Shayna’s background report that hadn’t been completed this morning when he’d left L.A. Maybe whatever information Amanda, his secretary, had dug up would explain whether Shayna’s irate, over-the-top response to Walker’s offer was genuine or not.
Amazed to be getting cell reception amid the massive, shadowy trees and steep, rounded slopes, Kyle made a grab for his fallen briefcase and the cell phone tucked inside. The lightweight car veered to the right. Jerking upright, he overcorrected. The tires skied over the road’s glassy surface, sending the car sideways down the mountain. The tail flared, throwing him into a full skid.
Hands gripped tightly at ten and two, Kyle steered into the skid. The drum of adrenaline rushing through his brain blanketed out all sounds. His lungs froze. Suddenly the swirling stopped, replaced by a swift loss of altitude. The car hit ground with enough force to rattle his skull but not enough to deploy the airbags.
Inertia slammed him against the doorframe. Cautiously he flexed his muscles. His head felt ready to split open, and his knees, which had jammed into the steering column, stung like a son of a bitch.
He rolled his neck to check the view out his window. A relieved breath shuddered through him. The landscape tilted at a forty-five-degree angle, the car’s grille was buried nose down in the ditch, but he hadn’t gone over the edge.
Hands shaking, he shoved the door open with his shoulder and crawled out of the crumpled car. Wind and freezing rain slapped his face. He ducked back in, retrieved his coat and shrugged it on before snagging his briefcase off the passenger floorboard.
He scrambled up the steep embankment as fast as he could, slipping to his knees several times in the icy mud. Night was falling quickly, the already-freezing temperature plummeting, the rain lashing at him furiously.
Once he reached the road, he took shelter under a large tree. It blocked the deluge, but the wind continued to roar under the canopy of branches. To his right, something rustled through the underbrush just as the sun disappeared. Nature towered above him, blocking the moonlight, but the crooked beam of his headlights bouncing off the side of the ditch showed Kyle all he needed to see.
She was to blame for this mess.
She had him so frustrated and confused that he’d gotten careless.
She, with her sexy Southern drawl, her stubborn refusal, her well-portrayed outrage.
And whether she knew it or not, Shayna Miller had escalated the stakes. Now it was more than just business.
Now it was personal.
Shayna took Kyle’s advice and read Dr. Walker’s “generous” compromise. Definitely a shocker. By all rights, she should be even more livid than when she’d
