Savannah Secrets. Fiona Hood-Stewart

about the world.”

      “Because I’ve had it thoroughly checked out. About ten years ago, Rowena hired a private detective agency that traced all your adoption records. It’s all in there. There is no doubt. Of course, another DNA test would determine undisputable proof.”

      “Another DNA test?” His eyes narrowed and Meredith felt her cheeks warming, cursing herself for the blunder. She’d found the detective’s idea of taking a hair off the shoulder of his jacket invasive, and had said so at the time.

      “Do you mean to tell me that, unbeknownst to me, someone has tampered with my private effects and taken material with which to do a DNA test?” he asked in a menacing tone.

      “Well, not exactly.”

      “What do you mean, not exactly?” He rose and paced the room, body tense and taut. “Ms. Hunter, how dare anybody invade my privacy and mess with my stuff? Or didn’t you think I knew how a DNA test works?” He stopped next to the couch and loomed over her. “Next you’ll be saying you know what my damn blood type is. Or when I lost my virginity.”

      “According to your birth records, it’s AB negative—just like your mother’s. Quite rare,” she observed mildly.

      “My moth—God, that beats the lot. I suppose I’m meant to be grateful that I have that in common with her,” he added bitterly before glaring down at her. “You know you’ve got some nerve coming here, disrupting my life. As for Rowena, I don’t want her damn money and neither do I wish to acquire a herd of bloody relations.”

      “But Dallas is your sister.”

      “Good for her. I’ll bet she has as much desire to meet me as I do her. That is, if you’ve told her about me?” he asked shrewdly.

      “I have. Dallas is expected to be present at the Miami meeting.”

      “I thought I’d already made it clear that I’ve no intention of attending any meeting,” he said harshly. “Who does that woman think she is—was, rather, manipulating people like pawns on a chessboard? She must have been raving mad to want to leave her money to me. She had no idea who I was or what I’d turned into. And she obviously cared even less.”

      “She clearly had some notion of who you were, since she compiled a file with ten years of data about you,” Meredith reminded him bluntly, thinking privately that had Rowena actually met this boor, she might very well have made other provisions.

      Scowling, he handed her back the file. “This is like a bad B movie.” He sat down again. Then, mercurial as ever, his expression changed and he proceeded in a conversational manner, “By the way, just out of interest, why was I put up for adoption? Did my mother get knocked up by some worthless boyfriend?” The tone was blasé but Meredith caught the edge in his voice. Although he put on a good show, it was just possible that beneath his harsh front, Grant Gallagher was coping with deeper emotions he was determined to conceal.

      “I don’t know, I’m afraid.”

      “Well, neither do I, and, frankly, I don’t care. I had parents—for what they were worth. And now I’m my own man. So let’s forget the whole thing. You pack your papers up, go back to Savannah, and I’ll get on with my life. If you need a release, send me the documents and I’ll return them to you duly signed and sealed.”

      “It’s not quite as simple as that,” she demurred, standing her ground.

      “Why not? I don’t want her money. Give it to somebody who does, for Christ’s sake. I’ll bet there are dozens of relatives lining up for that kind of dough.”

      Meredith hesitated. She sensed it was too soon to place the chips on the table.

      “Mr. Gallagher, any decision you make will directly impact a number of people. Should you continue to not wish to accept the inheritance and instead choose to hand it over to another party, it will still require going through the legal formalities.”

      “Well, you’re the lawyer, you find solutions. What ‘other party’ were you thinking of?” His eyes met hers head-on, his hypnotic gaze impossible to ignore.

      Meredith took a deep breath and hoped she wasn’t jumping the gun. “If you don’t want it, your sister, Dallas, could use it,” she said at last.

      “Great. Tell her she can have the lot.”

      “Unfortunately, the will has certain stipulations.”

      His eyes narrowed. “What stipulations?”

      “I guess Rowena may have anticipated that you might refuse the inheritance, and established a provision that will take effect if you fail to undertake certain actions. For you to alter this provision, you have thirty days, as of now, to take the necessary legal steps. Included in those steps, as specified in the will, is your attendance at a meeting with Dallas in Miami. If you don’t come to the meeting and sign the proper paperwork, then the money goes to a foundation set up by Rowena, the, um—” she paused “—the Society for the Advancement and Protection of Poodles.”

      He laughed now, a rich, deep laugh, and his eyes rested on her with the first glimpse of real feeling she’d recognized in him yet. “Very savvy,” he exclaimed. “You sure this is for real? You’re not making it up to try to persuade me to go to this famous meeting you seem so determined about?”

      “Jesus! You have nerve,” Meredith burst out, finally losing her cool and jumping out of the chair. “If you’d bothered to read all the letters I sent, you’d know all about this already—”

      “I rarely read my correspondence.”

      “Well, that’s just too goddamn bad,” she flung, throwing down the file. “Maybe when you’ve come to your senses, you’ll read that through properly. I’m going back to the Strathcairn Arms.”

      “What for?” he goaded, crossing his arms, arrogantly looking her up and down. “I have no intention of changing my mind. I plan on ignoring the whole thing.”

      “Mr. Gallagher,” Meredith said through gritted teeth, “I am not to blame for the manner in which your grandmother chose to bequeath her fortune. I’m merely an emissary. I have no pleasure in being here, I assure you. But I have a fiduciary responsibility to act on behalf of the beneficiary, and a legal duty to act in managing and administering the estate,” she continued bitingly. “The law requires a high standard of ethical and moral conduct of fiduciaries. There are many specific duties. Some are imposed by statute, some by case law and some by the will itself. But none of them can be ignored.”

      “Bravo. An impressive speech.” He clapped his hands and looked her over, amused. “I guess law school is good for something after all.”

      Mastering the urge to knock his well-aligned teeth down his throat, Meredith took a deep breath. “In case I used too many big words,” she said sweetly, “it means that, like it or not, I now represent your best interests. I need you to cooperate. Do you understand?”

      “Perfectly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy this morning. Goodbye, Ms. Hunter.” With a sharp nod he rose, turned on his heel and marched out of the room the same way he’d entered. The door snapped shut behind him, leaving Meredith openmouthed in the middle of the room.

      “Well, that does it,” she muttered, angrily clamping down the lid of her briefcase and leaving the file where he’d abandoned it on the side table. She crossed the room, then marched into the great hall. The man’s obtuseness—not to mention his incredibly rude behavior—was intolerable. How could she be expected to deal with such a creature? There was no sign of Mrs. Duffy. In fact, the place seemed deserted. Reaching the huge front door, Meredith dragged it open and headed down the steps.

      So much for wrapping this up in forty-eight hours, she reflected bitterly. She had to get back to the Strathcairn Arms and think out a new strategy, one that did not involve her personally, she vowed. As soon as the office opened in Savannah, she would phone Tracy and brainstorm with her. Surely she couldn’t be expected to