“You paid for everything, too. We have insurance. If you’ll invoice me, I’ll-”

“You’ll pay me. Fine,” he growled.

He was blown away by his feelings. He wanted her so badly he could think of nothing else, and she was coldly talking money.

“You said you wanted to see me. I’ve talked to Tuck, and he feels terrible about everything that happened. He had no idea those boys were going to steal anything or tear up your house. The last thing he remembers is hearing a noise in the garage and stumbling across the living room to check it out. Then he must have tripped.”

“Oh, really? What about the money that went missing when he was fired from his last job? Your brother’s been running pretty wild all summer. He’s nineteen. Old enough to know what the guys he runs around with are capable of.”

“He was just showing off. They said they’d never seen a billionaire’s place. He wanted to impress them.”

“He shouldn’t have invited them over or given them my whiskey.”

“I agree, and so does he…now. He just didn’t think.”

“Your Tuck’s had too many run-ins with the law for me to buy into his innocence. He’s been indulged in Bonne Terre. Maybe because he’s a Wallace.”

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it-his last name? You were hoping something like this would happen. You deliberately hired my trouble-prone brother, set him up, so you could get back at me.”

He tensed at her accusation. “Since you’re so quick to blame others for his actions, I’m beginning to see why he’s so irresponsible.”

Heat flared in her eyes. He noted that she was breathing irregularly, that her breasts were trembling.

“You have no right to use him this way. He’s practically an orphan. I was twelve when he was born. He was two when our father ran off, four when Mother married Thurman and he adopted us. If my stepfather was hard on me by pushing me in school, demanding I excel and graduate two years ahead of my class, he constantly browbeat Tuck, calling him a wimp and a sissy who’d never amount to anything. I was the favorite. Tuck could never measure up.

“After our mother died, he was raised by a stepfather who disliked him and then by aunts who cared more for their own children, and later by his grandmother, who’s become too old and lenient. And I admit, I don’t come home often enough.”

Zach had figured all that out for himself. The kid had no direction. She and Viola were protective of Tuck, but didn’t demand enough responsibility from the boy.

“And what do you do-you put him in temptation’s way so you can get at me,” she repeated in a shaky tone. “Since he’s been in trouble before, if you press charges and he’s tried and convicted, he could be locked up for a long time. You knew that when you hired him. If this gets out to the media, there will be a frenzy.”

Zach paced to the window. “If you believe I deliberately used Tuck to hurt you, you wouldn’t believe anything I told you to defend myself. So, I won’t bother.”

“Oh, please. You threatened me the last time I saw you. I think you’ve ordered me here because you intend to make good on that threat!”

Yes, he wanted to yell.

I want to sleep with you so badly I’d do almost anything to accomplish that!

But then the intensity of her pleading look made him jerk his gaze from hers.

She was afraid of him.

He didn’t want her fear. He wanted her warm and passionate and wild, as she’d been the first time.

He strode back to the table and picked up the legal documents in which he’d accused her younger brother of a felony.

When he saw his grip on the papers made his tendons stand out, Zach knew he was dangerously close to losing control. What was her hold over him?

By all rights he should have the upper hand in this situation. Her brother had brought thugs to his home to rip him off. He had every right to demand justice. But Tuck, who’d trusted him, needed help. He needed direction. Zach remembered how he himself had been derailed as a kid due to vengeful adult agendas.

Feeling torn between his ruthless desire and his personal code of ethics, Zach threw the documents onto the table. Then he glared at Summer fiercely, willing revulsion into his gaze.

But she was wide-eyed, vulnerable. Her perfect face was tight-lipped and pale; her shoulders slumped. She’d said she never wanted to see him again, but she’d come today. With a career like hers, she’d probably been busy as hell, but she’d come because she was genuinely worried about her brother and wanted to help him.

When she’d thanked Zach for getting the right doctors, he’d seen real gratitude in her eyes. And he’d liked pleasing her. Too much. In that white dress, which clung in all the right places, she looked young and innocent-not to mention breathtakingly sexy.

He wanted her in his bed. He wanted revenge for all that she’d done to him.

Do what she’s accused you of. Use Tuck. Make your demands.

Yet something held him back.

For years, he’d told himself he hated her, had willed himself to hate her. But when he’d held her and kissed her at her grandmother’s house, his hate had been tempered by softer, more dangerous emotions.

He’d once believed that if he had enough money and power, he would never be vulnerable to the pull of love again.

But now here she was, with her golden hair smelling of perfume and shimmering with coppery highlights so bright they dazzled him, with her lips full and moist, with her long-lashed eyes smoldering with repressed need.

Was she lonely, too? He wanted to hold her against his body and find out.

But more than that, fool that he was, he wanted to protect her. And her idiot brother.

He had to get out of here, go somewhere where he could think this through.

To her, he snarled, “This meeting’s canceled.” Then he punched the intercom and spoke to his lawyer’s secretary. “Tell Davis to take over.”

“I don’t understand,” Summer whispered. “What about Tuck?”

“I’ll deal with you two later.”

She let out a frightened sigh that cut him to the quick. “Zach, please…”

He wanted to turn to make sure she was all right.

Instead, he shrugged his broad shoulders and sucked in a breath.

To hell with her.

Without a backward glance, he strode out of the room.

Three

He was impossible! Arrogant! Rude!

If he’d slapped her, Zach couldn’t have hurt Summer more than he had when he’d turned his back on her and walked out.

Fisting her hands, she got up and ran after him. But with his long legs, the elevator doors were closing before she caught up to him.

“Zach, you’ve got to listen-”

His glare was indifferent and cold as the doors slammed together.

“Well, you’ve sure got him on the run. You must have scared the hell out of him,” Davis said, chuckling behind her. “That’s not so easy to do. Usually he shreds his adversaries.”

Zach’s attorney looked slim and handsome in his tailored Italian suit and prematurely gray hair. He had been a year or two older than she in high school, but she and he had never been close. Davis worked for Zach now, not her.

Her heart swelled with uncertainty. She was afraid to say anything to Davis because whatever she said would be repeated to Zach. She couldn’t risk damaging Tuck’s chances.

“Where do you think he went?” she asked.

“We’ve got a lot of legal work to wrap up, so he’s in town for a few days. He spent his morning at the construction site, and he didn’t mention having any other meetings this afternoon, so maybe he went home. I’d leave him alone for now, let him settle down. Don’t push him into making a rash decision about Tuck. Believe me, he’ll call you when he’s ready.”

But wouldn’t it be better to deal with him now, when he wasn’t ready? Wouldn’t that give her an advantage?

Besides she was under contract to perform in New York, and her calendar was full. She didn’t have a second to waste. No way could she stay here indefinitely without major consequences to her career. Directors, producers and other actors were depending on her.

Acting on a mixture of intuition and desperation, she went out to her rental car and followed the winding bayou road to the old Thibodeaux place.

His pale, beige antebellum-style home had a wide front veranda and ten stately columns. Weeds grew in the flower beds, and the grass was overgrown. Wild passion flowers had taken over the edges of the yard. She rang the bell and nobody answered, making her wonder why he didn’t have adequate staff.

When she began to pace the veranda, she saw it had a few rotten boards and was in need of a thorough sweeping. She peered through the smudged pane of a front window. Inside, she saw stacks of boxes on the dusty, scarred floors of the palatial rooms.

Apparently, his people hadn’t finished moving him in. Was he even here?

When she rang the bell again with no answer, she decided to walk around back by way of a redbrick path that lay in the shade of vast oak trees that needed a good trimming. All the forest-green shutters were peeling, as well.

The mansion had been built a decade before the Civil War and had served as a Yankee headquarters.

Now, the house and yard needed love and lots of money, but with enough of both, it could be a beautiful home for some lucky family. Had Zach bought it because he was thinking of settling down? Marrying and having children? Little dark-haired boys or girls? She imagined them playing out in the yard and hated the way the vision tugged at her heart.

A gleaming silver Mercedes was parked in front of Zach’s three-car garage. His car? How many did the man own?

Seeing the low, white-picket fence, also in need of fresh paint, encircling the pool, she opened the gate and stepped gingerly through the high weeds to let herself inside.