Savannah Secrets

“I thought perhaps you might be eager to learn more about your past.”

“Ha! Not in the least. I don’t need any more skeletons in my closet.”

“Look, I’m aware that you find all this very amusing. But there are some serious issues to be dealt with. Whether you accept the money is your call, but you need to be aware of all the facts before you make a final decision. Surely you can see that? I need you to attend a meeting in the United States so that we can process the appropriate paperwork.”

Grant snorted. “You have to be joking? First you have the gall to come wasting my time when I’ve already told you I want nothing to do with your client’s estate, then you expect me to cross the pond because of this nonsense? Look, Ms. Hunter, I haven’t got time for any meetings except those of my choosing. And for the record, I don’t consider this amusing. Quite the opposite,” he bit back icily. “She can stuff her money where the sergeant stuffed the pudding.”

“Excuse me?”

“An old British expression, which I believe speaks for itself.”

Meredith remained silent, looking at him as she might a recalcitrant teenager who sat sulking and scowling into the flames.

“Well, Rowena had a great sense of humor,” she remarked finally, “and she probably would have found that funny. As for me—” she sat up straighter “—I just keep wondering how a savvy businessman like you could be so foolish.” Gallagher sent her a sharp look, but she plowed on. “Surely you didn’t get where you are today by making final decisions without deliberating. That’s a recipe for disaster, as you well know. I can inform you of all the facts, then leave you to make up your mind.”

Letting out a huff, Grant turned and looked at her with a new, arrested expression. His chin went up and his eyes pierced hers, as though seeing her for the first time. “You really aren’t going to leave me alone until you’ve hashed this damn thing out, are you?” he challenged.

“No, I’m not,” she agreed, a smile twitching her lips.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, get on with it, give me the scoop. Then you can legitimately go home and tell your boss that you did all you could to get me to accept the inheritance and that I refused. There, satisfied?” He quirked a cynical brow at her, his eyes never leaving her face.

“As I’m the boss, that won’t be necessary,” she retorted, eyeing the documents before her. “Now, as things stand at present, you have been declared undisputed heir to the Carstairs holdings. One of the provisos of the bequest is that you attend a meeting at Rowena’s house in Miami.”

“Which, since I’m refusing the lot, won’t be necessary,” he responded smoothly, leaning farther back in the armchair.

“Would you mind not interrupting until I’ve finished?” she shot back.

“Excuse me,” he said with exaggerated politeness.

“As I was saying, there are documents that must be signed and lodged in court. Then there’s the question of your sibling.”

“Sibling?” His hooded eyes shot up and he straightened. “What sibling?”

“You have a half sister.”

“Where in hell’s name did she come from?”

“Her name is Dallas Thornton. She’s nineteen years old and is the issue of your mother’s marriage to a man named Doug Thornton.”

“I see. Why didn’t the money go to her?”

“That, I’m afraid, is a mystery that has been bothering me ever since Rowena’s death. There seems to be no specific reason why Dallas should have been cut out of her will, but she was,” Meredith said, lifting the file. “Here, it might be easier if you took a look for yourself.”

Grant stayed quiet for a moment, then he leaned forward and reached for the file, taking it from her outstretched hand. His eyes skimmed rapidly over the contents.

“How can you be certain that I’m the rightful heir?” he asked finally. “There must be a number of Grant Gallaghers running 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?”