The moment she saw Spencer’s face, Kayla knew several things:

• Spencer had nothing to do with the agreement.
• Spencer had real feelings for her.
• Spencer thought she had betrayed him.

She couldn’t explain how she knew those things, but she did. It was all right there in his eyes, at least for someone who took the time to look past the polished exterior and see the man underneath.

She didn’t chase after him. Nor did she bother trying to explain. He wouldn’t be of a mind to listen. She couldn’t really blame him, either. Twice now she had told him she wasn’t interested. For him to assume she was invoking the “three strikes and you’re out” rule would be perfectly reasonable.

Besides, the man obviously had trust issues. If there was a downside to having all that wealth and power, it was that he had to be on his guard all the time. How many people had tried to use him for one thing or another, all while blowing sunshine up his ass?

Oh, Spencer Dumas was no poor little rich boy, she knew that. She had lived in the area long enough to have heard his name come up often in the local rumor mill. Most of the time, what people had to say about him was punctuated with clucks of their tongues and head shakes of disappointment.

As if all those tongue-clucking hypocrites had the right to pass judgment.

She and Spencer ... they had a lot in common, if she ignored the whole wealth and power thing. They were both considered “bad” people; their actions, admittedly not their proudest moments, frowned upon by local society. They both had manipulative, controlling parents who cared more about themselves than they did their offspring. They shared a love of creative, passionate sex ... and they were both really, really good at it.

Maybe that was how she had known what he felt when they had locked eyes—she knew exactly what she would have thought had their situations been reversed and she had seen him walking out of Dumas Senior’s office.

The question was: what was she going to do about it?

As Kayla drove home, she asked herself a lot of hard questions. Surprisingly enough, the answers turned out to be incredibly simple. All she had to do was listen to her heart.

Her mother was waiting for her, her eyes bright with greed and Scotch. “I am so proud of you! My daughter, the multi-millionaire! You’re set for life, and you didn’t even have to marry to do it!”

“Mom—”

“Where shall we go, hmm? I hear California is nice, or maybe Texas. Lots of oil men in Texas! Or the Keys. Yes, the Florida Keys!”

“Mom—”

“Oh, listen to me going on and on when my daughter is a travel agent! I bet you have some wonderful ideas. You’ll know all the best places, of course.”

“Mom, stop. I didn’t sign the contract.”

Patricia’s face went blank for a moment, then she laughed. “Good one, Kayla Rose. As if you would be stupid enough to walk away from five million dollars and a fresh start away from this Podunk town.”

Kayla’s lips thinned, and Patricia’s smile faded, her jubilation turning to horror.

“You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t. Oh, Kayla, how could you?”

“It wasn’t right, Mom.”

“Right!” Patricia was shrieking now. “Are you kidding me? What could possibly be wrong with five million dollars! Haven’t you learned anything from my mistakes?”

“That’s the thing, Mom; I have learned something.”

Patricia let loose with a string of slightly slurred profanities until Kayla put her hand up.

“Enough. This is my life, not yours. If you can’t accept that, there’s the door.”

Her mother’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You are throwing me out?”

“No, Mom, I’m giving you a choice.”

Patricia huffed. “Well, I guess I know where I stand. After all I’ve done for you! This was your chance, Kayla. A chance to make a better life for both of us, and you screwed it up, as usual. You are definitely your father’s daughter.”

The familiar stab didn’t hurt as much as it used to. Or maybe Kayla was just too numb to feel it.

Kayla didn’t remember a lot about her father. It was hard to picture his face; nearly impossible to recall what his bear hugs had felt like.

She had vague memories of him when she was very young; fuzzy images of him teaching her how to ride a bike and taking her along with him to his company softball games where she was the honorary “bat girl.” Those memories were the good ones, the ones she wished she could hold onto better.

Other memories were clearer, like the shouting matches her parents used to have late at night after she had gone to bed. Patricia would complain about not having enough money; her father would say he was working as hard as he could.

The older she got, the more she understood. Back then, she had taken her mother’s side more often than not, wanting the pretty, expensive things her friends had. She hadn’t realized how fleeting those things were, how little they mattered.

Her father had been a good man. His biggest flaw was that he had fallen in love with her mother.

Maybe Patricia was right and she really was like her dad.

She could only hope.

Kayla exhaled heavily as her mother stomped off into the guest room.

“Well, that went well,” she murmured. Her hand was shaking slightly as she poured a glass of water from the tap, the stress of the morning’s events catching up to her.

She had never spoken to her mother like that before, but it was long overdue. If she wanted her mother to respect her as an adult and treat her as such, then she had to start acting like one. Step one was taking control of her own life and to stop trying to live by everyone else’s rules.

Her new plan, the one that had been steadily taking shape since her visit to Dumas Industries, was as terrifying as it was exciting, but she was going to do it. She’d had enough of living day to day, content to exist but nothing more.

Summoning her courage, Kayla grabbed her phone and her laptop, and began putting her plan into motion.