and chuckles filtered through the cracked door. Sheriff Blaine and the deputy came back into the office. Evidently, Melody was on her way home.
Kyndal brushed at the dirt on her jeans, trying to make herself as presentable as possible. Climbing the cave wall had left streaks down the front and sides of her clothes. Running her hands down her hair, she could feel how the humidity had wreaked havoc on it.
Maybe the sheriff would feel sorry for her or think her slightly deranged.
The voices moved closer to the door.
“We questioned the kids. They swear they don’t know her. The bags turned up nothing. No pot. Not even a trace. She’s not who we’re looking for.”
Kyndal’s breath came out in a rush. They thought she’d been making a drug drop!
“Even so, she was trespassing in a clearly marked area.” The voice was smooth and deep, and Kyndal’s stomach fluttered at the sound of it. She imagined the tall, dark and handsome deputy it might belong to. “Professional photographers know better than to go on someone’s property without permission. I mean, she’s not the paparazzi, right?”
The words stung.
They laughed together, and Kyndal’s eyes burned with indignation. She’d always prided herself on her professionalism. They knew nothing about her or her work. Hadn’t they ever had an occasional lapse in judgment for an exciting opportunity? Everybody did. It wasn’t a crime. It was part of being human.
Of course, trespassing was a crime.
Anger came on the heels of the other emotions. Anger at the sheriff who had the audacity to think she might be connected with drugs.
Anger at the deputy who obviously considered her an amateur.
But mostly, anger at herself, for getting into this asinine situation.
The door to the office opened wide. The sheriff took his time, stopping to peer into the vacant cells before he finally unlocked hers.
“Go on out into my office. We have some questions we want to ask you. Made your call yet?”
Kyndal nodded and handed him the telephone. She took deep, calming breaths as she made her way down the narrow hall and through the door into the sun-brightened office. She squinted at the figure standing by the window.
Not a deputy, unless he was dressed for undercover work. Jeans and a cashmere crewneck? Expensive taste. Her eyes moved up his frame. Tall. Dark. And, from what she could see of his profile, handsome, indeed.
She blinked.
He turned and her eyes met the steeliness of his rock-hard gaze. Her heart made a quick jaunt into her throat and then plummeted to the bottom of her stomach. The face was a bit fuller. The jaw a tad firmer. The hair several inches shorter. But the eyes hadn’t changed at all.
“Chance?” Had the sheriff called her a lawyer? Was her situation that serious? She locked her knees to keep them from buckling. “Why are you here?” The words came out startled and clipped—harsher than she would have used in more congenial circumstances.
A number of emotions crossed his features and she read them as easily as she always had. Confusion. Understanding. Amusement.
So he found her predicament amusing? She held back the smile of recognition and greeting that had been on the edges of her lips, keeping her face neutral and composed.
Chance gave a chuckle, and her mind flashed to the deep voice she’d been hearing—the one she thought belonged to a deputy. Chance’s. How could she not have recognized it?
His dark eyes danced, and his full mouth turned up slightly at one end as he walked over to her and extended his hand. “It’s good to see you, too, Kyndal.”
She clasped his hand. “Did they call you to be my attorney?” A tremor moved up her arm when she spoke the last word. His grip tightened and he covered her hand with his other one. The touch was warm and familiar; it should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. It made her want to curl up in a fetal ball.
The three worst moments in her life—when Chance broke up with her, when the website got closed and now this. She cringed. The website was the only one that had nothing to do with him.
He gave her a questioning look as his smile broadened. “No, I’m not here to represent you.”
His eyes held hers and she was back in Mrs. Cooper’s junior English class, meeting his gaze. She pulled her hand free, not wanting to give him the opportunity to feel it tremble again.
Kyndal’s mind raced. Why would Chance Brennan be standing there in front of her? He was a lawyer…but he wasn’t there to be her lawyer. Was he the prosecuting attorney here to press charges? Oh. My. God! “Chance, I can explain all this. I wanted to get some shots of a cave and the only one I knew of was the one where we, um…” Don’t bring that up! Her mouth was moving too fast. She paused to let her brain catch up. “The one we…we went to—on the lake. There were signs posted about trespassing, but I wasn’t going to hurt anything.” Chance’s eyes danced with amusement. Inside, he was laughing at her! “I’m not stupid, like you’re thinking.”
“Kyndal, I—”
“I know I shouldn’t have trespassed.” She talked faster to explain before he went into his prosecuting spiel. “I could read the signs. But sometimes professional photographers like me—” she emphasized the words “—have to take chances to get the shot we need. As long as nobody gets hurt and property doesn’t get damaged, it’s usually not a problem.” She swallowed hard. “My boots might have done a little damage to one of the walls, but tell Mr. Turner I’ll be glad to pay for the damage.” What if he was unreasonable and tried to make her pay a bunch of money she didn’t have? “As long as it’s within reason. I mean, is he even approachable?” She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.
“It’s okay, Kyn. It’s me.” Chance reached out. His finger brushed her cheek in a gesture that shook her to her core.
She turned away quickly, not letting him finish. “I know it’s you, but you’re working for him.”
A movement caught her attention. The sheriff crossed his arms and leaned against a file cabinet, silently taking this all in. She’d forgotten about him. “Can you get me a lawyer?”
His eyebrows shot up at her sudden address, and he shrugged.
“Kyndal.” Chance’s voice was right behind her and then his hands were on her shoulders, turning her around to face him. “You don’t need a lawyer. I won’t be pressing charges.” The mature take-charge tone of his deeper-than-she-remembered voice screamed the changes in him. He was a man now. With very large, warm hands.
He was studying her, no doubt weighing the girl he had known against the woman before him.
Much as she hated to admit it, she hoped a few years had added more character and wisdom. And she found herself hoping he found those traits attractive. Not that it made any difference, of course. But she did hope he didn’t sigh with relief at his lucky escape.
No sigh. An appreciative smile instead. “I’m the owner, Kyn. I own that land, cave and all.”
His hands dropped to his sides, and her temperature dropped a few degrees at the loss of his touch. But the cooling-off period lasted only until his words sank in. He was the owner! He should’ve told her that first thing. Instead, he’d been having fun at her expense. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. “You’ve been enjoying this, haven’t you?” She lit into him full force. “Seeing me squirm. Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you came in?”
“I tried. You wouldn’t—”
“You should’ve tried harder.”
“Apparently.” He ran his hand down his face, and turned his attention to the sheriff. “Buck, Kyndal and I are…old friends.”
The dismissive