From her crouched position filling the copy machine drawer, Isabelle spied her cousin Kendrick in the doorway and knew the next few minutes would be worse than a bad case of chicken pox. Irritating as hell and no scratching allowed. Already he blocked her only exit from the cramped room—that was no accident. She drew a searing breath and straightened to her full height, determined to confront him.

Kendrick wore black chinos and a white Oxford shirt, but the preppy clothes couldn’t hide the predator. With a shudder, she remembered everything about him she would rather forget. Despite her resolve, the small room pressed in, and she backed away.

Damn.

His leer forced her to dig her heels into the floor and a relentless gnawing tore at her stomach.

Lawyer mode. Now.

"Kendrick, it’s been a while."

Three years, two months and thirteen days.

"I’m here to see my father," he said. "I saw you in here. Thought I’d say hello."

She leaned against the copy machine, folded her arms and squeezed until her fingernails bit into her biceps. After years spent grappling to rise above her brokenness, something in his tone—that confident, you’ll-never-get-me attitude—shattered her. "Well, I’m sure your father is waiting for you."

"I’m a few minutes early."

"Your father prides himself on the comfortable waiting area. Maybe you can find something to read while you wait."

Kendrick ignored her suggestion and moved into the compact room. She remained still, but tracked him with her eyes, watching him until he halted a foot from her. Too close.

A quick glance across his shoulder revealed the safety of the outer corridor where two associates spoke in hushed voices. Assistance was nearby if needed, but screaming for help against the boss’s son? How humiliating. Not to mention having to explain it. "I have a client in my office."

He inched closer, and Isabelle held up a hand to stop him. Silly her for believing he would let her leave. She had to get away.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

Okay. Deep breath. She concentrated on diffusing the internal bedlam this man caused. Get a grip. Don’t give him the control. Don’t look at him.

After a few seconds, her thundering pulse settled to its normal rhythm. She could do this.

"I’m in the middle of a client meeting." She turned, made the copy she’d come in for, grabbed her papers and attempted to push by him.

Kendrick sidestepped to block her exit. Unbelievable. She was trapped in here with him. Close enough to feel his breath on her skin.

"I only need a couple of minutes, Isabelle."

Never. He didn’t deserve it. Not after what he’d taken from her already.

She met his gaze straight on, their eyes locking for an instant. "I don’t have time, Kendrick."

"I have an offer for you."

Any offer from him could result in her losing a slice of her soul. Her answer would certainly be no. She found triumph in that. Telling him no. Definitively.

She’d let him say what he needed to, indulge in saying no and then boot him out. "Two minutes."

"Oh, Isabelle. You do amuse me."

She made a show of checking her watch. "Now it’s one minute."

"You know I’ve bought property in Ohio, correct?"

Oh, she knew. She was thankful every day that the state of Pennsylvania normally provided a barrier between them. Living on the Jersey Shore rewarded her with a sense of ease, and Kendrick being in the area chipped that comfort. "If you need legal advice, talk to someone else. I won’t be objective."

He laughed, his big white teeth flashing. Isabelle ground the heel of her black pump into the floor. Her leg ached from the pressure, but the pain would keep her focused.

"Anyway," he said. "I’d like to have you visit. Take a look at the place. Maybe stay in one of the bungalows. It’s a wonderful piece of property."

"No."

He held up his hands again. "I know you’re still angry over the misunderstanding, but let’s put it behind us. We’re family. I know my father would appreciate you letting go of the hostility. Come see the compound. Stay awhile. You’ll be taken care of. Any need or want you have will be fulfilled by one of the staff members."

What was all this babbling about his compound?

She narrowed her eyes and let his comment about his father—her boss—roll off her. Convincing herself to accept a job from Kendrick’s father hadn’t been easy, but working at one of New Jersey’s top criminal defense firms would catapult her career. Her cousin’s goading wouldn’t jeopardize that. "I need to get back to work."

"Not staff, really," he continued. "Tenants, I guess. Fifty of us live on the property. Some in the main house and some in bungalows scattered throughout the hundred acres. You’d have your own place, of course."

A flicker of perverse excitement twinkled in his blue-green eyes, and sickness swirled in her stomach. She needed to get him out of there before the toxic waste he spewed consumed her. "I’m not interested."

Kendrick reached down and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, but made no move to leave. Idiot.

And yet, she remained wedged in the room. With a client waiting in her office. The brutal pressure of these few minutes finally overtook her, and a chill penetrated her bones, puckering her skin.

Don’t let him win.

He tried the slick smile that always worked on the little girl she’d once been, and she imagined him bursting into flames.

"I need you, Isabelle. There are…things happening and I could use your legal expertise. I promise I’ll take good care of you." He dragged his gaze over her body. "I always did."

Sick, sick, sick.