"You left your car behind."

"Like I had any choice! That damned Connor confiscated my keys." She blinked when Phil jingled the keys in the air. "You—You brought my car?"

"Yes. It's parked across the street."

"Oh. Thank you." She skirted the desk and approached him. "That was very kind of you," she grumbled.

"You're welcome." He dropped the keys into her outstretched hand. "Now, about my sponsorship…"

Her hand fisted around the keys. "There is no sponsorship. You can't force me to take anger management."

"I believe we can. It was the court's decision. If you want the lawsuits against you dropped, then you have to comply."

She tossed the keys on the desk. "Do I look like the kind of person who complies? Only cowards and trained monkeys comply. I'm a free spirit. Nobody's going to tell me what to do."

Phil couldn't help but smile. Vanda's words were almost identical to the speech he'd given his father nine years ago before he'd stormed out of Montana. "Then what do you plan to do about your anger problem?"

"I don't have an anger problem!" she yelled. With a groan, she pressed a hand to her forehead. "Why won't people stop trying to force me to do things against my will?"

"Believe me, I understand." Phil's father had tried to force him into a preplanned life. At the age of eighteen, he hadn't possessed the maturity or strength to fight his father. He'd simply left. Then his father had banished him from the pack. "Things don't always go the way we want them to. And it's very frustrating when there's nothing you can do to change it."

Vanda frowned at him. "Are you sympathizing with me just to get me to agree to the program?"

"I'm saying if you want to talk, I'll listen."

Her face grew pale and she tightened the whip around her waist with a jerky motion. "Why should I believe you care? You haven't bothered to see me in three years."