"My inheritance."

"Aye. It's substantial. More than three million pounds."

She blinked. "What's that in dollars?"

"Ahhh, let me see then…oh my. At today's rate of exchange, that would be six million dollars, give or take."

She pulled the telephone away from her ear and stared at it.

"Miss MacLellan? Kira? Have ye fainted dead away, then?"

Blinking, she brought the phone back to her ear. "Is this some kind of a joke? Or one of those international scams or something? Are you going to ask for my social security or bank account numbers next?"

He laughed. It was a warm, deep sound that stroked her senses through the shock and disbelief currently taking up most of her attention. "Are you as lovely as you sound, Kira MacLellan?"

"I…" Her face heated at the compliment that sounded sincere, though it couldn't be. She hadn't even met the man. He was a stranger on the phone. And yet it felt like more.

"I suggest ye place a call to a solicitor of your own choosin'. Give him my number here. He'll be quite able to verify this is all legitimate."

"I will, believe me."

"And glad of it, I am. Once you've done that to your satisfaction ring me back. I'll help you get your travelin' arrangements in place. All right, then?"

"Sure," she said, not believing it for a minute.

"All right, then. Have a lovely day."

Kira hung up the telephone and the whispers that had long since haunted her called her closer. So she turned toward the bedroom of the small efficiency apartment she rented in the small-town city of Cortland , New York . It was on Main Street , which was convenient, since her job tending bar at Hairy Tony's was only a few steps away, and her classes at the State University of New York were within bicycle distance.