She’d been trained from birth to be little more than an intelligent, attractive ornament. Well-spoken, well-groomed, well-disciplined. It was all her family expected of her. No, Lee corrected. It was what had been expected of her. In that respect, she’d already failed.

What trick of fate had made it so impossible for her to fit the mold she’d been fashioned for? Since childhood she’d known she needed more, yet it had taken her until after college to store up enough courage to break away from the road that would have led her from proper debutante to proper matron.

When she’d told her parents she wasn’t going to be Mrs. Jonathan T. Willoby, but was leaving Palm Springs to live and work in Los Angeles, she’d been quaking inside. Not until later did she realize it had been their training that had seen her through the very difficult meeting. She’d been taught to remain cool and composed, never to raise her voice, never to show any vulgar signs of temper. When she’d spoken to them, she’d seemed perfectly sure of her own mind, while in truth she’d been terrified of leaving that comfortable gilt cage they’d been fashioning for her since before she was born.

Five years later, the fear had dulled, but it remained. Part of her drive to reach the top in her profession came from the very basic need to prove herself to her parents.

Foolish, she told herself, turning away from the vulnerability of the woman in the glass. She had nothing to prove to anyone, unless it was to herself. She’d come for a story, and that was her first, her only priority. The story was going to gel for her if she had to dog Hunter Brown’s footsteps like a bloodhound.

Lee looked down at her notebook again, and at the notes that filled less than a page. She’d have more before the day was over, she promised herself. Much more. He wouldn’t get the upper hand again, nor would he distract her from her purpose. As soon as she’d dressed and had her morning coffee, she’d look for Hunter. This time, she’d stay firmly behind the wheel.

When she heard the knock, Lee glanced at the clock beside her bed and gave a little sigh of frustration. She was running behind schedule, something she never permitted herself to do. She’d deliberately requested coffee and rolls for nine o’clock so that she could be dressed and ready to go when they were delivered. Now she’d have to rush to make certain she had a couple of solid hours with Hunter before check-out time. She wasn’t going to miss an opportunity twice.

Impatient with herself, she went to the door, drew off the chain and pulled it open.