She thought for a moment, then decided not to play any more games with him about this. It was time for him to see who she was, insanity and all. “I’m not actually a multimillionaire.”

“It’s fairly common knowledge that you’re an heiress.”

“Yes, well …” She bit her lip.

He sighed. “Why do I think I’m going to hear something really wacky?”

“I guess that depends on your perspective.”

“Go on. I’m still listening.”

“I’m broke, okay?”

“Broke?”

“Never mind. You wouldn’t understand in a million years.” She walked away from him.

As she crossed the street toward the beach shop, he came up next to her. It irritated her to see that he looked disapproving, although she should have expected it from Mr. I’ll-Take-the-High-Road, who could be the poster boy for grown-up preachers’ kids, even though he was in denial about it.

“You blew all that money the first chance you got, didn’t you? That’s why you live in such a small place.”

She turned on him in the middle of the street. “No, I didn’t blow it. I splurged a little the first year, but believe me, there was plenty left.”

He took her arm and pulled her out of the traffic onto the curb. “Then what happened?”

“Don’t you have something better to do than harass me?”

“Not really. Bad investments? Did you put everything you had in vegetarian crocodile meat?”

“Very funny.”

“You cornered the market in bunny slippers?”

“How about this?” She stopped in front of the beach shop. “I bet everything I had on the Stars in the last game, and some dickhead threw into double coverage.”

“That was low.”

She took a deep breath and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. “Actually, I gave it all away a few years ago. And I’m not sorry.”

He blinked, then laughed. “You gave it away?”

“Having trouble with your hearing?”

“No, really. Tell me the truth.”

She glared at him and went inside the shop.

“I don’t believe this. You really did.” He came up behind her. “How much was there?”

“A lot more than you have in your portfolio, sonny boy.”

He grinned. “Come on. You can tell me.”

She headed for a bin of footwear, then wished she hadn’t, since it was filled with neon plastic sandals.

“More than three million?”

She ignored him and reached for the plainest ones, a disgusting pair with silver glitter imbedded in the vamp.

“Less than three?”

“I’m not saying. Now, go away and don’t bother me.”

“If you tell me, I’ll take you over to that boutique, and you can put whatever you want on my credit card.”

“You’re on.” She threw down the silver glitter sandals and made for the door.