CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FIVE – A PLOY FOR POWER

As her uninvited guests filed out, Kayla felt the eyes of all three men bore into her with tusa mixtures of resentment and calculation. The message was clear - this wasn't over. Not by a long shot. Once the door clicked shut behind them, Kayla released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding in an explosive rush. "God...I could just...arrrghhh!" She slammed her fist against the metal tray with a clang, needing to vent the impotent rage thrumming through her limbs. How could they be so brazen, so utterly mercenary? A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she turned back to find Lance watching her, those lucid blue eyes filled with tender concern. "Come here," he murmured, voice rough with disuse. Kayla obeyed automatically, sinking into the chair and gripping his hand in a viselike clasp. His palm was warm, solid, grounding. There was life in those fingers, not the deathly chill from weeks ago. He was still here with her, for now. "It's okay," he rasped, giving her hand a