“Abs? Are you sure?”
Anticipating her need, he lifted her up, wrapping her jean-clad legs around his waist and adjusting position to lean her against the wall. They rode the same wavelength, hot, burning, and explosive.
“Now.” She couldn’t think past the carnal urgency when his lips created a fiery trail of need along her neck.
He pulled back briefly, their gazes colliding before his mouth crashed down on hers and his groan filled her mind.
Her body came to life under his insistent and commanding touch. Buttons ripped and plinked on the ceramic tile, scattering like her thoughts. Nothing mattered more than the next kiss, his tongue twining with hers, and the feel of his heat pressing between her thighs. Her jeans should’ve melted.
His arms were thick and strong wrapped around her while his weight pinned her against the wall. He tasted sharp, of lust, male, and hunger. She’d never felt him so unhinged.
She was breathless, not just from his overwhelming passion that mingled with her own to spiral her body to new heights, but from the desperation fueling them both. It would never be enough, could never be enough.
His hands moved over her skin then urged her legs down. In a flurry of movement, both their jeans lay on the floor before she could focus on the intoxication of him pressing his weight against her and the heat flooding her lower belly.
“Jesus, I want you now.” His voice equaled an aphrodisiac that called to her on the most basic level.
She pulled his head down to kiss him, wrapping one leg around his thighs. He smiled, a fierce savageness that consumed as well as provoked. It took an eternity to retrieve the foil and cover his impressive length.
The feel of his palms brushing over her lower back forced a shudder. He appeared every inch the warrior who took what he wanted, his entire focus directed at her. Again, he lifted her up. “Can you wrap your legs around me and hold on without hurting your shoulder?”
“What shoulder?”
The force of his first thrust knocked a small picture off the wall. His hands gripping her thighs held her in place for his invasion as her heels locked behind his back urged him faster, harder, needing everything he could give, everything he was.
Mindless with need and drunk on his power, she bit his neck, affirming her claim and marking him, superficial in the short run, to the depths of his soul for eternity.
He pulled back as if suddenly aware of their surroundings. “Abs?” The black of his pupils eclipsed the caramel just as his need edged out his softer side once again.
“More. I’m fine.” She’d have bruises on her back, hips, and thighs, relishing each one as confirmation of their equal but mindless craving. He was strong enough to stand up to her and smart enough to know when to take without asking. Confirmation of life after a near-death experience demanded a merging of souls.
She loved the taste of him, the sight of his losing control, and the knowledge he would always be there to catch her. Her breath came in pants and reflected her body’s climbing toward the pinnacle of lovemaking, that quintessential moment where everything stopped, her breath locked in her lungs until she screamed his name.
His own hoarse shout followed as he slammed forward one more time and held her in place. She felt him pulsing inside her, the involuntary movements emptying his seed.
His weight pressing her back comforted and echoed his need to surround and consume her. One heartbeat at a time, their breathing came under control and his softer side emerged.
“Jesus, sweetheart. I’m sorry to be so rough.” Remorse tinted his words, muffled against her neck.
“If I were a man, I’d have slammed you through the wallboard.” Her chuckle got absorbed in his kiss. “I’ve heard near-death experiences can bring about explosive sex, but I never imagined it like this. After my kidnapping—”
“I was afraid of traumatizing you. You never know how strong a person is until they’ve survived the depths of hell and emerged on the other side.”
“I need more. Can we call my brothers and hold them off a bit longer?”
“You read my mind.”
THE VIEW FROM her office rivaled everything she thought she’d ever want while slogging her way through law school. Long hours of study and hard work had channeled her career path toward success. The partners were thrilled with her progress.
Recent events began weaving a thread of malcontent with her life’s choices. Her workaholic boyfriend revealed a side of her she’d never known existed. Together, they were forging a future filled with shared experiences, new dreams, and eventually, a family of her own.
Thinking of family and how they’d all showed up on Royden’s doorstep before Royden escorted her to work, she smiled. They all had the best of intentions. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much information to share and they left as frustrated as they’d arrived.
In the courtyard below, picnic tables stood ready for those wanting fresh air during lunch breaks. When the weather allowed, she enjoyed the sun and breeze on her face instead of piped air through a vent.
The dream of private practice, one with her office situated by a park or open country kept her working overtime. Most people didn’t realize what a cutthroat business it could be. If a student wasn’t born with a silver spoon, the first years after graduation entailed tons of student loans. She’d been lucky enough to have a few scholarships.
The front of the moderate-sized firm overlooked the hustle and bustle along the busy city streets and had energized her at one time. Now, it reminded her of the world’s chaos and all the potential drawbacks of city life. It was time to make a change, yet outstanding debt and the need for stability held her hostage.
Litigation encompassed a field she’d aspired to dominate while experience opened her eyes to the devious machinations of particular bottom-feeders. Over time, the subtle shift of her work’s focus changed to include the underdog fighting corporate money and overwhelming odds.
“Abby? Your nine o’clock called and said she’d be a few minutes late. Her daughter is sick and needed to see the doctor.” Mitzie set an insulated cup on the desk. “I ran down and grabbed a latte for you.”
“Thanks, Mitzie. I really needed that this morning.”
“How’s the shoulder?” Her assistant winced as she nodded toward Abby’s arm.
“Just a few stitches that’ll come out in another week. The bullet missed bone and major arteries. I was lucky.”
“I think you need another girl’s night out. You could bring your hunky detective.” Mitzie’s sly grin demonstrated her obvious appreciation of Royden’s physique. “I have a friend, Jenna, who took me to a club where the music is great, drinks are cheap, and the men are drool-worthy, not that you need the latter. Hell, your entire family is a treasure trove of DNA’s sexiest genes.” Mitzie fingered the flower-shaped necklace at her neck.
“Let me heal a bit first.” Abby leaned forward for a better look at Mitzie’s pendant. “That’s pretty. Where’d you find it?”
“Oh, I saw it while window shopping with Jenna and Linda. It’s a friendship necklace. They each have matching ones.”
“Very nice. What kind of flowers are they?”
“A cluster of freesias. All three of us are getting into a gardening club. It’s a lot of fun and so soothing.” Mitzie held the heavy-looking piece out for Abby to see.
“Hmm. Two of my brothers prefer starting food fights to relieve stress, especially if it’s something I’ve tried to bake. I’ve never seen the appeal in tossing cake, myself.”
“I don’t have any siblings, but when I was younger, my friends and I used to have strawberry fights when we were supposed to be picking them. We’d come in covered with red splotches.”
“Royden and I talked about having a small garden this spring, maybe grow some green beans and tomatoes. My parents have a huge garden every year, and I used to love helping out. Now that schooling is over and work is settling down, it might be a good idea.”
“You and Royden
make a great couple. You’re very lucky.”
“Don’t worry. You’re young. The time will come when a man sweeps you off your feet.”
“Maybe. I thought Bradley might’ve been the one. As it turned out, he wanted what most men think they deserve. What a piece of scum.”
Two years at the firm indicated the assistant eager to learn and please, but manipulative and amoral men soon crushed her naivety. “Time and experience will help you navigate away from men like my supervisor. I can picture you with a houseful of kids and the proverbial picket fence after you’ve put yourself through law school.”
“I’m taking my LSATs again this fall. Keep your fingers crossed that I get a higher score this time.”
“Won’t need to. You work hard and you’re smart. You’ll make it. Just keep your eye on the prize.” Abby smiled. “As far as going out, we’ll do it. Soon.” Their friendship was the only thing preventing Mitzie from asking Royden to dinner with the expectation of breakfast in the morning. Despite her enjoyment of the opposite sex, her assistant respected boundaries.
Mitzie’s infectious attitude usually drew Abby out for a much-needed, carefree release, yet the risk was too great. It was one thing for Royden to jeopardize his life to stay close; he was a cop and connected to her soul, accepting the risk. His determination to protect rivaled her brothers’. She couldn’t justify endangering anyone else.
“I’d like that. As soon as it’s safe, we’ll plan a full weekend of fun. The whole works. What d’ya say?”
“Sure, but I know how you suffer from cabin fever with just a bit of snow. I bet Royden and your brothers are smothering you. You need to get out and get your mind off snipers and kidnappers.”
Abby nodded. “Actually, Royden is taking me caving next weekend, but he probably has the National Guard on speed dial.” It was difficult to balance Royden’s need for security and her need for independence.
“Ooh, are you going to the Sea Lion Caves, maybe Hug Point? I’ve been to both. When we took the elevator down to the lower levels in the caverns... wow. It was amazing. It’s so romantic.”
“Actually, we’re staying inland.” Checking her calendar, she repeated the business name and wondered if it would be as charming as she’d imagined. “Though I have heard about Hug Point. They say you have to go at low tide, so you don’t end up stranded, but it has a lot to offer. Back in the old days, the sheer volume of passing stagecoaches carved wheel ruts into the rock when traveling around the headland. Even at low tide, they had to be careful and hug the coast. Hence, the name.”
“Hmm, you’re a treasure trove of trivia. There’s also hiking through nature trails.” Mitzie loved outdoor activities.
“Yeah, I love them, too. My family used to do a lot of hiking.”
“Be careful down there. You’ve had enough adventures for a lifetime.” A frown bit into the smooth skin of Mitzie’s face.
“No kidding. I think I about gave Royden a heart attack in New Zealand.”
“Any news on that?”
“No. They really didn’t have much to go on. And since we were only visiting, they would’ve chalked it up to a random act if it hadn’t been for the doctored photo someone graciously delivered to our car.”
“Ya know—I use to complain that I had a boring life. I’ve revisited that opinion and changed my mind. I’ll take boring any day.” Mitzie held her hand up, her thumb and index finger an inch apart. “I can always find a little bit of excitement on my own. However, the offer still stands. When you’re ready and it’s safe to go, give me a heads up, and we’ll paint the town.”
“I could use a carefree night with the girls.”
“Do they think it was related to your work or someone in your personal life?”
“No way of knowing yet, but they’ll get to the bottom of it.”
A subtle throat clearing alerted them to someone in the outer office before a child’s voice declared the next appointment had arrived.
Abby straightened her shoulders. The client was determined to put distance between herself and her soon-to-be ex, if only for a while. Protecting her child remained the mother’s top priority, yet she had no evidence to support her suspicion of the father’s intent to harm. Considering the amount of money at stake, no distance would be enough.
The divorce case had landed in her lap by preference of the client, much to the dismay of the supervising attorneys. The firm stood to gain not only a handsome fee from the research needed but also the notoriety of helping one of Oregon’s elite—assuming Abby survived long enough to close the case.
Chapter Four
Abby worked hard to maintain a good working relationship with other attorneys. Everyone benefited when opposing counsel could sort areas of disagreement and help their clients move toward a settlement. Sharing agreed upon information saved time and money in reaching stipulations without compromising either side’s position.
And then there’s always one bad apple.
Combined with the infuriating husband who could’ve written a book on hiding assets, the opposing attorney sitting on the opposite aisle made a matching pair. Her counterpart smirked, smug in his superiority. The gap in his teeth defined his appearance while his nickname of Horus remained a mystery.
The occasional habit of smoothing the light scruff on his jaw provided insight to areas of uncomfortable questioning. She’d yet to turn her back on him, preferring to keep him in her peripheral sight especially when cross-examining his client.
“Mr. Marchem, isn’t it true you’re having an affair with Clara Wagil, hired to watch your son?” After benign preliminary inquiries, Abby held a mental picture of the witness’ normal mannerisms.
“No.” Short, to the point. The husband’s succinct answer earned a faint nod from opposing counsel.
“Then can you explain why she visited your office building at least a dozen times last month?” Abby arched a brow as if she knew more than her client realized. She did, but it wasn’t time to reveal those facts. During discovery, he’d failed to reveal large sums of income, instead, laundering the funds through his car wash franchise, one of his many holdings.
“The office building is quite large and contains well over four dozen businesses. I have no idea who she visited or why.” The witness radiated a dominance in need of a reality check.
Abby frowned, shaking her head as if stymied. “So, you never saw her in your office?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I see. Are you aware that Ms. Wagil has a child? I see on her employment application she noted she had none in the remarks section.”
“I’m not aware of her family situation. It’s none of my business. If she lied, she must have had her reasons, yet it hasn’t affected her work, so I really don’t care.”
“Okay. You have no business dealings with her, other than her providing child care for your two-year-old son?”
“Correct. We’ve already established that.”
“That’s all the questions for now.” The perfunctory inquiries all met with expected answers. With each response, his tells consisted of a slight squirm, looking at his attorney, and impossibly wide eyes when a question wasn’t to his liking.
Abby returned his smirk with a smile as he exited the witness stand.
“Your honor, I’d like to call Clara Wagil, who is sequestered in the jury room.”
Again, the men at opposing counsel’s table could’ve been a matched set—of stupidity. To date, she had no proof of the lawyer’s involvement in illegal activities. That issue was outside her scope of practice and concern. The judge, however, would investigate.
Shit’s about to get real, as Matt would say.
Taking a deep breath, she shed her façade of uncertainty, straightening her spine, and dropping the mask of doubt. The presiding judge was notorious for cracking down on counselors who practiced the dark art of sandbagging, so she had to tread lightly. Of the few exceptions, impeaching a witness topped the list and bolstered her confidence in
proceeding.
A bailiff escorted the next witness to the stand before the court registrar held the bible and swore her in. This was the gold mine.
Abby smiled to put the babysitter at ease. Dressed in conservative blouse and slacks, the young woman’s gaze bounced between the attorneys and the husband, the latter frowned as if in warning.
From the documentation obtained the prior day, it wasn’t clear if the nanny was complicit in the scheme or not, nor was that Abby’s concern. Again, it didn’t matter.
Initial questions defined the young woman’s role, length of employment, and specific duties. In her early twenties, she remained composed and open, if a little nervous.
“Ms. Wagil, what is the nature of your business in the office building on 314 West Avenue?”
“Banking. I make frequent deposits and withdrawals since I prefer to deal in cash.”
“Do you have any children?” Abby’s sidelong glance took in Horus’ confusion.
“Yes. I have a son.”
“How old is he?” Abby grinned when Horus wiped beads of perspiration from his brow.
“Two.”
“Does he share your last name?”
“No. He has his father’s last name, and I assure you, it’s quite legal even though I never married.”
“I see. I also see from the expense sheet you provided, that your total income barely covers your expenses. It must be very difficult to raise a child on this salary.”
“Objection, Your Honor. Relevance.” Her opponent’s snide expression morphed into a frown when Abby retrieved a folder from her table.
“One moment, please, and I will show relevance, Your Honor.”
“Overruled. You may proceed, but don’t waste my time.” Traditional black robes concealed the judge’s clothing but not her curiosity.
Turning back to her witness, Abby continued, “Are you having an affair with my client’s husband?”
“No.” Again, simple and direct. Tiny lines bracketed her eyes and mouth, her lips tucked between her teeth.
“Do you make extra money on the side, Ms. Wagil, or have a large sum stashed away on which you can draw?”
McAllister Justice Series Box Set Page 29
