Two hours later, she made her way to the Blaze practice facility. Bridgett was glad it was Tuesday and most of the team had the day off. She’d always tried to maintain some anonymity within her large, nosy family and she wasn’t sure how she felt about invading her brother’s playhouse, as it were. Stop kidding yourself. Her anxiety about being in the Blaze headquarters had nothing to do with Brody and everything to do with seeing Jay McManus again.
Blaze General Manager Hank Osbourne greeted her with a smile and a friendly handshake as he led Bridgett, Dan, Scott Turner, the firm’s investigator, and a paralegal, Maureen, toward the large conference room at the corner of the building. Maureen had to be prodded a bit as she openly gaped at the poster-sized pictures of Brody and his teammates that lined the hallways.
“We’re glad to have another Janik on our team, Bridgett,” Hank said as he pulled out a chair for her across from a wall of windows looking out over the outdoor practice facility. The view had even Scott and Dan gaping now. “Please, everyone help yourself to some refreshments and I’ll grab Jay so we can get the meeting started.”
An assortment of candies, fruits, and drinks was laid out on a counter next to the conference table. Dan and Scott each grabbed a can of soda while Maureen busied herself setting up her stenotype machine in the corner of the room. Bridgett removed the jacket of her pewter Versace suit and draped it carefully over a chair before taking her seat. She doubted she could eat anything because her stomach was a knot of nerves. Fiddling with the sleeves of her silk blouse, she tried to calm herself down. She hadn’t felt this jumpy since her first case out of law school. Stuart was lucky he was participating via a conference call because Bridgett thought she just might strangle him if he walked into the room right now.
Her hands balled into fists at the tall, dark-haired man who did enter the room, however. Looking immaculate in Hugo Boss—of course—Jay McManus greeted everyone assembled with a cursory nod before taking a seat at the head of the table. He punched a button on the phone box that connected him with Bridgett’s boss.
He and Stuart carried on with their conversation as if the others weren’t in the room. That suited Bridgett just fine. She kept her eyes focused on her notes in an effort to avoid the commanding aura that Jay put out, one that made all of her nerve endings tingle. Eventually, Hank and Scott were brought in to discuss how they would try to discredit the claims being made against the team.
“We haven’t been able to locate Ms. Knowles,” Hank said. “According to her attorney, she’s returned to her parents’ home in Virginia Beach. Donovan Carter spoke to the manager for the Sparks today and she said that, by all accounts, the young woman had been happy on the squad. Ms. Knowles is trying to break into modeling, so she frequently volunteered for the additional appearances.”
“Was the manager with the squad for the calendar photo shoot?” Bridgett spoke for the first time since entering the room, keeping her gaze on Hank.
“I believe she was, yes,” Hank replied. “The trip is one of the perks to being on the Sparks. The entire squad goes, all expenses paid.”
“We really have no way of knowing whether the manager was a party to the alleged events of that week or not, then. This is going to be one of those cases that boils down to the credibility of all the witnesses.” She tilted her head toward Scott, who sat beside her. “I’d like our investigator to be able to speak with the manager as well, if that’s all right.”
Hank nodded. “Of course. I’m sure Don would appreciate the help.”
“What do we know about the opposing lawyer?” Jay’s question seemed to be addressed to her and there was nothing Bridgett could do except meet his brilliant blue eyes. He leveled a hard stare at her and she had to work to keep from squirming. Jay McManus took no prisoners—especially when it came to his reputation. She knew this firsthand. But his words couldn’t affect her anymore. All she needed to do was tell her heart the same thing.
“She’s young and eager to make a name for herself,” she said. “I’ve no doubt she fed the information about the case directly to the blogger somehow. The Girlfriends’ Guide to the NFL has garnered some serious power in mobilizing public opinion, so it doesn’t surprise me that opposing counsel would make use of such a broad platform.”
Jay eyed her shrewdly. “I still have to wonder what the blogger gets from all this.”
“That makes two of us.” Hank sat forward in his chair. “That blogger has been a nuisance to this team for two years now. If nothing else, maybe we can compel this attorney to tell us who it is.”
“First things, first,” Stuart said from the comfort of his seat on an Amtrak train barreling toward Baltimore. “Let’s get these charges to go away and then we can continue your quest to unmask the mystery blogger.”
A discussion of logistics followed before the meeting finally broke up. Bridgett blew out a slow breath, releasing some of the tension that had been holding her body in check for the past hour. She was a professional, a partner in a law firm, for crying out loud. She could do this. Hank was saying something to Scott about introducing him to the team’s security chief, Donovan Carter, while Bridgett shoved her tablet into her red Marc Jacobs messenger bag and reached for her suit jacket. If she was lucky, she could get to her car without having to make any additional eye contact with the Antichrist.
“It’s good to see you, Bridgett. Let’s get the girls together for a glass of wine while you’re in town.” Carly Devlin, Hank’s assistant, gave her a brief wave from the doorway where she intercepted the team’s GM with another apparent pressing problem. Bridgett nodded back. “The girls” she spoke of would be Carly, who was not only Hank’s assistant but the wife of the Baltimore Blaze quarterback Shane Devlin; Julianne Connelly, wife of the team’s defensive captain, Will Connelly; and Shay Janik, Bridgett’s new sister-in-law. While Bridgett considered all the women friends, even the lure of a good glass of pinot grigio couldn’t entice her to share an evening with these ladies. Not when all of them would spend the entire time talking about babies.
The familiar lump in her throat that always accompanied the thought of babies and children was painful to gulp down, but Bridgett had become a master of enduring the pain. She’d had to be. Babies were not in her future. Her career was her life. The decision had been made for her years earlier and Bridgett refused to have any regrets about it.
Dan and Maureen were nearly out the door when the Antichrist deigned to speak to her.
“Miss Janik, a word.”
It wasn’t a request as much as it was a command. Jay McManus was used to his minions heeding his orders. Too bad she wasn’t one of those minions. Bridgett had every intention of ignoring his summons and following the rest of her staff out of the door when he hit her with a rusty weapon from his arsenal.
“Please, Bridgett.”
She wasn’t sure which stunned her more: his uttering the word please or her name rolling so easily off his tongue, as though it hadn’t been years since he’d spoken to her. Either way, her body froze before she could safely clear the room. Silently cursing her dumb luck for insisting on bringing her own rental car to the meeting, she watched as Dan and Maureen, oblivious to her discomfort, made their way to the elevator. A moment later, Jay closed the door, cutting off her view and her escape route.
Sighing, she dropped her jacket and bag into one of the conference room chairs. If she was going to serve as part of his legal team, it was inevitable that she’d have to carry on a conversation with the man at some point. It was probably best to get everything out in the open sooner rather than later. “That’s funny. I didn’t think you knew the word please.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Or maybe it’s just ‘I’m sorry’ that gets caught in your throat.”
He leaned against the door, mimicking her defensive pose as one corner of his mouth lifted slightly, giving her a glimpse of the dimple she’d once loved to trace with her finger an
d her tongue. She dragged in a rough breath as parts of her body went on alert thinking about not only that dimple but the ones on his very fine ass, too. Don’t go there. With the futile hope of calming the tremors deep in her belly, she practiced one of her favorite courtroom tricks of looking through the witness.
It didn’t work.
Even all these years later, Jay McManus was beautiful. Perhaps more so now that he’d matured. He was definitely sexier. Gone was the tall, loose-limbed, carefree boy with the lazy smile; the guy who always seemed to have her hand in his. The man in his place was now chiseled to perfection, his designer suit barely containing the athletic body that likely rivaled many of the players whose paychecks he signed. His smile was hidden behind a carefully crafted veneer of aloof arrogance. But his blue eyes were nearly her undoing. She remembered the fierce determination reflected in them when he’d been inside of her, when he’d been talking about being with her forever. And then again when he’d left her. That fierceness was in them now, but she refused to be cowed by this man. Not ever again.
“That’s exactly the reason we need to have this conversation,” he said, that silky smooth voice of his making her insides sit up and take notice. “I need to know if you’re professional enough to handle this situation.”
Her insides were definitely taking notice now, but not in the same way. The anger and hurt that he’d left with her more than a decade ago roared up her spine, practically jerking her shoulders back and her chin up. “That naïve starry-eyed girl you left at an Italian airport doesn’t exist anymore. I won’t have a problem handling this case. Or my interactions with you.” She didn’t need to worry about any lingering attraction for this man. His arrogance had seen to that. Bridgett was relieved to be over him. As long as she ignored the small part of her that was weeping right now.
• • •
Jay almost believed her. The key word being almost. After years apart, they had inadvertently been thrown together when he’d bought the team her brother played for. She’d been to games, including the Super Bowl, but on every occasion had avoided him like the plague. He’d watch her as she cheered Brody on, safe in the bosom of the large, boisterous Janik family, all the while maintaining her distance, keeping that poised, polished smile solidly on her face as if they’d never been acquainted, much less lovers.
Bridgett was wearing that cool look now. The one that screamed she was untouchable, but made him want to touch her. Thoroughly. To familiarize himself again with the soft planes of her body. She was still petite, her frame a little thinner—more brittle—than it had been that summer, when her curves had been filled out with good food and even better wine. Her blond hair no longer hung free down her back, yet his fingers itched to twine through it anyway. Jay couldn’t complain about how she wore it now, though. The sleek style only enhanced the classic beauty of her pert chin and gray eyes—eyes that looked like sterling silver when framed by her long, dark lashes. She’d dressed in her uniform of a hip-hugging pencil skirt and a silk blouse that hardly compared to the peekaboo tank tops and shorts she’d favored years ago, yet still the outfit made her look sexy as hell.
“Perhaps it’s you who has the problem,” she was saying, and Jay suddenly wished her lips were doing something a lot more fun than talking. “If that’s the situation, you shouldn’t have asked Stuart to put me on the case.”
“I didn’t.”
The truth stung her. He watched—not quite as satisfied as he ought to be—as she flinched slightly at his words. Her reaction was telling. She’d thought he had wanted to work with her. The knowledge spurred him on.
“It was Stuart’s suggestion.” He took a step toward her and she countered with a step back. He took another step and she was suddenly pressed up against the conference table. “I didn’t think you’d want me to tell your boss all the reasons that was the mother of bad ideas.” He closed the gap between them, his hips practically pinning her in place.
“Wow, chivalry and the word please. This is certainly a red-letter day.” She jerked her chin up. “Get to the point, Jay. I have to get back to the office.”
Jay had to admire her backbone. The sweet girl he once loved never would have stood up to him like this. She was the champion of the little guy and she wouldn’t have appreciated—or put up with—his bullying. But she’d changed. She’d become more like him. The thought both saddened him and aroused him at the same time. Glancing down, he had a bird’s-eye view down her silk blouse, and he saw he wasn’t the only one aroused.
Maybe it was this tactic that was the mother of bad ideas. But he had to find out. If she was in fact over him, he’d bury his own lust deep inside and let her take the helm defending him against these ridiculous charges. Stuart was right; it was a brilliant move that made the most sense. But if she reacted to him, he was counting on her turning tail and running. It was what she did, after all. He’d find another lawyer and beat the trumped-up charges, because losing was not what Jay McManus did.
Reaching up, he traced his thumb along the tender skin beneath her jaw. “I’m just wondering why you didn’t immediately recuse yourself, Bridgett.”
She shivered beneath his touch but her voice was steady. “Why bother? There’s nothing between us any longer. I can certainly defend my brother’s team against the baseless allegations.”
“It’s not your brother’s team. It’s my team. Your brother works for me.”
“How naïve I must have been not to notice the arrogant autocrat that lurked beneath your shiny surface.”
His thumb moved over her full bottom lip. “That’s because you were too busy putting your hands and mouth all over my shiny surface.”
Anger flashed in those gorgeous eyes of hers as a soft flush spread over her cheeks. “My hands—not to mention the rest of me—have learned self-control.”
“Have they?” His mouth drifted lower and he swore he could taste her.
“Don’t even think about kissing me,” she hissed as her fisted hands made contact with his chest.
“Babe, I’ve done nothing but think about kissing you ever since I saw you again,” he admitted before his brain could stop the words from escaping.
“Well, I haven’t.” She gave his chest a shove, but her pulse had ratcheted up beneath his thumb, and her hips arched toward his. Jay was having difficulty keeping his body in check and his head spun as he inhaled the familiar scent of her. He needed to rethink his strategy here, but his brain didn’t seem to be in control any longer. His lips replaced his thumb along her jaw and he finally—finally—tasted her. That and the sound of her sighing his name were his undoing. Jay had to know if she still had any power over him. Or if he could let her go again.
His lips found hers and for the first time in years, Jay’s brain shut down. All he could think about was sinking deeper into Bridgett and letting her warm, silky mouth wash over him. A soft moan rose from her chest just as her lips parted, and Jay wasted no time. Dragging one hand through her hair, he shifted her head to give himself greater access to her mouth, plundering deeply with his tongue, groaning when her own swept against it. His other hand wrapped around her sweet ass, pulling her in against the part of his body that was suddenly doing all the negotiating.
Even more surprising, she was kissing him back. Bridgett released her fingers from their fists and slid them up his chest and over his shoulders as her hips rolled against his restlessly. Jay had his answer. He needed to end this little experiment before it got out of hand. And he would. In a minute. After he savored her mouth a little longer. A soft keening sound escaped the back of her throat and something snapped inside Jay. He kissed her as if he still had the right to, delving into her mouth and taking what was no longer his.
He nudged her back against the conference table with every intention of taking her there. Fortunately, Bridgett was right about learning a little self-control over the years. With a sudden ferocity, she broke their k
iss. They both stood there a moment, avoiding each other’s eyes as they tried to tamp down their heavy breathing. This time he took a gentlemanly step back when she pushed at him. Without looking up she snatched her obnoxious red bag and her jacket off the chair and walked, albeit a little unsteadily, toward the conference room door.
“I’ll call Stuart and recuse myself,” she said, her back to him and her hand poised on the doorknob. “Just . . .” He heard her swallow harshly. “Just stay out of my life. I’m better without you.”
She didn’t wait for his acknowledgment or his agreement before she purposefully closed the door behind her. Good thing, because Jay’s plans had changed dramatically. No way was he going to stay out of her life now. Not after having her in his arms again, after tasting her once more. Jay made few mistakes, but when he did, he never made the same one twice. He’d let Bridgett slip out of his life once before. That wasn’t going to happen a second time. Only this time, he wouldn’t make the stupid mistake of letting her have his heart.
He punched a button on the intercom. “Linc, call Stuart Johnson and tell him if Bridgett Janik isn’t the lead attorney on our case, I’ll find another firm to represent us.”
It was a gamble, but he knew Stuart wanted the team’s business. Jay also knew he wanted Bridgett. Badly.
Three
“Can I say that I truly hate whoever is behind that stupid blog?” Shay Janik reached across the kitchen counter and poured a generous serving of pinot grigio into Bridgett’s wineglass. “I honestly don’t get what her motivation is.”
Coming up behind his wife, Brody Janik wrapped his long arms around her before bending his head down to nuzzle her neck. “Wasn’t it your theory that the blogger might not be a she at all, Shannon?” he asked.
Bridgett tried in vain to ignore her brother’s PDA. She was beginning to regret her decision to stop by his house, but Carly had already alerted Shay that Bridgett was back in Baltimore. Her sister-in-law had wasted no time texting and inviting her to dinner. Besides, Shay, a PhD in nutrition, was a genius in the kitchen. Brody suffered from reactive hypoglycemia, a condition that affected his blood sugar, but the meals Shay prepared for him were not only incredibly healthy, but delicious, as well. After a month in Italy, Bridgett figured having Shay prepare her meals might be the one upside to being back in Baltimore.
Sleeping With the Enemy Page 3
