Take the Bait

by Cindy Dees

  About five seconds later, her phone rang. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  The floodgates opened.

  He demanded, alarmed, “Talk to me, Dani.”

  “I watched a scary movie. And I had a nightmare, and it’s really stupid, and I’m stressed out at work, and not getting any sleep, and this is probably just stupid girl hormones—”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “No—”

  He’d already hung up. Crap. What had she done?

  He wasn’t kidding. Her doorbell rang in five minutes to the second. She didn’t want to think about the speed limits he’d destroyed to get here that fast. And how on earth had he found a parking space at this hour? She ran to the door in the sloppy T-shirt she’d slept in and threw open the door.

  Cam swept inside and drew her into his arms, hugging her tightly. And then it was all hands plunging into hair, wet mouths, clothing being shoved aside and murmured words of lust.

  Before long, he was holding her naked in his arms while he kissed her into a sexual stupor. “Bedroom?” he muttered.

  “Down the hall on the left,” she panted.

  Swiftly, he strode down the hall and planted a knee on her mattress. He laid her down, following her down and covering her with his hot, hard body. The sex was fast and urgent, two weeks of pent-up lust exploding between them like a ton of TNT.

  Panting hard, Cam rolled onto his side and held her close, wrapped in his arms and the safety of his body. “Demons chased away?” he murmured.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He pushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Tell me about the demons, baby. What was your nightmare?”

  “It’s dumb.”

  “It’ll make you feel better to tell me about it, no matter how dumb it is. Demons are destroyed when you reveal them, you know.” He kissed his way across her forehead and down her temple to her ear, where he commenced tickling her with his tongue.

  Giggling, she demanded, “Stop that!”

  “Not until you tell me what made you cry so I can beat up the monster for you and make it all better.”

  “That should be interesting. You were the nightmare.”

  He pushed up fast to an elbow to stare down at her. “What did I do to make you cry?”

  “You married another woman.”

  “Ah.” He subsided onto the pillows and tucked her against his side. “You’re worried that I’ll get tired of waiting for you?”

  “I guess so. But it was just a dream.”

  “Still. It made you cry.” He added reflectively, “Would it make you feel better if I promise not to date anyone else until the Koronov case is done and we’ve had all the hot monkey sex either of us can take?”

  “I can’t ask that of you.”

  “I promise, nonetheless. It’s a done deal.”

  She pushed up on his broad chest to stare down at him. “Cam—”

  “Kiss me, Dani. I can still take some more monkey business.”

  This time, their lovemaking was slow and easy. Deliberate. The kind of sex where they could savor every moment, every sensation. And in some ways, it was more intense than any of their sex so far. This time, it was emotional. How could she possibly have imagined Cam would leave her for another woman after they’d shared this intimacy? The silliness of her nightmare became readily evident as he kissed her perspiring brow afterward, murmuring lazy endearments to her.

  He surprised her, though, when he said, “You mentioned being stressed out at work. What’s going on?”

  She tensed beside him. She wasn’t ready to ask him to choose between her and his career. And if she pushed him to reveal the owner of the raspy voice at WMP, that would be exactly what she would be doing. If he turned against a law firm of that prestige and power, the private east-coast firms would close ranks against him, and he would never get to leave the DA’s office.

  She did ask, however, “Have you ever heard any rumblings of impropriety at WMP regarding how they treat their female associates?”

  “Is somebody harassing you?” he asked sharply.

  “No, no,” she answered hastily. “Nothing like that. I’m just curious why they have no senior female associates and no female partners.”

  He went still and thoughtful beneath her. Dammit. He was so fast on the uptake, she shouldn’t have given away so much to him about her secret investigation. She’d wanted to rattle a few bars at WMP, not get herself into an open war with her firm.

  Frantic to distract him, she pushed him onto his back and crawled up his glorious body, kissing a path of destruction as she went. Thankfully, the tactic seemed to work. Heck, after a few minutes, even she couldn’t remember what it was she’d been hoping to make him forget.

  Still, an undertone of desperation punctuated their lovemaking. They’d stolen this night, and they both knew that this first step down the slippery slope must, at all costs, not be followed by another one. How she was going to find the strength to stay away from him now, after this intimate, emotional connection had been forged between them, she had no idea.

  As he eventually climbed out of her bed with a last, lingering kiss of farewell, it was as if he’d ripped her heart out and taken it with him when he disappeared around the doorjamb. She’d never been so bereft in her entire life.

  And yet, she couldn’t find it in her heart to label tonight a mistake. Professionally, it most certainly was one. A huge one. But on a personal level, she could only find it in her heart to think of it as miraculous. No doubt about it, Cam Townsend was a man worth waiting for.

  If only he didn’t hold the key to saving her career. And if only his giving it up wouldn’t destroy his. How on God’s green earth was she supposed to choose between his career’s survival or hers?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DANI WAS NERVOUS as she walked into the courtroom. Not only was this her first real hearing in front of an actual judge, but Cam would be there. By mutual agreement, they hadn’t spoken for the past two weeks. Not since they’d finally gotten a court date for Alexei Koronov.

  It had been a living hell not hearing Cam’s voice every night, not knowing what he was doing with his days, wondering if he was missing her as badly as she was missing him. Their only correspondence had been professional emails as the case required, and she was a wreck.

  If she’d been sleeping badly before their stolen night together, she was sleeping horrifically, now. She woke up in the middle of every night tangled wildly in her blankets, halfway orgasmic, reaching for him with empty arms, so sexually frustrated she could scream.

  She’d thrown herself with gusto into researching Whitney, Marcos & Pinter’s history with women associates, and it had been illuminating to say the least. Half a dozen women lawyers had sent her signed affidavits testifying to all kids of behavior that skirted right at the edge of outright sexual discrimination. Individually, none of the stories were bad enough to nail WMP. But taken as a group, a damning picture was forming of the company’s practices.

  She’d decided to wait until after Alex’s trial was over to ask Cam outright who the raspy-voiced WMP lawyer had been that night at the cocktail party. Hopefully, she would get a chance to do it in bed with him at a moment when he was weak and would tell her anything she wanted to know.

  If, of course, she didn’t die of frustration between now and then. Death by horniness. Now, there was a lousy way to go.

  The courtroom doors opened behind her and her breath caught. Cam looked magnificent in a crisply tailored dark suit and starched white shirt. She recognized the tie as the same one he’d been wearing the night they had wild sex on his couch. She would never forget pulling it from around his neck while he made her scream in pleasure.

  “Good morning, Counselor,” he said politely to her, his eyes so smoking hot with memory of the sex between them she could hardly breathe.

  “Good morning.” Her eyes sparkled wickedly. “Nice tie.”

  “It’s a personal favorite of mine. I like to think
of it as my good luck tie.”

  Her smile widened. She was prevented from further flirting with him, however, when a side door opened and Alexei Koronov was ushered into the room by a bailiff. He looked dashing in a suit no typical petty criminal could possibly afford.

  “Hi, Alex. Ready for today?” she murmured as he moved into position beside her, and Cam stepped across the aisle.

  “All rise,” a bailiff intoned.

  Alex threw her a sidelong glance that sent alarm bells clanging like the sirens at a four-alarm fire in her head. Oh, crap. He had something planned to mess with this hearing. The judge emerged form his office and took his place at the bench.

  “Don’t do it,” she warned Alex under her breath.

  One corner of his mouth turned up in a sardonic smirk. “Sorry, Miss Wellford. I have no choice. None at all.”

  He’d steadfastly refused to tell her anything about why he was so insistent on going to jail. WMP’s private investigator had uncovered that Alex’s father, a convicted spy recently repatriated to Russia in a diplomatic prisoner swap, had been trying to contact his American son before Alex went for his little joyride. But the P.I. had also reported that Alex had refused all overtures from his sire and seemed to want nothing to do with Peter Koronov.

  Her client didn’t seem self-destructive or suicidal. But still, she was deeply alarmed as the preliminaries droned on and he grew more and more tense beside her.

  But then a bailiff came over to remove Alex’s handcuffs so he could approach the bench. The judge apparently wanted to have a conversation with this unusual prisoner for himself.

  Admittedly, the bailiff gave the metal cuffs a rather vicious twist that was uncalled for as he took them off Alex. But her client moved so fast she barely saw his flat hand whip out and slam into the bailiff’s throat. The guy went down like a rock, gagging and gasping.

  Two more bailiffs leaped forward, and Alex dropped them with brutal efficiency that left Dani gaping in total shock. Who the hell was this guy? He moved like the freaking Terminator.

  Cam leaped protectively in front of her, and her heart expanded in gratitude at the same time panic finally erupted in her brain. The judge surged to his feet as the scenario froze.

  Three bailiffs writhed on the floor, moaning, their stun guns in the far corners of the room where Alex had taken them and tossed them. Dani stared down at her client in shock as he calmly sat down in his chair and announced, “The one I struck in the throat will need hospitalization and possible surgery to repair his larynx. The big one over there has possible cracked ribs but should be fine. And that one,” he pointed at the nearest bailiff, “is just a pussy. I didn’t do anything serious to him.”

  And with that pronouncement, Alex leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his stomach.

  Frowning, Cam asked Alex dryly, “Would you object to my placing handcuffs on you again?”

  “Not at all, Counselor.” Alex even held his wrists out and waited patiently for Cam to pick up the discarded cuffs and cautiously snap them on.

  Although, after that ninja display, Dani suspected wearing handcuffs wouldn’t make her client much less lethal.

  Dani sank into the chair beside Alex. “Who are you?” she muttered in disbelief.

  “I’m nobody, Miss Wellford. Just a guy trying to disappear into the system for a good long time.”

  “But why?”

  “You’re a decent attorney. And I like you. That’s why I’m not going to answer your question. The less you know about me, the safer you’ll be.”

  “Are you some sort of spy like your father?”

  “Not on the list of approved questions,” Koronov bit out.

  She was prevented from asking him anything more by half a dozen bailiffs charging into the courtroom braced for combat. They seemed disappointed when her client looked up at them docilely from his handcuffed position in a chair. The injured bailiffs were helped out of the room and new bailiffs, Tasers drawn and pointed at Alex, took their places.

  The judge snapped at her, “Do you have control of your client, now?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. There will be no more outbursts from Mr. Koronov.” She tossed a glare over at her client to emphasize the point.

  He smirked at her for just an instant, but then his expression went deadpan again. The man’s self-discipline was almost frightening. Frankly, it might be best for everyone if this dangerous man were behind bars until he worked out whatever devil was riding him.

  The judge, riffling through Alex’s case file on the bench, said sternly, “There will be no more shenanigans in my court, Mr. Koronov, or else I will charge you with assault and contempt. Is that understood?”

  “That’s Doctor Koronov to you,” Alex bit out.

  “Alex,” she hissed, “play nice.”

  “And that’s Your Honor, to you,” the judge snapped back.

  Was it legal for her to kick her client under the table? What the hell. She gave the side of Alex’s calf a whack with her foot.

  “Do you understand, Doctor Koronov, that the district attorney has been extremely lenient in not pressing charges against you in the matter of the accidental death of your fellow inmate?”

  A shrug from Alex. Then, “I’ll do it again if another piece of slime like that jumps me.”

  The judge went still. Pulled his reading glasses down with one hand to stare over them, first at her client, and then at her. She ground the heel of her shoe into Alex’s instep frantically as Koronov added casually, “Of course, the district attorney was lenient with me. After all, he’s screwing my lawyer.”

  “Alex!” she cried, aghast.

  The judge pointed at her and Cam. “My chambers. Both of you.”

  A steady stream of cursing flowed through her brain. She’d known in her gut that Alex would pull something to hose himself. She just hadn’t expected him to throw her under the bus, too.

  She didn’t know about Cam, but she felt like a kid summoned to the principal’s office for committing some terrible crime. Rising to her feet, she glared down at Alex. “You sit here. Do nothing. Say nothing. Got it?”

  He nodded back at her unrepentantly. “Got it.” But as Cam strode past, Alex muttered sotto voce, “Hope she was worth it, slugger.”

  Cam shot a murderous glare at her client as he gestured for her to go first to the judge’s office.

  The judge pointed at seats in front of his desk and she and Cam sank into them. He leaned back in his big leather chair, hands folded across his girth. “Care to tell me what’s going on with your client, Miss Wellford?”

  “Mr. Koronov has seemed determined to go to jail from the beginning. Any time anyone shows him the slightest hint of leniency, he strikes out provocatively, much as he did just now. He flatly refuses to tell me what he’s acting out, although I’m certain he knows why he’s doing it. This is a calculated strategy on his part.”

  “Do you concur with that assessment, Mr. Townsend?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Tell me, Mr. Townsend. If you’re so sure he killed an inmate and badly wounded three more intentionally, why aren’t you pressing charges?”

  She flinched as the judge’s voice flailed at Cam. The judge sounded half-inclined to believe Alex’s outrageous accusation. Good instincts the man had, darn it.

  She caught the miniscule lurch of protectiveness in her direction that Cam suppressed before he answered the judge. “Investigation into the incident revealed that the four inmates attacked Mr. Koronov first. They were overheard making statements that they were going to kill him. I also have affidavits from multiple guards indicating that they believe Mr. Koronov easily could have killed all four of his attackers and consciously refrained from doing so.”

  “So I’m supposed to show leniency because he killed only one man?” the judge bit out.

  “It has been deemed self-defense by my office. And given the extenuating circumstances of Mr. Koronov’s past, the district attorney has chosen not to pursue pr
essing charges.”

  “What have you got to say for your client, Miss Wellford?”

  “I have no excuse for his behavior, Your Honor.”

  The judge opened Alex’s case file. “This guy went to college at thirteen. He’s a trauma surgeon. Productive member of society. No priors. No substance abuse. No history of violent or erratic behavior. Do your job, Counselor. Give me a reason not to toss him in jail and throw away the key.”

  She opened her mouth to answer but was at a loss as to what to say. Alex’s instructions to mess up the case rang in her head. Desire to save Alex from himself warred with her obligation to serve her client.

  Cam saved her, though, by piping up with, “Your Honor, if you don’t give this guy what he wants and send him to jail, I’m convinced he’ll continue to lash out and even harm others.”

  The judge looked over at her. “Comments, Counselor?”

  She sighed. “It’s my job to defend him to the best of my ability. The question, then, is whether or not his best defense is actually to let him go to jail. I searched the records and could find no precedent for a client trying to go to jail in this court.”

  The judge exhaled long and slow. “Right now, he’s only charged with DUI, evading and resisting arrest, reckless driving and a few other minor charges. I could justify ten years, with parole in four, for that. How long does he want to go to jail for?”

  “I truly do not know, Your Honor.”

  “Go ask him.”

  She blinked, startled. He was serious. She went back out into the courtroom, where the bailiffs were still eyeing Alex with deep wariness. She leaned down to whisper to him, “How long do you want to go to jail for?”

  “Ten to twelve years is the maximum for the charges I currently face, correct?”

  “Yes. With possibility of parole in four.”

  “That’s acceptable.”

  This was crazy. She shook her head and retreated to the judge’s chambers. Numb, she relayed Alex’s answer.

  “This is damned irregular,” the judge harrumphed.