by Lisa Rayne
If he’d been off base about Juliet, what else had his overactive libido blinded him to?
He wanted to believe the prior rumors about Jordis were false, but maybe she’d been playing with him this whole time.
Logically, he recognized she hadn’t come on to him. He’d been the one to make the first move, and he hadn’t backed off even when she’d asked him to. But, maybe she was better at playing hard-to-get than her predecessors. She was certainly more intelligent than any of them.
He didn’t want to consider the possibility another schemer had pulled him in, but old hangups died hard. Women invariably disappointed him. He couldn’t keep the doubts completely silent. He needed to talk to Jordis.
The time had come to end their stalemate.
* * *
Michael found Jordis in the part of the firm gym that contained the basketball half court. She had a rack of basketballs beside her from which she repeatedly snatched balls then took outside shots. Even sporting a casual ponytail, she looked beautiful. She’d dressed in athletic pants and a lycra Under Armour long-sleeved t-shirt. The form-fitting shirt accentuated her defined arm muscles and hugged all her upper curves.
Her body moved with an athletic grace he admired and which turned him on.
So many levels existed to this attraction he nursed. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted her.
He stood out of her line of sight and watched in awe as she hit six shots in rapid-fire succession. Something, even in his college days, he would have been hard pressed to duplicate.
The seventh shot hit the back of the rim and bounced off. Jordis put her hands on her hips and dropped her head forward. Her chest rose and fell with a huge breath. A few seconds later, her voice carried to him. “What do you want?”
She’d sensed his presence.
He wondered if she would have made that last shot if she hadn’t. The betting man in him said she would have.
Jacketless and tieless, he strolled onto the court, the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone. “I just talked to my investigator. His preliminary research into the issue you raised about the expert witnesses shows there might be something there. He’ll start his official investigation tomorrow.”
“Great.” She picked up a ball from the floor. “You didn’t have to track me down to tell me that.” Her voice was stiff.
“No, I didn’t.” His hands slid into the pockets of his slacks. “Jordis, we have to talk. We need to address this tension between us.”
She propped the basketball against her hip and sighed heavily. “Okay, Michael. Talk.”
She still had her defenses up.
“What are you afraid of?” That wasn’t what he’d intended to ask, but once it was out, he sensed he’d asked exactly the right question.
“I’m not afraid of anything.” She dribbled the ball she had in her hand and looked up at the goal. She took a shot. It hit its target.
Michael walked beneath the goal and retrieved the ball. He drilled her a chest pass, which she caught without thought. He maintained his position. “Come on, Jordis. It’s time we’re straight with each other. Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
She held the basketball in front of her balanced between her two hands. She gazed at it while she turned it a few times. When she looked up at him, the shield had lowered from her eyes. “Setting off a chain reaction of events that will cost me my career. This is my third firm, Michael. If I have to leave RHM before I make partner, my marketability will suffer and my reputation as a top-rate lawyer will be in serious question.”
Michael weighed his words, understanding the significance of her revelation. “It doesn’t have to come to that.”
“It shouldn’t have to come to that. That doesn’t mean it won’t.”
He started towards her. “Jordis, your career here is in no way contingent upon what happens—or doesn’t happen—between us.” He stopped in front of her. “If that’s what this is about, know I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
He gave an amused grunt, but replied seriously. “If that’s what it takes.”
“What if I’m the one to break it off?”
He all but rolled his eyes, dismissing her comment as if insulted. “I’m a big boy. I think I can handle it.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not just about you, Michael. If we cross this line, the moment it gets out we’re having an affair—and it would get out—my credibility at RHM will be destroyed. It’s hard enough making it in this environment without having to live in the shadow of vicious gossip and slanderous epithets. I should know. I’ve been there before.”
Michael stiffened. Was she admitting she’d had an affair with that partner? “What do you mean?”
Jordis studied him. He wondered if his apprehension showed on his face. She looked to be considering her words carefully.
Her eyes closed.
Michael waited patiently for her to open them.
When she did, she spoke softly. “At my prior firm, I was assigned a case with a senior partner named Lowell Bruner. After we’d worked together awhile, he began to get a little touchy-feely.” Jordis clamped tightly on the ball she held between her palms.
Michael reached out and removed the ball from her grasp.
She dropped her hands. “I rebuffed his advances. Politely. At first. I was naïve enough to believe a man of his position and reputation would accept my disinterest and move on. I was wrong.” Her hands tightened into fists. “One night, we were working on deadline in his office and it got late. I didn’t realize he’d told the staff not to disturb us. As a result, neither his secretary nor mine came by to indicate they were leaving for the day, but he knew exactly when everyone had left.”
She paused.
Sensing her hesitancy, Michael encouraged, “Go on.”
“He decided to force the issue. One minute, we were discussing the case. The next, he was pinning me down on his office sofa assuring me it would be to my advantage to give in and my disadvantage not to. I tried to reason with him. I failed. When he started trying to unfasten my clothes, I fought him. I had just managed to knock him to the floor when another partner walked in. There I was with my blouse open, my skirt pushed up against my hips and Lowell on his knees in front of me with his pants unzipped. You can imagine the picture it made.”
“Jordis, I assure you that other partner knew exactly what was going on.”
“That’s what I thought, but that’s not the position the other partner took.” She sighed, dropped her head and ran both hands over the gel-shelacked hair leading into her ponytail. After only a few seconds her head sprang up. “Wait. You believe me?”
This time, Michael spun the basketball. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Just like that? No questions?”
“What am I missing?” He stared at her through her silence then clarity dawned. “Keith didn’t believe you.”
“No. He didn’t. He asked me a million questions about the encounter, and then he still doubted my word. He was in the middle of a deal with the partner who walked in on Lowell and me. Closing the deal turned out to be more important to him than putting his trust in me.”
She looked into Michael’s eyes. “How can you be so sure?”
“Cara, I’ve seen your fighting spirit on the basketball court over a few points. If you tell me you had to fight that man off, I have no doubt you both looked like you’d been in a fight.”
“For all the good it did me. That didn’t stop the funny looks or the talk around the firm or the constant sexual innuendos from male colleagues who openly propositioned me. I was considered easy and fair game.”
“That wouldn’t happen here.” Knowing the partners at her prior firm had allowed that to go on angered him. They’d intentional shirked their leadership responsibilities and left her vulnerable to hazing because they’d wanted her gone.
“Of course, it would. You can’t control what people think.”
No way he’d allow bullying like that to happen at his firm. “No, but I can make damn sure they keep those thoughts to themselves if they want to continue working at RHM.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t be serious?”
“Of course, I am.”
“Riiight.” She stepped away from him. “I keep forgetting your name is in giant letters on the side of the building. It must be good to be the king.”
The classic Mel Brooks movie line sent his lips into a smirk and his thoughts into sinfully inappropriate territory.
“Okay, conjuring up that particular image probably was not wise on my part.” She couldn’t stop her own grin.
“Probably not.” He was relieved she’d volunteered what had happened at her prior firm. Now was probably a good time to tell her he’d found out about the scandal on his own, but she hadn’t let her guard down like this around him in over a week.
Being this close to her made him want to touch her, to pull her into his arms, to press his mouth to hers until her lips were swollen from his kisses. If she found out he’d had her investigated, he’d never get the chance.
His decision made, he captured her hand and tugged her until she settled against him. He pressed the basketball into his side while his free hand found her ponytail and stroked. When she finally relaxed him, he dropped his head and pressed his lips to hers.
Her mouth stayed closed initially, but it didn’t take long for her to open to him. He deepened the kiss.
They got lost in each other, and she moaned.
He grew aroused.
As soon as she felt him rise, she pushed away. “Dammit, Michael. After what I just told you, how can you possibly still think this is a good idea? Don’t you understand the word no?”
“You’ve never actually told me ‘no’, Jordis. Why is that it?”
She started to protest, but he cut her off. “You’ve told me you can’t. You’ve asked me to back off. You’ve consistently reminded me I’m your supervising attorney. But, you’ve never once told me no or to stop. Not even now.”
Her eyes lost focus. He could see her mentally running through each of their encounters, trying to determine if what he’d said was true. Her brow creased, and her gaze focused back on him. Her mouth opened then closed immediately.
He had her. “I understand you’re conflicted. And now, I have a better understanding as to why. But I’m not Lowell Bruner.”
She opened her mouth to interrupt him.
He held up a hand. “Wait. Let me finish.”
She closed her eyes again. Her shoulders rose and fell, and she dropped her head.
The bent index finger of his left hand slid under her chin and tilted her head back up. He waited for her to open her eyes before he continued. “I don’t appreciate you lumping me together with some lecherous lawyer who uses his partnership position to extort sexual favors from associates. I would hope you think more of me than that.”
“Michael, I—”
He crowded further into her personal space. “I can’t deny I think about stripping you naked just about every minute of every day, but here’s the thing. I think I’ve gotten to know you pretty well. So, there’s one thing I’m certain of. If you didn’t want me as much as I want you, you’d have absolutely no problem telling me no.”
Her eyes flickered. The tapestry of hazel shrunk as her pupils dilated. He snaked a hand around her neck and planted a soft kiss on her lips. When he pulled back, the tight pressure around his heart had lessened.
The clipped edge to his voice dissipated into a low rumble. “I’m also not Keith Wilson. I’ll always be your champion. Trust me to take care of you.”
He released her and moved to leave. After a few steps, he realized he still held the basketball against his side. He turned. “This isn’t over between us, Jordis.”
He dribbled once and put up a jump shot. The ball flew through the air in a perfect arc and drilled through the hoop with such power the net didn’t move.
One side of his mouth quirked. “Not by a long shot.”
Chapter 15
Late the next evening, Jordis entered Michael’s office cranking her neck from side to side. She hadn’t meant to work so late, but something didn’t add up in the reports from the opposing side’s current expert witness. She’d been determined to make sense of it before she went home. She’d compiled a few notes she wanted Michael to read when he first arrived in the morning so she dropped the papers on his chair where he couldn’t miss them.
As she reached for the pull chain of his still-lit desk lamp, her eyes fell on a masculine body sprawled on the office couch. Unlit recessed lights left shadows that danced across the lithe torso. Jordis stepped over to the brown leather sofa, her bare feet soundless on the plush Berber carpet. She’d abandoned her shoes in her office and hadn’t bothered to put them back on for the short walk to Michael’s office. She hadn’t expected anyone else to be here.
She perused the coffee table adjacent to the couch and took in miscellaneous papers, various ballpoint pens, and several different color highlighters scattered about. She picked up a page from the table and glanced over the sheet. Notes in Michael’s fluid, masculine cursive filled the margins, annotating the possible source of certain facts.
She studied Michael. He’d kicked off his dress shoes made of soft Italian leather and rested in black sock-covered feet. One foot was up on the cushions, his knee bent against the back of the couch, and the other rested on the ground. His head lay propped against the corner of the couch. One arm draped over his chest; the other was caught between his body and the back of the sofa. She allowed her eyes to travel the length of him, enjoying an unobserved opportunity to appreciate his physique.
Goodness, he was sexy. Even in his sleep, he radiated a sex appeal that made her long to climb onto the couch and stretch out on top of him. She’d always had a thing for tall, athletic men. Michael had that in spades, plus a confidence and intelligence that made him almost irresistible. But, resist him she must. Nothing was more important to her right now than making partner. She couldn’t let anything distract her—not competitive colleagues, not worries about keeping a masked interlude secret, and certainly not an affair with a senior partner.
She hadn’t spoken to Michael all day. She’d tried to hold onto her fury over everything that had happened between them. Avoiding a liaison with him would be so much easier if they were at odds with each other. The chemistry between them in itself made it hard to resist the lure of a sexual tryst.
Over the weeks they’d worked together, her professional admiration for the man had grown and her personal interest had followed. She’d like to think she’d simply fallen for his charm, his innate charisma. She could dismiss that as a shallow offshoot of their mutual physical attraction. The emotional draw he now held for her, however, couldn’t be dismissed as something trivial.
The playful side of him she’d glimpsed while he’d tried to cajole her out of her funk with him had made her smile—behind his back. She understood his end game, but she hadn’t been able to completely resist the appeal of his overtures. After thinking through what he’d said during his apology, she been unable to hold on to her anger. Without the shield of animosity, her heart couldn’t stave off the softer emotions.
Michael admitted he’d been jealous. Try as she might to ignore that, a part of her felt flattered.
While Michael’s assumption about her involvement with Eric had been insulting, from Michael’s position at her office door, it had probably looked like she and Eric had been kissing or were about to kiss. In hindsight, she figured that’s exactly what Eric had wanted. What better way to eliminate competition from the boss’s presumed paramour than to make the boss think she was two-timing him? In so doing, he would destroy the boss’s motivation to give her preferential treatment.
She also couldn’t ignore her own behavior. She’d let the baggage from her prior firm affect her thinking. She’d accused Michael of using his position to p
ressure an associate into having sex with him. As he’d pointed out yesterday, her accusation hadn’t been a very favorable comment on her opinion of his character. She’d painted him with the same brush as the lowlife that had harassed her. He hadn’t deserved that.
She looked down at him. If she reached out, she could touch his hair. Reason told her she shouldn’t, but her fingers itched to touch him. She leaned over the couch, checking to make sure he was still asleep. His chest rose and fell evenly. His closed eyes and relaxed posture evidenced deep slumber.
She lifted her hand, inched it towards his head then hesitated. Could she touch him softly enough not to wake him?
Her heart pounded.
Walk away, Jordis. Walk away.
Despite the warning voice in her head, she inched her fingers the rest of the way. They flitted lightly over the hair at the top of his head. The thick silkiness called to her. Her touch grew bolder. She eased her fingers into the slightly longer hair at his forehead and stroked them to the tips of strands.
Her breathing changed.
The tickle of his hair beneath her fingers set her blood pulsing and made her want to touch more than his hair. Good Lord. She pulled in a long silent breath. How could touching him so casually have such an intense effect on her?
She struggled for control, thinking she needed to get out of here before he woke up. She glanced at his face and froze. His eyes were open, his gaze locked on her face. Slowly, as if inching away from a rabid wolf, she removed her hand.
In an unhurried move, he captured her wrist. “Don’t stop now.” His husky voice slithered over her and further stirred her roiling hormones.
“Sorry.” Her voice was a whisper. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but it’s late. Don’t you want to go home?” She tried to play off her intimate ministrations with feigned concern for his wellbeing.
“I think things are a lot more interesting where I am.” His grip tightened on her wrist as she sought to withdraw it from his hand. “Where are you going?”
“Like I said, it’s late. I need to go.”
