Sensuous Burgundy

by Barbara Delinsky

  two

  MAXWELL KRAIG HAD BEEN RIGHT. HE WAS to see her soon, much sooner than Laura had anticipated and in a setting which was to greatly tax her willpower.

  The fundraiser for Franklin Potter had been on the schedule for months. Hundreds of supporters from his own Hampshire County, as well as friends and associates from farther reaches of the state, had each paid a hefty sum for the privilege of sharing an evening with the renowned district attorney, all proceeds earmarked for the chief prosecutor’s anticipated reelection bid the following year.

  Laura had taken extra care in dressing for the sake of her father, who had flown in from Chicago for the fundraiser and, more importantly, to spend the weekend with his youngest child, and only daughter.

  Now as they entered the crowded hall, the pride on her father’s face justified her painstaking preparations. Her pink silk dress was of cocktail length and belted, its gently flowing skirt mirroring the soft fullness of its long sleeves, a plunging neckline the only concession to the woman-as-temptress look that Laura dared to make. She wore delicate silver sandals, high-heeled as always, her slim legs moving gracefully as she walked. Her black hair hung to her shoulders, its side strands drawn up and back, secured with a tiny silk rose on one side, matching her dress, the vividness of its color and the darkness of her hair a perfect foil for the alabaster sheen of her skin. The only jewelry she wore were the exquisite pearl studs at her ears, though the burgundy shine on her fingertips glistened as richly as a handful of rubies.

  “Life as a lawyer must be agreeing with you, sweetheart,” her father quipped, squeezing her affectionately about the waist. “You look marvelous!” Hand in hand, they proceeded to the bar.

  “You’re looking pretty dapper, yourself,” Laura whispered fondly. Her father had reached his late fifties with a headful of dark hair, graying only slightly now at the temples to give him an even more distinguished look than his proud carriage and impeccable costume conveyed. Although Laura had taken her slimness and her skin coloring from her mother, in all other respects she was her father’s daughter. The mane of thick, straight hair, the blueness of the eyes, the independence of spirit—Laura and Howard Grandine were of the same mold.

  Typical of the political function, handshaking and backslapping were the rule as the pair wandered casually through the crowd. Though Howard Grandine’s practice was located primarily in the Midwest, his ring of friends spanned the country.

  Laura always enjoyed being with him socially, as she had done so often after her mother died, filling in as his escort at dinners and parties, business functions and fundraisers. Her father handled himself well, and she had learned much from him. Now her training justified itself as she graciously acknowledged introduction after introduction, expertly making many herself as familiar faces passed or stopped. It was the same “Howard, how are you?” and the “Good to see you, Mr. Grandine,” or the “Laura, we hear good things about you,” to which she had grown accustomed.

  “Sandy!” she called, catching sight of her favorite trooper several bodies away. “Sandy!”

  It took a moment for him to locate the source of the voice, but Sandy was soon at her side. “You look gorgeous, Laura!” He placed a brotherly peck on her cheek before catching sight of her partner. “Mr. Grandine,” he introduced himself, “I’m Sandy Chatfield. How are you, sir?”

  “Not bad at all, thank you,” the other responded, with a vigorous handshake and a warm smile. “So this”—he directed his question to Laura out of the corner of his mouth—“is the fellow who so ably assists my little girl?” Three years before, Laura might have bristled at her father’s reference. Now, however, her own self-esteem was such that she merely grinned indulgently and let her father flex his muscle.

  “Yes, sir,” Sandy replied enthusiastically, “and I might add that I can’t remember having had a more pleasant assignment in years.” Laura had to laugh at the last; Sandy was only in his mid-thirties, yet he often spoke like a long-time veteran.

  “Aw, Sandy,” she teased, “you must say that to all the girls you work with.” The two exchanged meaningful glances, then laughed at the joke; Laura was the only female any trooper had been assigned to in years, and they both knew it.

  “Am I interrupting anything confidential?” That velvet tone which Laura recognized immediately broke through the laughter, sobering Sandy instantly, Laura soon after. Neither the former, with his self-proclaimed hawk-eyes, nor the latter, with the sixth sense that had been in operation that other afternoon, had been aware of his attendance at the fundraiser, yet here he stood, all six foot three of him, looking more handsome than ever in his dark suit, cream-colored shirt, and muted paisley print tie. At his elbow was an elegant woman, slim and auburn-haired, sophistication swirling about her chiffon-gowned figure.

  To Laura’s even greater surprise, it was her father who came to her own tongue-tied rescue. “Max! How are you?” he exclaimed, reaching across to capture the hand that the other had already extended.

  “Just fine, Howard! What are you doing all the way out here?” There was surprise in Max’s greeting, the slightest slant of confusion on his brow.

  Howard Grandine’s eyes twinkled mischievously in anticipation of some fun. “Same thing you are, no doubt!” he answered noncomittally. Gradually recovering from the appearance of Maxwell Kraig, Laura had begun to sense her father’s amusement…and to surmise its cause. Silently, she stood and watched, waiting to see exactly how perceptive Max could be.

  “I’ve known Frank for a good many years,” Max explained, “and, as it is, I have other business at this end of the state.” His gaze suddenly shifted to Laura. A suggestion of a frown creased his brow as he looked back at Howard, then settled his brown eyes on Laura once more. In that instant she knew the ruse was up. Proof followed. “If I’d known that Laura was your daughter, Howard, I might have refused to take the case. The Grandine mind is legendary in legal circles.”

  “You would never have turned down the case,” Laura contradicted him lightly, “for a reason like that.” Then she turned hastily to her father. “I didn’t realize that you and Max were acquainted.” She tempered the accusation of her words with a mother-scolding-child tone of voice.

  It was Max who explained, a relaxed smile playing over his features as his eyes played over hers. “Howard and I have worked together. He has given invaluable counsel to my clients on any number of instances. We refer each other cases regularly.”

  A perceptible squeeze to his arm by his noticeably impatient date brought Max’s attention away from Laura. “But, excuse me,” he apologized quickly, “may I introduce Marilyn Hough.” He made the introductions all around, he and Sandy exchanging stilted nods.

  “Maxwell”—the woman’s voice sounded clearly seductive and totally out of place—“Alex is waiting. We were to meet him five minutes ago.” Checking his watch, Max nodded, though a suggestion of annoyance hovered at the back of his eyes.

  “Howard, you’ll have to excuse us. Will you be staying for dinner?”

  Howard Grandine laughed heartily. “At the price we paid for these tickets, you bet I’ll be staying for dinner. Besides, it may take me several hours to locate Frank in this crowd…and he is the major reason I’m here!”

  Laura was caught off-guard when Max nonchalantly suggested they meet at the buffet table in an hour. Howard accepted the invitation before she could draw a breath in protest. Dinner was the last thing she wanted to have in the presence of this man. He was dangerous enough to work with, but, after hours, she sensed he could devastate her!

  “Why did you commit us to having dinner with him?” she whispered as soon as Max and his date had moved on. Sandy shared her sentiment, a scowl having settled on his previously gentle features.

  “I enjoy the man, sweetheart. Besides, now that I find he’s here, there is a matter I’d like to discuss with him. You may well find it interesting.” There was a hint of censure in his tone, which quickly softened to curiosity. “Does the
prospect of being with him distress you, Laura?”

  A pinkness akin to that of her dress crept up from her neck. Annoyed with herself for the sensitivity, Laura willed the color into abeyance as she feigned an air of indifference. “It doesn’t distress me, exactly, but we will be on opposite sides of the courtroom when the Stallway case comes to trial. I’m not sure it’s wise to…be with him.”

  “To the contrary,” her father corrected gently, “it is possible that during our discussion tonight, you may get a preview of the lawyer at work in the man’s mind.” Laura saw the truth of his reasoning.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she admitted begrudgingly. “Just keep him away from me!” As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. It was a suspicious expression that father showered on daughter this time around.

  “I don’t think you’ll have much to worry about,” he began cautiously. “He has a date who seemed to have little patience for the attention he gave you just now.” Laura glanced away in a moment of petulance. If anything, her father’s comment should have eased her worries. She certainly would be safer from Max’s magnetism if his date were present. Yet, that very presence disturbed her.

  Standing unobtrusively by, Sandy now paralleled her own thoughts. “She was a beauty, that dame,” he whistled under his breath, his words taking on the more crude intonation which he could adopt or discard at will.

  Impulsively, Laura whirled about. “She was a beauty, all right—if you like them with their nose in the air and their brain in their pinkie…” Crossly, she looked off into the crowd, missing the questioning gaze that passed between Sandy and her father.

  “Come on, sweetheart.” It was her father who came to her aid. “I think I see Thad Barstow. He’d love to see you after all these years.” Guiding her gently, Howard Grandine left the police officer to his own musings, as father and daughter moved away. By the time they reached their destination, Laura had regained her good humor sufficiently to play the poised and charming daughter of old.

  The poise remained intact during the next hour, as once again she immersed herself in the enjoyment of seeing old friends and meeting new ones. With a legal career of her own, she found herself particularly at ease and, indeed, in demand. Sadly, she mused, people seemed to value most what was reported in the newspapers. Even some of the most trivial cases she’d prosecuted had been given coverage by the local press; now people begged to hear little tidbits about one case or the other. Well used to parrying requests without compromising her own position, Laura was in her element.

  The buffet table had been newly replenished by the time they reached it. Cautiously glancing around, Laura saw no sign of Max Kraig.

  “Well, it looks like we’ve been stood up.” She breathed exultantly. “Let’s get some food. I’ve had enough to drink on an empty stomach to keep me on the ceiling for a week.”

  “That’s an interesting prospect.” Even before she turned around, the quivering of her insides announced the arrival of her nemesis.

  “Max!” Her father welcomed him. “We were beginning to wonder whether you’d make it back after all.”

  Max’s dark eyes grew even more so as they focussed on Laura. “For an opportunity to spend time with such a delightful family, I’d risk life and limb.”

  Laura was faintly aware of a hand at the back of her waist, warm and supportive. It took several moments for her to realize that it did not belong to her father. “Won’t Marilyn be joining us?” she inquired politely, with a calmness deceptive of the inner turmoil the man’s appearance had instantly generated.

  “She wanted to spend some time with a friend. I didn’t think you would miss her.” There was a devilish glint in his eye that took the implication a step further than his words had.

  Laura parried the suggestion artfully, leaning slightly nearer and injecting an intimate, though mocking, note in her voice. “But you may miss her. There’s not much other action of that type around.”

  Howard made his presence felt with a good-natured grunt. “I may be the one who misses her, if you two don’t come get some dinner.”

  Conversation was held at a minimum as they passed down the length of the buffet, helping themselves to lobster and crabmeat salads, ham slices, sweet-and-sour salmon, and other dishes. Much to Laura’s consternation, her father led them to a small table in a relatively secluded corner. Once seated, Laura scanned the buffet table for a sign of Sandy.

  Max read her mind. “If it’s that bodyguard you’re looking for, I assured him that your father would protect you.”

  Laura’s head twirled about, a glower at the ready, until she caught the warm, even enchanting touch of humor on Max’s face. Unable to help herself, her resistance melted instantly. And, yes, her father was here. He would be a perfect buffer, should the need arise.

  From the start Laura’s fears were unfounded. Howard and Max did indeed have a legal matter to discuss. As her father had promised, Laura was fascinated, as much by the subject as by the quickness of Max’s mind and his ability to sift out the essence of a problem and hone in on it. With begrudging admiration, she noted the wealth of reference cases he had filed cerebrally, to be called forth at will. Her father had been right; she did gain valuable insight into the way the man operated. And it might just help her in planning her own case, she mused, as she poked absently at her food.

  By the time they finished eating, coffee had been brought to the table, hot and strong, just as Laura liked it. Howard grinned jovially. “I have this strange feeling that neither of you will be wanting any dessert,” he announced, as he patted his own slightly too snug vest, “but I for one wouldn’t miss it. I also see an old sweetheart of mine.” His eye twinkled naughtily. “So”—he glanced at Max briefly before his gaze settled on his disconcerted daughter—“if you’ll excuse me…” Despite his famous I-know-you-can-do-it-sweetheart look, Laura felt abandoned. And furious! How could her father have left her alone with this man? Now as she watched him saunter off, she wondered at her own timidity. She wasn’t really frightened of Max, but rather of the power which he seemed to wield over the world in general, over her in particular.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” Laura’s heart lurched at the deeply melodious tone that floated the short distance from where Max sat, leaning back, studying her intently.

  Darting a final glance at her father’s retreating figure, she improvised. “I was…thinking how wonderful it is to see my dad again.” Whether the faint flush on her cheeks gave her away, she couldn’t tell. For a moment she feared he would call her on it; his eye bore such a disbelieving glint. Then to her relief, he allowed her the face-saving gesture.

  “He’s quite a man…and quite a lawyer.”

  “Yes.” She smiled proudly now. “He is well known and respected.”

  “From what I see,” Max said thoughtfully, “Grandine, Harper, and Boyd is one of the finest corporate firms in the Midwest. And since Howard is the senior partner, having built the firm from scratch, he deserves most of the credit.”

  Laura nodded her head in recognition of the compliment. “You have done your homework, haven’t you?”

  The added element of warmth that flared in his gaze prepared Laura for a slight redirection of the discussion. “Yes, but sometimes I miss things. For example, had I known that Howard Grandine had such a beautiful daughter stashed away in the Windy City, I would have made a point to meet with him personally rather than conducting business over the telephone.”

  “But I haven’t been stashed away, as you put it, in Chicago,” she protested.

  “Ah, yes,” he agreed, emphasizing each word. “Another error of mine. You certainly are not the small-town girl I had originally supposed.”

  Laura laughed. “Now, what ever gave you that idea?”

  Max’s eyes narrowed. “I seem to recall some line about sophisticated luxury versions, one of which you claimed not to be. Yet, for Howard Grandine’s daughter not to be considered as such is hard to swallow. You certainly m
ade as elegant an entrance as any woman tonight.” The heat of his gaze brought heightened color to her cheeks. “But that blush seems to keep popping up. It’s a very innocent touch. Perhaps we have two different women here, in one very beautiful body.” Laura fumed silently at her inability to come up with a suitable rejoinder. “But now I’ve made it worse,” her tormentor went on with mock regret. “Just tell me one last thing.” He clearly enjoyed her discomfort. “Do you blush in court?”

  “No!” On professional ground, there was no equivocating.

  “Now that’s a relief,” the low voice taunted gently. “The blush has a definite debilitating effect on me.”

  “Then I may just try it one day,” she proposed defensively. “It could be amusing.” He had set himself up for that one, and she knew it. Pleasure was forthcoming, nevertheless, as a broad smile spanned his masculine features, spreading a happiness in its wake that included Laura within its sphere.

  “Tell me,” he asked, still smiling, though his gaze had grown more pensive. “Did you go into law because of your father?”

  Laura thought for a moment, sipping her coffee before she spoke. “If you’re asking whether my father pressured me, the answer is no. On the other hand, I can’t deny that his being a lawyer, and the subsequent exposure to the law I received, did influence my decision.”

  “Is it just you and your dad?”

  “No. I have an older brother. Unfortunately, I don’t see Jack very often.”

  “Where does he live?” The questions flowed freely, yet, to Laura’s pleasure, there was a genuine interest behind them.

  “Washington. He’s the black sheep of the family!” She chuckled at the in-family joke, then, in response to Max’s curiosity, she explained. “He works for the government as a linguist. He’s fluent in seven languages.”

  Max’s grin stole several beats from her heart. “That’s quite a black sheep! Would you believe that I’m considered the black sheep of my family?”