His Chosen Bride

by Marcia Evanick

  The Honorable Judge Blacksword was magnificent, but then, she knew he would be. He always was, and it would take more than a bunch of whiny, demanding lawyers dressed in expensive suits to throw him off his stride. This was his court and he wasn’t afraid of letting everyone know it.

  Desire ignited throughout Gillian’s body as Blacksword’s dark and intense gaze landed on her. She mustered a cocky grin that belied the riot of emotions storming her body, then stared back. Her treacherous body remembered the heat of his touch. It was as if he was touching her again. Her breasts swelled slightly and her nipples hardened into twin points of desire against the lace of her bra. Her heart picked up its pace and her mouth went dry. How could he do all this to her with only a look?

  A small victory was hers when he looked away first. She glanced down at the briefcase sitting on her lap and sighed. If only all the victories were that easy.

  Mason Blacksword’s dark and dangerous looks kept most people at arm’s length. He was devastatingly handsome with his dark hair, long, flowing black robes and his preference for dark clothes. Mason Blacksword was the personification of a modern-day warlock and, in her eyes, sexy as sin. He was also her chosen groom. In less than two months she was going to become the warlock’s bride!

  Ten minutes later Gillian met her nervous client, Rosa Gonzalez, outside the courtroom doors and tried to reassure her. “Listen, Rosa, everything is going to be okay. Juan isn’t here. In fact, he knows nothing about this court order. He won’t find out until he receives his first paycheck minus child support.”

  Gillian reached out and squeezed Rosa’s hand. “It’ll be over with in five minutes.”

  Rosa gave her a fleeting smile before returning her attention to her young sons. Four-year-old Juan Jr. was lifting two-year-old Jésus up to get a drink from the water fountain. “They haven’t seen their father in over a year.”

  “That’s his decision, not theirs, Rosa. Your ex-husband has visiting rights, and if he wishes not to use them, that’s his choice. But it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be financially responsible for the children he helped to create.” Gillian glanced at her watch and frowned. “We better head in just in case they’re ahead of schedule. Judge Blacksword doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” It was the understatement of the year, but she didn’t want to make Rosa more nervous.

  She turned to open the courtroom door for Rosa and her sons when it was snatched out of her hands and she was forced back. A small fortune in suits came hustling out of the doors, each one containing a grumbling lawyer. Gillian’s smile grew as she caught snatches of their complaints.

  A few young lawyers, who had obviously never appeared in front of Mason before, seemed awestruck. A couple of the older lawyers cursed his black heart and their rotten luck to have him presiding over their appeal. Their client, a young son of a famous suspected Mafia leader, had been busted with a couple of kilos of cocaine, and they had unsuccessfully tried to get him off with just a slap on the wrist and a fine for possession of a narcotic for recreational use. Judge Blacksword had laughed them out of his court.

  Gillian hustled Rosa and the boys in just as the bailiff called their case. Gillian gave Rosa a reassuring smile and led her to the front of the room.

  Ten minutes later the court order was approved. The court would make sure it was promptly served, and Rosa would be receiving a child-support check directly from the courts, starting with her ex-husband’s next paycheck.

  Gillian’s only disappointment was that Rosa’s ex-husband didn’t have any assets the court could order him to sell to make up for the back support he hadn’t paid. She was pleased with the outcome, even if it was predictable. She had never been denied a court order, thanks to her expertise and how meticulously precise she was with her paperwork.

  She wasn’t disappointed that Mason seemed to look right through her and treated her with the same professional, if reluctant, courtesy he normally displayed toward everyone in his courtroom.

  Gillian grinned at Rosa. “See, I told you it would only take a few minutes.”

  Rosa glanced around the courtroom looking a little bemused. “That’s all there is to it?”

  “He was already ordered once by the court to pay support when you filed for divorce. The amount had been set previously, so all we needed to do this time was prove he left his former employer and stopped paying support. Now that we located his new employer, the court order will see to it that child support will be taken out of his paychecks once again.”

  Rosa grabbed Jésus’s arm as he tried to climb over the back of one of the benches. “How can I thank you?”

  Gillian grinned at Jésus and Juan. They were charming little boys with mischievous eyes and killer smiles. “Take good care of your sons, Rosa. They’re a very precious gift.”

  Rosa beamed proudly.

  “Ms. Barnett?”

  Gillian turned and smiled at Bill Grayman, the court’s bailiff. “Hello, Bill. What can I do for you?” She had known Bill for over a year. He was a permanent fixture in Mason’s court.

  “His Honor would like to see you in his chambers when you are finished.”

  Gillian glanced around the courtroom and noticed everyone was leaving for the lunch break. Mason must have called a recess, and she had been so busy talking to Rosa she hadn’t even noticed. She kept her smile friendly. “Thanks, Bill.”

  Rosa wrung her hands together. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, Rosa, I know the judge. We go back pretty far. He probably wants to give me a message from my grandmother.”

  Bill gave her a strange look. “Do you need me to stick around?”

  “No, Bill, you go ahead to lunch. I know my way.” She gave Rosa a nod as she snapped her briefcase closed. “Why don’t you treat the boys to lunch and celebrate before you drop them off at the sitter’s? Things should be getting easier for you once the checks start coming back in.”

  Rosa reached for Gillian’s hand. “Thanks, Gillian, for all you’ve done. I’ll start sending you your fee as soon as the checks start arriving.”

  “Take care, Rosa, and let me know if you have any more problems getting the child support. You shouldn’t, but sometimes ex-husbands don’t stay where they should.”

  “You think Juan will run again?”

  “It’s possible, but he’ll be notified that if we have to get another court order to attach his wages, the court won’t be too happy with him.” Gillian gave Rosa’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Don’t worry about what might happen, Rosa.”

  Gillian watched as Rosa and the boys left the courtroom. Bill, who was standing by the door, gave her another strange look, before following Rosa and the noisy boys out the door. What did Mason want that was so important that he summoned her to his chambers? Never once had he acknowledged her as anything other than a guest in his court. Now, at her last appearance in front of him, he wished to see her in his chambers.

  She smoothed down her jacket, picked up her briefcase and headed for the door that led to his chambers. All he probably wanted was to ask her to call off the wedding again. She wondered if he visualized a noose being slipped around his neck and the Council tightening it. If he was going to fight against the marriage at this late stage, it served him right. He should be suffering nightmares about nooses and balls and chains. She might not be one hundred percent for this marriage, but she’d be damned if she would be left standing at the altar.

  Taking a deep breath, she knocked lightly on his door. A moment later his deep voice responded, “Come in.”

  Gillian opened the door and stepped into his chambers. She watched as he hung up his robe on an oldfashioned coatrack behind his desk. “You wanted to see me?” Curiously, she glanced around the room. So this was where her future husband spent all his time. It was impressive looking, she’d grant him that. Two entire walls were nothing but bookshelves crammed with an entire forest of legal volumes. A massive desk sat in the center of the room. It looked both expensive and old.
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  “Close the door, Gillian.” He walked around the desk and nodded toward a burgundy leather sofa. “I think we need to talk.”

  She closed the door and placed her briefcase near the sofa before taking a seat. “About what? The court order you just granted?”

  “No. I granted the order because once again you had done your homework and everything was in order. If it wasn’t, I would never have approved it.”

  “I know.” Somewhere in his statement, she was positive, there was a compliment. She crossed her legs and tugged the hem of her skirt over her knees. She should have worn high heels instead of the navy flats. But this morning she had been dressing for comfort and hadn’t given one thought to the way high heels enhanced her legs. “So if this isn’t a business call, what’s it about? Pleasure?”

  Mason lowered himself onto the other end of the couch. “I want you to tell me why you were afraid this morning when you first entered the room.”

  Gillian silently groaned and studied her fingers twisting themselves into knots on her lap. She should have known Mason would have picked up on her fear the minute she walked into the courtroom. The incident with the letter was too recent to hide her fears. Mason was too perceptive, and she was too open. Lying to Mason never crossed her mind. She gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. “It’s a business matter. Don’t worry, I’m handling the problem.”

  He continued to stare at her for a long moment. “Need any help?”

  “No thanks.” It shouldn’t have surprised her that he had offered to help. Although Mason didn’t seem like the kind of guy who went around rescuing damsels in distress, she was about to become his wife. She knew it would seem tacky if she landed on the front page of a newspaper knee-deep in trouble.

  She didn’t like the way Mason kept staring at her as if trying to decide what to say next. She had thrown up her shields as soon as she realized Mason had picked up on her fear. The last thing she wanted him to sense was her desire for him.

  “Was that what you wanted to discuss?” Gillian asked. “A little business problem I’m having at the moment?”

  “No.” He gave the knot in his tie a tug and undid the top button of his shirt. He shot her a peculiar look and said, “I wanted to apologize.”

  Gillian was so startled that her shields dropped for a moment. She quickly put them back up and stammered, “Apologize for what?”

  “For my behavior the other night.”

  It was a good thing the door was closed. The slightest draft would have knocked her off the couch. Mason was apologizing for his behavior the other night! What was next, the earth falling off its axis and spinning wildly throughout the galaxy? “What part of your behavior are you apologizing for?” She could count quite a few things he should be apologizing for, starting with telling her she looked like a streetwalker and ending with asking her to call off the wedding.

  “There are a couple things I need to apologize for.”

  Gillian narrowed her gaze. Mason had his shields up, too, so she couldn’t read him, but she was getting a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Mason initiating the conversation was weird enough to begin with. His acting friendly and cordial was bizarre. But having Mason apologize to her was downright frightening. She should run, not walk, from the room. Curious, she stayed seated and met his gaze. “I can’t accept your apology until I know what you’re apologizing for.”

  “First, my comment concerning your dress was both uncalled-for and insulting.”

  She blinked and rapidly closed her mouth, which had fallen open.

  “You looked quite attractive and stunning in that dress.” He continued to stare at her. “If I’m going to be totally honest with you, I have to say you were the most beautiful woman at the party.”

  No amount of trying could convince her mouth to close this time. Mason thought she was beautiful? A fiery flush of pleasure swept up her cheeks. Lord, she was in trouble now. He really must be desperate to get out of the marriage if he was resorting to compliments. She gazed down at her hands and mumbled a polite “Thank you.”

  “I also want to apologize for asking you to ask the Council to call off the wedding and for my behavior when you refused.”

  Her gaze jerked to his face. He was serious. Dead serious.

  “I won’t give an excuse for my discourteous conduct—there is none. But I would like to say that the stress of our upcoming wedding has been playing on my mind lately.” He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders and relaxed back into the corner of the couch. “I would like to consider the whole incident as a case of ‘cold feet.’”

  Cold feet! There was a big difference between second thoughts and opposition. Mason had always been opposed to the wedding. He was playing at something, and she hadn’t the first clue as to what. For now, her only option was to play along until she learned what the game was. “Apology accepted.”

  Mason’s mouth gave a ghost of a smile. “Thank you.”

  She looked away from the seductive fullness of his lower lip. The last thing she needed was to be fantasizing about what his kisses would taste like or what he would look like when he smiled. Devastating was her gut reaction on both counts. Why was her body having such a hard time remembering this was the man who didn’t want to marry her? “So you decided to speak to the Council yourself?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I’ve decided the marriage might not be such a bad idea after all.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “I never kid, Gillian.”

  She knew that. Everyone knew that. Mason never kidded around. Never joked. Hell, he never even smiled. “What changed your mind?”

  “I figured the Council will never give me a moment’s peace until I do marry.” He gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Might as well be you.”

  “Jeez, Mason. You say the sweetest things.” The sarcasm in her voice was thick enough to choke a pig.

  “I figured you for a person who would rather have honesty than pretty words.”

  “When have you ever used pretty words, Mason?” He was right about the honesty, but a few pretty words wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. In several weeks, everyone, including him, would expect her to share his bed. “Might as well be you” wasn’t her idea of foreplay.

  “With my busy schedule, I don’t have time for flowery speeches and unnecessary words.”

  “Three minutes ago you called me beautiful.” She wasn’t going to let him forget that.

  “You are a beautiful woman.” His glance wandered over her body for a quick moment. “I was only stating the truth.”

  Sweet fire burned throughout her body wherever his gaze landed. How could he sit there so calm and collected when she felt like a tumbleweed blowing through a blazing town? Sooner or later she was going to be blown directly into the flames. “So the wedding is still on?”

  “It was never off.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Only in your dreams.”

  “I don’t dream.”

  “Ever?” She had never heard of someone who didn’t dream. Was it even possible or did he control his mind so tightly that he refused to allow it such nonsense?

  “Never.”

  “Maybe you just don’t remember them. I heard that a person has three to five dreams a night, but they’re lucky to remember just one.”

  “I don’t dream, Gillian, therefore there is nothing to remember.” He stood up. “I have to grab something to eat before court resumes. Would you care to join me?”

  Gillian stood up and reached for her briefcase. “Uh…no, thank you.” Normally she would have grabbed the chance to have lunch with Mason. “I don’t think it would look too proper if we’re seen together enjoying a meal right after you ruled on my court order.”

  “That reminds me—” he picked up his suit jacket and put it on “—I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be hearing any more of your cases.”

  “I already thought of that. My next appearance is before Judge Cronan
.” Why hadn’t she noticed before how wide his shoulders were? She watched, fascinated, as they slipped inside the black jacket.

  “He’s a good, fair judge.” He walked her to the door.

  “I know.” She stopped before the door. “Can you do me one favor?” She glanced at his mouth. Either she was very brave, or very foolish. At this point she didn’t know which, but her curiosity was killing her.

  “What?”

  The childish proverb thundered across her brain: Curiosity killed the cat! She ignored the thunder and asked, “Kiss me?”

  Mason went utterly still, his hand gripping the knob. He stared at her for a long, hard moment. His gaze seemed permanently locked on to her mouth. “You want me to kiss you?”

  Gillian noticed the rough edge to his voice and couldn’t decide if it was from horror or desire. “We’ll be doing more than that in seven weeks.”

  One black brow rose high on his forehead and a glint of something that might have been laughter gleamed in his eyes. “True.” He released the doorknob and stepped closer.

  She forgot to breathe as his head lowered and his mouth claimed hers. The sweet pressure of his lips drew her in closer. She wanted to taste more, to feel more. The warmth of his suit jacket heated her fingers as they roamed up the lapels, over the shoulders, to toy with the ends of his hair caressing his neck.

  Mason hauled her closer and deepened the kiss. A groan of desire rumbled up his throat and into her mouth. The heat of the kiss turned into an inferno of need.

  Her breasts were crushed against his chest and the door pressed against her back. And still she wanted to be closer. How was it possible to want a man so badly it ached and burned at the same time? She met the thrust of his tongue with a soft, seductive sweep of her own.

  Hands roamed over her hips. Strong, capable hands caressed her body with feverish intent. She arched her hips forward and felt the full length of his arousal press against her abdomen.