Like Silk

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  Women Are No Longer Seen But Not Heard, Smith!

  Color in the form of fury filled his face. “Great. Just fucking great.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” Kyle said as Collier swung back around.

  “So what do we do?”

  “Not a damn thing except endure.” A muscle ticked overtime in Kyle’s jaw. “I’m sure they’ve got all the legal permits necessary to take your name in vain.”

  Collier swore.

  “Look, just try to ignore it. You might as well. There’s nothing we can do. Right now, I have to go. We’ll talk more later.” Kyle paused. “And don’t worry.”

  Don’t worry? Collier scowled. Like hell he wouldn’t worry. He’d be a fool not to. Collier rubbed his jaw, turned once again from the window and went back to his desk. What a way to start the day.

  His sexual harassment case had gone to trial a week ago, and he’d thought everything had been going pretty smoothly until now. Wonder what the committee would think when they got wind of this?

  Nix his name?

  What about his one-night stand with Brittany? He might as well toss that question into the mix. If the lid ever flipped open on that sealed jar, it would be another strike against him, especially with Lana and her old man in the picture. Just the hint of scandal was all that was needed. He could just hear the rumor mill now.

  Collier’s frown deepened as he peered down at all the legal mumbo jumbo in front of him. Suddenly he longed to tear out of the office, grab Brittany, drive up to the cabin and spend the day making love to her, buried inside her sweet fire.

  Just the thought made his mouth dry and his palms sweaty. He couldn’t think about her right now or he’d never make it through the day. Actually, though, that was all he’d thought about since he’d spent the night in her bed, in her arms.

  But he’d stayed away. He hadn’t seen her since then, though he’d picked up the phone countless times, then slammed it back down. He’d driven by the diner and the travel agency, but he hadn’t gone into either of them.

  “Well, son, what do you think now?”

  Collier’s head jerked up as his stepdad strode through the door, tossing his hat and coat across the nearest chair. “Hello, Dad.”

  “Don’t you wish you’d listened to me?” Mason asked tersely. “I told you not to take this case.”

  “Calm down, Dad, and sit down.”

  “Dammit, this isn’t going to look good,” Mason ranted. “Not good at all.”

  “If you keep this up, you’re health is going to pay for it. Calm down.”

  Mason glared at him. “So how can we put this fire out?”

  “We can’t,” Collier replied evenly. “I’m committed to try the case, and that’s that.”

  Mason’s glare turned fiercer. “You mean you’re not going to bow out?”

  “Would you?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Collier declared.

  Mason’s lips turned white and his voice shook. “If you let this or anything else cost you the bench, I’ll never forgive you.”

  Twenty

  The walls of the small trailer house were closing in on her. Usually her tight, dismal surroundings didn’t bother her, but today they did. She knew why. She was soon to visit Tommy at the prison. On the one hand, she couldn’t wait to see her brother. On the other, it was so depressing, so degrading, for both of them. He’d been in such a foul mood the last few times she’d seen or spoken to him.

  Resentment. That selfish emotion was wreaking havoc with her conscience. Brittany hadn’t wanted anything to interfere with the feeling of euphoria that was her constant companion. Since Collier had spent the night there, nothing had been the same. She hadn’t been the same.

  Everything around her looked different. She felt different. The leaves on the trees seemed more vivid. Her college work had been easier. And she hadn’t seen Rupert.

  At first she had been on an incredible high. A sexual high. She attributed her weird behavior and feelings to that. When he’d had his arms around her, and especially when he was inside her, she’d never felt so treasured, so wanted, so needed.

  So alive.

  And while she knew it was only temporary, that she was only temporary in his life, she had milked every moment of their time together like a miser with ten new pennies. She had relived the numerous times he’d made love to her with his hands, his lips, his tongue.

  She blushed just thinking about how easily he could make her come, especially with his tongue. No one had ever touched or tasted her body like Collier. When it came to making love, he knew all the right buttons to push.

  But then, the same could be said for her, though she didn’t have near the skills he had. Still, she knew she turned him on with equal fervor. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t as artful. His inexplicable but intense attraction to her was her best weapon. And she’d used it.

  In her heart of hearts, she had nursed the hope that she’d hear from him again, that he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her. But after a week her hopes had begun to fade, leaving her feeling empty and without purpose. It had seemed to hit her square in the face this morning, when she’d awakened, that he wasn’t going to come around again.

  He had gotten what he wanted, and he now was back with his beautiful fiancée. She made a distasteful face, hating the thought of his being with someone else. Jealousy stampeded through her, an emotion heretofore foreign to her. Then a prick of conscience followed. She was the intruder, not the other woman.

  Blame rested on her own shoulders for giving in to her physical needs, for throwing sane caution to the wind and going with those needs. If she had it to do all over again, would she opt to place her heart in jeopardy and spend the night in his arms?

  Yes.

  For a while he had pulled her out of her drab, dreary existence and plunged her into a fantasy world. Too bad she couldn’t hang on to that world for a bit longer. Unfortunately the close confines of her rinky-dink home and the upcoming trip to the prison had brought her back to reality with a hard knock.

  Realizing she’d squandered precious hours of her one day off, she kicked herself mentally. It was almost time to head for the prison, and she hadn’t done anything constructive.

  She was about to put some clothes in the washer when the phone rang. For a second her heart leaped, as it always did when her initial reaction was that it might be Collier. When it wasn’t—because it never was—her heart immediately sank.

  This afternoon it was Sissy. “Hey, what are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m about to leave and go see Tommy.”

  “That’s right. This is your day.”

  “What’s up?” Brittany hoped Sissy wasn’t planning on leaving town again. Cramming in extra hours at the agency was great for her pocketbook but hard on her classwork. She had some tough labs coming up in the next few weeks that would require extra time and effort.

  “Not much. When will you be back?”

  “Not late,” Brittany responded. “Why?”

  “That’s good. Since your bad experience, I worry about you when you’re on the road.”

  “It’s nice to know someone does.”

  “How ’bout lunch tomorrow?”

  “With you?” Brittany didn’t know what made her ask that question. Perhaps it was the way Sissy issued the invitation, much more formally than usual, that made her inquire.

  “Yes, and Rupert Holt.”

  Brittany stiffened and bit down on her lip to keep from shouting not just “No!” but “Hell no.”

  “You don’t want to go.” Sissy’s tone was flat. “Look, you know I believe in sucking up to our best customers….” Her voice trailed off.

  Brittany got the message. “I know that,” she responded tightly, “and I understand.” And she did, but she wasn’t having any part of that outing. The fact remained, though, that she couldn’t tell Sissy the truth. She felt as if she was walking on thin ice.

  “And since
he thinks we do such a great job for him,” Sissy added, “he’s asked us to lunch.”

  “You go, and I’ll mind the shop.”

  “No, no. He insists on you coming, too.”

  “I’d rather not,” Brittany said cautiously, feeling the ice begin to crack under her feet.

  “Oh, come on,” Sissy said in a coaxing voice. “You never have any fun. And this will be fun. You know what a great guy he is.”

  Brittany clamped down on the hysterical laughter that bubbled to the surface. “What about his wife?”

  “Angel? She won’t care. Why should she? It’s business.”

  “Tell him I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t want to go. You know how antisocial I am.”

  “If you hadn’t been through some tough times lately, I’d browbeat you into going. But if you really don’t want to, then I won’t insist.”

  “Good girl,” Brittany replied with great relief and forced humor.

  “I’m hardly a girl,” Sissy said dryly. “But we’ll let that slide for the moment. Anyhow, you be careful and give Tommy my best.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Glancing at the clock, Brittany noticed that she’d run out of time. After giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror, she grabbed her purse and left the mobile home, trying to get a handle on the fury that Rupert’s under-handed dealings had evoked.

  The sneaky bastard! It seemed he would stop at nothing, would stoop to any level, to get his way.

  That was what frightened her the most.

  “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

  Tommy shrugged. “I’ve been forcing myself to eat the slop they serve in here.”

  Brittany’s relief was almost palpable. The second she’d seen her brother she’d sensed that something was different, but she hadn’t been able to put her finger on it. She wouldn’t have guessed it was the few extra pounds that made the difference, but stranger things had happened. Besides, she’d take any good news she could get these days.

  “You’ve had me worried,” she said at last.

  “You worry too much.”

  Brittany forced a smile. “It comes with the territory. After all, you’re my responsibility.”

  He didn’t respond to that. Instead, he averted his gaze, which made her suddenly uneasy. When Tommy couldn’t look at her, something was usually amiss. What was he trying to hide?

  “I’ve been going to chapel.”

  Brittany barely stopped her mouth from gaping. “To chapel?” she repeated in stunned disbelief. “As in church?”

  “Yeah. Kinda shocks you, doesn’t it?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yep.”

  Clearly disconcerted by this news, but jubilant, Brittany struggled to find the right words to respond. “That’s…wonderful.”

  “The other day this guy started talking to me. At first I tried to dodge him, thinking he was just coming on to me. But after he did me a favor and asked for nothing in return, I started talking to him some.” Tommy paused and took a breath. “Come to find out, he’s a goddamn preacher.”

  Brittany paled. “I wish you wouldn’t use that word, especially not when you’re talking about a man of God.”

  “Sorry, sis, but this is all new to me.”

  “No, it isn’t. Mother took us both to church.”

  “Well, it didn’t stick,” he countered, sounding irritated.

  Careful not to fan that irritation or put a damper on his news, she smiled warmly. “I’m glad you found someone who you can at least talk to.”

  Although she didn’t doubt that Tommy’s change of heart was sincere, she didn’t think for a moment it was permanent. But if it helped him through this rough patch, she would be thrilled.

  “If I get in any more trouble,” he said darkly, “they’ve said I’ll never get parole.”

  Panic rushed through her. “Oh, no, Tommy!” she cried. “You…we can’t let them do that.”

  “Then get me out.”

  “Don’t start, please. Nothing has changed. I’m still doing everything I can.” Short of accepting Rupert’s help, that was. She squirmed against a sudden prick of conscience. Maybe…? Never! There had to be another way to help her brother. There just had to be.

  “Sis, what’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “You looked kinda weird for a second.”

  Brittany forced another smile. “It’s just your imagination. I’m fine.”

  “If things work out, I might get to help in the chapel office.”

  “Tommy, that’s great news. Praise the Lord.”

  “I’ll start praising Him when I get outta this joint.”

  Before she could respond, the guard indicated that their time was up. With a heavy heart, Brittany said her goodbyes, and shortly afterward she walked out into the blinding sunlight. It was while she was searching her purse for her sunglasses that she realized she wasn’t alone.

  She lifted her head, and her eyes widened. Collier was standing in front of her. For what seemed the longest time they just stared at each other, a devouring stare, as though both of them were remembering the last time they’d been together.

  Brittany’s hands began to tremble. She shoved them into her pockets before he noticed.

  “What in heaven’s name are you doing here?” Collier finally asked, his voice sounding scratchy.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” she responded in a breathless tone.

  “I have a friend who’s here.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said lamely, licking her lip.

  “Brittany, I…” His voice faltered as his eyes once again seemed to devour her.

  “You asked me why I’m here, right?” she asked suddenly, shattering the erotic spell that had fallen over them.

  He gave a start. “Right.”

  Deciding it was time he knew the truth about her, the good, the bad and the ugly, she blurted out, “I came to see my brother. He’s an inmate.”

  It was obvious Collier was taken aback, though, to his credit, he rebounded quickly. But as an attorney, that was what he’d been trained to do—think on his feet. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured, shifting her gaze. How had this happened, this chance meeting out of the blue? She’d ached all week to see him, to be within touching distance of him. But not here, not like this, she cried silently. Not on prison grounds, one of the places she hated most in the world.

  He cleared his throat. “Is there anything I can do? I mean—” He shoved his hands through his hair, then muttered, “Hell, I don’t know what I mean.”

  “Thanks for asking, but I doubt there’s anything you can do.”

  Silence.

  “What’s his name?” he pressed in a tortured tone.

  She met his gaze head-on. “It’s Tommy Rogers, but—”

  Collier flinched visibly, as if she’d struck him. This time she was taken aback. Had she missed something? “What’s wrong? Do you know him?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said in a cold, harsh voice, “I know him, all right.”

  “But…how?” she stammered, stepping back, uncomfortable with that look in his eyes, that same vengeful look he’d given her when he’d demanded that she press assault charges against Rupert.

  “How?” He laughed mirthlessly. “He’s the little bastard who hit my brother and put him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”

  Twenty-One

  By sheer force of will, Brittany made it to her car. Once there, she laid her head back against the seat and took deep, heaving breaths, feeling as if she’d been socked in the stomach.

  Mentally she had been. After Collier had delivered his knockout punch, he’d turned away and walked to his car, leaving her standing alone and defenseless in the wake of his destruction. Now, as she struggled to come to terms with what he’d told her, she was finding that impossible. Her heart and mind were rejecting the despicable truth.
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  Suddenly she felt sick to her stomach. But, following several more deep breaths, the queasiness eased. Still, she was shaking and weak all over, as if she’d come down with a nasty virus.

  If only that were the case. Unfortunately her plight wasn’t that simple or easy to get over. Her malady was permanent.

  Collier Smith. Collier Smith. Collier Smith.

  His name ran through her mind like an endless freight train, until it finally made the right connection. He was the Smith in Williams, Smith and Rutledge. But how was she to have known? To her knowledge, Collier had never been at the trial, though it would have been easy to have missed him. After Tommy’s accident, she’d been in such a terrified state that a lot of details had escaped her. Throughout the court proceedings, she’d barely hung on to her sanity, much less anything else.

  Jackson Williams, the high-powered attorney whose life Tommy had wrecked, was Collier’s brother. Another jab of pain to the stomach forced her upright in the seat.

  Unbelievable. Impossible. Unfair.

  Those words and more pelted her brain, keeping her breathing abnormal and her stomach in an upheaval. Angry tears marred her vision. Maybe if Jackson and Collier had had the same last name, she might have put two and two together. But since they were apparently stepbrothers, no way would she have made that connection.

  The point was moot now. The damage had been done, and beating up on herself was fruitless and detrimental. But she couldn’t stop her self-flagellation any more than she could stop breathing.

  Tommy must never find out what she had done. Hysteria suddenly took the place of tears, and she almost laughed out loud at the irony of the situation. God, what had she done? She had slept with a man who would love to see her brother spend the rest of his life rotting behind bars.

  The sudden tap on the window sent another shock wave through her. Brittany darted her head around, thinking the unthinkable. Hoping for the impossible. It was a man, all right, but it wasn’t Collier.