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by Mary Lynn Baxter


  “You obviously have something on your mind. Let’s hear it.”

  Collier flushed. “I’m not sure you even care.”

  “Trust me, we care,” Robb said emphatically.

  Baring his love life seemed so Harry High School, he wanted to throw up. Maybe if he just touched on the outer edges, he could get through it.

  “I’m involved with a woman.”

  Robb’s lips twitched. “I would hope so.”

  Collier didn’t respond to his dark humor. “Her brother’s the one who’s responsible for putting my brother in a wheelchair.”

  Robb’s eyebrows rose. “Is she public knowledge?”

  “My family knows.”

  “And do they approve?”

  “Not really, but if the press were to get hold of that information they’d—”

  “Rip you to pieces,” Robb said bluntly.

  “There’s that possibility.”

  “With that in mind, are you going to continue to see her?”

  Collier didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Then we’ll just have to wait and see what fireworks erupt, if any.” Robb paused. “Are you still trying that harassment case?”

  “Yes. But things seem to have settled down in the press. Of course, we’re still dueling it out in the courtroom. I won’t deny that. In order to defend my client, however, I’m convinced my conduct is right on target.”

  “We’re not trying to tell you how to do your job. The committee’s just questioning your choice.”

  “I believe in my client’s innocence. In any case, I took the case before I knew I was being considered for the bench, which I stated.”

  “Well, as you say, the furor seems to have settled, and so far the feminists haven’t tarred and feathered you.”

  “That might happen yet,” Collier pointed out calmly, though there was nothing calm about him. “Especially if I get my client off.”

  “Think that will happen?”

  “Sure do. I told you, I firmly believe he’s innocent.”

  From the frown on Robb’s face, that declaration didn’t please him, but Collier couldn’t afford not to prepare him for any possible fallout. The attorney, however, didn’t dwell on the subject, choosing to move on.

  “Anything else?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Still think you’re up to the job, Smith?”

  “Absolutely, although I know holding people’s fates in my hands will not be easy. And does that bother me? Give me sleepless nights? You bet it does. If admitting that undermines my—”

  “Quite the contrary, actually,” Robb interrupted. “If you didn’t feel that way, then you would already have been nixed. While a judge’s job is often thankless, it should never become heartless.”

  Collier figured that was as close to a compliment as he was going to get from the Judicial Committee. Robb shut his notebook and stood, then extended his hand. Collier followed suit and shook it, suddenly feeling vulnerable again, just as he’d felt growing up, hoping he’d pleased his stepdad but never sure. The attorney’s face gave nothing away.

  “Good luck in court,” Robb said, an impersonal smile briefly touching his lips.

  “Thanks.”

  Robb nodded. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Once he was alone, Collier released a shaky breath, then peered at his watch. He wanted to talk to Brittany. More than that, he wanted to see her. Before he could do anything along those lines, though, he had something else to do. His hand was on the receiver when he heard another tap on the door.

  “Yeah?”

  Kyle strode in. “Got a minute?”

  “Actually, I was about to buzz you.”

  “Does it have to do with your visitor?” Kyle asked, sitting down. “Pam just told me.”

  “Yeah, I got grilled, but I think I held my own.” Collier rubbed the back of his neck. “But who knows. Politics is a cutthroat business.”

  “I still think you’re the man for the job.”

  “You’re prejudiced.”

  Kyle smiled. “You’d better hope so.”

  Collier remained sober. “Look, I’m due in court shortly, so I’m going to make this as quick as possible.”

  As if he sensed Collier was upset, Kyle didn’t respond. He merely sat calmly and waited for his boss to elaborate.

  “I’ve got a real mess to clean up,” Collier said gravely.

  “Does it involve the Banks woman?”

  “Yes.” Collier told him the gist of his conversations with Darwin, then Mason.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Kyle said in a low voice. “I didn’t think anything could ever shock me again, but I was wrong.”

  “I don’t have to tell you the fallout from this, if it gets out.”

  “So are you saying you’re keeping your mouth shut?”

  “For now. Or at least until you get me the information I need. Don’t leave a stone unturned when it comes to Tommy Rogers.” Collier hesitated, feeling as if he had a death sentence hanging over him. “And find that girlfriend of his,” Collier added tersely.

  “Then what?” Kyle’s gaze was piercing.

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” Collier’s tone was bleak.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Nailing my own coffin closed, more than likely,” Collier muttered.

  “So you haven’t said anything to the woman?”

  Collier’s eyes glinted. “Her name is Brittany.”

  Kyle flushed, then shuffled his feet. “Uh, right.”

  “Look, I know you don’t approve, and I understand why.” Collier heaved a deep sigh. “So let’s just leave it at that and move on.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “I say start with the court transcript, go over it with a fine-tooth comb.”

  “If Brewster wasn’t just blowing hot air and using the accident to get what he wanted out of Mason, and the girl’s on the up and up, then Rogers will probably walk.”

  Collier compressed his lips. “I’m aware of that.”

  “What about Jackson? Is he aware of what’s going on?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t have to point out the obvious, then.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Thank God your old man won’t be hung out to dry,” Kyle said. “That sly fox was smart enough to cover—”

  Collier cut him off with a savage gesture. “You just take care of the legwork, then we’ll go from there.”

  For a moment Collier thought Kyle might press his point, but he didn’t. Instead he took a deep breath, then said, “Sure thing, boss.”

  Once Kyle reached the door, Collier stopped him. “This demands kid gloves, Kyle.” His voice turned hard. “Don’t let me down.”

  Her body felt on fire. Yet it felt wonderful, which didn’t make sense. Was she dreaming? Of course she was, Brittany assured herself. In reality, nothing could feel this good.

  It was her own groan that made Brittany realize she wasn’t dreaming after all. She was in Collier’s bed, and his head was between her legs. He was making love to her with his tongue.

  “Oh,” she whimpered, giving in to the magic raking her body, especially after he eased a finger along the crevice between her buttocks. “Oh!” she cried again, bucking her hips until release finally came.

  Then he gathered her lethargic body next to his and whispered, “Go back to sleep, my darling.”

  But she couldn’t. Though she was drained in both body and soul, her mind wouldn’t quiet. It kept going over the events that had led up to another marathon evening of lovemaking.

  Out of the blue, he had called and asked her to dinner, taking her to another out-of-the-way restaurant. While she enjoyed his company, along with the wine and food, she knew that sooner or later she was going to have to take her pride off the shelf, where she’d stored it, and give him up. Apparently he wasn’t going to take the drastic step of taking their relationship public, not unle
ss he was forced to.

  While she didn’t have nearly as much at stake as he did, she deserved better than a back-alley affair. Her solid work ethic, her drive, her pride and her good name were all the bragging rights she had. And continuing to let him use her was beginning to destroy her.

  Still, when they had gone inside his condo, she hadn’t objected, especially not after they stripped naked and got into the shower. Once her body was wet and slippery, he’d backed her against the tile, hoisted her to his waist and pierced her with his erection.

  Following several thrusts and grunts, they were spent. A short time later he had carried her back into the bedroom, dripping wet. When he would have put her down on the bed, she stopped him.

  “What?” he asked in a strained voice, his eyes questioning.

  “A treat,” she answered breathlessly. “For you.” Then, getting out of his arms, she stood in front of him. Beginning with his lower lip, she drew it into her mouth and sucked. He moaned a deep belly moan, clutching her shoulders as though to stop his knees from buckling.

  Finally she let go of his lip, opting to investigate another moan zone. Using her tongue, she licked an imaginary line down the middle of his body, from his chin to his penis, licking the water off his body as she went.

  “Oh, yes, yes.”

  Following those thickly muttered words, he tangled his fingers in her hair the second after she landed on her knees in front of his distended flesh and took it into her mouth.

  “Oh, Brittany,” he cried, trying to bring her to her feet.

  Purposely ignoring him, she continued to suck the moist, velvet tip, tasting him on her tongue, massaging his balls at the same time.

  “I can’t wait!”

  She still didn’t stop.

  Now, as she lay motionless against his sleeping body, she felt her face flush with color at her boldness. She had done to him something she’d never done to another man, never even considered. But with Collier, it seemed so right. Perfect, in fact. Besides, she had to take advantage of him and his body when she could, reveling in the feel and smell of him, ever conscious that this might be the last time she saw him.

  Hot sex came with no guarantees.

  Yet she knew it was much more for her. She loved him. She might as well admit it, though it sickened her to do so, knowing he would end up stomping her heart into tiny pieces.

  It was only after she felt him jolt that she realized she must have dug her nails into his skin.

  “How long have you been awake?” he asked in an indulgent tone.

  “Not long,” she lied.

  “We…we have to talk.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “Look—”

  Swallowing her rising panic that he was truly going to end it, she interrupted, blurting out, “Tommy’s in the hospital.” She hadn’t meant to say that; the words had just come out.

  “So that’s why you were so quiet at dinner.”

  She fingered his hair. “What’s your excuse?”

  He didn’t respond. Instead he just looked at her, a tormented expression on his face. She turned away from the pain mirrored there.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can keep leaving you.”

  Her soul rejoiced. That was as close to a commitment as he’d ever come. Dare she hope? No, she wouldn’t do that to herself. She would simply savor their time together.

  At this moment his lips were surrounding a breast and a finger was slipping inside her warmth.

  She sighed and gave in to the exquisite sensations once again filling her body.

  Thirty-Six

  Rupert knew things should be easy, so why the hell weren’t they?

  All he had to do was attend one of his wife’s highbrow parties and drop a word or two here and there about Collier’s affair with Brittany and the damage would be done. Gossip would spread like wildfire, and Smith’s ass would be grass.

  First out of the gate to blast Collier would be Senator Riley and the committee; they wanted no hint of scandal to touch their candidates, wouldn’t tolerate it. Next would be Bill Frazier, Lana’s overprotective father, who wouldn’t stand for his little girl being bested by a waitress from the wrong side of the tracks.

  So why hadn’t he made his move?

  Brittany. She was who held him back, who had a lock on his tongue. She would know who had ratted on Collier, maybe not right away, but she’d figure it out. If not, Smith would tell her. Then he would be dead in the water as far as she was concerned. He couldn’t bear that.

  At least he had her hoodlum brother on his side. Pulling strings and getting into the pen to see Rogers had been a stroke of genius. Before Smith, helping her brother and getting that freaking education had been all Brittany cared about. But once Smith entered the picture, things had changed. She had changed.

  Rupert knew he was to blame for her change in attitude toward him. He never should have gotten drunk and assaulted her. Before that, he’d had her eating out of his hand. Why, the minute he would walk into the agency, her face would light up and she would be so friendly.

  But dammit, friendship hadn’t been what he’d had in mind. He wanted to make love to her. That fateful night, following dinner, when she’d cringed at his touch, he’d lost it. No woman had ever treated him in such a manner. Still, he’d been so sure that he could make that sin up to her and she would forgive him, especially if he was patient and used her brother’s plight to his advantage.

  His ploy would have worked, too, if Smith hadn’t messed things up.

  Rupert felt his temper rise as he bounded out of his chair and prowled the office. How had the two of them met? Hell, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Smith was fucking her and he wasn’t.

  Maybe her stupid brother could convince her that she should let him help them. At least that would bring them back in contact away from the travel agency. Brittany would be forced to see him then.

  The only person who could thwart those plans was Collier Smith.

  Apparently she was smitten by the arrogant attorney. Damn him. Damn them both.

  Rupert knew that this train of thought was forcing his blood pressure sky-high. His head was pounding so hard he feared it might explode. Following several deep breaths, he crossed back to his desk, opened the drawer and removed a bottle of pills. Pitching his head back, he tossed one down the back of his throat, hoping it would eventually knock out his headache.

  If her brother didn’t bring Brittany to heel, he just might have to resort to slandering Smith. Right now his gut still assured him Travis Wainwright was going to get the nod from the president. While old Mason had the clout and the money, his stepson didn’t have the experience, which was a huge strike against him.

  However, the decision as to who sat on the bench wouldn’t affect his feelings for Brittany. He just wanted Smith out of the way. And whatever that took, he would do. Patience, however, was not his strong suit. This mess had gone on long enough; he wanted it resolved.

  As trusting and naive as his wife was, he could have a long-lasting affair with Brittany and Angel would never know. Of course, he would have to be careful; he couldn’t flaunt his extracurricular activities for fear of some of her friends finding out. They might not be as gullible as Angel.

  For now, he didn’t have to worry about that. The woman he was screwing while waiting for Brittany lived in Houston, where he spent a lot of his time. He would keep her until Brittany came to her senses.

  What if she didn’t?

  Feeling a desperate need for a drink, Rupert jerked open the bottom drawer of his desk and took out a full bottle of whiskey. After twisting off the cap, he pitched his head back and took a healthy gulp. Once the alcohol hit his stomach, he reveled in the punch it gave him before guzzling again.

  He had just replaced the cap when he heard a knock on his door. Quickly he dispensed with the bottle, wiped his lips, crammed a piece of gum into his mouth, then made an effort to pull himself back together. No way could his secre
tary or anyone else in the office know he nipped faithfully on the job. Then he remembered that his secretary was on vacation, and he hadn’t bothered to get a sub. Still, he had to be careful. Too much was at stake.

  “It’s open,” he finally said.

  Darwin Brewster strolled through the door. Hoping he was adequately covering his amazement, Rupert got up and came out from behind his desk. He didn’t know the young man very well. They had been at the same parties and had visited socially, but that was the extent of it. Yet he’d heard unflattering rumors about him. Had it been necessary, Brewster was the one in the firm he would have tapped to spy on Collier.

  “I hope I’m not intruding,” Darwin said, stopping midway into the room.

  “Not at all,” Rupert responded, then extended his hand. “Here, have a seat.” He gestured toward the plush chairs and love seat adjacent to his desk.

  “Thanks.”

  “How ’bout some coffee?”

  “No thanks. Just a little of your time, that’s all.”

  “You got it,” Rupert said, barely able to contain his curiosity and excitement. Yes, excitement, he told himself. One of Smith’s cronies wouldn’t be here unless something was up.

  “I understand you’re backing Travis Wainwright for federal judge.” Darwin gave an almost apologetic shrug. “I think you’ve made a wise choice.”

  Rupert’s excitement waned. Surely Brewster hadn’t come to discuss Travis and his merits as a candidate. No, there was more to this visit than that.

  “Thanks for your vote of confidence,” Rupert said, filling the short silence. “I think Travis’ll make a fine judge.”

  “Look, may I be blunt?”

  “By all means,” Rupert said, taken aback by Brewster’s sudden in-your-face attitude. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though. After all, Williams, Smith and Rutledge didn’t hire losers or attorneys without balls.

  “If I’m out of line, I apologize in advance, and we’ll forget this conversation ever took place.”

  Rupert’s excitement rejuvenated itself, along with his curiosity. “Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind, then we’ll go from there?”

 

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