White Collared Part Two: Greed

by Shelly Bell

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

  By Shelly Bell

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  CUTTING AWAY THE others as if they didn’t exist, he cropped the photograph to fill his computer screen with her flawless face and stormy blue eyes glimmering with secrets and lies.

  A true masochist lurked beneath Kate Martin’s carefully crafted persona.

  In every subtle sway of her narrow hips, the girl exuded passion and sex and pain.

  Not unlike her. But the fragile and broken Alyssa had been a lone star while Kate was a galaxy.

  He’d viewed hundreds of naked women. Fucked dozens. Not one of them made his dick throb with unbridled lust like a modestly dressed Kate did.

  Her unblemished skin begged for the kiss of his whip. He’d train her to love the pain only he could bring. To crave it. Need it more than her next breath. To surrender and embrace it like an old friend.

  She’d tried to outrun her past. But didn’t she understand? She’d endured a tragedy and had come away stronger for it. Her hunger rivaled his.

  He hadn’t gotten this far by rushing. He’d meticulously planned and executed every step.

  The men at her side would try to protect her, but how could they shield her from what she wanted? What she needed?

  They couldn’t.

  Eventually, she’d seek shelter in his arms, and, when he caught her, he’d never let her go.

  He only hoped he wouldn’t have to kill her.

  Chapter Two

  Eleven Days to Elections . . .

  WHY WOULD ANYONE do construction in the middle of the night?

  Kate rolled over in bed to grab a pillow to cover her ears and landed stomach-down on the floor.

  Her mouth tasted like battery acid. She blinked away the grittiness in her eyes and saw her front door.

  She’d fallen asleep on the couch.

  As she pushed up into a squat, the pounding started again. Someone was at her door.

  What time was it?

  Confused, the last thing she remembered was taking a shower and changing into her University of Michigan sweatpants and tank top.

  “Coming,” she called out, her voice cracking. Noting that the power was still out, she picked up the candle with one hand and smoothed her hair with the other. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Nick.”

  She opened the door and came face to face with her flashlight-wielding boss. “I brought donuts and hot cocoa,” he said, holding up a paper bag with one hand and balancing a tray with two cups in the other.

  “What time is it?”

  He didn’t wait for her to invite him inside. “Three a.m. Sit down. You look horrible.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she mumbled. As he locked the door, she set down the candle on the side table and collapsed onto the couch, cradling her head in her hands and closing her eyes.

  “Here.” The tempting scent of chocolate enticed her to lift her head. Nick stood behind her, holding the drink up to her face. “Something tells me you need this.”

  She automatically took the cup from him and sipped its contents, humming her assent. Her head continued to pound, but the fog in her brain lifted like a veil.

  Jax. Sex. The phone call.

  She plunked down the hot cocoa next to the candle. “What are you doing here?”

  He handed her a glazed donut and frowned. “You called me.”

  She did? What had she said? She racked her memory. “I told you not to come over.”

  “I ignored you and came anyway. It’s what friends do.” He sauntered to the front door and fingered the chain lock. Crouching, he twisted the doorknob back and forth. “You need a better lock on your door. Anyone could break through the two you have.”

  She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “I’ll be sure to let the building’s superintendent know. He’ll swing by after he’s installed the swimming pool and hot tub.”

  He sat beside her on the couch and stared her down, the candlelight enhancing the flecks of silver in his blue eyes. “You use sarcasm to cover your self-consciousness. It’s your tell. Better work on it now or every lawyer you come up against will use it against you.”

  His stern reprimand stung. “Sorry.”

  A lawsuit was like a poker game. You couldn’t give anything away or the opposing counsel would call your bluff. She’d thought she possessed the perfect poker face.

  How did Nick read her so well?

  He smiled and cupped her bare shoulder, his touch warm on her cool skin. “Don’t be sorry. Everyone starts out their career with a weakness or two. It’s my job to point it out so you can fix it. And you don’t need a superintendent to add a lock to your door. I’ll do it.”

  “You don’t have to.” The guilt of sleeping with Jaxon ate at her, swirling through her stomach and rising to her throat.

  “Humor me.” He brushed a hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Did you get any more calls?”

  “No.” She fidgeted and bit into her donut, trying to convince herself she was no longer attracted to her boss even when a single touch by the man did wicked things to her insides.

  “Good.” He leaned back and folded his arms. “Did you recall anything else? Something that might tip us off as to the caller’s identity?”

  Her stomach cramped. “No. I told you everything. They said Jaxon had killed before and I should drop the case.”

  She hadn’t disclosed to Nick that the caller had known her real name, nor had she mentioned the caller questioning whether she’d had sex with Jaxon. Both topics she wouldn’t—couldn’t—discuss with Nick.

  “There’s only one way to ensure it doesn’t happen again. I’m taking you off the Deveroux case.”

  In only a couple days, this case had become important to her. It wasn’t solely a way to prove her worth to Nick and the firm. Regardless of how she felt about Jaxon personally, she believed in his innocence, and she wanted the system to work the way it was intended.

  She’d spent the last two years, including summers, studying her ass off to become part of the legal system. If she didn’t have that to believe in, what would it mean for her future?

  “You’re not taking me off the case. It was only a phone call. Besides, it was probably a reporter trying to get me to spill some details,” she said nonchalantly, waving her hand. “You put me on as second chair because you believed in me. Has that changed?”

  He placed a hand on her knee. “Of course not.”

  “If I were a man, would you reassign me?”

  “No. If you were a man or any other woman, I wouldn’t worry. But it’s not anyone else.” He gazed at her mouth with more than professional interest. “It’s you.”

  Her heart thudded as she recalled the feel of his lips on hers. Shame stabbed at her chest. She didn’t deserve Nick’s kindness or his caring. He’d told her how he felt and what had she done?

  Slept with his best friend.

  She forced herself to look away and concentrated on stuffing her mouth with the donut.

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You know that, right?” he asked softly.

  She yawned, sleepy from both the late hour and the hot liquid. “I know. I trust you. That’s why I called you when I got the phone call.”

  Complicating the longtime torch she’d carried for him, Nick had morphed from he
r boss and the man she idolized into a real friend.

  He gathered her in his arms and shifted on the couch so her back rested against his chest. “Get some sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

  She sighed when his fingers stroked her hair. “You don’t have to stay.” Despite her protests, her eyes closed and she snuggled into him.

  “Yes, I do,” he whispered.

  She thought she felt him kiss the top of her head. Bathed in the warmth of Nick’s arms, she sank into sleep.

  The next thing she knew, sunshine was streaming through the blinds and her cheek was resting on Nick’s T-shirt-covered chest. One of his hands cradled her hip and the other played with strands of her hair.

  It had to be at least eight. She couldn’t remember a time she’d slept so soundly.

  She peered up at him. “Hi.”

  “Good morning,” he said softly.

  They locked gazes and the air rushed out of her lungs.

  His brown hair was mussed and a small patch of stubble covered his chin. It was a side of Nick she’d never gotten to see. Boyish and informal.

  Nick swallowed thickly and licked his lips, his hand moving from her hip to cup her chin.

  His mouth drifted closer and closer.

  He was going to kiss her.

  And God help her, she was going to let him.

  Her pulse thumped wildly in anticipation and her eyes fluttered shut. His warm breath fanned her lips.

  A loud buzzing from Nick’s phone crushed the moment.

  She opened her eyes. His lips were only a couple millimeters from hers. He swore under his breath as they both sat up, and he pulled the cell from his pocket.

  Disappointment slowed her heart to its normal rhythm. To keep him from noticing her reaction, she picked up the bag of remaining donuts and the two cups of cold cocoa and brought them to the kitchen.

  What was she doing? She’d almost kissed her boss. Again. Only hours after making love with Jaxon. Her head hurt from all the romantic complications of the last few days. She’d gone from having a crush on Nick to kissing him, having sex with Jaxon, and then platonically sleeping with Nick. If the phone hadn’t interrupted them, they would’ve kissed and lord knows what else.

  She was so going to hell.

  When she returned from the kitchen, Nick was pacing the length of her small apartment and talking on the phone. “When did we receive the fax?” He paused, listening. “That was underhanded of them. Scan it in and e-mail it to me then cancel all my appointments for the day. Thanks, Lisa.”

  He stopped his pacing and passed her, going into the kitchen. “Do you have any coffee? We’re going to need it.”

  She followed. “What did Lisa say?”

  Nick leaned against her counter. “The county completed the autopsy and has authorized the release of Alyssa’s body. As her husband, Jaxon should have control, but her parents are contesting it, as well as Alyssa’s will, which stated she wished to be cremated after her death. They’re also petitioning the court for an injunction barring Jaxon from Alyssa’s funeral. The motion was faxed to us last night and hand-delivered this morning.”

  She switched on the coffeemaker and filled it with fresh water. “When did the medical examiner officially authorize the release?”

  “This morning, which means someone gave her parents a heads-up.”

  She added a scoop of coffee grounds to the coffeemaker. “Who? How?”

  Nick shrugged. “Money talks, and the Merriweathers are well-connected.”

  “But Jaxon is wealthy too.” She didn’t have the exact number of his net worth, but she knew he was a millionaire.

  “The Merriweather family is old money. I’m sure they’ll tell you their ancestors came over on the Mayflower. Compared to them, Jaxon is destitute.”

  If Jaxon was destitute, what did that make her? “When is the motion hearing?”

  “Since they filed it as an emergency, the hearing is today at one. Emergency motions don’t require the usual seven-day notice or have any filing requirements. Do you have access in your apartment to a legal database? I need you to do research on case law for the motion.”

  She nodded and poured the coffee into two mugs and handed one to Nick. The whole scene felt oddly domestic. Comfortable. “I have a subscription through the law school.”

  “Great. I’ll forward you the motion and you can draft the response. Have it to me by eleven and I’ll get one of my paralegals to file it. I’ll pick you up at noon to bring you to the courthouse. And Kate?” He took a swig of the coffee and grimaced.

  So sue her. She didn’t make coffee any better than the firm did.

  “Yes, Nick?”

  He smiled. “Today is all yours. You’re going to argue the motion before the judge.”

  Chapter Three

  WEARING HER BLACK suit, Kate rode the elevator to the fourth floor along with Jaxon, Nick, and two prostitutes dressed in multicolored spandex and five-inch heels. Likely at court to fight a solicitation charge, the women didn’t appear to have a care in the world. They spent the entire ride talking trash about a girl named Vera who probably wouldn’t show for court.

  Meanwhile, standing in an enclosed space with both of the men in her life, Kate couldn’t stop shaking. The pill she’d taken before leaving for court hadn’t calmed her enough to handle the two alpha men she wanted but couldn’t have. Besides, with all the secrets she was keeping from them, an entire bottle wouldn’t help.

  Jaxon’s gaze didn’t rest on her for more than a second before it jumped to Nick. And when he did look at her, it was with nothing more than the familiarity of a client for his attorney. No one would possibly guess he’d climaxed inside of her last night.

  As much as it had hurt, she didn’t blame him for walking out on her. The man just lost his wife and was under the suspicion of murder. She only wished he would’ve walked out on her before she gave him a piece of her heart. Now nothing could ever erase the feel of his mouth on her skin, the taste of his come as it slid down her throat, or the stretching sensation when he’d thrust inside her.

  But judging by his current behavior, last night meant less than nothing to him.

  The elevator stopped on the second floor, and the prostitutes departed, leaving her alone with Jaxon and Nick. She quashed the fleeting fantasy of the three of them getting stuck in the elevator and making good use of the time and instead took a deep breath to ready herself for presenting their opposition to Alyssa’s parents’ motion.

  Nick raised a brow at her, and she gave him a little smile to display her confidence. He’d probably noticed her trembling and thought she was nervous for court. Better he believe that than the real reason she couldn’t stop shaking.

  When they reached the fourth floor, they got off the elevator and headed toward the courtrooms. The heels of her shoes clicked on the tiled floor as they made their way down the abnormally crowded hallway.

  Someone had alerted the paparazzi. Several of them milled outside Judge Cross’s courtroom.

  Why hadn’t they anticipated this? They could’ve bypassed the journalists if they’d come through the back entrance where they brought the criminal defendants in from the holding cells.

  Terror clogged her throat. She tried to breathe through her nose and exhale through her mouth like Nick had taught her, but it didn’t help this time.

  Why was it she had no problem speaking in the courtroom, but the moment she saw the media, she froze like an animal in the middle of the road?

  Nick caught her terror but, again, misunderstood the reason. “You worry too much. It’ll be fine.”

  One of the local television news reporters spotted Jaxon and moved toward them, alerting the other members of the press to his arrival. Swarming like bees, the journalists buzzed around them, nudging each other and shouting questions.

  “Are the Merriweathers contesting their daughter’s will?”

  “Are you the sole heir to your wife’s estate?”

  “Is it true Deveroux Ventur
e Capitalists is bankrupt?”

  “Mr. Deveroux has no comment,” Nick responded calmly.

  Her chest constricted, and the floor tipped below her feet. She pressed her lips together, fighting against the darkness threatening to overtake her.

  Jaxon’s hand slid under her hair to gently squeeze the back of her neck. As if they were protected by a giant bubble, the world shrank to her and Jaxon, all the noise and chaos disappearing. Just like that, air inflated her lungs.

  The heat in his eyes scalded her.

  He hadn’t forgotten last night.

  Two security guards cleared a path for the three of them to escape the mayhem, and Jaxon dropped his hand from her neck. Following right behind them, she entered the packed courtroom. Halfway down the aisle, a high-heeled foot hooked her ankle, and Kate stumbled.

  The owner of the foot hopped up from her seat. “I’m so sorry about that. I was trying to catch up with the two men who came in before you.” Recognition registered in reporter Rachel Dawson’s eyes. “You’re part of Jaxon Deveroux’s defense team, aren’t you?” She smiled and leaned in with her hand cupped around her mouth as if they were two friends sharing secrets. “What’s it like to defend a wife beater?”

  “What’s it like to be a bottom-dwelling scavenger?” Kate asked sweetly. Leaving a gaping Rachel behind, she strode down the aisle of the courtroom and through the swinging doors that separated the attorneys’ space from the peanut gallery.

  Typically lawyers and their clients filled the rows, but today the media invaded every inch of free space. Since cameras and recorders weren’t permitted inside the courthouse, the reporters would have to rely on good old-fashioned paper and pen.

  She joined Nick and Jaxon at the long table, sitting to the right of her boss. “Do the media have a right to be here?”

  He nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. The judge could ban them, but she won’t. With elections around the corner, she’s going to enjoy the free publicity.” Nick poured himself a cup of water.

  “Please rise for the Honorable Judge Cross,” announced the young female court clerk. “The estate of Alyssa Deveroux, Case Number 14-003044.”

  Not a hair was out of place on Judge Mary Cross’s auburn head. She clearly had been made aware of the media’s presence in her courtroom. “Are both parties present?”