by Linda Warren
“We’ll be out of your way in a sec,” Blake told her.
“Elsa and I will be in the dining room,” Greta said as she and the maid loaded salads onto a tray. “So talk all you want.”
When they left, Blake pleaded, “Try to understand.”
“All I understand is that you let me walk in there without any warning,” she said angrily. “In the old days you’d never have done that to me.”
“Blair, it was a business meeting—an important business meeting. And frankly, we didn’t know how to tell you. You have such a short fuse these days.”
“Now it’s my fault,” she choked out, taking a long breath. “I hadn’t even realized it, but I came here tonight hoping Dad was going to say, ‘Great job, Blair. I’m proud of you.’ Instead, he invites Lucas to dinner. That’s like a slap in my face.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t intended that way,” Lucas said from the doorway. He knew he was taking his life in his hands, but somehow he had to make this right.
Blair quickly turned around, unable to look at Lucas. She didn’t want to talk to him—not now, not ever.
“Mr. Culver, I don’t think this—”
Lucas stopped him. “It’s all right, Blake. I just want to explain.” Lucas motioned for Blake to leave the room.
Blake hesitated.
Blair couldn’t see him, but she knew from Blake’s silence that he was deciding whether or not to leave. Don’t you dare, she was thinking, but the sound of his receding footsteps told her that hope was in vain.
“I’m sorry if my presence upsets you,” Lucas started, wishing he could ease her hurt, which surprised him since this was business and he shouldn’t care about her feelings. But he did.
Blair counted to ten and turned around again, staring down at her hands instead of at Lucas. “I find that hard to believe,” she said sarcastically.
Lucas noticed she wasn’t looking at him and realized he had some apologizing to do. He’d embarrassed her in her office today, and it was clearly still on her mind.
“Well, I am,” he told her. “And I’m also sorry for not knocking on your door today. As you said, common courtesy dictates that I should have.”
Common courtesy and Lucas Culver. The thought made her want to laugh. Courtesy had nothing to do with Lucas. He’d been through so many women he should be in The Guinness Book of Records. She frowned; why was she thinking that? This wasn’t about Lucas and his women; it had to do with respect and dignity, and everyone in her family was conspiring to deprive her of those—even Lucas, with whom she had no personal relationship. But his voice sounded sincere and she was so tired after this horrendous day and she just wanted to go home.
Slowly she raised her eyes. Lucas could see that the storm in their blue depths had calmed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked point-blank.
“Your father invited me.”
“Why?”
“He’s offered me a position in his firm and he wanted me to meet his associates.”
“What?” She blinked in confusion. “Let me get this straight. I beat you in court so my father offers you a job.”
“The offer didn’t have anything to do with the trial.”
“Really?” She raised a dark eyebrow. “I have a habit of forgetting that my life is very unimportant to my father. If you mentioned the trial to him, I know exactly what he said. Any A.D.A. could have won that case. Raye was guilty. Enough said.”
Lucas suspected that Blair had probably been striving all her life for Sam Logan’s approval, and today she thought she’d finally achieved it. Now he’d turned it upside down for her. God, he shouldn’t have come. He should be in Jennifer’s apartment, enjoying something a whole lot better than this hollow feeling.
He told Jennifer he had an unexpected business meeting. She’d been annoyed at first, but he’d promised to make it up to her. If he was completely honest with himself, though, he’d have to admit that Blair was the main reason he was here tonight. He was curious about Sam’s offer, but seeing Blair somewhere other than the courtroom was the big selling point. Now he’d hurt her, and that was the last thing he’d wanted to do. He had to resolve this.
“It doesn’t matter what your father said or didn’t say,” he told her. “You don’t need his approval.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Blair muttered, and bit down on her lip to keep more words from tumbling out.
“I know what it’s like to seek approval from someone you love. I used to do everything I could to gain my brother’s approval. Then I grew up and realized it was always there. I just chose not to see that.”
“You don’t know anything about my relationship with my father,” she said tersely. “Any more than you know about me.”
“No, I don’t,” Lucas conceded. “And I regret my decision to come here tonight.”
“Then why did you?”
“Curiosity got the best of me.”
She frowned. “Curiosity?”
Curiosity about you, Blair.
“Yeah.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I wanted to find out why Sam was offering me a job. It’s not like I campaigned for it.”
“Did you find out?” she asked quietly.
“No, I’m still in the dark.”
Besides his desire to see Blair in a different context, he had decided to accept Sam’s invitation because he couldn’t stand not knowing. He had to find out the truth, but he wasn’t any closer to that than before he got here. Derek, Frank and Theo were all enthusiastically backing Sam in saying that they needed new blood. Even Calvin, the accountant, had shown him some impressive figures and encouraged him to join the Logan team. They were feeding him a line of crap, and Lucas knew crap when he heard it. But why were they pursuing him? He still hadn’t figured that out, and now he didn’t really care.
Blair took a step toward him. “I’ll tell you why, Lucas,” she said cryptically. “It’s because you’re a cutthroat attorney like he is. You don’t care about the law or about human consequences—just the big bucks. That’s what my father admires. So congratulations, you’re in the big leagues.”
He was trying to be conciliatory, to apologize for a bad error in judgment, but her words angered him, and suddenly he’d had enough. As she started to walk past him, he grabbed her arm. “Someday, Blair, someday I’m—”
He stopped as he saw fear flash into her eyes. Was she afraid of him? That possibility took him aback. They stared at each other for a long, silent moment, and then Lucas saw the pulse in her neck beating erratically. Other feelings started to surface and all he could think about was touching it with his lips and…
Blair tried to say something, but for once, words stuck in her throat. His hand was still closed around her arm, his fingers warm and firm. She felt the heat as it rushed up her arm to various parts of her body, and she was experiencing all sorts of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. Emotions she’d only read about—and all because of a touch. How many other women had felt this way about Lucas? she wondered. She was well aware that it should be irrelevant to her, and yet the thought infuriated her.
She looked at his hand. “Let go of my arm,” she said coolly.
He saw the desperation in her eyes but didn’t relent. “I don’t think so,” he said just as coolly. “I’m not through. I’m tired of justifying my career to you—a career that I’m good at—and I’m also tired of having my apologies thrown back in my face.”
Blair didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She was too consumed with the new reactions that were tripping through her body.
When she remained silent, Lucas went on, “I’m not sure why your father invited me tonight. In hindsight, I see that I shouldn’t have accepted, but I’m sure he thought you were mature enough to handle it.”
Mature enough! The words jarred her already shaky composure and she felt like screaming. She was mature enough to handle the sexual banter between Lucas and her earlier that day. She was mature enough to handle
Hector Raye’s threat on her life. She was mature enough to handle Lucas in her home. Or was she? No, she wasn’t that mature, answered a tiny voice inside her head.
Her head started to throb, and she touched her forehead to still the pain. She knew she was acting irrational, and she also knew she had to get away from him to sort through her emotions, regain her sanity.
Blair jerked her arm free, eyes blazing. “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty and I really don’t care why you’re here or why my father invited you, because I’m leaving.”
Lucas stepped in front of her. The woman just didn’t know when to quit and she certainly didn’t know how to accept an apology. “You don’t have to leave. I’m going.” He turned toward the door. “Tell your father thanks but no thanks for the job offer. Never mind, I’ll tell him on my way out.”
At the door, he looked back at her. She was rubbing her arm where he’d held her. Had he hurt her? God, she made him crazy and he was acting so out of character. The sooner he distanced himself from the Logan family, the better off he’d be.
“Are you all right?” he couldn’t help asking.
The gentleness in his voice made her answer more abruptly than she’d intended. “I don’t need your concern.”
Instant anger surged through him, and just as quickly it cooled. He was beginning to see that Blair had a spontaneous defense mechanism—her sharp tongue. It was just as Roger had said; she never let anyone get close to her. Well, she didn’t have to worry about him.
His dark eyes swept over her. “Don’t worry, Blair, you won’t get it again.” Without glancing back, he disappeared through the door.
Blair stood there trembling from so many emotions—new, alien emotions that she’d denied for a very long time. How did she deal with all of this? she asked herself as she unconsciously rubbed her arm. She didn’t know. She only knew that she was hurt and confused…and afraid. Not of Lucas but the feelings he engendered, feelings she didn’t want to experience.
Stay out of my life, Lucas Culver.
Please stay out of my life.
EVAN HOLT SAT at his desk studying the latest putter he’d purchased.
Carl Wright, his chief prosecutor, entered his office, followed by two detectives.
“Anything new?” Evan asked the lead detective, Mike Wilson.
“Logan was over at Lucas Culver’s office this afternoon and Culver had dinner with him tonight,” Mike answered.
“Dammit.” Evan slammed the putter onto his desk and got to his feet.
“What do you think that means?” Carl asked.
“He’s trying to recruit Culver—that’s the only explanation.”
“Why? He’s got his own team.”
“Sam knows we can handle Johnson, Mann and Barker, but Culver—that’s a whole different situation.”
“What do you mean?”
“Culver has a way of controlling a jury, and this case is all going to come down to the jury.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Mike said, placing a folder on his desk. “The DNA is a perfect match.”
Evan quickly leafed through the papers and a smile spread across his face. “This will be the nail in Sam Logan’s coffin, and even Culver won’t be able to save him. Logan should’ve tied up these loose ends sixteen years ago. Now I’m going to.”
“What about Blair?” Carl asked.
Evan closed the folder and sat in his chair. “Are you ready to make the arrest?” he asked Mike.
“As soon as you give me the word.”
“I want the element of surprise, so do it first thing in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” Mike said, and left the room with the other detective.
“What about Blair?” Carl asked again.
“I hope Sam has the good sense to tell her before this breaks. If he doesn’t, I’ll let her know before it hits the press.”
“I don’t like hurting Blair,” Carl admitted.
“Well, you’d better put those feelings where I won’t see them,” Evan told him. “This case will be the hardest you’ve ever tried and you can’t let emotions sway your thinking.”
“I won’t, Evan. You know that.”
“I do, but having Blair in our office makes it difficult. She’ll have to choose between her job and her family. I guess we’ll see whether she hates defense attorneys as much as she claims.”
CHAPTER FOUR
BLAIR HAD a restless night. So many things were crowding in on her that she couldn’t sleep. She’d apologized to everyone at the party and said she had a headache and quickly left. She could see that her father was upset with her and her mother was worried. Blake begged her to stay, but she couldn’t. She had to leave.
Raye’s threat had her running scared, and her fear was making her act irrational. She’d been rude to her family and Lucas, and she hoped an apology would suffice. If that wasn’t good enough for Lucas, she didn’t really care.
Stop it, she said to herself. Stop blaming Lucas for everything. Her father had invited him, so he had a right to be there. And she’d told her father several times that she didn’t want to work in his firm. She was happy keeping criminals behind bars. So what was the problem? Lucas, she muttered aloud. He had such an odd effect on her and she wanted—
“What? What?” she shouted into the darkness. When she didn’t get an answer, she grabbed her pillow and headed into the living room to curl up on the sofa. What did she want from Lucas? He was always so pleasant, and that irritated her. He was always smiling, and that irritated her, too. He was very good-looking and that irritated the hell out of her. No man had any business being that handsome and charming. Was that it? Was she attracted to Lucas?
No! She sat up and tried to dismiss the possibility, but she couldn’t. Maybe she was attracted to Lucas—and maybe that was why she was always pouncing on him. Maybe that was why he made her so angry. No. She shook her head vehemently. It couldn’t be.
She lay down and tried to come to grips with her contradictory reactions. She didn’t know how to do that, but she owed Lucas an apology for her behavior—of that she was sure. He’d been nothing but pleasant, and she had literally come unglued. That wasn’t Lucas’s fault; that was hers.
All these years, she’d been trying to bridge the gap between her father and her brother—not understanding that there was also a gap between her father and her. That had become clear tonight when she’d reacted so violently to Lucas’s presence. He was right; she had been waiting for Sam Logan’s approval.
She groaned into her pillow, thinking this was a little too much soul-searching. Life was becoming too complicated, too fast, and all she wanted to do was sleep.
She heard a noise outside the living room window and immediately sat up, her heart in her throat. Then she relaxed as she realized it was only the wind. She lived in a gated apartment complex, so there was no way anyone could get in without her knowing it. Still, she felt uneasy. She went into the bedroom and got her purse. Pulling out the small pistol, she carried it into the living room. She placed it on the end table within easy reach. If anyone had told her years ago that a gun would make her feel more secure, she would have laughed. But the gun gave her the extra bit of reassurance she needed to face her fears. No one was going to attack her again.
As she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were of Lucas. Tomorrow she’d apologize for her rudeness. Knowing Lucas, he’d accept and they’d go back to battling it out in court. Polite adversaries—that was all they could ever be.
LUCAS WOKE UP with a frown on his face—and the urge to strangle Blair Logan still on his mind. He was finished with apologizing to that woman and he was certainly finished with making excuses to her. As far as he was concerned, Blair could go to hell.
Running both hands over his face, he stumbled out of bed in his black briefs and headed for the kitchen. The strong smell of coffee pulled him forward. Thank God he used a cleaning service. He paid the woman extra to make his coffee. The coffeepot had a timer and coffee was r
eady at precisely six o’clock every morning. He wasn’t human until he’d had his first cup.
He poured a mug full, letting the aroma tantalize his nostrils. He picked up the mug and returned to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, he sipped at the black magic. Oh, yeah… After a moment, he tipped his head back, feeling his brain slowly come alive. Now he could face the day.
But the day wasn’t on his mind; last night was—and Blair. After leaving her family’s home, he’d driven around for a while, then planned to see Jennifer. He had thought he’d salvage something of the night. But he kept seeing Blair’s wounded face. He had hurt her, unintentionally, but still he’d been the cause of her pain. He didn’t like that. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and he had no desire to be with Jennifer or any other woman. So he drove home, determined to put the evening and Blair behind him.
But his first thoughts this morning were of her. “Damn you, Blair Logan, stay out of my head,” he shouted to the room. He got up, coffee in hand, and walked into the bathroom. He set the mug on the vanity as he stared at himself in the mirror. His dark hair was tousled across his forehead and he had a growth of dark beard. He drew one hand over the stubble and did a double take. He raked his hair back to look more closely at his temples. Gray hair! His hair was turning gray. Damn, when did that happen?
The absurdity of it hit him and he started to laugh. What the hell did he care if he had gray hair? But he was getting older, and he wasn’t any closer to settling down than he’d been ten years ago. That was what bothered him. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone.
He left the bathroom, opened a drawer and pulled out a tank top and jogging shorts. He slipped into them, then hurried toward the front door. He ran two miles every morning, and he was going to run until all his frustrations were gone. Then he’d call Jennifer, apologize again, and tonight he’d deal with the rest of his frustrations. Assuming Jennifer was willing to help, of course… That was his plan, anyway.
And Blair? Well, Blair had her own problems and he didn’t want any part of them. It would probably take a team of psychiatrists to sort out her issues with her father. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Hell, that was one thing he and Blair had in common—he had issues with his father, too. They actually had something to talk about. He shook his head, ridding himself of that idea. He wasn’t talking to Blair. He wasn’t doing anything with Blair except forget he’d ever met her.
