Defensive Heart: The Donnolleys, Book 2

by Dorothy F. Shaw

  “As you wish, Mr. Donnelly. Anything else I can—”

  Jimmy disconnected the call before the receptionist finished speaking. Not that he wanted to be rude, but he needed to mentally prep for his next move. Pacing the entryway hall, he wiped his sweating palm on his thigh and dialed her cell.

  The phone rang in his ear and nervous tension raced through his blood. What the hell was his problem? What was with this sudden case of the nerves? Blowing out a breath, he realized exactly what his problem was. He wasn’t worried she wouldn’t answer because she was busy; more that Sonja would answer only to hang up on him as soon as she heard his voice, that’s what.

  Third ring. Fourth. Voicemail. And then…her voice.

  Hello, you’ve reached the voicemail of Sonja Martin, with the law office of Bergman and Bergman. Today is Wednesday, September nineteenth, and I will be at the Midtown Community Court until five p.m. Please leave a message, and I’ll return your call as soon as I’m available. Thank you.

  Jimmy disconnected the call before the beep. “Bingo.”

  He glanced at the clock. Two thirty. Plenty of time to grab a shower and head to the courthouse. The prospect of seeing her again set his stomach into a fit of knots. Damn, he never got nervous like this over women. Get a friggin’ grip, dude. He felt like a teenager for fuck’s sake.

  Within an hour, Jimmy stood outside the six-story nineteenth-century building. The place looked carved out of the Renaissance era, complete with tan columns framing the second- and third-story windows and a limestone face on the main level. Running his fingers through his hair to ensure it still held its messy fell-out-of-bed quality, he took a deep breath and walked through the main entrance. How hard could it be to find one very tall, very beautiful blonde attorney?

  After emptying his pockets and walking through the necessary metal detectors and security screenings, Jimmy found it wasn’t hard at all. The court had one, and only one courtroom. Score. He stepped to the entryway closing off the courtroom from the main hall and listened. Hearing faint voices, he gently opened the door and peered inside.

  There she was, standing at the front, addressing the judge. Jimmy sucked in a breath at the sight of the back of her blonde head and moved quietly inside. Careful to not let the door slam behind him, he stood still, bracing it with his hands until it slid closed. Then he moved to his right and took a seat in the back row.

  Sonja’s spoke with a calculated, direct tone to the judge and her voice spread over Jimmy’s skin like a warm blanket. She sounded different than her voicemail message and also from how he remembered when they met, but then again, they had been in a loud bar. Plus, he’d been a tad intoxicated.

  Jimmy grinned, recalling what a bitch she’d been when they first met. She had the same air about her now—stunning, with a hint of the attitude he found so intriguing.

  Fire and ice.

  She wore a black pencil skirt, fitted to her knees, and a black blazer with a pale peach blouse beneath it. Her hair was pulled tight in the same twist on the back of her head she’d had in Vegas. And stiletto heels.

  Jimmy ran his palm over his chin, smoothing his goatee and smothering a groan. The heels were his downfall. Hell, who was he kidding? Everything about this woman was his downfall, but looking at her long, shapely legs perched on five-inch, black, spiked heels made his blood boil at temperatures that couldn’t possibly be safe.

  He stretched his legs out in front of him and watched Sonja-the-lawyer argue the next three cases. The first was a possession of marijuana charge, the next harassment and the final, prostitution. She debated her points with the judge on every case and got what she wanted for each client. Astounding.

  The woman had talent, and you couldn’t say it was her looks, because the judge didn’t seem to notice. The guy barely looked up from the stack of papers in front of him. She had a presence about her, an air of dominance, and strangely, a softness that commanded attention. Considering these were small-time cases, she argued with a skill rivaling his father’s. She’d be a force to be reckoned with on something bigger. Did she handle anything bigger? Jimmy wanted to know so much more about her. He wanted to know everything about her…if he could. If she’d let him.

  “Court adjourned.”

  Jimmy looked up at the judge in time to see him slam the gavel on its little wooden disk with a resounding crack and rise from his seat. The many onlookers stood and started milling out of the room, some deep in conversation, a few already making calls on their cell phones. Jimmy stayed where he was, catching glimpses of her through the people crossing in front of him in the other rows of seats and the center walkway.

  Sonja slung the strap of a large black leather soft-sided case over her shoulder and turned to exit down the center aisle, her focus on the screen of her cell phone. When she got next to him, Jimmy clasped her upper arm.

  She stopped, glanced down at her arm and then up at him. Her baby blues widened in recognition. “Well, Mr. Donnelly. I have to say, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

  Jimmy stepped closer to her. The nervous tension was back and his mouth was dry. Chill. You got this. He had to play his cards right. She’d bolt the first chance she got, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. Tilting his head to the side, he took in her prominent cheekbones and her full lips before returning his gaze to her eyes. “Sure you did.”

  Sonja set her heavy leather bag on the bench. It was a good diversion tactic. She’d take any opportunity to catch her breath and gather her scattering thoughts. James Donnelly was in front of her, and as a result, every part of her body was on fire.

  What was it about this young guy that made her feel like she was standing too close to a fireplace? Yes, he was good looking. Really good looking. Yes, he had a nice body. Really nice body. But it wasn’t like she didn’t see attractive men on a regular basis in the City. She did. She saw them often and didn’t have this sort of reaction to them.

  Sonja pressed her palm to her forehead, looked at him and felt…annoyed.

  James had that devilish smile on his face, bringing his dimples front and center. The ones she couldn’t quite wipe from her memory. He was wrong. Sonja truly hadn’t thought she’d be seeing him again. Hoped, sure. But she wasn’t going to admit it to him. That information was between her and her showerhead. Sonja crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the bench next to her. “Presumptuous as ever.”

  “It’s nice to see you again too.”

  Keeping this exchange formal and professional was paramount. The last thing she wanted was to continue what’d started between them in Las Vegas weeks ago. “What are you doing here?”

  “I told you I wanted to see you again. So, here I am.” James put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Coffee or something, remember?”

  “That was four weeks ago.” She grabbed her bag and settled the strap on her shoulder. “I think we’re past that now.” Sonja turned to walk away and made it as far as the doors.

  He cupped her elbow, urged her backward a bit and pushed the door open for her. “Hey, now. You missed me. I get it.”

  She ignored the rush of heat from his touch, cut him a sideways glance and walked through the exit. James followed and then moved beside her and placed his hand on the small of her back. Sonja stepped to the side to evade his touch. He needed to stop touching her. She was already burning up—maybe she was having a hot flash? Pre-menopause? She could only hope, because the idea that it was his touch making her smolder had her even more agitated than she already was. She simply didn’t respond to any man like this. “I assure you, Mr. Donnelly, I most certainly did not miss you.”

  “Liar.” He bumped her shoulder with his and pressed the Down button for the elevator.

  Sonja groaned and shook her head. “I told you in Vegas. I’m too old for you. Don’t you have women closer to your age you can bother?”

  The elevator doors
opened and James cleared his throat. “As matter of fact, I do. But I’m thinking you’ll be more fun.” He held his hand out, motioning for her to step inside the empty car.

  She gasped and stepped in. The brushed steel doors closed and she pressed her lips together. Did he really just say that? Fine. He could be a smart ass all he wanted. It would make this all the easier. “Look, Mr. Donnelly. It’s obvious to me our little exchange in Las Vegas meant more to you than it did me. I’m flattered, really. But I think it’s best you go play with those other girls. This woman has no time for your fun.”

  The bell announcing the ground floor dinged. Perfect timing. Shifting her bag on her hip, she exited the elevator. Sonja didn’t look back this time and assumed he wasn’t following. Her retort had to have stung. Good. Damn.

  She didn’t care.

  Really, she didn’t. Crap. Did she?

  Sonja stepped on to the busy rush-hour-clogged sidewalk and fanned herself. The evening air was chilly, but it wasn’t doing a damn thing to cool her off. Setting her bag down, she removed her suit jacket.

  “Let me carry this for you.” Jimmy bent and picked up her briefcase. “I think we should have dinner tonight. You look hungry.”

  “Can’t you take a hint?”

  James wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest. Her breath gushed out when their bodies collided. Hard lean muscles pressed to her chest, stomach and hips. Good God, she was going to burn alive.

  “I can take hints just fine, Sonja-the-lawyer.” His lips were so close to hers, almost touching, but not quite.

  If she breathed too deep, they’d be kissing. Sonja froze. She couldn’t kiss him. Could not. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking every hint you’re passing me. You want me just as bad as I want you. I can practically feel it rolling off you in waves.”

  Sonja licked her lips and inhaled slowly. “I don’t…” Despite her frustration, her body softened in his embrace and traitorous nerve endings vibrated to attention. She cursed herself and dug her nails into his arms. “You can’t…”

  “You do. And I can.” He nipped her bottom lip before releasing her.

  Every inch of Sonja’s skin came alive, tingling from the contact, and her ability to think straight short-circuited. She let her breath out in a rush and gulped in another, seeking oxygen to fill her body in order to calm down. He stood before her, an intent look in his eyes; their gazes locked. What the hell am I going to do with him?

  “Let’s go get a burger. There’s a great place in the Village. You’ll love it.” He smiled.

  Say no, Sonja. Say no. “Fine. Dinner. But that’s it. And stop telling me what to do, dammit. I don’t know where you get off thinking you can order me around, Mr. Donnelly. I won’t tolerate it.”

  “Call me James.” He walked past her to the curb and hailed a cab.

  Sonja stepped next to him and smoothed the back of her hair. Arrogant jerk. Her heart raced. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip—she could still feel the little sting from his bite. His scent of clean soap with a hint of cologne lingered in her nose—her weakness. But then again James Donnelly seemed to personify her weakness.

  He opened the cab door.

  “Just dinner.” She took another deep breath and got inside the cab.

  Chapter Six

  Jimmy sat across from Sonja and watched while she tried for all it was worth to look proper eating a messy bacon double cheeseburger. She hadn’t wanted the layers of sloppy goodness and protested at every turn, but he’d ordered it anyway.

  The woman was uptight. Actually, she made uptight look like child’s play. Not that it deterred him. After all, he lived in New York City, for fuck’s sake. “Bitch” was a theme there among almost all women. The difference with Sonja was the fire burning in her eyes. It was a blaze she kept carefully contained and Jimmy wanted to set it free and watch it burn. “You got a little something there.” Leaning across the table, he swiped the drop of ketchup off her chin with his thumb and then sucked it between his lips.

  Sonja froze a moment before visibly swallowing her mouthful. “Thanks.” She wiped her lips with her napkin.

  He smiled and leaned back in his chair, tilting it back on two legs. “My pleasure.”

  “You’re staring.”

  “I know.”

  She widened her eyes. “Stop.”

  “No.” He let the chair fall forward. “Guess you’re going to have to get used to it. I like staring at you.”

  She rolled her eyes and took another bite of the burger.

  “So, do you always fight small cases at Midtown or do you handle anything bigger?”

  “Why? Do you need an attorney?”

  He laughed. “No. But if I do, I’m definitely calling you.”

  “I own the firm.” She sipped her soda. “I handle whatever I want.”

  “Nice. What’re you doing with those piddly cases then?”

  “Once a month I do pro bono service for the community.”

  “Why, Sonja-the-lawyer, that’s quite generous of you. Someone might think you have a heart.” He raised his brows.

  “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” She shook her head. “Tell me about your art.”

  “My tattoos or the art I create?”

  Sonja wiped her hands on her napkin. “Both I guess. Start with the art you create.”

  “Sure.” He picked up a french fry and dragged it through the ketchup. “I dabble in a lot of different styles, but most all of it has an industrial theme.”

  “You weld things. Sculptures and such?”

  “I’ve been known to wield a blow torch on occasion, yeah.” He popped the fry in his mouth and then licked his fingers. She watched him. Her gaze flicked from his mouth back to his eyes in the space of a second, but she’d watched just the same.

  “Tell me about the different styles.” She took the last bite of her burger.

  “I like to paint, so I usually construct various items, mount them to a canvas and paint around them. Sometimes I paint the items too.”

  “I see. Where do the ideas come from?”

  Jimmy leaned forward, crossing his arms in front of him on the table. “Different things really. The City’s a big muse. The lights, the sounds, the smells—it all plays a part. Sometimes it’s music and sometimes it’s people.”

  She sipped her soda. “The art in the bar in Vegas? Was it all yours or just some?”

  “Most everything in there was mine. What did you think of it?”

  “I don’t have an eye for art, but I found it interesting.” Sonja pushed her basket aside and wiped her hands on her perfectly folded napkin. “My tastes are probably too old-fashioned for you.”

  “I’m sure you think so. Come on.” Jimmy stood and held out his hand for her. “I’ll show you some. My studio’s right around the corner.”

  “Is that why you insisted on us coming here to eat?” She stood and reached for her bag, but Jimmy grabbed it before she could.

  “Not exactly. But now that you’re here, I’d love to show you.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the door, settling his palm on her lower back.

  Jimmy loved how petite Sonja felt beneath his touch, yet it was an illusion. She stood almost eye-to-eye with him. Jimmy’s palm itched to wrap around her side and pull her close, but he didn’t dare. He’d already pushed her to her limit outside the courthouse when he’d pulled her body close. She’d been so warm and soft against him, Jimmy thought he might spontaneously combust.

  And the smarter her mouth got, the faster his adrenaline pumped. It made him want to bend her over his knee and spank her bare ass while she spouted every sarcastic comment she could think of, until finally begging him to stop. Jimmy groaned at the vision the thought conjured.

  “Everything okay?”

  He stroked her lower back wi
th his thumb while they waited for the light to change at the crosswalk. “Yup. Everything’s perfect.”

  She looked over at him and drew in a breath. He focused on her full lips when she exhaled. A bolt of lust zinged down his spine. Jimmy wanted to taste those lips. The sexual tension was building between them. How he was going to keep his hands off her once they were alone in his studio, he didn’t know. They crossed the street and Sonja’s cell rang. Jimmy steered them to the inner side of the sidewalk.

  Sonja dug her phone out of her purse and put it to her ear. “Yes, Casey?” They continued walking, but her steps slowed. “What? No. You were supposed to be home thirty minutes ago. Where are you?”

  Jimmy turned to look at her when she stopped walking. He pulled her to the side and then turned his back, trying to give her some privacy—but he wasn’t going to walk away from her. She’d have to deal with it.

  “Are his parents home…? Casey Olivia Martin, I told you I did not want you going over that boy’s house when his parents aren’t there.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. She was visibly upset, her brows drawn together in frustration.

  “Get home now… No. No!” She shook her head and turned away from him. “I will ground you if your behind isn’t home in the next thirty minutes, and believe me I will be calling your father about this one. I’ve had enough of your defiance. Get home now.” Sonja pulled the phone from her ear. Her shoulders sank and her head fell forward.

  Jimmy cupped her elbow in his palm. “Hey, you okay?”

  Sonja pulled her arm away. “Yes. Perfectly fine.” She let out a breath and shoved the phone back in her purse before turning back toward him. Squaring her shoulders, she stood in a defensive stance, ready to take on the world if necessary. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to show me your studio but then you’ll have to excuse me.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and gazed over her face, down her neck and shoulders, and to her legs. “That call sounded pretty upsetting. Care to share?”