Читать книгу Hard To Handle - Jamie Denton - Страница 9

“DISBARRED! Are you sure?”

Mikki’s stomach bottomed out at Nolan’s slow, confirming nod. Surely they couldn’t still be legally married.

“Why? But how? After all this time?”

They just couldn’t still be married.

He nodded again. “I’m sure, Mikki.”

“No,” she said firmly, as if the small word had the power to erase the truth from his eyes. “It isn’t possible.”

“If it’s any consolation,” he said, “I was just as floored by the news.”

“Floored” hardly came close. Dumbstruck, blindsided and bewildered were more apt descriptions for the shock of the blow he’d just delivered. She felt as if she’d been sucker-punched. By a gorilla.

“Some consolation,” she complained. She almost wished she hadn’t pushed him away. An overload of sexual excitement, even with the wrong man, was better than hearing the news he’d just given her. “Why am I only finding out about this now?”

“Probably because the lawyer you hired didn’t bother to mention he’d been disbarred about a week before you retained him.” His voice was the epitome of calm.

She wanted to scream.

“But…how? Why?”

“The California State Bar Association takes issue with lawyers who play fast and loose with client trust accounts.”

He leaned toward her again. His expression filled with a familiar challenge. “If you had taken my name like I wanted you to, the court clerk’s office would’ve notified us when you filed a name change that your attorney was no longer legally permitted to practice. All this would have been avoided.”

A lightening-hot flash of anger cut through the hazy fog in her brain. He was blaming her?

“So this is all my fault, is that it?” she fired at him, her voice rising. Okay, so maybe he did have a point, but she hadn’t exactly been lucid at the time, either. If she’d been capable of doing so, she would’ve gone to Mexico herself and they wouldn’t be having this insane conversation.

Nolan straightened and rammed his fingers through his wind-tossed hair for the second time. His dark brown eyes glowed with irritation.

Some things never changed, she thought again.

“I didn’t say that,” he said tightly.

No, he hadn’t. She’d jumped to that conclusion all on her own. She understood her irrational reaction stemmed from the emotional bomb he’d just blasted her with, but that didn’t give her the right to be so bitchy toward him. She’d been the one to retain a disbarred attorney, not him.

She let out a slow breath that provided zero calming effect and looked up at Nolan. Her husband?

Some things really never changed.

Oh, God.

“I’m sorry.” She pressed her fingertips to her temple, hoping to relieve the pounding of what promised to be one nasty tension headache. “It’s the shock.”

He accepted her apology with a brusque nod.

Why was this happening? Suffering through the humiliation of another divorce proceeding, even if it were nothing more than a necessary technicality to legally end their marriage, wasn’t something she relished facing. Admitting failure once should be enough punishment for anyone. Even her.

“How did you find out that we’re still…” She couldn’t bring herself to utter the word she’d evicted from her vocabulary the night she’d told him to leave. Right along with love, forever and all that happily-ever-after bullshit. Especially when she should’ve known better than to believe in any of it.

“Married.” He completed the sentence for her, his tone wry. “Say it, Mikki. You won’t choke on it.”

“Wanna bet?”

A fresh wave of couples flooded onto the deck, drowning out the sound of his warm chuckle. After a quick glance over his shoulder, he narrowed the small space that separated them. Rather than reveling in the illusion of privacy, she felt as exposed and raw as the night she’d sent him packing.

“Well?” she prompted, tucking away yet one more unpleasant memory. Her specialty. “Why are we only learning about this now?”

He let out a sigh. “I found out during a routine background check.” He kept his voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard by the growing crowd. “It’s firm policy for all partnership candidates under consideration.”

Nolan? A partner? A stuffed shirt more interested in the bottom line than the complexities of the law? His last name might be Baylor, but her soon-to-be-again former husband hadn’t ever been the least bit conservative. Although he easily had the arrogance market cornered, she thought derisively.

“You’re joking, right?”

He frowned, his expression once again framed in irritation. “Is that really so hard for you to believe?”

She folded her arms. “Actually, yes,” she said uncharitably.

His lips thinned.

Guilt immediately pricked her conscience and she let out a long sigh. Why did they always bring out the worst in each other? Couldn’t they, just once, have a civilized conversation without going for the short hairs? Better yet, why couldn’t she at least pretend to behave like a logical, rational adult around him?

Because, she thought, when it came to Nolan, there was nothing reasonable about the way he made her feel. Around him, every emotion, each response, became magnified with brilliant intensity. Whether five or fifty years had passed, she doubted that aspect of her life would ever change.

The throbbing in her temple increased, the tempo sliding right into a double-time staccato of pain. “I’m sorry.” She apologized—again. “It’s just that you never were all that…”

“Serious?” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His frown remained in place. “So you’ve said before.”

She inwardly winced at the reminder, but could he really blame her? They’d once had their electricity shut off for a weekend because they’d come up short that month and hadn’t been able to cover all of their expenses. Nolan hadn’t been all that concerned, whereas she’d freaked. Her need for security and stability clashed with his go-with-the-flow methodology. She planned. Nolan never thought beyond the moment. A miserable combination that had been destined for disaster.

“People do change, Mikki,” he said quietly.

Not in her experience. Her caseload alone supported her belief. Every abused, neglected or abandoned kid she represented was more than enough of a reminder that very few people possessed the strength to turn their lives around and keep them that way. The best she ever hoped for was a safe place for her juvenile clients, away from their abusers or their addicted parents who cared more about their next high than their own children. If she could convince the family court judges and social workers to place the child in the home of someone who at least provided an illusion of caring, then she considered the case a victory.

Oh yeah, people changed, all right…just not anyone she knew.

So what if Nolan had miraculously matured in the years they’d been apart? They would still be all wrong for each other. And she’d do well to remember that, too, and not the way he’d kissed her, as if he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him.

Exhibiting no willpower whatsoever, her gaze zeroed in on his mouth. Just because she’d responded to that kiss didn’t mean a damned thing. Well, she amended, except for a poorly timed reminder that she hadn’t had noteworthy sex in a while.

Now there was an area where she and Nolan had been incredibly compatible. And then some. The passion between them had always burned hot. Definite chemistry, the combustible kind. Despite the passage of time, from one little ol’ kiss, she didn’t doubt for a second that making love to him would be nothing short of pure perfection.

And damned satisfying, she silently added.

“Why are you here, Nolan?” she asked bluntly, anxious to tamp down the treacherous trail of her thoughts. “Surely you didn’t come all the way to San Francisco just to tell me our divorce isn’t legal when a letter from your attorney would have been sufficient.”

“I’ve moved back.”

Dread settled in her stomach like a lead weight. “Back?” she exclaimed, uncertain which had her more stunned—the news they were still married or that he’d returned to San Francisco.

To her dismay he nodded. “To San Francisco.”

“Why?” she blurted. Why here of all places?

“I transferred from the L.A. office.”

“California’s a big state, Nolan. Couldn’t you have transferred to San Diego or Ventura?” she asked desperately.

“I’m needed here.”

Well she sure as hell didn’t need, or want, him here. She’d worked too hard to get over him. Odds were, since they both practiced family law, they were bound to eventually stumble over each other in the courtroom, either opposing each other or perhaps even on the same side, but that made little difference. Her reaction to that stupid kiss was more than enough reason for her to want to keep her distance.

It doesn’t matter.

The reminder fell sadly short and she knew it. It didn’t matter that she was supposed to have stopped loving Nolan ages ago. Where he lived, worked, his interests, none of it was supposed to make a bit of difference to her.

It doesn’t matter.

He could move into one of the first-floor units of her building for all she cared. She wasn’t supposed to give a damn.

It doesn’t matter.

Only, it did matter. Dammit, he mattered—a helluva lot more than he should.

While she struggled to digest the fact that Nolan had actually returned to San Francisco for good, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the small white-gold key she’d seen him with earlier. She gave serious consideration to taking a flying leap over the railing and diving headfirst into the frigid ocean below. With the way her luck had turned tonight, risking her neck had to be the lesser evil.

A scoundrel’s grin curved his lips as he reached for the locket around her neck.

She swatted his hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like?”

As though he was about to turn her life even more upside down. She attempted to take a step back, but the stucco wall behind her prevented a clean getaway. Now would be an excellent time to take that hike over the planter.

Undeterred, his long fingers brushed against the slope of her breast as he lifted the small trinket. His smile turned downright devilish. “What do you say we test our luck?”

“Not even fate can have that much of a sense of humor.” No way in hell was she going on a date with Nolan. She’d drink antifreeze first.

Her breath caught. The soft click of the key unlocking the fourteen-karat miniature suitcase sealed her fate.

She should’ve taken her chances with the Pacific.

His reckless, heart-stopping grin deepened. “What are the odds?” He laughed, as if he’d known all along he held the key to her locket.

“They were supposed to be one in a few hundred.” It didn’t take a degree in rocket science for her to realize Nolan was the significant contributor Maureen had mentioned, or that she’d been sold out by one of her closest friends, even if it was for a good cause.

He gave a careless shrug, then shook the tiny numbered ticket inside the equally small suitcase loose. “Lucky me, then.”

And unlucky her.

“Shall we claim our prize?”

“Not so fast.” She snagged the ticket from his fingers. “I’ll be claiming this prize. On my own.” She gave him the hard stare she’d perfected. A lesser man would’ve bolted for the nearest exit. Nolan remained unfazed. “After the shock you’ve given me tonight, I’ve earned it.”

Desperate for distance, she shouldered past him. She wanted time to think, to assimilate and analyze all that had occurred tonight. Needed time to develop a foolproof game plan.

She needed a drink. Now.

Nolan’s big warm hands settled over her shoulders, halting her escape. “You deserve a lot more than some cheesy raffle prize.” He dragged his thumbs rhythmically over her bare shoulders. “Much more than I was capable of—then.”

She wasn’t going anywhere near that comment. Not when she had gooseflesh puckering all over her skin from his touch and her nipples had hardened into tight peaks.

“Let me go, Nolan.”

He didn’t. “I can make it up to you, Mikki.”

His warm breath fanned her ear. The heat of his body warmed her back. She closed her eyes. If only…

“If you’ll let me,” he whispered.

Her eyes flew open. Let him break her heart again? Not a chance. No way would she become one of those pathetic women who continue to make the same mistakes with the same wrong guy, over and over. They were over.