Читать книгу One Hot Weekend - Katherine Garbera - Страница 9

SOPHIA CLOSED HER EYES and for a minute was tempted to put her arms around Mitch. Dammit, she was over him. Way over him. She’d made her choice and she’d been happily living with it. Until now. Until she’d felt his strong arms around her once again. He wasn’t doing anything improper but she remembered every time he had.

Her stomach sank to her toes. She pumped up her internal background music. “Back in Black” was blaring inside her head louder than in a teenage metal-head’s room. She stepped away from him as soon as her feet were steady.

But not far enough. She doubted if Miami would be far enough to blunt the impact of seeing him in the flesh again. The Coronas had swirled to life memories of a different time and a different person. But she felt as though she’d successfully relegated that woman to the past until this moment.

Face-to-face with the one man she’d never really forgotten, she tried to blunt the sensations spreading throughout her body. As one of Mitch’s hands swept upward, lingering on that spot on the base of her neck, she realized he hadn’t forgotten her either.

AC/DC died an abrupt end inside her head.

Everything feminine in her sprang to attention and the sensual sounds of Stevie Ray Vaughan started playing in her mind. Her breasts felt full and heavy, her nipples tingled. His body heat shimmered between them. Damn, only an inch of space separated them. If she leaned forward she’d be pressed against the hard planes of his chest.

Each breath he took brushed across her face. He smelled of peppermint gum. The first time they’d kissed he’d been chewing peppermint. The taste had infused her mouth.

She recognized the signs of arousal in him. His pupils were dilated, his nostrils flared with his exhalation. While she appreciated the fact the awareness wasn’t all one-sided, they still had to try a case against each other. She had to be on her toes and functioning like the cool, calm Assistant D.A. she was. Not some hormone-driven woman.

When she’d been twenty-two and in the throes of her love affair with him she’d indulged her sensual side with no thought of the consequences. Now that she was in her thirties, she thought she’d banked those fires but everything about Mitch, from his dark hair to his cold gray eyes was stirring up the embers.

Shivering a little she stepped away. Mitch made her want to do something unpredictable like caress his face and kiss his full lips. Would he still taste the same? Taste him and find out, her traitorous body cried out.

But her mind had finally wakened and bellowed for her to get out of there. She’d been on her way to the bathroom for her pretrial ritual pep talk.

Focus on the job. Mitch was just like any other defense attorney, except he smelled better.

“Thanks for catching me,” she said, and walked toward the ladies’ bathroom. It was only twenty paces to the washroom. Counting the steps was part of her ritual.

She’d taken five of them when he moved. Her senses were still attuned to him. He was following her. Her first instinct was to walk faster and get away from him.

But she’d never been a coward. So instead she slowed her steps, letting her hips sway with each one. She knew he was watching her.

“Sophia?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. He’d noticed. His gaze was on her backside. She hid her smile. The girl still had it, she thought. She was glad to know she wasn’t alone in this ill-timed attraction. “Yes.”

“This isn’t finished.”

Immediately her internal victory turned to defeat. This was a new Mitch, a stranger with a familiar face. She wasn’t sure how to deal with him. “Is that a threat, Mitch?”

He closed the gap between them. He slid one hand down her back, cupping her butt and said, “Hell, no. That’s a promise, baby. And you know I always keep my promises.”

He turned toward the courtroom. She should let him go but she didn’t like him having the last word or touching her in that blatantly masculine way. She pivoted quickly, taking his hand and pulling him down the hall into a little alcove between the courtrooms.

He raised one eyebrow at her and she scowled at him. In her mind she fixed an image of herself as a sophisticated winning attorney. But it evaporated, leaving instead a picture of herself with an open bottle of Corona.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“That doesn’t sound like you. You always know what you want.”

“I learned not to share my desires with just anyone, baby.”

His words hurt. They were justified but still she hadn’t expected them to. “Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

“I don’t know, are you?”

She couldn’t answer him. She wanted to say yes. But she knew she wouldn’t be the woman she was today if she’d acted differently ten years ago. She regretted hurting him. But at the time she hadn’t seen any other way. Mitch had always made her feel things too intensely.

The false trail she’d sent him on had been designed to give her the upper hand and it had. Because Mitch had spent time researching her lead—giving her the real advantage in the tough race they’d both been running.

She did know that other than that one time she’d never lied to him. And she hadn’t lied since. Not even social white lies. She been burned by that incident, and moving on had left her a different woman. “I’m not sure.”

In his eyes she thought she saw a bit of the compassionate young man he’d once been. The man who’d always understood her drive to succeed and be the best. “I know.”

“Can we come to some kind of truce?” she said at last.

“No,” he replied, quickly.

She nodded. “I’m not asking you to give up your feelings of resentment toward me. I’m just asking for a temporary hold.”

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t have it all worked out yet. Can we talk about this in my office after we’re done in court?”

“Okay. We can share the beer I sent you.”

“Oh, did you send me something?” she asked, patting his ass and walking away from him.

“You know I did, baby,” he growled as he walked past her into the courtroom.

She watched him go, wondering what it was going to take to satisfy Mitch and the rekindled desire burning in the center of her body. She tried to tell herself he was just another attorney as she stepped into the courtroom but those words rang hollow. No other attorney had ever made her pulse race the way Mitch did.

MITCH LOOSENED HIS TIE and stepped out into the Orlando summer day. It was still hot as hell. He’d talked to the press on the steps of the courthouse. Jason’s movie career was hanging in the balance, and he and Marcus both agreed the less their client said the better.

Mitch rolled his shoulders and took his sunglasses from his pocket. Sophia had developed into a hell of a sophisticated woman since he’d last seen her. He wouldn’t have expected the girl who’d worn poet shirts and jeans to ever be comfortable in a designer suit.

He got in the Porsche and drove to the D.A.’s office. He knew he wanted his pound of flesh from the moment he’d stepped on the plane in L.A. His cold-blooded plan for revenge was going to take some careful handling. He’d conveniently forgotten a few important details about her.

The softer things. Despite the fact that she’d sent him on a false trail so she could get the only remaining internship with an important law firm, Sophia had always been very soft.

And when he’d held her in his arms earlier, he’d realized she still was. That softness didn’t matter. She was a grown woman and she’d started a very dangerous game with him a lifetime ago.

His phone rang. “Hollaran.”

“Mitch, buddy, I got a problem.”

Devlin Chase. He closed his eyes and groaned. Devlin was one of his oldest friends. They’d grown up together in the same middle-class Growing Pains-style family. Only Dev’s parents had gotten a divorce and Dev had never stopped rebelling.

“I’m in Florida. Can this be done over the phone?”

There was a loud sigh. “No.”

He heard sounds he hoped weren’t familiar. “Are you in jail?”

“Uh…yes.”

“What’s the charge?”

“Drug possession.”

Devlin had checked himself into detox about nine months ago when he’d met a pretty horse trainer who had a zero-tolerance policy for drug users. And Mitch had watched his friend struggle every day but they’d met for drinks a few weeks ago and Devlin had seemed okay. Better than okay, actually more like he finally had gotten his life on track. “I thought you’d cleaned up.”

“Shit happens, man.”

“Shit only happens to those who let it happen.”

“We can’t all be the golden boy.” Dev was angry. But he had been for the last fifteen years.

“Is that what this is all about?” Mitch asked.

“Hell, no. It’s never been about you.”

“Hold on. I’m driving.”

Mitch pulled onto the shoulder. Dev’s timing as usual sucked. He wasn’t going to be able to concentrate on manipulating Sophia while worrying about his friend.

Revenge would have to wait. Taking care of his friend was more important. But maybe that was the problem. Mitch was always bailing Dev out. Maybe it was time for some tough love. But Mitch didn’t know if he could leave Dev in a cell. Even if that were the best thing for him.

“Give me the details. I’ll handle what I can from here. I’m going to have to get someone from my office over there.”

He turned off the car and rolled down his window. It was a hot day, reminding Mitch of the summer before junior high school when he and Dev had ruled the neighborhood. They’d been an unstoppable team that year. College had changed them. Mitch had learned that looks and charm weren’t enough to make it in the world, but Dev had never made that adjustment.

Taking a notepad he started asking questions. Dev answered them all with the same honesty he’d always had toward his addiction. “I don’t think detox is going to work this time.”

“You broke your probation.”

“Am I going to jail this time?”

“Let me see what I can do. I’ll have to call the judge and get bail set. Do you have anyone who can post it?”

“No.”

“What about Julie?” Dev was a professional horse breeder and had been working for the last six months with Julie Cavanaugh. And spending most of his nights at her home.

“Don’t send Julie.”

“Why not?” Mitch wished he were in L.A. so he could check out Dev himself. He didn’t know Julie, other than through Dev’s stories. But if the woman was half as crazy about Dev as Dev was about her, then she’d want to know.

“She doesn’t know I’m an addict.”

“Why the hell not?”

“She’s kind of classy.”

“So?”

“She thinks I’m one of the good guys, man. I don’t want her to know I’m not.”

Mitch sighed. He, more than anyone else, understood how a woman could mess with a guy’s head. “I’ll do my best.”

He glanced at his watch. He couldn’t drive and make the kind of calls he needed to make to take care of Dev’s problems.

He called Sophia’s office. Her secretary answered on the third ring and put him through.

“Deltonio.” Sophia’s voice had been hard and very confident in the courtroom. In her office though she sounded like the woman he remembered—sweet, tender and very ladylike. He warned himself not to get drawn into the same trap he had before.

“Hey, babe, its Mitch.”

“Mitch, it’s the twenty-first century. Most women don’t like to be called babe.”

“That’s not what they tell me,” he said.

She sighed and he heard her office chair creak. What was her office like? His corner office in L.A. overlooked the city, and on a smog-free day you could see all the way to the mountains. Did she still have that Monet print of Argenteuil?

“Where are you?”

“In my car. Listen, something’s come up in L.A. Can we meet for drinks instead?”

“I don’t know,” she hedged.

“You’re the one who wanted to meet.” He thought he heard the Stevie Ray Vaughan playing in the background. He hadn’t had a chance to ask her about the gift. Really ask her about it and watch her reactions when she talked about the CD and Coronas. His plan, which was rough, had been to simply torment her with pImages** from their past. Unfortunately that was backfiring on him. The pImages** that he knew would ignite passion within her were having the same result on him.

He heard her shuffling something in the background. “Fine. Where are you staying?”

“At the Westin Grand Bohemian Hotel.”

“I’ll meet you in the Bösendorfer Lounge. What time?” She was all business now.

“In about an hour or so.”

“Good, well, ’bye.”

“Sophia?” he asked, pitching his voice lower. He watched for a break in traffic and pulled back onto the highway.

“Yeah.”

“Have you been listening to ‘Shake For Me’?” he asked.

The music in the background was abruptly silenced. And he knew she had been. “Why would I be?”

“I thought I heard it in the background,” he said. That song had been playing when he’d picked her up for their first date. The music had marked a number of firsts for them. They’d blared it from the speakers when they’d moved in together. And it had played in the background when Sophia had done that striptease for him that had made him ravenous for her.

Even now when he heard it on the radio the song had the power to make him hard with the pImages** of Sophia’s full curves gyrating around him.

“I…I’m not that woman anymore, Mitch.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. We’ll talk later. I’ve got to go.”

She hung up and he drove to his hotel. He didn’t like the way Sophia had sounded before she hung up the phone. He’d always been a protector. That’s why he’d chosen law as a profession. He knew weak people made stupid choices and they deserved competent representation.

He was justified in his revenge but hadn’t expected tearing her carefully ordered world apart to affect him.

SOPHIA TOOK the opportunity to meet with Joan and reassure her boss that she had everything under control. She knew that she had not been at her best in their meeting earlier this afternoon. Being in court though had reminded her of the importance of her career. And she wasn’t going to let Mitch Hollaran derail that.

She set up appointments to speak to Holly McBride and the two girls who’d been in the bar with her when she met Jason Spinder. The alleged sexual act had taken place at a party thrown for the cast and crew of the production. Sophia wanted to interview as many people involved with the case as she could.

But not tonight. Tonight she had to meet with Mitch. Meet with him, talk to him and hopefully put the past to rest so they could both move on. She had to be in court at nine the next morning. Normally she’d be home preparing for the next day. Instead she was in the lobby bar about to meet the one man who was shaking up her life. As much as she resented the time away from work, she had to figure out what Mitch wanted and deal with that.

She took a seat in the piano bar and ordered a glass of wine. She checked her watch. He was already ten minutes late. She’d give him another five and then she was leaving.

She needed to reach some sort of truce with Mitch. If it were only their shared past she’d be able to deal with it. She saw her last lover, Robert, fairly frequently. He was a lower circuit court judge. And they’d become friends of a sort.

But Mitch wasn’t a friend. Even if things had ended well between them she knew they’d never be friends because just looking at him made everything womanly in her stand at attention.

The waitress brought her drink. She’d better control this attraction before it destroyed her. If only there were a way to get Mitch out of her system once and for all. The way they’d parted hadn’t been satisfying for either of them, and she wondered if this time they both could achieve at least some kind of closure.

“Hey, babe,” Mitch said, as he approached her table.

She should have ordered soda water. She needed all of her faculties about her when dealing with Mitch. It wasn’t just that he was the embodiment of everything she found sexy in a man. It was that he knew it. His smile said as much and she shivered in reaction.

He still wore the Armani suit he’d had on in court. His tie was neatly tied and he looked as if he’d stepped from the pages of GQ. It would have been nice if time had been cruel to him, maybe thinned his hair, given him a beer belly, but if anything he was leaner and harder now than he had been in college.

In comparison she felt unkempt. The air-conditioning in her Mazda was on the fritz and she’d sweated buckets the entire way over. She’d touched up her makeup and hair but she’d been in her suit all day and she wished she was at home wearing a sundress and drinking iced tea on her patio instead of sitting in the crowded lobby of the Westin hotel.

“Mitch,” she said, standing to greet him.

He waved her back into her seat and sat down next to her on the padded bench seat instead of in the wing back chair she’d hoped he would take. The cocktail table was close and the lounge made the most of their space, so Mitch was right next to her.

Barely five inches of space separated them. She was painfully aware of her personal space and how close he was to invading it.

He signaled the waitress. “What are you drinking?”

“White wine.”

He raised one eyebrow and ordered a Dos Equis. He settled back against the seat and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked tired and not at all threatening right now. He didn’t seem inclined to talk so she got to the matter at hand.

No matter how vulnerable Mitch Hollaran might seem, his opening move told her he was here for blood. Yet he did look as though he needed a friend. She wasn’t going to ask him what was wrong. She took a sip of her wine.

His beer arrived and he drained half the bottle in one long pull. He stretched his arm along the back of the couch behind her head. His hand rested on her shoulder. He toyed with a strand of her hair.

“Please don’t.”

“Why not? You used to like it.”

She knew she’d been right not to let her guard down around him. “We’re not lovers any more.”

“That’s right. We aren’t.”

She was surrounded by him. The spicy scent of his cologne, the heat of his body, the weight of his arm. She closed her eyes, but that only intensified her other senses. She opened them and looked straight at the man who was back in her life, and not just because of work.

“What do you want from me, Mitch?” she asked. The sooner she figured it out, the sooner she could escape to her home and rebuild the defenses he’d so easily ripped through.

He tilted her face toward his and the intensity in his eyes set every nerve in her body on fire. Perhaps she should just take him upstairs and have sex with him. Let him be in control of her body, and assuage the ache that was growing as she sat here.

“Everything you have to give,” he said.

She clenched her thighs together. She wanted him. Wanted those big hot hands on her naked body. She wanted to take the Coronas and limes up to his room, put on Stevie Ray and make love to him all night long.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why not?”

“Are we playing a schoolyard game?”

“We’re both a little too old for that.”

“Then why the word fencing?”

“Honestly, Sophia, you make me feel fourteen again.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“You can’t control it. And neither can I. That’s why I sent you the basket.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m here for more than my client, babe.”

He leaned back, drained the rest of his beer. Drawing the tip of one finger down the side of her face, he said, “I’m here to exorcise you from my dreams.”