Читать книгу Her Favourite Holiday Gift - Lynda Sandoval - Страница 8

Eric cut a quick path out of the courthouse building. The hearing had gone well enough, which was to say, he hadn’t had to speak directly to Colleen. At this point, that constituted a victory.

The moment he’d seen her, his resolve collapsed, telling him without a doubt that he wasn’t over her. She’d matured from a hot law student into a fiercely sexy woman. And, despite what she might think, her conservative, man-tailored blue suit and precisioncut, swingy black hair couldn’t quite hide her assets.

The broken-glass personality, though? Still as sharp.

When she’d made a motion to bar Robby Axelrod from working on the Taka Hotel project, Eric felt the fury radiate from her like snapped electrical wires. When the judge had denied her request, those wires sparked and exploded in his direction. No chance of putting the calm, friendly approach into play today. Clearly she needed time to cool off. Delaney the Debate Diva was not at all happy about that first loss, the first of many in this case if Eric’s research panned out. He had no desire to face her wrath today.

He’d almost made a safe escape when he heard:

“Nelson! Hang on. I need to talk to you.”

The click-clack of her determined, angry footsteps approaching brought him to a reluctant stop. He swore under his breath, then remembered Jack’s words of wisdom and turned to face her. Calm, cool, confident. Cordial. At least on the outside. He wished Jack had given her the same advice.

She stormed up, chin raised for a fight.

“Colleen,” he said in a mild tone, trying not to notice her smooth, touchable skin. Trying desperately not to inhale her signature powdery scent. “Good to see you after all these years. How have you been?”

“Are you out of your mind?” she asked, her blue eyes molten.

Deep breath in, slow release. Apparently being susceptible to nostalgia wasn’t one of her faults. “Nice greeting.”

She flicked away his attempts at semipolite conversation as if his words were a mosquito swarm. So much for Jack’s plan. “Make your clients take Axelrod off the new hotel project until this case is settled. I mean it.”

Oh, she meant it. Good to know. “I’m not talking to you about this here, Colleen. Not when you’re tossing off demands without so much as a hello.”

He turned and casually walked away.

After a stunned moment, she followed.

“How can you defend those corporate monsters, Eric? That’s not your style.”

“You know nothing about my style. We haven’t spoken in almost a decade.”

“Do you have any idea how many lives are potentially at stake thanks to their shoddy construction?”

“Yep.” A beat passed. “Exactly…none.”

“None?”

Her hand closed around his forearm, a tiny viselike grip of self-righteousness. Resisting the urge to yank away, ignoring the tingles a simple touch sent through his body, he stilled. Stared down at her hand on his arm in relaxed silence until she got the hint and pulled back.

As he looked into her zealous, heart-shaped face, a pang of compassion struck him for how clueless she seemed to be. She had a pit-bull grip on a fight she would lose, and she didn’t seem to have a clue about her client or the big picture. Hard to believe she’d let her lack of research into the case show through her porcupine quills of ire, but as far as he knew, she’d only recently been assigned to it. Maybe she hadn’t had adequate time to delve in. Still. No excuse. She needed to do her research and find out what she was dealing with.

Harsh, Nelson.

Eric’s overactive conscience kicked in, his emotional pull toward this woman. He didn’t want to embarrass her; he simply wanted to exonerate his clients. Sharing what he’d dug up about a possible connection between her client and his client’s key rival before she humiliated herself in front of the entire Chicago legal community felt like the right move. He wasn’t violating privilege; Jack Hanson didn’t even know Drake Thatcher might be involved yet. Contrary to the reputation of most attorneys, he wasn’t about putting on the best show in the courtroom. He was about truth and balance and justice.

Fairness.

That meant bringing Colleen up to speed, like it or not. He sighed. “Listen. Join me for lunch. We can discuss this like reasonable professionals.”

She blinked in surprise. “You…you’re asking me to lunch? Are you crazy?”

He tapped the face of his watch. “Strangely, no. Lunch is what people do around this time of day. It’s one of the three widely recognized meals.”

“But—”

“Colleen,” he said, weary of knocking heads already, “I’ve been in court all morning. I’ve got a full slate of work this afternoon. I’m hungry. Is that so hard for you to understand?”

She crossed her arms over her torso. “No. What’s hard to understand is why you’d invite me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Years ago, we used to be friends.” He imbued the last word with a meaning only she’d understand.

Her face pinkened. “Years ago, like you said. Those days are long over.”

So she wanted to play it that way. “Look, as much as you hate the fact, I do know you. Either I invite you, or I miss lunch altogether because you’ll keep me standing here in the hallway arguing ridiculous points of law. I’d like to avoid that if at all possible.” He held up his free hand. “Nothing more than that.”

She studied him, seeming to search for an ulterior motive. Typical Colleen. After a moment, she tossed her sleek black hair and tried for casual. She didn’t quite pull it off. “Fine. Where do you want to go?”

“Let’s just hit The Chambers. It’s close and easy.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“We can ride togefh—”

“I said I’ll meet you there.”

Eric watched her stalk off, shoulders back, spine stiff. Astonishing how she managed to walk so straight with that monumental chip weighing down her shoulder. It had to be one hell of a heavy burden after all these years.

Not his problem.

He shook his head and started toward the parking lot, his brain reluctantly flooded with memories of a different Colleen. Sure, there’d been only one night in their history that the chip had fallen off her shoulder…a night he absolutely had to put out of his mind during this case. Sleeping with Colleen had been one hell of a beautiful mistake, one they’d never spoken about again, despite his repeated attempts shortly thereafter. Initially, he’d been bewildered by her icecold attitude, but she wouldn’t discuss it. Eventually, he just wrote the woman off as a loose cannon, and his life had been more pleasant since that decision.

That’s what he told himself at least.

But he’d never forgotten….

Would never forget.

Couldn’t.

Despite the fact she was back in his life, he aimed to keep everything strictly professional. Sadly, when it came to Colleen Delaney, that was the only choice she’d given him.

Of all the attorneys in Chicago, why Eric Nelson?

Stupid Murphy’s Law.

Colleen sat in her Audi A6 for several minutes trying to still her nerves, regain her composure. If any guy could break her resolve to stay smart, sane and selectively celibate, that guy was Eric. One look at him in that courtroom—broad-shouldered and confident in his charcoal-gray suit, dark blond hair sexily uncooperative as usual—and Colossal Mistake Night flooded back into her body with a vengeance. The sex had been as explosive and exciting as their debates. It had nearly knocked her off her goal path. Or…it could’ve, had she not freaked out and gone completely cold on the guy, purely by necessity. The whole thing had shaken her to the core, and she hadn’t known any other way to handle it.

She’d run scared then, and she’d run scared today.

Thank goodness, Eric had given up the pursuit both times. And while their estrangement hurt, it also bolstered her resolve to be as diametrically opposed as possible to her mother’s opinion of what womanhood entailed. That meant no marriage. Possibly no man, which was fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

God, he’d looked fine. She let her eyes drift closed.

He’d been a good-looking guy in law school, but he’d matured into an incredible man with incredible presence. He filled up the space around him, claimed it, sucked the air from the lungs of those nearby. And with a calmness that both drew her in and infuriated her. He still made her tummy flop and her heart flutter, still made her want to argue.

Still made her want to get naked and let everything go.

What a mess.

Colleen smacked the heel of her hand against the leather steering wheel. Unsure what else to do, she fished her cell phone out of her purse and sent a text message to her best friend, Megan, a massage therapist. Megs always talked her down from the various ledges of her life when no one else could. Not that she gave anyone else the chance, but still. Megs was centered, nonjudgmental, soothing. Real.

A lot like Eric Nelson, come to think of it.

No. No. No.

Colleen couldn’t risk viewing him that way. It only made things worse.

She just needed to speak with Megan, who knew everything about her and, shockingly, loved her anyway. Go figure. Megan was her safety zone, the one person she could tell absolutely anything. On the other hand, she didn’t plan to tell Eric Nelson anything about herself or her life. Ever. She’d gotten too close to that flame once before, and the burn still licked up inside her in moments of weakness.

She quickly typed:

Opposing counsel? Eric Nelson. From law school. THE GUY. Kill me now.

She hit Send and waited. Moments later, her phone rang.

“Hi, sweetie,” Megan said, in her just-finished-yoga-and-meditation voice. “You okay?”

Colleen bit her lip and blinked into the cold, wintery brightness. Dirty snow from the last storm clung to the curbs, but the sky gleamed a bright whitish gray. “I don’t know. I just…Why him? Of all people? This case is so important, Megs. I can’t let our past get in the way of winning.”

Megan laughed softly. “Do you ever let anything get in the way of winning?”

Colleen cracked a reluctant smile. “Good point. But it’s Eric.”

“Yes, it is,” Megan said softly.

“And we’re meeting for lunch. Now. Ostensibly to discuss the case.”

“Let it go. It’s just lunch with another professional.”

Colleen huffed. “Yeah, a professional I let my guard down with. And had wild jungle sex with.” Life-altering, crushingly intimate, dangerous jungle sex. “Oh, God,” she groaned, squeezing her forehead with her free hand. Heat and something more visceral swirled through her body. An ache. A primal yearning. “I thought I could handle this, but then I saw him and—”

“You can handle it, sweetie. It was a one-night stand back in school. It happens.”

“Not to me.”

“Well, it did,” Megan said, as if it were no biggie. “And nothing ever came of it, so release it.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It can be. You’re an amazing attorney, Colleen, and you’re going to win this case. Take some deep breaths—you remember the breathing techniques I taught you?”

Oops, busted. “Yes. Definitely.” Too enthusiastic.

“Are you practicing them daily?”

She considered fibbing. Why bother; Megan would know. “Not exactly…daily.”

“Ever?”

“Well, I do breathe every day, if that counts.”

Megan laughed. “Not the same. How far do you have to drive to the lunch spot?”

“About a mile.”

“Okay, the whole way there, breathe deeply and slowly, drawing air clear to the bottom of your lungs. Center yourself. Then go have lunch, focus on the case that’s going to make your career, and forget about one meaningless night of sex.”

That was the problem. As much as Colleen tried to claim differently, it hadn’t been meaningless. It had been beautiful and innocent and right. She still remembered the tears trickling from her eyes down the sides of her face to her ears after her first climax. Not because it had been bad, but because Eric made her feel safe in a way no one ever had before. Colleen’s belly tightened at the memory. “One night of mind-blowing sex,” she said, trying to focus on the physical rather than the emotional.

“Not so easy to forget then, huh?”

She bit her lip, feeling unsure. Unsure and hating herself for it. That was so her mother’s style. He was just a man. A man who hated her—she’d made sure of that after the fact. “I have to.”

“Then you will.”

Colleen’s throat closed. She wished she could be more like Megan, but they were cut from different bolts of cloth. She’d accepted that long ago. “Why do you believe in me more than I believe in myself?”

“That’s what best friends do. Now, breathe. And call me tonight and tell me all about it.”

“Okay.”

“And come in for a massage soon.”

“I will.”

“So…how does he look?”

“Megan! I can’t believe you’d ask me that in my time of stress,” Colleen said, but she couldn’t help laughing.

“Hey, you can’t blame me. He’s sort of legendary in the life and times of Colleen Delaney.”

“It was one night.” Keep telling yourself that.

“Yeah. I know. Of mind-blowing jungle sex. You don’t hear that phrase every day. So? How does the man look?”

A pause ensued.

“Amazing,” Colleen said ruefully, wishing he was paunchy and balding, with a big gin blossom nose, like the partners at her firm. That would make it so much easier not to feel. She couldn’t risk feeling. “He looks better than he did during school. Which totally sucks, I might add.”

“Well, don’t think about it. Try not to look at him.”

“Right. Helpful. Should I blur my eyes?”

Megan laughed softly again. “It’s all going to be fine in the end.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Now, go to lunch and do your thing.” A smooch sound carried over the line.

“What’s my thing, though? Help!”

Megan cleared her throat. “You do realize this is what you’ve always done, right?”

“Huh?”

“Freak out about Eric Nelson, then call me?”

“I’m not freaking out, Megs. Freaking out is what teenagers do. I’m just—”

“Go to lunch,” Megan said, laughing.

For the life of her, Colleen couldn’t find a single thing funny with this nightmare….