She frowned, the levity evaporating. “Why do you think that?”
He poured them both a mug, then turned to face her as he set them on the table. “Oh, maybe it’s the half-eaten roll on your nightstand, the equally nibbled roll on your dresser. The one in the bathroom, the one above the sink, the—”
“Okay, okay.” She sat and wrapped her hands around the warm mug, shooting him a wry smile. “Remind me never to leave anything lying around when I have a sleepover with a marshal.”
He sat across from her, wishing they could just keep things easy and light. Morning-after banter was hard enough, but they both knew there were serious things to be discussed. “Is it the situation with Bentley that has you keeping stock in Tums, or just work in general?”
She kept her gaze on her coffee, taking her time to scoop out a little sugar from the bowl on the table and drop it into her mug. “As most things are in life, that’s also complicated.”
“I’d like to understand. As much as I can.”
She looked up at him, a little smile curving the corners of her mouth. “That’s a taller order than you realize. And, unfortunately, even the Cliffs Notes version requires more time than I have at the moment.”
“What’s on your docket today?”
She eyed him warily again, and he wished she didn’t have to do that with him. He wanted her to feel like she could be completely open.
“The usual,” she said. “Insanity, followed by overwhelming mountains of paperwork, with a little pressure from all concerned parties thrown in for good measure.” She smiled again, but this time it didn’t appear as sincere. “It’s what I live for. What all Patricks have lived for, for centuries.” She laughed, albeit a bit hollowly, and went back to stirring her coffee. “Or maybe it’s just my career that seems centuries old.”
He wanted to reach out, but he kept his hands on his mug. He wanted her to trust him with the rest, but he couldn’t force that. Hell, he’d already barged in as much as she was going to let him. The rest he’d have to earn. “How long have you been on the bench?”
“Not quite two years.” She glanced over at him. “Didn’t that pop up in your research?”
He held her gaze unabashedly. She was going to have to figure out that she wasn’t about to intimidate him out of this. “All I know about your background, other than what you told me in St. Thomas about your family tree, is what I’ve read in the papers. That you hadn’t been on the bench long. I don’t know the specifics. That has to make you one of the youngest women—”
“Youngest, period. But then, I was genetically predetermined for the position. I guess they just figured, why fight it?”
Again the hint of sarcasm, the hint of unrest. Instead of pride, the pride he’d heard when she’d spoken of her father, of his father before him, he heard…fatigue. Weariness. He wondered why, and if it was just momentary, due to the struggle she was currently involved in, or indicative of a bigger problem. He wanted to ask her, to give her the chance to vent if she wanted it. No doubt she needed it. But he doubted she’d let herself reveal much more than she already had. Not yet anyway. He planned to be around when she was ready, but they had other things to discuss now and time was running short.
“So, you were already on the bench when you and Bentley—”
Her head jerked up and he realized that her weariness wasn’t to be mistaken for lack of acuity. “Why don’t you tell me how much you know?” she said sharply. “Or think you know. Then I’ll have an idea how much time I’ll need to explain the situation I’m in.”
He lifted his hands. “Whoa, whoa. I’m not the bad guy here. And I’m not asking about a former lover because of some egotistical deficiency or something. I’m just trying to establish basic facts here, so we know what we have to work with, what our options are.”
“Our options?”
Now he did cover her hand, breathing a silent prayer when she didn’t snatch it away. “Yes, Laurel. ‘Our.”’ He turned her hand over, traced his fingertips along her palm and fingers. “I know it’s hard to trust in me, and I guess I don’t blame you. And I know our relationship has been rather unconventional from the start, the timing is difficult because of this situation, and that we’d both rather be back on St. Thomas, getting to know each other better under more relaxed circumstances. But that’s not the hand we’re being dealt.” He looked at her then. “You wanted me to step back, wait for this thing to work through to whatever the conclusion might be, and then step back in when it’s more convenient. But what the hell kind of guy would I be if I was willing to do that? Is that the kind of man you want in your life?”
She looked a little stunned by his intensity, but before he could tone it down, she responded. “I guess I never thought about it like that. I was really just thinking I didn’t want to cause trouble for you.”
He grinned. “Well, I hate to tell you, but you found trouble the moment you climbed in that Jeep.”
She smiled. “I seem to have a knack for that, I guess.”
He heard the underlying thread of fear and squeezed her hand. “We’ll get through this. And I’ll earn your trust. But you have to give me a little up front, at least try to accept that I’m only interested in the facts as a way to help you out of this mess.”
She looked up at him and all her defenses seemed gone, at least for the moment. “What do you know? And for that matter, how do you know?”
He took a short breath, then dove in. “I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I had a pretty good idea Bentley was involved. And I figured that the only way he could make you do something you didn’t want to was because he had something on you. Or something on someone you cared deeply about. So I followed Bentley and took it from there. I know that he was trying this case, at least initially, in hopes of using the victory and subsequent press to help launch his political aspirations for the state senatorial race.”
“You said ‘initially.’ Why?”
“Because now I think his needs have changed. I suspect that the ‘family’ member he’s trying to put away has other family members who aren’t all that happy about it. And they’re pressuring him somehow to lose the case. He’s decided that you’re the key to helping him out there, and that if he can’t trade on your former relationship, he’s going to trade on something else.” He held her gaze. “And my guess is that leverage in some way involves your father.”
Laurel withdrew her hand slowly, picked up her coffee and looked into it as she swirled it. The only indication of what kind of thoughts were going through her mind was the death grip she had on the mug.
“What I don’t know,” Sean went on when she remained silent, “is what the Rochambeaus have on Bentley. Yes, I guess they could just have threatened him with bodily harm, or worse, but he strikes me as the sort who would just use that to his benefit. Or at the very least report it to the police as part of the court case. That’s one way to keep breathing.”
Laurel shook her head, but it was as if she was lost in her own thoughts. Finally she sighed, then quietly said, “They’ve threatened him with something more important than his health. They’ve threatened to ruin his future in politics.”
Sean would have laughed at that, except having done his research on the very aggressive and career-minded prosecutor, he knew she was telling nothing less than the truth. “How? What skeleton does he have in his closet?” He smiled. “Besides you.”
Fortunately she smiled at that rather than dump her coffee in his lap. “Well, as you likely know if you’ve seen a newspaper or listened to the news in the past few weeks, they tried to vilify him in the press because of his brief link to me a year ago—tried to ruin me along with him. Seems Alan makes a habit of finding some way to weasel into the good graces of a number of people at different levels of the legal system in this parish—I’m thinking now he’s used more than his looks and occasional charm to worm his way in. Makes me wonder what other forms of blackmail he’s presently using and on how many people. But that’s ano
ther problem entirely. Whatever the case, he seems to find a way to swing things his way when he needs them swung, and while it might border on looking too good to be true on the surface, no one has been able to find anything illegal in his methods.” She sighed and pushed her coffee away.
“So what happened? Did someone see him trying to work things with you, after this case was assigned, and put two and two together? I know how thorough the media can be when they think they’re on to something, like a rabid dog on a bone. Although even I was surprised by the pictures they dug up.” The papers had had a field day with the grainy black-and-white stills, taken from film recorded by the elevator camera in the hotel where they’d been staying. It wasn’t anything all that torrid, just the two of them in an embrace, but it had been proof enough of their liaison. Especially with the helpful time and date stamped right on the film itself.
She flashed him a look and he lifted an apologetic shoulder.
She waved it off. “I’m still not—Let’s just say I haven’t gotten used to being the center of such white-hot media attention and leave it at that.”
“I imagine Bentley wasn’t all that thrilled with those photos being splashed around, either. I mean, his little system of blackmail only works if everything is kept hush-hush.”
Laurel looked at him, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. “You still haven’t grasped the depths Alan will go to, to get what he wants.”
Her meaning sunk in and his mouth went slack. “He leaked the photos? Why would he do such a thing? It was just as liable to come back and smack him as it was you.”
Laurel sighed. “When he realized I wasn’t going to resume our relationship—and what little time we spent together all those months ago hardly even constitutes using that term—he threatened to expose our little weekend out of town.”
“But that was nine months ago. He wasn’t trying a case in front of you then. And there is nothing illegal or even morally ambiguous about two consenting adults spending time alone together.”
She shook her head. “No, not then. But if he could prove we were at any time involved in the past, then the public might very well demand the case be reassigned to another judge. Someone he had a better shot of coercing to do what he wanted them to do because I refused to bow to his threats.” She let out a little laugh, then shook her head. “Honestly, I suppose I was a little naive myself. I didn’t think there was anything to leak. It was one weekend, at a conference in New Orleans. Actually, two conferences. I was there taking some seminars and he was there for some other organization, but our paths crossed on, of all places, Bourbon Street. I was in a little jazz club, alone, just enjoying the evening.” She sighed ruefully. “He came in, spied me in the corner, asked if he could join me. The local golden boy. Good-looking, charming as hell. I don’t usually fall for those types.”
Sean gave her a wry smile. “Glad to know that.”
She smiled in return. “I didn’t say anything about dark and dangerous.”
His smile flashed to a grin. “Ego assuaged.”
She just shook her head. “Men.”
“I know, can’t live with us, can’t move heavy furniture without us.”
“Hmm. And here I hadn’t once thought to get you to move heavy things about. Amazing I’ve kept you around so long.”
He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, propping his chin on his hands. “I guess we have other uses.”
Her eyes flashed, and he found himself wishing like hell they didn’t have the rest of this crap hanging over them.
“And I guess maybe I’m more susceptible to ‘charming as hell’ than I thought.” Her smile was fleeting, the haunted look stealing back across her face as she picked up her now cool coffee and took a sip. “Well, I knew Alan by reputation more than anything else. We’d never argued cases together before when I was still practicing law, nor had he come before me in the courtroom, but he was making a real name for himself in the district attorney’s office. It was no surprise to anyone when he took over the top job.”
Sean shook his head. “Somehow I don’t see you being flattered by his attentions because of his social status.”
“Why, thank you. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said yet. And you’d be right. Social standing doesn’t mean anything to me. I think it was more the timing, than anything. I’d been on the bench for just over a year, and while I was more comfortable in my new role by then, I had also been around long enough at that point to feel somewhat weighed down by it, as well. Of course, because of my age, my family reputation, et cetera, I was being scrutinized far more than any other justice. The responsibility, however, the decisions, the pressure, is all so enormous and I—” She paused, then waved off the rest of what she’d been about to say.
It wasn’t the first time she’d done that. Sean could only hope she’d eventually confide in him.
“Anyway, I hadn’t had much of a social life for some time,” she began, then rolled her eyes. “Who am I kidding? I’d had no social life since donning the black robe. But there I was, out of town and away from all the pressures for a few precious days, and there was a handsome man asking me to dance…and…” She stopped, realizing what she had just said, and gave him half a smile. “Apparently I can’t be trusted when I leave town.”
“There are a few similarities.”
Her smile faded and her eyes flashed with hurt even though he’d said it in good humor. “I guess I deserved that. Trust me, I’ve thought about that, too.”
“Laurel, I didn’t mean—”
“No, that’s okay. Believe it or not, I’ve met and dated men right here in Alexandria. And there is nothing remotely similar between anything that happened between us and what happened—”
“Laurel,” he said, more insistently this time. “I was teasing.” When she just gave him a look, he had the grace to flush a little. “Okay, maybe my ego was a bit more involved than I wanted to believe. Thinking of you with anyone else admittedly makes me…uncomfortable.”
“Well, not that it’s any of your business,” she said, relaxing once again, “but to set the record straight, Alan and I weren’t lovers. It was a harmless and very brief flirtation. For me, anyway. I wasn’t kidding in St. Thomas when I said I didn’t make a habit of that sort of behavior.” She glanced down, then shifted her gaze to some distant point beyond his shoulder. “I made it clear that was all I wanted. Alan wanted more—”
“Of course he did,” Sean broke in.
She smiled again. “Now my ego thanks you.”
He merely lifted a shoulder, then motioned her to go on.
“Well, he did want more, but he backed off when I put on the brakes. He was fun to be with, but I wasn’t interested in him that way. I assume he’d hoped that I would be suitably impressed with his charm, wit and good looks by the end of the weekend to give in then. I wasn’t.” Her lips quirked. “To be honest, I was more seduced by the chance to just be a desirable woman than I was honestly attracted to Alan.” She blew out a deep breath. “That one kiss in the elevator was the sum total of our physical involvement…and I never even thought about it afterward. It never occurred to me it could be used against me.”
“No one would have, Laurel.”
She looked at him. “No one but Alan. I even wondered later, when it all came out in the papers, if he’d planned that kiss as some sort of backup.” She swore under her breath. “I had heard the rumors even then, but to look at him, all blond and tanned, with a gleaming smile, you really don’t want to believe that he’s really a manipulative, lying bastard.”
“Yeah, I know. But you stood up to him—that’s the important thing.”
“I keep trying to tell myself that. The hit I’ve taken in the media has had me questioning that call more than once but, in the end, if I had to do it all over again, I’d have made the same choice.”
“Why didn’t you recuse yourself from the case?”
She smiled. “A Patrick doesn’t back down. If I�
�m going to handle this position, then I can’t run every time things get a little tough.”
Sean smiled, feeling pride in her swell inside him. “Good for you. So what happened when the weekend was over? Did he give you any indication he was going to come gunning for you again at some future point?”
“Oh, he was definitely disappointed that I wasn’t drooling over his proposition that we spend time together back home, make our relationship public. It took me off guard, honestly. I was having fun, feeling flattered by the male attention, but I thought I’d made it pretty clear it was just two colleagues having a nice time away from the shop. He, on the other hand, was already planning on what benefits he’d gain by having a judge for his significant other. Hell, he was already envisioning the white picket fence, his ticket to a great political future all set as part of the vaunted Patrick clan.”
“So I take it he didn’t handle it all that well when you called things to an abrupt halt.”
She shook her head. “He put on a great show of being distressed, heartbroken, even tried several times when we got home to flatter me with a few grand gestures. But he moved on after I refused to even entertain the idea. Or I assumed he had. I hadn’t thought about him at all until this Rochambeau trial began heating up and getting attention. I wondered if it would be awkward, seeing him defend a case before me. But we’re both professionals, and it had been almost a year ago.”
“And he stayed away that whole time?”
She nodded. “Yep. Why he thought I’d renew our relationship all these months later, I have no idea.”
“I guess seeing me pop up in your office must have made you a bit nervous after your experience with Bentley.”
“No,” she said immediately, then squeezed his fingers. “But having you come after me prompted an entirely different reaction inside me.” She smiled. “What we shared was a once-in-a-lifetime thing for me. I don’t…I know you know by now that I don’t let anyone in easily. But with you…” She blew out a long breath. “It was totally different.”
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