by Aliyah Burke
While her gaze was no less intense, the edge faded from Shai’s eyes. Her sister may have been a professor but she was fiercely protective of her family.
“So he was acting like a baron?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know, Shai. Until him I’d never met another baron. So possibly, but I can’t say for certain. Then he told me it was time for me to move there. It was in that moment I realized I wasn’t anything more than a piece of eye candy, property for him to have an add-on to a claim. It’s like he never once heard me talk about and show my excitement for becoming one of the youngest ADAs the Quad Cities have ever had. Like all our time talking as we walked along the beaches suddenly meant nothing to him. Like jack shit. He assumed that because he was a baron and he liked it, for the moment anyway, living in Switzerland, that I would drop everything and be at his side. He wouldn’t even talk to me about it. So I told him I obviously had to come home first, and then would go from there.”
“So once you made it home, you just wiped him away and didn’t tell us? Didn’t even admit it to yourself?”
“That’s precisely what I did. I ran from it because I didn’t want to face it. And for whatever reason, he’s back. And I’ve run out of options so I have to face him.”
Shai got up from the table. Tara tracked her with her gaze as she fixed herself another cup of coffee. Instead of returning, Shai pivoted and relaxed against the countertop, ankles hooked as her dark purple sequined socks gleamed against the shiny floor.
“I just have one final question for you. Okay that’s a lie, but one final one for the moment. I reserve the right to request this witness.”
Tara smiled and nodded.
“Do you still love him?”
Dammit. It’s one helluva good question.
* * * *
Andrew stared out of the window of his penthouse suite, wearing nothing but the towel around his waist. The day was dark and gloomy, more snow falling. It wasn’t that he had a problem with snow—he loved it—this was because his wife was avoiding him. He’d gotten back to her office earlier today only to be told she was out and they wouldn’t tell him when she was coming back.
He never even attempted to play the husband card because he had no doubt she’d not told anybody about them and their marriage. Another fact that hurt.
So he’d been in here all afternoon, finally taking a long hot shower, hoping it would calm him down and relax his tense muscles. So far it hadn’t worked, at least not the relaxing, but he was warm and the hotel was passable.
Behind him, in the reflection from the mirror, he could see the steam billowing out from the bathroom. The view he had from the window here didn’t quite match his one in Switzerland, but that wasn’t a fair comparison, were he to be honest. This was still missing something, as did his one he had at home. If he had his choice, there would be a tiny little woman right beside him—one who went by the title of his wife—wrapped in a robe of her own or naked. He was good with either.
He scratched his facial hair, debated shaving it for about five seconds, then shook his head, refusing to entertain that notion further. Spinning on his heel, he made his way to the foot of the king-sized bed and sat.
Andrew bunched his fists and pounded the mattress on either side of his thighs. He just needed one chance. Just one, to get her to reconsider everything from giving him another opportunity to actually being his wife in more than just the name.
His phone rang and he swore as he made his way over to where it sat on the tall dresser. Scowling at his own reflection, he swept it up and answered with a sharp, “What?”
“Just calling to check in as you said you wanted me to do.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head at the alto tone of his personal assistant, Wendy Grider. “I’m fairly certain I said I don’t need you to check on me, Wendy. I can handle this myself and don’t need any of your interference.”
Silence lingered between them for a few moments before she cleared her throat.
“Take it as you will. All I know is before I started working for you, you were a mess. I’m here to make your life easier and run much more organized. It would’ve been a lot simpler had you just let me come over there and bring her back over here.”
For one of us maybe.
“I don’t even know why I told you about her.”
“Again, because I’m your personal assistant. I can’t do my job if you’re holding out on secrets with me. I’m surprised it took me this long to find out that you actually had a wife. I should’ve known from the jump, would’ve made everything so much simpler. Regardless, that is not why I’m calling.”
He rubbed his temple. The stirrings of a migraine were raising their ugly head and making themselves known. “Of course it’s not. What’s going on?”
“There’re some issues with a few of your holdings and I need you to look over the proposal I’m sending on the best ways that we can handle this. I’ve already sent them and here’s where I really need you to listen. I need this back in no more than forty-eight hours.”
The migraine stopped ebbing at him with the potential of arriving and fully popped out. Wendy was damn good at her job, which was why he’d hired her. But there were times when the woman just didn’t take a hint and let things go. This would have been one of those times. This should have been one of those times. However, Wendy being who she was, pit bull with a bone, wasn’t letting it go.
“I’m not here to work on any proposals, I’m here to bring my wife home.”
“How nice. Multitask. Women do it all the time. Besides, your wife is in court for a case and she has another following it, then there’s lunch with her sister Shai.”
He perked right up. “How do you know my wife’s schedule?” How the hell was it that Wendy knew but he didn’t?
“Please,” she scoffed. “From the moment I learned about her, I’ve been keeping tabs on her. You paid for her hospital stay after she was shot.”
His blood ran ice cold. “What did you say?”
“She was shot a while ago. I told you this and you hemmed and hawed before climbing back on your jet to head off to Dubai for a meeting.” Disappointment lined her tone. “I felt you should pay for it as you’re still married, so I took care of that and have been keeping tabs on her to make sure she doesn’t need anything. I like her, she’s smart as a whip.”
His jaw tingled and he fought back the urge to hurl. Had he truly been so callous?
Obviously I was, since she didn’t think of coming to me for anything, nor did she let me know that happened.
“I’ll send back the papers, but right now, I have to speak to my wife.” He ended the call before she could say another word. After he tossed the phone onto the mattress, he picked up the pillow, shoved his face in there and screamed in anger.
I have so much to make up for.
He opened the closet and pulled out a suit. Before long he was moving from the hotel lobby to the waiting town car. With a nod to the man holding the door, he slid over the smooth leather seat.
Jaw set, he tugged on the cuff of his suit coat and flicked a dismissive gaze over his attire. This would work.
He read a bit of the paperwork during the ride across the Quad Cities to the courthouse he needed to reach. His anger grew as he realized what Wendy was talking about. Two of his distributors were skimming. This would be handled.
The car slowed and he closed the document as his skin prickled. Soon, he would see her once more.
“I’ll call when I’m ready,” he said as he moved past the driver.
“Very good, sir.” The young man tipped his hat and headed back to the driver’s seat.
Andrew strode up the large steps in front of the courthouse. As he entered, he frowned again at the sight of the metal detectors.
Really?
It bothered him to see she had to go through these, here and at her job. He put his money clip, wallet, passport, phone, and change into an ugly gray container, then walked through. The gua
rd there gave him a brief smile but didn’t speak.
As he returned all his things, his screen lit up and he swiped it, seeing a message from Wendy. I owe her a raise.
She’d texted him the courtroom location. Lengthening his stride, he found the room, ensured his phone was on vibrate and pushed in to sit along the back. A fat man in an expensive suit paced before the jury at the moment, telling them about his client.
Angling his head a bit, he could see the back of his wife’s head. All that thick, glorious hair had been wrenched back into a tight bun. He could see only a few strands of the hot pink that had grabbed his attention last night.
She didn’t fidget. Her back was ramrod straight and once in a while he saw her make some notes on a pad beside her. He crossed his arms and listened.
He could acknowledge he hadn’t paid full attention until the man walked to his seat and Tara rose. She wore the hell out of her dark charcoal-gray suit with thin stripes of pink through it.
One of the things he’d always admired about her from the start was her confidence. She may not have had a lot of physical height but her self-confidence made her appear ten feet tall.
She tugged on the hem of her suitcoat and approached the defendant who sat on the stand. “Mr. Abernathy. I only have a few questions for you, then you can get down.” The man shot her a smile, probably thinking she was going to go easy on him.
It wasn’t an action she returned. Andrew sat back in the bench and watched as his wife tore into the man and reduced him to a quivering pile of tears.
Chapter Three
Only her professional demeanor kept her expression devoid of anything the moment she laid her gaze upon the man in the back row, staring at her as she did her job in the front.
What the hell is he doing here? Why is he here? And how the hell did he figure out where I am?
Aware her expression didn’t give any of her thoughts away, she coolly dismissed him by turning back around. She walked to the front of the table she and her assistant used. Once she’d finished clasping her hands before her, she sighed and turned her attention to the men and women of the jury.
“One final question for you, Mr. Abernathy.”
The man wiped the corners of his eyes. Her heart had no feeling for him, nothing in the way of sympathy. He was a bully and an ass of the highest caliber and she despised men—people really—who were like that. Smooth, with money, who thought he could charm his way out of any situation that didn’t go well for him.
It was why he’d ignored his attorney’s advice. She knew David Sala wouldn’t have advised him to take the stand. She’d worked across from that man far too long to know him to do otherwise. So that meant he was confident he could charm her as well as the jury.
It was difficult for her to keep the smug attitude hidden. The tears may have started as fake but as she progressed, she knew they had become real as he realized that this wasn’t going at all how he wanted.
Pushing the lingering thoughts of her husband to the back of her mind, she took a deep breath and gave the jury a slight nod of acknowledgment, wanting them to know she understood this was important.
“What exactly did you think should happen when Ms. Hunter said no to you in front of all those potential clients?”
“No one says no to me. She never should have.”
Realization hit him and she watched his expression pale. In her peripheral vision she noticed David grind his jaw in frustration.
“Thank you, Mr. Abernathy.”
“That’s not what I meant to say. You’re twisting my words,” he hollered. “I never met this woman.”
“The prosecution rests, Your Honor.”
She walked back to her chair and couldn’t help but allow her gaze to sweep the spectators, moving with expedited speed over the family of the victim and along her husband, who’d moved a tiny bit. Another dismissive glance and she sat down beside her co-counsel.
He shared a look with her as the defense counsel tried to redirect, but the damage had already been done.
“Closing arguments tomorrow at nine a.m.” The gavel banged down and they all rose as the judge walked out.
She checked her wrist and swore. It was going to be close.
“I have to haul ass to my next court case. I will meet up with you back at the office and we’ll finalize the closing.”
Okay, so she already had it finished but there were some tweaks she had to put in, given how today had gone.
“I’ll be there. I’ll bring dinner.”
She grinned at Amir Dixon. “I’m looking forward to it. Gotta run, see you later.” As she grabbed her briefcase, she shared a look with David as well. The man wanted to meet for a plea.
“Call me, David, I’m due in Mathis’ courtroom and I really don’t want to be late.”
“Count on it.” He waved her on and she lengthened her stride toward the door.
All the lawyers knew Judge Mathis and she wasn’t one anyone wanted to get on the bad side of. It was on the other end of the court building and two levels up.
Some days it sucks having short legs.
He fell into step beside her and she refused to listen to her body’s need to sway in his direction. As he kept pace with her without any strain on his part, she waited for him to speak. It wasn’t until they hit the stairwell that he did.
“We need to talk.”
“Now’s not going to happen, Drew. I’m busy.”
“It’s Andrew.”
“Whatever.”
She hustled up the stairs, grateful for Shai dragging her along to all those butt-fuck early ass spin classes, so she wasn’t going to be looking like a fish out of water as she stood before the judge.
“Why do you have to make everything so damn difficult?”
She ground her jaw and prayed for patience. It wouldn’t do not only to miss her court appointment but also have to be bailed out of jail because her temper had gotten the best of her.
“Why are you so determined to try and reduce everything anyone else does to nothing if it inconveniences you? Newsflash, I’m in the middle of my work day. I’m not stopping to fuel your need to absolute supremacy. It’s not going to happen.”
He grabbed her upper arm, swinging her around so they were face-to-face.
Her brain short-circuited. That could prove to be problematic. This man was her weakness—her Achilles’ heel, so to speak. Those incredible eyes stared down at her from beneath his thick lashes.
This, right here, this is why I moved away from him. Because it was about him and he makes me lose my train of thought.
His grip softened. Not enough for her to pull free, but so he wouldn’t leave a mark, yet she couldn’t help but feel his touch all the way to her clit. “I know you’re working, just like I know you are going to see your sister later. But we need to talk. I need to know what the hell is going on here. Oh, and about you being shot.”
“Stalkerish much?”
His eyes hardened as they narrowed. “When it comes to my wife? Hell no. Five years, Tara.”
“Oh, lookie, the baron can count. Good for you. Here’s another number. Two. That’s how many minutes I have until I’m held in contempt of court. So let go of my arm.” This time she yanked back from him, an immediate curse escaping in regards to the emptiness within her as well as the rebellious cells who gravitated back toward him.
Shoving away all warm fuzzy thoughts, she hauled ass for the door and slipped inside with fifteen seconds to spare. She didn’t delude herself into thinking that this was over between them, not by a long shot.
Think on it later—right now, we have a case to win.
After that finished, along with a call to Shai to push back their lunch, she was with Amir in her office, takeout between them as they finished up everything she needed to do prior to closing arguments tomorrow morning.
“You have a visitor, Ms. Monroe.”
“Send them in, Marvin,” she replied without looking up from the papers.
> “Tara.”
The fork in her hand wobbled as Andrew’s molten voice poured over her, much like the warm chocolate he used to drizzle on her prior to licking it off. Or was that the honey, syrup and more? Her nipples pushed against the sateen of her bra and she fought the urge to squeeze her legs together.
Lifting her head, she couldn’t help but notice the silent question in Amir’s gaze.
“Coleman,” she returned. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
Her blood simmered. “Like I told you earlier, I’m busy. I don’t change my schedule merely because you saunter into town.”
“I’m not leaving, Tara. You can’t ignore me forever.” Challenge dangled from his lips with those words.
“I can have you banned from ever coming in here.”
One eyebrow rose and a dangerous, warning glint filled his gaze. “Is that how you want to play this?”
She knew she should back down. But this man, damn it all, got beneath her skin in so many ways.
“I’m not playing.” She nodded to Marvin.
“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Monroe. Sir, you need to come with me.”
Andrew stood up and his gaze flashed with lightning. “Very well, Mrs. Coleman. I’ll be back once the papers hear of their ADA who’s married to a baron.”
She closed her eyes as those words fled his lips. Amir’s and Marvin’s gazes bored into her. She didn’t look away from Andrew.
“The name is Ms. Monroe,” she ground out.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never been served with divorce papers and I’m damn sure we fucking consummated the hell out of our marriage, so no way it was annulled.” He tugged on one sleeve of his perfect-fit coat. “So, Baroness Coleman, when will you have time to speak to your husband? Now? Or should I go to the news?”
If only this plastic fork were a steak knife, I’d put it right between his ribs.