Caleb nodded, leaning against the table in front of the podium and folding his arms across his wide chest, as if he had all the time in the world to grill her. “So, what is the rule of law here, Miss Moreau?”
“The injured party needs to be put in the position it would have been in were it not for the wrong of the injurer.”
“Which means?” he prompted.
Daniela moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Her mouth felt dry as dust. “If we apply this rule to the case at hand, the plaintiffs should get the market value of the livestock, as well as the loss of use in the time before they could have reasonably replaced the livestock.”
Caleb nodded slowly, those fathomless dark eyes fastened on hers in a way that made it increasingly difficult for her to concentrate. “If the facts of the case were changed so that, say, the Navajo lost a herd of cats instead of highly trained horses, would the court rule the same?”
“That depends,” Daniela hedged.
“On what, Miss Moreau?”
“On whether the judge was a cat lover, thereby placing greater importance on the loss of cats over livestock.”
Her classmates, who’d been heretofore watching the spirited exchange like spectators at a hotly contested Wimbledon match, now erupted into laughter.
A ghost of a smile played around the edges of Caleb’s mouth. He straightened from the table and sauntered around the podium to turn a page in his textbook. “Good job, Miss Moreau,” he said in a deep voice tinged with humor. “Although you probably should have quit while you were ahead.”
Daniela grinned sheepishly as more laughter rumbled across the room.
After class, Daniela was approached by two male students inviting her to join their study group.
“Nice work briefing the Hatahley case,” they complimented her, gazing at her with frank male appreciation. She wore a fitted red shirt with a scooped neckline and a pencil-slim skirt made of stretch denim that hugged her body like a glove.
“How many people are in your study group?” Daniela asked, leaning over the table to unplug her laptop.
“Four so far,” answered the taller of the pair, a good-looking Hispanic boy who couldn’t keep his eyes off her butt. “We’re trying to keep it at six, like they suggested in orientation over the summer.”
“Good,” Daniela said briskly. “April and I will make it six, then.”
Two pairs of eyes shifted toward April, who stood almost shyly beside Daniela.
“Cool,” said the other student, a cute redhead with clear green eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose. “Do you guys want to meet now? We’ve got some time before Contracts at eleven.”
“Can’t,” said Daniela, with a surreptitious glance toward the front of the room where Caleb stood talking to a group of students. “I’ve got something to take care of first. Maybe after class on Friday.”
“Sounds good. Catch you ladies later.”
As the pair moved off, April giggled. “This is going to be a great year. With you by my side, I’ll get to meet all the hotties on campus.”
Daniela grinned, but there was only one hottie on her mind at the moment.
“Hey, did you check out the seating chart?” April asked, thrusting her copy forward for Daniela’s inspection. “It’s in alphabetical order, but look where it places you. Smack-dab in the middle of the second row, right in front of Professor Thorne’s lectern. He’ll have an up-close-and-personal view of you all the time.”
“Hmm,” Daniela murmured, both pleased and terrified at the prospect.
“I, on the other hand, have been banished to the far end of the second row, to languish in obscurity.” April gave a wistful sigh. “You lucky woman.”
Daniela laughed. “Maybe not. Being in that seat puts me in his crosshairs, and we all know how that goes.”
“Yeah, but he’s already called on you, so theoretically, you should be safe for a while. Besides, you did great. I think he was really impressed. I know the rest of us were. Anyway, I’m going to the library to get some reading done before class. I’m nowhere near as prepared as you obviously are.” Stifling a yawn, the girl stepped into the aisle and headed up the stairs. “See you at eleven.”
Daniela stayed behind and waited for Caleb to finish talking to students. She couldn’t afford to let him out of her sight, knowing that Shara Adler was probably camped outside the classroom waiting to invite him for coffee.
This time Daniela would beat her to the chase.
Gradually the last of her classmates dispersed, and Caleb and his assistant, Emma, started up the stairs together. As they conversed, the woman gazed up at him with pure adoration, leading Daniela to wonder if any female on campus was immune to the man.
As the pair drew nearer to where she stood, Caleb’s dark eyes locked on hers, making her mouth go dry.
Immune she was not.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked when he reached her.
He nodded, then glanced at Emma. “Thanks for your help today. We’ll talk later.”
“All right,” she said, smiling shyly. She eyed Daniela curiously before continuing up the stairs and out of the classroom.
“What can I do for you, Miss Moreau?” Caleb asked, his tone formal.
Shoring up her courage, Daniela said, “I was wondering if I could buy you a cup of coffee.”
She saw the refusal in his eyes even before he opened his mouth. “Thank you, but—”
“I was hoping to pick your brain about the case brief I’m working on. I know it isn’t due until the end of the semester, but I could really use some help.”
“I’m sure Shara would be more than happy to answer any questions you have.”
“I know, but…” She gave him what she hoped was her most beguiling smile. “Well, you did offer your assistance yesterday in the library. Do you remember?”
“Of course I remember.” By the look on his face, though, she could tell he probably wished she hadn’t remembered. Fortunately, he was too much of a gentleman to renege on the deal. “Why don’t you stop by during my office hours this afternoon? We can talk then.”
“Can’t do it this afternoon,” she lied. “I’m meeting with my study group. Besides, I really want to start working on the case brief as soon as possible. One cup of coffee, Professor Thorne. That’s all I ask. Please?”
He hesitated, flicking a glance at his wristwatch. “Coffee, huh?”
She grinned, tasting victory. “And maybe a beignet, too. What the heck. I’m feeling generous.”
He chuckled, and her stomach bottomed out at the low, sexy rumble. “In that case,” he drawled, “how can I refuse?”
Chapter 6
Daniela was surprised, and more than a little relieved, when they made it out of the building and to the parking lot without encountering Shara Adler.
“We can take my car,” she told Caleb. She glanced at the helmet tucked beneath his arm, then added hopefully, “Unless you want to take me for a spin on your Harley?”
He looked down at her tight-fitting skirt, and his eyes darkened. “You’re not exactly dressed for it,” he said gruffly.
Daniela swallowed, tingling from the heat of his brief perusal. “Guess not.”
They reached her car, a silver Mustang that gleamed in the morning sunlight. Caleb ran an appreciative eye over the sleek, classic contours of the vehicle. “Nice whip.”
“Thanks. I like it, too.” She unlocked the doors and dropped her laptop and backpack into the backseat next to Caleb’s helmet and leather satchel. As she slid into the car beside him, she saw that his legs were too long in the confined space, his knees colliding with the dashboard.
“Sorry about that,” she said, grinning as he adjusted the seat. “The last person who rode in the passenger seat was my mother, and she’s only five-two.”
He smiled a little. “How tall are you?”
“Five-seven.” She started the car and reversed out of the tight parking space. “From what I understan
d, my father was very tall, and that’s where I get my height from. He passed away before I turned one.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Caleb said quietly.
“Thanks. In a way it was both a blessing and a curse that I was too young to remember him.”
Caleb nodded. “I can understand that.”
Daniela maneuvered through the parking lot bustling with students and faculty, and turned left at the first intersection. “How long have you been teaching at St. Mary’s?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. Might as well get used to pretending not to know certain details about him.
“Five years.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him studying her profile. “Are you originally from San Antonio?”
She nodded. “You?”
“Born and raised.”
“Ever wanted to live anywhere else?”
“Can’t say that I have. You?”
“Not a chance.” She slanted him a whimsical smile. “Guess we’re kindred souls.”
He chuckled low in his throat and shifted in his seat, heightening her awareness of him. She drew in a breath of his clean-scented male warmth and fought to keep her mind on the road, and not the way his jeans molded the hard, sculpted muscles of his thighs.
“You do know that there’s a coffee shop on campus,” he commented. “And a Starbucks right around the corner.”
“Yeah, but I figured you might prefer to go somewhere less…populated by your students and colleagues.”
His mouth twitched with wry humor. “If I was afraid to be seen in public with you, Miss Moreau, believe me, I wouldn’t be here. Maybe you’re the one who’s afraid to be seen with me.”
“No way,” Daniela said quickly—too quickly.
A lazy smile was his only response.
Two minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of Anthony O’s Coffeehouse and killed the engine. Together they climbed out of the Mustang and walked toward the restaurant.
Caleb held the door open for her and she brushed past him, the brief contact raising a prickly set of goose bumps along her skin. When she looked over her shoulder to thank him, she found his hooded gaze on her mouth. She trembled, actually trembled, and somehow forced her legs to keep moving toward the hostess station.
At that early hour, the café wasn’t crowded. Natural light poured in through floor-to-ceiling windows, and soft jazz wafted throughout the dining room that featured an inviting turquoise color scheme.
They were shown to a booth near the back and presented with menus. Caleb ordered a cup of the house blend along with the beignet Daniela had promised.
“I’ll have an espresso,” she told the young blond waitress, “and a small serving of vanilla ice cream.”
When the waitress slipped away to fill their orders, Caleb cocked an amused brow at Daniela. “Coffee and ice cream?”
She grinned. “Ever tried it?”
“No.”
“You should. It’s one of those simple pleasures everyone should experience at some point in their lives. Like watching a sunset…or riding a motorcycle.”
Caleb chuckled, leaning back in the booth. His T-shirt stretched across his wide chest, displaying the solid muscle structure that bunched and rippled beneath. “Still lobbying for that free ride, huh?”
Her grin widened. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. I’m nothing if not persistent.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that.” With his arms spread over the back of the leather cushions behind him, he looked relaxed and content, not to mention heartthrob-sexy. “Why do you want to be a lawyer, Miss Moreau?”
“Please, call me Daniela.” At his guarded look, she hastened to add, “At least outside the classroom. It feels weird to be on such formal terms over a friendly cup of coffee. Please?”
He hesitated, then gave a slight nod. “All right. Now, tell me why you want to be an attorney. Were you a prelaw major in college?”
“No, accounting.” It was another detail, like her first name, that she and her brothers had decided not to fabricate. The less she lied about, the less risk she ran of blowing her cover. Theoretically, anyway.
“I earned a bachelor’s degree in accounting, became a CPA and went to work for a large accounting firm. But, after just three years, I knew it wasn’t for me.”
“How did you know?”
Something in his gentle tone made her want to tell him everything—about the long nights, demanding clients, unscrupulous bosses. About the tears of frustration she’d shed on the way home, then quickly scraped away before going inside the house so her mother wouldn’t notice and worry even more.
“I was unhappy,” she said simply. “The reason I became a CPA was that I’d always been good at math, so it seemed the natural choice for me to go into accounting. And, quite honestly, I wanted to make a lot of money—and I did.”
“But it wasn’t enough for you,” Caleb said softly.
“No, it wasn’t.” A sardonic smile curved her mouth. “When the whole Enron scandal broke, I realized that what had happened to those employees could just as easily happen to me. The next day, I walked into my boss’s office and handed him my resignation letter.”
“That took a lot of guts,” Caleb said in a voice laced with admiration.
She shrugged. “Not really. I should have done it a lot sooner.”
Caleb nodded slowly. “So, what have you been doing since then?”
“Freelancing. Preparing taxes, doing bookkeeping—stuff like that.”
The waitress materialized with their orders, setting each item carefully on the table. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” she inquired, looking at Caleb.
He shook his head, and Daniela asked, “May I have a spoon?”
“Oh. Sorry.” The girl fumbled out a set of linen-wrapped silverware from the front pocket of her apron and passed it to Daniela without ever taking her baby blues off Caleb. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”
His mouth twitched. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Okay. Well, just let me know if there’s anything else you need. Anything at all.”
“Will do,” he said with a wink that made the girl blush. “Thanks.”
Daniela shook her head at Caleb as the waitress moved on to the next customer. “Is it just me,” she muttered, “or have you ever noticed the effect you seem to have on every female that crosses your path?”
He took a sip of steaming coffee, dark eyes glinting with amusement over the rim. “How would you know that? We’ve been acquainted all of, what, two days?”
“Three days. I met you bright and early on Monday morning.”
“Not so early,” he pointed out dryly. “You were ten minutes late to my class.”
“Semantics.”
He laughed, a strong, deep sound that rumbled up from his chest and made Daniela’s toes curl inside her wood-heeled Jimmy Choo sandals. “You’re going to make a fine lawyer someday, Miss Moreau,” he drawled.
“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” she quipped, enjoying the repartee so much that she didn’t bother correcting him on the formal address. She spooned vanilla ice cream into her mouth, then followed up with a sip of espresso.
A deep, languorous sigh escaped her lips. “Mmm-mmm.”
Caleb was watching her, cup halfway to his mouth. “That good, huh?” His voice sounded rough, tight.
Daniela nodded, grinning. “It’s a sensory thing. You know, the combination of rich, hot coffee mixed with sweet, cold ice cream. Mmm, heavenly. You should try it.”
He shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“Come on, try it,” Daniela coaxed, holding out a spoonful of ice cream to him. “I think you’d really like it. Try it. I insist.”
Caleb hesitated, then leaned forward to accept the sweet offering. As she slid the spoon into his mouth, she was caught off guard by the sudden heat that bloomed in her belly and spread outward like a slow, thick liquid.
Her heart thundered at the very male look that f
illed his eyes as he watched her watching him. Slowly he ran his tongue over the sensuous curve of his bottom lip, removing traces of the creamy concoction.
“You’re right,” he said silkily. “It is good.”
Her breasts felt tight and achy against the lace bra she wore. Without thinking, she drew the spoon into her own mouth and licked off the remainder of vanilla ice cream, imagining she could taste him. It was the most erotic experience she’d ever had. The only thing that’d be more erotic would be Caleb licking ice cream from her body.
She shivered convulsively.
“You, uh, were supposed to take a sip of coffee right afterward,” she said huskily. “To, uh, get the full effect.”
His eyes darkened, stoking the flames already building inside her. “I think I did.”
Her pulse accelerated, and she felt a thrill of wicked pleasure at his words. Another minute of this, and she’d be begging him to take her into the bathroom and do unspeakable things to her.
Fortunately, Caleb chose that moment to glance at his watch. “Let’s talk about your case brief.”
As opposed to having hot, kinky sex in a public restroom.
Biting back a sigh of regret, Daniela reached under the table for her purse. As she rummaged around for a pen and the small notepad she’d brought to take notes, Caleb’s gaze wandered to the flat-screen television mounted in a nearby corner of the restaurant. A KSAT-12 news anchor was reporting on the early-morning indictment of a local labor union boss. Carlito “Lito” Olivares, president of the Oil Refineries Workers Union, had been charged with embezzling over one million dollars from various employers represented by his union.
Shaking her head in disgust, Daniela was about to make a scathing comment when something in Caleb’s demeanor stopped her. A muscle worked in his tightly clenched jaw, and he gripped his coffee cup so hard, she worried it would shatter in his big hand.
With mounting curiosity, she looked at the television, then back at Caleb. What was going on here?
One of the waiters turned up the volume on the television. “…is also charged with defrauding the union by submitting false entertainment vouchers, using union funds to purchase personal airline tickets and billing the organization for $30,000 in personal telephone calls made on a union-issued cell phone. Olivares is expected to enter a not-guilty plea at the arraignment next week. We’re also getting word, from sources close to the Olivares camp, that legal heavyweight Crandall Thorne may soon step in to represent Olivares on this case.”
A Legal Affair Page 6