Dream Walker (Gifted Liaisons)

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Dream Walker (Gifted Liaisons) Page 1

by Capri Montgomery




  Dream Walker

  by

  Capri Montgomery

  Copyright © 2007 Shunta (Capri) Montgomery

  All Rights Reserved

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  Publisher’s Note:

  Dream Walker is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, event or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  “Are you real?” Daya looked over the finely built hunk. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes and washboard abs is what met her eyes. “Of course, you’re not. I’m in my bed asleep and dreaming.” She eyed him appreciatively. “I must say, you’re the best dream I’ve had since law school.”

  “Come lay with me.” His deep, honey voice seduced her into his bed.

  “Sure, why not?” For a dream, he surely did smell good. She was still in her black lace boy shorts and bra. Her body was perfectly toned without being overly thin. She knew he was admiring the view as much as she was. She climbed on to his bed. Comfy.

  “Do you feel as soft as you look?” He ran his fingers over her collarbone, down to the cleft in her breasts. “Yes you are. Soft and rich. You remind me of honey—smooth and golden. It makes me want to taste you.”

  Daya took a deep breath. “My subconscious must be telling me I need a man, or I need to get laid. You’re cute though. So, what should I call you?”

  “Warren.”

  “I don’t know anybody with that name. You’re not a witness in one of my cases either. I’m too stressed to sort you out right now. Maybe I should just go with this and stop analyzing things.”

  “Let me help you relax.”

  “Sure, why not? I can’t relax in the real world, might as well do it here.”

  “Lie back and close your eyes.”

  “I’ve tried this before, it doesn’t work.” Yet she did as he said. “Now you’re going to ask me to take deep breaths and count to twenty before chanting—what are you doing?” Her eyes flung open as he eased her panties down to her knees.

  “This won’t work if you don’t do as I say. Close your eyes.”

  “Fine.” She closed her eyes. This was ridiculous. “You’re a dream for crying out loud. I need a vaca—”she felt his slick tongue stroke her clit. Suddenly, she was glad she had shaved. This isn’t real you ninny. It wouldn’t matter if you shaved—oh. That felt nice. The slow rhythmic movements of his tongue, the warmth of his breath and the touch of his fingers mesmerized her. Why can’t I meet a man who can turn me on like this in real life?

  He kept playing with her clit, teasing her, licking, sucking faster and harder until she came.

  When he finished tasting her, he came to rest in her arms. She held him close. “That’s some means of relaxation. You’re pretty good at that.”

  “I can give you more.”

  She had no doubt that he could. She heard a faint ringing sound. “Did you hear that?”

  “Ignore it.”

  “Ignore it? She couldn’t. It was getting louder. “What is that?”

  “Don’t think about it. Stay here with me.”

  She faintly heard, “Have your butt in the office first thing in the morning.” That’s all it took to fully awake her. She slowly opened her eyes. Her reading light was still on. Her eyes traveled downward. Her panties stretched around her knees. “Best orgasm in two years and it’s because you’re masturbating in your sleep, Daya Landers.” She fixed her underwear, stretched, yawned and drifted off to sleep.

  ~*~

  “You look rested,” Jackie greeted Daya with a cup of Earl Grey and a stack of file folders.

  “I had a really good night’s sleep.” She smiled. It was great in fact. She just wished she could have met up with her sexy subconscious guy again. Daya quickly shook the thought from her mind. “Anything new?”

  “Well, Satan himself was in here this morning looking for you.”

  Daya grunted. “Great, he seems to be making a regular appearance.” She didn’t need Jackie to elaborate. She already knew Jackie was talking bout Isaac Kroger, her client from hell. “What did he want?”

  “To see how the case is going. He complained to boss man about it. Says he doesn’t want to go to jail for a murder he didn’t commit, and you don’t seem to be working very hard.”

  “He’s guilty as sin, why should I work hard?” she mumbled.

  “Trust me, I know. His charm doesn’t fool me. The man’s a snake.”

  Worse. Daya sat her tea down on her desk. “Were you able to get any research done on his wife?”

  “Yes, but you’re not going to like it. It kind of lends to his credibility. And you know you’ll have to use it. Maureen had a lover, Daya.”

  “Crap,” she plopped down in the chair. She hated making the victim to blame. Her gut feeling told her the man had killed his wife. Unfortunately, gut feelings didn’t convict.

  “We need to talk.”

  Daya looked up to see Dennis Carlson, her boss, standing at her door. “That will be all for now Jackie. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she silently exited the room and closed the door.

  “Dennis, I know what this is about…”

  “Good, because Isaac is pissed and he’s not a man you want to piss off.”

  “Oh, I’m sure. He’ll probably kill us like he did his wife.”

  “You don’t have any evidence of that counselor.”

  She knew his tone meant he wasn’t in the mood for her to argue. She also knew when he called her counselor she was in for the chastising of her life.

  “Your job is to defend him.”

  “I can’t. Give him somebody else.”

  “He doesn’t want anybody else, and he’s not taking anybody else. It’s the price you pay for being the best lawyer in this firm.”

  “He’s guilty.”

  “As long as his checks clear I don’t care. Now do your job, or you’re going to have to think about switching careers.”

  Dennis stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Daya sat frozen. Dennis wasn’t just threatening to fire her. He was threatening to have her disbarred, or worse, blacklisted in the legal field. How one case had gone from walk in the park, to potential disaster she couldn’t understand.

  “A case of a lifetime,” Dahlia had said. Dahlia had been her best friend since college. Their legal minds had pulled them in opposite directions. Daya to criminal law and Dahlia to corporate law. It had been Dahlia who had been the common link between her and Isaac. He had said Dahlia had sworn she knew the best person for his defense. Daya doubted Isaac’s first encounter with her legal expertise had come through Dahlia, she doubted it now more than ever. He was manipulative; he could make anybody believe anything he wanted them to. But he hadn’t been able to make Daya believe he was innocent.

  If she and Dahlia weren’t such good friends, she might call her up and give her a piece of her mind for getting her in this mess.

  “Just get through this case,” she told herself. Getting through the case was only half the problem. She wasn’t sure she could live with her conscious if she got a guilty man off. She would give anything for a do-over. She would certainly make sure she was too busy to take on this case. It was bad enough that she had to defend him. She hadn’t been doing her best, and she knew that. Still, she seemed to be d
oing a lot better than the prosecution. The worse part, Isaac seemed to be everywhere. She just couldn’t get away from him. Knowing her gut was telling her he was guilty, just made her desire for distance that much greater. He scared her. For the first time, in a long time, she didn’t feel safe. Isaac might have known she thought he was guilty, but he had no clue to how afraid he made her and she wasn’t about to give him any indication.

  Daya spent the afternoon interviewing witnesses. They all agreed that Isaac was at a charity fundraiser. Each had placed him at the event at varying times. All had offered to swear to it in court.

  “Mr. Kroger doesn’t wish to call any witnesses, but I’d like to have a selection in case he needs it.” She placed her pen and notepad on the desk. “Thank you for coming in Mr. Peterson.”

  “No problem. If Isaac needs me, you can call me. God knows his wife was no saint. One of her lovers probably did it.”

  “Lover,” Daya corrected. Her investigation had turned up one lover. His name was Christopher Bateman. She had already talked to him on the phone earlier that day. He was in Italy on business at the time of Maureen’s murder. He loved her, she could tell by the affection in his voice. “She was going to leave him,” he had said.

  “She had more than one lover,” Mr. Person continued.

  Daya rolled her yes dismissingly. He obviously hadn’t noticed her lack of belief because he kept talking. She believed Christopher when he told her about the affair. They had been friends in high school, lost touch and found each other again at a fashion show. Maureen had wanted him to design a dress for her. After that, the relationship grew. Christopher had said Maureen was going to tell him after the fundraiser. Daya had the feeling that Maureen had told him before, it had to be why he killed her. People didn’t leave Isaac.

  “Well, I have no doubt the jury will see the truth,” Person said.

  “I hope so,” Daya smiled to be polite. “I hope so.”

  Chapter Two

  “I’m still waiting.”

  Daya lifted her head from her desk, wiped the drizzle of drool from her lip and said, “You came back.”

  “You let me in.”

  She looked down at her fitted jeans and little blue t-shirt. She felt around her hair, pulling out the pencil she’d stuck in there earlier to hold it up. “I was working. I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?” She fidgeted with her clothes. Great. Now you’re worried about looking good in your dreams. Seek help Daya.

  “Late.”

  “I need to talk to you about something?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Well, since you’re my subconscious you already know what this is about, but just play along with me.”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s about my client. Isaac Kroger. He scares me half out of my mind.”

  “Would you like me to handle him?”

  “I need therapy,” she laughed. “Not only is my subconscious a man, but he’s a tough guy. Let me guess—you’re a manifestation of the strength I wish I possessed.”

  “You’re strong.”

  “In the courtroom. I can take down my opponent with no problem. But outside of there…well, let’s just say I could use a little help in that department.” She took a deep breath. “I know this guy is guilty. I know he killed her. I told Dennis and he said, as long as the check clears you do your job counselor. The prick. I hate that he’s my boss.”

  “Turn your evidence in to the police.”

  “You know for my subconscious you sure are forgetful. That would get us disbarred. A killer would still go free, and more importantly, it’s just a gut feeling. I don’t actually have evidence.”

  “That’s a problem.”

  “No shit Sherlock. Tell me what to do.”

  “I can’t tell you what to do.”

  “You’re supposed to be helping me. I thought that was the point of dreams.”

  She wanted to go to the police, but what would she say? “I have a gut feeling my client’s guilty—arrest him again so I can get him out on bail.” That would go over real well. Every time he looked at her, her stomach churned with something—fear she guessed. He had charm, money and sex appeal. The jury would go into his hands easily. Worse, the district attorney put Jonas O’Neil—snot nosed, didn’t want to work, crap-brained lawyer on the case. With those factors, she could get Isaac off the hook in her sleep. “What I need is evidence.”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Why not? We can’t let him get away with this.”

  “You’re going to get yourself killed. Leave it to the cops.”

  “What’s with the singular? If I go, you go. We could sneak into the crime scene—”

  “No.”

  “I’m rather bossy. I’m not sure I like this side of myself.”

  “First of all—”

  Abruptly, she vanished from her dream. Her eyes flared open as a cold hand massaged her neck. Daya jumped from her chair, knocking it and the papers on her desk to the floor. She glared at Isaac. “How the hell did you get in my house?”

  “Now counselor,” he cautioned.

  A shiver rushed through her body. He was Don Johnson and she was the Indian version of Rebecca De Morne. She saw the movie, she knew the ending, but taking a long fall wasn’t her idea of a happy ending.

  “You shouldn’t sleep like that; you’ll get a crook in your neck.”

  She already had one—only she was looking at him right in front of her. “How did you get in here?”

  “Front door,” he walked around her living room, touching the mantel, picking up family photographs and making himself at home.

  “It was locked.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She knew his ignorance to what she had said was an act. She spoke perfect English, he heard and understood her. “The door, it was locked.” She restated.

  “Is this your brother?” He flashed a picture her way.

  “You need to leave, now.”

  “I’ve come to discus my case.”

  “We’ll discuss your case in my office, not in my home.”

  He walked closer to her. “You are working hard on my case aren’t you?”

  “That’s what I was doing before you decided to let yourself into my home.” He was unbearably close. She tried to maintain her composure. She willed herself to steady her feet.

  “No, you were sleeping.” He pointed to the desk. She glanced at the clock.

  “It’s eleven o’clock at night. If you need to discuss your case, call my office in the morning and schedule an appointment.

  He moved closer. This time her feet had a mind of their own. She instantly jumped back. The back of her legs brushed the desk. Isaac traced a feather line across her collarbone. His crisp blue eyes pierced into her. She could see her own fear in his eyes. A crooked smile tugged at the right corner of his lip. Idiot! She hadn’t wanted to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid. Now that she had, he would use it against her. She knew he would.

  He lightly tapped her collarbone. “Goodnight counselor.”

  Daya stood still. It seemed like minutes had passed between the time Isaac closed the door and the time she was able to move from the spot she had been glued to.

  ~*~

  “You look like hell,” Julian told Daya. She was his half sister, but she felt like more than just a half.

  “Thanks,” she pulled the chair out and sat down at the wobbly square table. “Couldn’t you find a better table?”

  “You really do look horrible,” he ignored her complaint. “Did you sleep?”

  She grunted out a sound that he believed translated into no. Ever since she took on the Kroger case she seemed stressed and a little afraid. It’s why he had asked a friend to look after her. Julian had been protective of Daya from the minute his father and new mother brought her home from the hospital.

  At first he hated the idea of having a new mother. He hated having a new sister too. And he had emphatically told h
is dad that he would never love her. One look at her sweet little face and he melted. They were practically inseparable after that. He went to medical school and she went to law school. Daya had always been the smartest girl in her class. When she showed up on campus, Julian was still trying to finish med school. He wasn’t as dedicated to his studies after his parents’ death, and when things got tough he chose to hang out with his frat buddies instead of study. He was already on academic probation. One more failure and he wasn’t going to get another chance.

  Daya came in and changed everything. He was always protecting her from his frat brothers. They all knew not to add her to their list of conquest. He protected her, and she protected him. She came in there and made him settle down and apply himself. “You don’t pass this class you’re out of here.” She had said. He had merely shrugged his shoulders and said, “So what.”

  “So what? Well, you’re out and I’m out. I only came here to be close to you.”

  “You can’t quit.”

  “I think I’ll go to India. I have never seen it and I hear it’s a beautiful place to live. I can marry and stay there.”

 

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