A Score to Settle

by Kara Lennox

  One careless moment could derail your whole career.

  She’d never been sure why he felt that way, since her conception hadn’t been even a speed bump in his career, unless an occasional birthday gift… Damn.

  Her father. That was the thing that was bothering her. Daniel still didn’t know her relationship to the man who had sent him to death row.

  Daniel had her shirt all the way unbuttoned and was working on the front clasp of her bra.

  “Daniel. Daniel, wait. I have to tell you something.”

  His fingers went still. “It can wait. Can’t it?”

  He was right. If she brought up the subject of her father right now, it would kill the mood completely. “Never mind. It’s not important.” At least, it didn’t seem very important in this context.

  What difference did it really make that her father had prosecuted Daniel? She’d never been close to her father. She’d had only a handful of face-to-face meetings with him, during which he preached and she absorbed what she perceived as his wisdom. She was in no way directly connected to the miscarriage of justice that had put Daniel away.

  She smiled, made herself relax again.

  Why was she fighting this so hard? As Daniel said, they were two consenting adults and there was no ethical or moral reason they couldn’t make love.

  She sat up and stripped off her blouse and jacket at the same time. Her bra followed. Daniel stared at her with hungry eyes, like a kid who’d just won the biggest stuffed animal at the carnival.

  “Can I touch?” he asked almost shyly.

  She wondered if she was his first since prison. If so, he’d hardly been more than a kid the last time he’d been with a woman. She took his hand and guided it to her breast. The muscles of her abdomen spasmed as he touched her.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said reverently.

  A deer head mounted over the fireplace seemed to be looking at her accusingly. She closed her eyes and shut out all distractions, focusing on the feel of his hand on her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple.

  For the second time that day, he pulled the clip out of her hair and dug his fingers through it, massaging her scalp as he massaged her breast.

  Jamie slid her feet out of her shoes and reached for the side zipper of her pants. She wanted to be naked, to open herself completely. She wanted to feel the texture of his skin, feel the heat of it touching her.

  “I don’t want to let go of you long enough to get undressed,” he said. “Isn’t that insane? But I’m afraid you’ll evaporate.”

  “I’m here, Daniel, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  He let go of her to quickly unbutton his shirt and peel it off, revealing a chest that was tanned to a golden brown. The skin was smooth, with just a light dusting of hair at the center.

  His jeans came next. Her mouth went dry as he shoved them down his legs, revealing a pair of navy boxer briefs that showed every inch of the extent of his desire for her.

  Then the underwear was gone, too, and she couldn’t take her eyes off his beautiful male anatomy, standing proudly, ripe for her taking.

  Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to take him in her mouth and shower her attention on him. She’d heard men preferred the activity over all others, because it was the only time a woman’s attention was focused solely on his pleasure, forsaking her own.

  She wouldn’t be forsaking anything. Without any conscious decision she sat up straighter, reached for him, placed her hands on his hip bones and urge him to stand in front of her.

  “What… Oh.”

  Jamie took him into her mouth, exploring him from the base of his shaft to the tip with her eager, curious tongue and lips while he filled his hands with handfuls of her hair.

  “Um, Jamie…” The words came out on a groan and she realized he was fighting for control. “I want to be inside…”

  She released him. “Yes. Yes, I want that, too.” Their first time, perhaps their only time, she wanted him to climax inside her.

  Jamie raised her hips from the sofa just long enough to shuck her pants and panties, kicking them out of the way as she grabbed Daniel’s wrist and pulled him down on top of her.

  His weight crushed her and she loved it, feeling pinned and helpless for a few seconds as he adjusted their positions, insinuating himself between her legs.

  “I’m not hurting you…?”

  “No. Oh, Daniel, please. Now.”

  Even before he entered her, heat pooled between her legs and her skin tingled all over, forecasting what she knew was going to be an explosive orgasm.

  She threw one leg over the back of the sofa, opening herself to him. She was wet and ready for him, her whole body throbbing with need. Reaching between their bodies, she grasped his erection. They both groaned as she guided him into her. But it wasn’t as if he couldn’t find her on his own. He pushed inside, paused, pushed deeper, paused.

  She was hyperventilating, and she forced herself to clamp her mouth shut, breathing through her nose as he took possession of her, sheathing himself even more deeply, and she spread her legs wider to give him full access.

  He was nearly nose to nose with her, and he looked deeply into her eyes. “Jamie.”

  That one word was a powerful aphrodisiac. It said he knew to whom he was making love, that she wasn’t some interchangeable collection of female body parts.

  He withdrew almost all the way until she whimpered, then plunged inside again, his stroke hard and swift this time. After a few moments, unless she’d lost track of time altogether, he paused again, still struggling for control and driving her to the brink of insanity.

  She deliberately moved against him.

  “No wiggling.”

  “Do that again, Daniel.”

  “Only if you want this to end way too soon.”

  She never wanted it to end. “Then take your time.” Still, he repeated the long withdraw, and again plunged inside until it felt as if he were reaching down into her core and touching parts of her psyche that had lain dormant her whole life until now. Frothy emotions bubbled up inside her, uncontrollable yet strangely pleasant.

  Eventually he found the control he’d been striving for and began to stroke her in earnest, working her into a frenzy.

  This wasn’t sex. It was a slow stairway to heaven, not even on the same plane as any encounters in her past.

  Daniel’s strokes intensified, and what had started as a leisurely stroll turned into an Olympic sprint. When she finally couldn’t take the tension a moment longer she relaxed her body with a whimper, giving over complete control.

  The pleasure was the most intense she’d ever felt as tingles rippled from her core outward in wave after crashing wave.

  Daniel released the grip on his self-control and tensed, his whole body rigid. Jamie wrapped her arms and legs around him, practically absorbing his climax along with him.

  Gradually she became aware of their physical surroundings again—the feel of the leather against her naked bottom, the afternoon’s winter light spilling through the blinds and that blasted deer head looking down on her.

  Idiot. What have you done?

  Their bodies were slick with sweat, as if they’d just run a marathon. Physically she was exhausted, spent down to the last penny. She wondered how in the world she would put her clothes on and stroll out of this room as if nothing had happened.

  But she would. Gossip about her and Daniel would get back to her office like wildfire and kill her career. If anything was left of her career.

  Daniel eased himself off her, swinging her legs over the side of the sofa, sitting down, then pulling her against him.

  Cuddling. Nice touch.

  “You wanted to tell me something?”

  Of course he would remember. “It was good for me, too.”

  He laughed. “Sorry. But I was rude to put you off so abruptly. It seemed like it was important to you and my lust got the better of my manners.”

  Now wasn’t the time. “It wasn’t im
portant.”

  Maybe he didn’t have to know. If she didn’t tell him, no one else would. No one knew.

  “Would you mind if I dressed?” she asked. “I feel really odd, knowing your house is crawling with servants. I mean, what if the house really does catch fire and someone has to run in here to save our lives?”

  “You get used to servants. But go ahead. As long as I can watch.”

  She felt slightly self-conscious—which was ridiculous, given what they’d just shared—as she pulled on panties and bra, pants, shirt, all while Daniel observed appreciatively.

  “Not quite as interesting going on as they were coming off, but not bad.”

  When she was dressed, he quickly donned his own clothes, his movements graceful and economical. He was right, it was fun to watch.

  “Now what?” she asked. She had no expectations. Really, none.

  “I have a luxurious apartment on the third floor where I install all my lovers. You’ll have everything you need, and your only responsibility will be to please me.”

  The shock must have showed on her face, because he laughed. “Jamie. God, what you must think of me. I’m kidding. You act like I have all the answers, and I haven’t got a clue. I was hoping you’d tell me.”

  “Unfortunately, I think we have to pretend this never happened. We’re professionally involved.” Why was she saying this? Was she making a preemptive strike so he couldn’t reject her first? She didn’t want to go back to their previous amicable but strained way of being around each other.

  But lying down in the path of a herd of runaway cattle wasn’t her style, either.

  The look he gave her was inscrutable. “Fine. Once you get official word of the DNA results, we’ll decide together how to proceed.”

  “Okay, but keep in mind, if you want me publicly connected to this thing, I’ll soon be a disgraced and jobless former prosecutor.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be so sure. If there’s anything I can do to shore up your professional reputation, I’ll do it. But presented in the right light, I think you can come up smelling like roses. You took the courageous step to right an injustice, and you’ll catch a serial killer in the bargain.”

  It sounded good when he put it that way.

  “I’ll wait to hear from you.”

  Jamie went into the half bath off the library to repair her appearance. Thank God she’d tucked a hairbrush and her travel makeup bag into her purse.

  She could fix the wild-looking hair and the smeared lipstick and straighten her clothes, but she couldn’t take the roses out of her cheeks. Try as she might, when she looked in the mirror, she still looked like a woman who’d just enjoyed an afternoon of passion.

  “One more thing,” Daniel said when she rejoined him. He was still barefoot and his hair was mussed from her digging her fingers through it.

  In fact, he looked so good that she could easily have jumped him again—if she’d been a woman of little self-control.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “Can you come to the holiday party?”

  “Isn’t it just for the Project Justice employees?”

  “And their families, close friends and a few key associates. You qualify.”

  As a friend or key associate?

  “If it’s important to you. Jillian won’t like your adding me to the guest list. She’s probably planned a sit-down dinner with seating arrangements.”

  “Jillian is my employee. She’ll deal with it.”

  Jamie smiled. “All right. I’ll come, then.” It might be difficult and slightly awkward, but how could she say no to the man who had just pleasured her so fiercely?

  JAMIE GOT TO WORK EARLY the next day, hoping to make some sense of her in-box and her phone messages before her official workday began. But the first thing she saw was a note smack in the middle of her desk. It was written in angry capital letters on Winston Chubb’s personal notepaper: SEE ME.

  That really didn’t sound good.

  He wasn’t in yet, so Jamie had a few minutes to get worked up about what he wanted. Had he found out about her consorting with Daniel?

  I’ve done nothing wrong. She’d investigated on her own time, off the county payroll, and she’d taken no official action.

  But she’d gone directly against what her boss had told her to do. Winston would see it as a frontal assault to his authority, and it would not be pretty.

  When she heard his voice from the hallway, floating over the partitions into her tiny cubicle office, her stomach flipped. She had to get this over with.

  She made sure her clothes were straight and she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth. Then she charged off to his office, ready to defend her actions.

  “He wanted to see me right away,” she explained to Alice, Winston’s admin.

  “Go on back,” Alice said with an uncharacteristic smile and wink, as if she knew something Jamie didn’t know.

  Jamie tapped on Winston’s door, and he summoned her inside.

  “Ah, Jamie. Just who I wanted to see. Have a seat.”

  He was smiling. Why was he smiling? Surely he wouldn’t take that much pleasure in firing her.

  “As you know, Jamie, this is my last term as Harris County district attorney. I’ll be retiring in May.”

  “In May? Your term isn’t up until September.”

  “I have personal reasons for leaving office early, but that’s immaterial. The county already has a special election scheduled for April, and the people are going to vote in a new D.A. I’m thinking that person should be you.”

  Oh, boy. This really wasn’t what she’d expected.

  “You look surprised.”

  “To say the least. When you mentioned the possibility before, I assumed you meant far into the future.”

  “With my endorsement, you’d be a shoo-in. You’re a little young for the job, I’ll admit, and you and I have had our run-ins, but when I look around this office, you’re the one who’s most capable of doing the job.”

  “I’m flattered.” For a few seconds, she let herself fantasize about it. Harris County District Attorney Jamie McNair. Her father would be so proud…

  No, her father wouldn’t give a rat’s ass. It was time for her to concede that the man had been a narcissist, and anything that didn’t directly concern him didn’t make a blip on his personal radar screen. His only reason for giving her career advice was so that she could be a reflection of him, a “mini-me” he could someday brag about to his big-shot friends, if she distinguished herself.

  “Good. I’ve set up a meeting with my campaign people—they’re ready to gear up the ‘Jamie McNair for District Attorney’ machine as soon as you sign on the dotted line. Are you free on Friday after work?”

  Friday evening was Daniel’s party. Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t even consider running for D.A., not when a big fat PR nightmare was about to hit the fan.

  “Winston, I’m honored, really. But there’s something you need to know, and you won’t like it.”

  His eyebrows flew up. “What? Is there a skeleton in your closet I don’t know about? Child out of wedlock? Illicit affair with the county sheriff?”

  He was kidding, because he believed her to be of sterling character. She was about to change his mind.

  “I prosecuted an innocent man and sent him to death row.”

  “Oh, God, not the Christopher Gables thing. Is Project Justice actually pursuing that case?”

  “Yes, and I’m afraid they’ve come up with some definitive evidence. DNA links the murder of Frank Sissom with another similar crime for which Gables is in no way connected, and for which he has an ironclad alibi.”

  “And you know this…how?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I’ve been working with Project Justice during my off hours. I had to know, Winston. I had to know if Gables was innocent. And I firmly believe he is.”

  “You’re going to trash the reputation of this office—my reputation—because you were curious? Is that how you w
ant me to leave office? Disgraced?”

  “It’s my reputation. I take full responsibility.”

  “You certainly better.” He stood up, and for one insane moment she thought he was going to leap across his desk and go for her throat.

  “We could take a courageous stand,” she said in one last-ditch effort to get him to understand. “We made a mistake. We’re taking responsibility for it and righting an injustice. And we may actually be able to bring the real killer—in two murder cases—to justice.”

  “You made a mistake,” he corrected her. “I told you to block Project Justice, and you’ve assisted them instead. I’ll expect your letter of resignation on my desk by noon.”

  “You don’t even want to see how this plays out?”

  “I already know. We’re going to look bad, the media is going to have a field day and my last days in office are going to be a living hell. Thank you, Ms. McNair.”

  Fine, if that was how he wanted to view the situation.

  She stood. “I’ve done nothing wrong and I won’t resign. You’ll have to fire me.”

  “Yes, that would look better. Consider it done.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DANIEL HAD SO MUCH ENERGY, he couldn’t stay inside. Giving the briefest of excuses to Jillian, he set off for the stables, intending to give Laramie as well as himself some exercise.

  Usually he grabbed a golf cart for transportation to the stables, but today he walked—partly to discourage Jillian from following him, which she was inclined to do if she felt he was neglecting some portion of the schedule she arranged for him.

  She wouldn’t be able to negotiate the wet grass in the high-heeled shoes she perpetually wore.

  He was only now beginning to see the degree to which he had allowed Jillian to dictate his life. He’d thought of it as a convenience—one of the privileges his money afforded him. But it had become a weakness.

  He had imagined that his lifestyle gave him complete control. But he’d turned over control to everybody else. Even his meals were planned by Claude. Oh, sure, he could request something, but when it came right down to it, Claude cooked what Claude wanted to cook.