WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN

by Bonnie K. Winn

  Rattled, she took her place and tried to concentrate on her notes. Instead, the words swam together as the fragrance from the flower wafted through the otherwise-stale air of the courtroom, evoking thoughts of rain-washed gardens and soft-smelling sheets. Why did that come to mind?

  Damn the man. Did he have to play such dirty pool? Once she'd been a fool for sentimental gestures. Playing the hard-and-fast games of corporate law had dulled her ability to be affected, but now, in an instant, he'd sharpened, reawakened that response.

  Suddenly she remembered the summer she was eighteen, how all those feelings had overwhelmed her, taken over her life. Since then she'd been determined not to let that happen again. But now, dealing with an emptiness she couldn't explain, some part of her longed again for those feelings.

  Sneaking a glance at Kenneth, she saw that his expression wasn't mocking or knowing. Instead it was thoughtful, musing, as though perhaps he could be lost in some memories of his own.

  Barbara straightened, tucking the rose a tad closer as Dani approached moments before the judge took the bench. The day's proceedings got underway and for the first time, Barbara was impatient for the day to pass.

  As the hours crawled by, she became more and more restless. She needed to get away from that sharp green-eyed glance to examine her unexpected reactions.

  And the judge provided the perfect opportunity.

  "Miss Callister, Mr. Gerrard. We're approaching the noon hour. Due to the lengthy and unexpected briefs you both filed this morning, we will adjourn until Monday morning."

  Escape on her mind, Barbara scooped papers haphazardly into her briefcase.

  "Strange, you don't strike me as the kind of person who's so disorganized," Kenneth commented, cocking his head to one side as he studied her.

  Willing the flush she felt mounting in her cheeks to disappear, Barbara consciously slowed her movements, aligning her papers into neat stacks before sliding them inside the leather attaché case. "Just in a hurry."

  "Like a kid let out of school?" he responded with an infectious grin.

  Part of her wanted to shout "Yes!" But the more responsible, ingrained part of her simply sighed. "Mr. Gerrard, I'm sure you have a good deal of work to do, as well."

  "Kenneth." His lips curved as he reached out to still her hands. "Surely after last night we're on a first-name basis."

  Eyes riveted on his long, tapered fingers, she sucked in her breath at his casual touch. Then shook away the thought. "A mistake. One I won't repeat."

  His grin broadened. "I'm wounded. I thought we'd broken that ice rather effectively."

  Thawed, melted and boiled. But she wasn't going to admit it.

  "Mr. Gerrard, I'm sure you'll want to take advantage of our long break, so I'll—"

  "You're right. I want to get started right away. What do you recommend?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "This is your town, Barbara. What do you suggest? Hiking? Mountain climbing? Or a lazy picnic near the lake?"

  "A lot of hard work," she replied, tamping down an unexpected longing for a weekend of pure play. How long had it been since she'd indulged herself? Too long, since she couldn't remember the last time she'd thrown caution to the wind, put her work on a back burner and strictly played.

  But you can't play with him, a merciless inner voice reminded her.

  "Tsk, tsk," Kenneth replied, reaching out to cup her chin. "All work and no play makes Barbara a dull girl."

  Resisting the desire to lean into his hold, she swallowed an unreasonably large lump that formed in her throat. The dimple in his cheek flashed and evoked some forgotten memory, feeling. He leaned against the table, trapping her into the small, surprisingly intimate space. At some level she was aware that the courtroom had emptied. Even Dani had deserted her, muttering something about catching some rays before they disappeared. "I'm a dedicated professional, Mr. Ger—"

  "Kenneth," he insisted.

  "And I don't take my cases lightly," she finished as though he hadn't interrupted.

  "Strange, I don't think I said I did, either." His smile didn't diminish, but shifted to an expression she hadn't seen before. "Are you telling me that you never drop your briefs and have a good time?"

  Her lips nearly twitched at the reference, but she sensed he was dangerous. In more ways than just as an adversary. Something about him told her that he wouldn't be content with just a good time. He wanted to dig beneath the surface, uncover more than she was willing to reveal to anyone.

  "That's right. I guess I'm just a dull girl."

  "Oh, I don't think so. Somewhere beneath that steel-belted suit and tightly pinned-up hair, I suspect there's a cyclone ready to break out." He reached up to touch her neat chignon – not a dowdy bun, but a fashionable upsweep.

  Yet he made her long to pull the pins out and shake her hair free just to show him… She drew herself up. What was she thinking? She needed to show him that she wouldn't be caught unawares again, or spun under one of his nonsensical spells. That she held the ethics of her profession in high esteem, that she would never consider jeopardizing them. Still, she didn't immediately pull away as his fingers trailed over her hair.

  "Mr.—"

  "I thought we'd settled that."

  Exasperated, she managed to move away. "All right. I'll call you Kenneth, if you'll keep your hands to yourself."

  His grin tipped upward, demonstrating his amusement. "You don't enjoy it?"

  She guessed her flush was deepening since she could feel the warmth in her cheeks. "Of course I don't." The lie stuck like a lump of undissolved peanut butter in her mouth.

  He took his time in removing his hands, but then to her dismay he used one to pick up her briefcase.

  "I'm perfectly capable of carrying that myself." She reached for the burgundy leather case but he held it just out of reach.

  "Of course you are. So am I. Want to wrestle for it?"

  Glancing up, Barbara considered it, then saw the watching eyes of the court clerk who waited to lock up the room. Gritting her teeth, she forced a smile. "That would be a nice follow-up to my Oscar performance last night. You win. For now."

  A satisfied grin lurked at the corners of his mouth, but he kept his comments to himself. Until they reached the street and then he took the lead. "It's this way."

  Her long legs easily kept up with the pace, despite her annoyance. "What's this way?"

  But he'd stopped in front of a bright red convertible. "This." Before she could react, he unlocked the trunk and deposited her briefcase and his own inside, then snapped the lid shut.

  "Why'd you do that?" she demanded. Enough was enough.

  He shrugged. "I figured I needed some ransom to kidnap you."

  "In a minute you're going to need a lawyer of your own because I'm going to call a cop."

  His head was shaking. "And be caught consorting with the enemy? What would your client say?"

  That stopped her. "But this was your idea."

  "Pity, isn't it? After you finished explaining, it would still look bad." The mischievous but victorious expression on his face made her want to throw something at him, but the only thing she had left was her purse and she wouldn't put it past him to keep that, too.

  "First order of the day is to get something to eat, an early dinner," he announced. "And I hear that La Caille is just the place."

  She could have groaned aloud. The romantic getaway was a replica of a French château, from the charming restaurant down to the bridge-covered duck pond. Hardly the place for a quick dinner.

  Barbara remained steadfastly silent, determined to ignore her handsome companion as they drove out of downtown and then onto the freeway. She could have pointed out some of the sights they passed, but she chose to ignore them. If he was boorish enough to steal her briefcase, she was stubborn enough not to enjoy the ride.

  In quick time he came to the nearly hidden arched entrance that was set back in the canyon. A breathtaking backdrop of snow-capped alpine mountains stretched d
irectly beyond the entrance as though they'd been placed there exclusively as a backdrop for La Caille's impressive grounds.

  She glanced at him suspiciously. "You seem to know your way around awfully well."

  "I got directions," he replied cheerfully. "Pays to ask the right people." He glanced over at her, apparently seeing her skepticism. "Actually I've been wanting to visit the area for some time. I checked things out pretty thoroughly before I got here, and this was one of the places I wanted to be sure to go."

  "And you've already had time to meet the 'right' people?"

  "Mostly at the hotel," he admitted. "The bell captain's a wealth of information, but I've gotten the best info so far from the chef."

  "The chef?" she echoed, surprised.

  "I complimented him on the first incredible meal I ate in his dining room." Kenneth shrugged his shoulders. "And he didn't mind pointing out the best of his competition in the area."

  Barbara wondered about a man who could turn on the charm so easily, as he pulled into the circle drive where a valet waited to take the car. Did he have enough charm to make her forget her ideals, compromise her client's interests?

  Kenneth didn't head toward the restaurant, instead taking her elbow and guiding her toward the outlying grounds where peacocks strolled majestically amid exotic breeds of birds and red-topped roosters that crowed importantly. Llamas nibbled in the lush greenery close to the groundskeeper's cottage.

  Genuine down to the last detail, it was easy to believe the château and its accompanying acres had been transported from France. Caught up in the beauty, Barbara allowed Kenneth to lead her toward the tranquil pond where ducks and swans lent a graceful air. Seemingly unconcerned about his Armani trousers, Kenneth dropped down on to the wooden plank of the footbridge.

  It was easy to forget that less than an hour ago they'd been in downtown Salt Lake. Protected by the high walls of the canyon and the mountains towering overhead, they seemed far removed from the city.

  Unconsciously, Barbara released a pent-up breath and felt some of the tension in her shoulders dissipate.

  "I was wondering when you'd relax," Kenneth commented quietly.

  "Sorry. Kidnapping ups my stress level."

  "I don't know. From where I'm sitting, it looks like it takes some of it away."

  Barbara cast her gaze around the peaceful setting, then kicked off her shoes and let her stocking feet sink into the cool grass. Disregarding the skirt of her expensive suit, she joined him. The swans didn't so much as blink at their unexpected company, instead gliding unperturbed across the water. The call of singing birds was the only sound in the muted area, protected from wayward noise by the canyon walls and nestling mountains.

  Barbara watched the graceful swans. "I must be crazy, sitting here with you when you've hijacked my briefcase that holds the work I should be doing right now."

  "You have to eat," he reminded her. "Why can't it be someplace like this instead of the requisite power meal? Or even worse, a TV dinner?"

  She winced, knowing that's exactly what she would have chosen. Her freezer was full of the beastly little things. One thing the frozen food companies couldn't package was atmosphere. And this place fairly reeked of it. "Still high-handed of you to assume I have the time to come here."

  "Why? Is someone waiting for you?"

  An unreadable expression had crossed his face as he asked the question. If asked to name it, Barbara would have guessed it was apprehension. But that couldn't be it. She moved restlessly. "Not really, but that–"

  "No boyfriend?"

  She shook her head.

  "Fiancé?"

  "No. However—"

  "And you can't be married, since your name's Callister."

  She looked up sharply. "How do you know that's my maiden name?"

  He smiled disarmingly. "Good guess. Actually, I was still fishing and you fell for the bait."

  Her own smile was cocky. "Careful, or that rod might pull you into the water along with whatever you catch."

  "Forewarned is forearmed." He stood up easily and reached his hand out for her. "And since we're too close to water for comfort, I think it's about time we feed you."

  "Me?"

  "You get cranky when you're not fed, I can tell. Threatening to push perfectly nice men into the water—"

  "Perfectly nice men don't kidnap ladies."

  He drew closer to her, his face inches from hers, the tick in his jaw pulsing, the heat from his body flowing toward hers. "And ladies know when to give in gracefully."

  Her heart thumped erratically and Barbara tried to find solid ground, but all she could feel was shifting sand. Sand that threatened to suck her in, bury her.

  Laughing shakily, she broke away, knowing she had to put some distance between them. "Maybe you're right. I think I do need food."

  * * *

  Two hours later, after a leisurely meal that even Barbara had to admit was beyond compare, they pulled up in front of her apartment building. She knew she had to regroup. And to admit to herself that she was using a flimsy excuse to spend time with Kenneth Gerrard. She also knew she couldn't continue doing so without sacrificing her ethics.

  Purposely putting on an overly bright smile, she turned to Ken. "Kidnapping's complete. Now the mission's over."

  "Not quite." Moving with a grace she would have admired if it didn't mean that he'd taken her by surprise again, Ken exited the car and stood next to her door in seconds. "You've really got to decide what we're going to do."

  "About what?"

  "No playing dumb. It's ladies' choice. I'm all yours. Hiking, touring… You name it."

  Quickly she got out of the car. "I'm naming it. Dinner was … nice. But now I've got to get to work. My briefcase please."

  But he was already shaking his head. "I'm surprised at you, Counselor. You didn't negotiate for its return, and from your reputation as a hard hitter I expected a tougher opponent."

  With a sinking feeling, Barbara realized he was serious. And he had her. "Look, Gerrard—"

  "This is your first volley. Don't blow it."

  She exhaled and studied the dancing devilry in his eyes. "I have no obligation to go anywhere with you."

  "You'd let a stranger fend for himself all weekend? No charming lunchtime company? No one to feed the ducks with?" He shook his head without disturbing the cunningly cut locks. "Sounds like cruel and unusual punishment to me."

  "Look, I'm bushed. All I want to do is go inside, sink into a hot tub and soak the week away." It was the truth, even if it was a poor negotiating point.

  "Alone?"

  His husky tone sent an unwanted shiver dancing up her spine. The fact that it did had her stiffening that same spine. "Certainly. I'm not sure what—"

  He held up one hand. "Looks like we can meet halfway. You soak tonight and tomorrow I pick you up bright and early to go hiking. I'll even provide the picnic."

  She narrowed speculative eyes. He really wasn't giving in. "Why do you want to spend time with me? It's not as though we have a great deal in common."

  He swung back toward the driver's side, obscuring his face for a moment before opening the door. "I wouldn't say that, Counselor. We do have a case in common to argue in court." Revving the engine, Kenneth smiled as the car roared to life and he sped away.

  Openmouthed, she stared as he left with her briefcase.

  Fortunately she had locked the case. Hadn't she? Oh, that portended for a calm, stress-free evening. Wondering if he would be reading all her notes, her strategies. For all the diligence of her careful climb to an important position in her firm, she'd just acted like a first-class idiot. And she'd handed all her ammo to the enemy.

  * * *

  Kenneth let himself into the hotel room, struck by its sterile environment. Not that it should resemble a home, but seeing Barbara again made him long for a home. He pictured her with a happy, gurgling baby in her arms, an Irish setter at her feet, wearing a welcoming smile for the one she loved.

 
; Releasing a gusty sigh, he knew that was an unrealistic picture. Foremost, he wasn't the one she loved. And it was clear she'd changed. She wasn't a soft, pliable girl anymore. She was a woman who knew her mind. He wondered just how rigid the barricades she'd erected had become.

  It was clear she didn't recognize him. He had seen snippets of uncertainty in her eyes a few times, but nothing like the overwhelming whoosh of gut feeling that had nearly flattened him when he'd first seen her. It had taken every shred of control to grin and flirt. And she'd simply been annoyed.

  It pained him to see that she seemed to be living a life that held no fun, no excitement. From what he'd discovered beforehand, he knew she was an attorney married to her career. But he thought there would be more, that she would have insisted on more. Before he left, he meant to see those tension lines dissolve while she rediscovered adventure. He just hoped the journey wouldn't kill him. Again.

  * * *

  By morning Barbara was pacing the floor, certain Gerrard had examined everything in her briefcase, using her gullibility to win the case. She'd thought he was attracted to her as she was to him; instead he'd just played her for a fool.

  She doubted he had ever intended to go on any sort of expedition with her that day, only using that excuse as a ploy. Still, she'd dressed in T-shirt and hiking shorts and had packed a backpack. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a minimum of makeup, she knew she didn't resemble Calculating Callister. When the doorbell chimed, she was wondering how "Unemployed Callister" would sound.

  Wiping nervous hands down her hips, she made herself remain calm as she swung open the door.

  And caught her breath.

  If she'd thought Kenneth Gerrard was overwhelming in a well-tailored suit, she didn't know the words to express how those hidden muscles affected her as he waltzed in, long tanned legs rippling with definition. A simple T-shirt, reading Take Me, I'm Yours, exposed impressive biceps while emphasizing that his broad shoulders weren't the product of well-crafted shoulder pads.