“Not at all,” Frank replied. “So, Mr Fox-Whittingham. What can I help you with?”
12
Jayne sat in the corner of a coffee shop, waiting for Detective Chief Superintendent Mike Wilson. She twiddled with her necklace and glanced at her watch. Mike was late. It wasn’t unusual, but that day his tardiness irritated her. And she knew exactly why.
Jayne didn’t get involved with clients. She kept a professional distance, courteous but businesslike. The minute she asked Mike for a favour in relation to Rupe’s case, he’d see right through her, and then the questions would start—questions that Jayne didn’t have an answer to.
Rupert Fox-Whittingham had done the impossible: he’d snuck beneath Jayne’s carefully constructed outer shell. And the worst thing was that he hadn’t even had to try very hard. So much for her swearing off men—except she and Rupe were a nonstarter. Relationships between clients and their lawyers weren’t forbidden, but they weren’t seen as entirely ethical either.
Despite all that, there was something about him, something special and unique that called to a part of Jayne she had buried deep inside. But she couldn’t allow him to plough those depths. Rupe was a danger to every promise she’d made to herself. She’d given her heart and soul away to someone who should have cherished her. Instead, Kyle had taken that gift and destroyed it.
And in the process, her self-esteem and self-worth had taken a hell of a battering.
“Jayne, hi.” Mike waved from the doorway of the coffee shop and indicated he was going to get a drink. A few minutes later, he made his way over to her, balancing a latte on a saucer while trying to negotiate the tightly packed-in tables.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he placed the drink on the table and managed to spill a good portion of the contents. “Dammit.” He looked around and spotted the condiment station. He returned with a wad of napkins and mopped up the spillage.
“Sorry,” he said again. “Awful morning. Jenna was sick all over me, so I had to get changed. Babies.” He rolled his eyes.
Jayne laughed. “How old is she now? Eight, nine months?”
“Eleven months. Can’t believe it’s gone so quickly.”
“Wow, eleven. Time flies.”
Mike nodded. “It’s been a hell of a ride. You should try it.” And then he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Shit. Sorry, Jayne. I’m such a dick. My mind is all over the place.”
“It’s fine. Old news now.”
“Hardly. Nine months is no time at all. How’s the divorce going, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Jayne grimaced. “It’s proving a little tricky.”
“Kyle being a knob?”
Jayne laughed. “You could say that.”
“Never liked him much,” Mike said. “Shifty eyes.”
Jayne laughed again, despite being surprised. In all the time she’d known Mike, he’d never once mentioned disliking her husband. “You’ve been a copper too long, Mike.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He swept a hand over his tired face. “Only a mere ten years to go until I can draw my pension.”
“Counting down already? That’s not good.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I love my job, but now we’ve got Jenna.” He shrugged. “Kind of reorganises your priorities.”
“I’m sure it does,” Jayne murmured as a wave of regret washed over her. Although she’d never thought about kids—too busy building a career—the fact that she might never have them caused an agonising surge to swell within her. She’d once read some psychobabble about not wanting something until the choice was taken away from you—and then the thing you thought you didn’t want became the one most prevalent in your mind.
Mike must have noticed her sad face because he closed a hand over hers. “You’ll meet someone else, Jayne. Kyle wasn’t the one for you, but the right man is out there somewhere.”
Jayne slowly removed her hand from beneath Mike’s—although not so fast as to cause offence. His wry smile didn’t escape her notice.
“I didn’t mean me. Ten years is a long time, Jayne. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m happily married now.”
A flush swept up Jayne’s neck and crept over her cheeks. “I know. I’m sorry, Mike. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He leaned back in his chair, the movement clearly meant to give her space. “So what can I do for you?”
Jayne removed a file from her bag. She didn’t need the reminder. The contents were firmly fixed in her mind, but referring to the file would show a modicum of professionalism, which might be her saving grace and a way to avoid a grilling.
She opened the file. “I’ve got a client who’s up on a murder charge. Woman in her twenties died of a heroin overdose. My client was the last to see her alive, so naturally, he’s the number-one suspect.”
“What are you doing covering a criminal case?”
Jayne grimaced. “It’s a long story. I did Darren a favour, and now the client doesn’t want to switch lawyers. I am capable of providing good counsel.”
“I know you are. You’re more than capable of turning your hand to anything you choose.”
“Thanks,” she said with a small smile. “Although I’d appreciate your support on this one. The police reckon they’ve got a witness who swears he sold my client a half kilo of heroin the night before the woman died.”
Mike tapped his fingers against his mouth. “Sounds flaky to me.” He held his hand out for the file. Jayne pushed it across the table to him, and Mike began to read—his finger tracing each sentence as he carefully absorbed each word. When he’d finished, he handed the file back to her. “I’m not surprised the judge gave him bail. It’s all very circumstantial. I’m intrigued as to why the CPS agreed to take it to court.”
“That’s what I thought, except the detective in charge seems determined to push it.”
“Who’s the senior investigative officer?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ve been dealing with a Detective Fisher. He’s the one who performed the initial questioning and subsequently charged my client.”
“Fisher.” Mike scratched his cheek. “He’s not one of mine.”
“No. The case is being dealt with by Kennington nick. The death occurred on their patch. But I’m hoping you can help me out regardless. I’m after whatever information you can find on the husband.”
Mike nodded. “They aren’t showing an interest in him?”
“So far, no. They’ve questioned him, but he has an alibi—whereas my client was in bed with the deceased when she passed. I’m convinced he didn’t do it, and I will not let an innocent man be dragged through the courts because some overzealous detective wants to peddle a grudge against rich people.”
Mike narrowed his eyes. “Something you want to tell me, Jayne?”
Jayne kept her expression nonchalant. “What do you mean?”
Mike’s fingers drummed on the table, his gaze firmly fixed on hers. “How long have we known each other?”
She frowned. “Twelve years.”
“Correct. And in all that time, I’ve never known you get so passionate, so defensive, over a case.”
“He’s innocent.”
“He may well be.” Mike’s gaze skimmed over her face. “Don’t get involved, Jayne.”
Jayne picked up the file and slotted it into her bag. She got to her feet. “Thanks for coming, Mike. I know how busy you are.”
“Jayne.” He wrapped a hand around her wrist as she drew level with him. “Be careful.”
Jayne stiffened her spine. “Anything you can find out to help me on this case will be gratefully received, Mike. Poking your nose into my personal life will not be.”
She tugged her wrist from his grip and swept past him into the street. As luck would have it, a cab was passing, and Jayne flagged it down. As it drove away, she spotted Mike standing outside the coffee shop, wearing a puzzled look. She groaned. She knew Mike too well. That wouldn’t be the end of his prying, despite her sharp r
eprimand.
13
Rupe picked at his meal, hating every minute of it. Two days had passed since he’d been charged, and during that time, he’d barely seen a soul. He’d never minded the idea of a solitary existence, although in reality, he’d always been surrounded by people. This alien feeling had more to do with his inability to do as he liked because of the damned sign-in at the police station every fricking day.
A sudden urge to see Jayne swept through him. He hadn’t heard from her since Monday, and while he could lie to himself and say the real reason for needing to see her was to find out if she’d heard any more on his case, the truth was that without her, he felt as if he’d had a limb amputated. She could push him away all she wanted and toss out lame excuses as to why they couldn’t have a relationship, but until she said those things with conviction, he still had a shot at persuading her to give him a chance.
He threw the remains of his dinner in the waste bin and grabbed his wallet and keys. He made a couple of stops on the way over to Jayne’s apartment and, an hour later, found himself standing outside, holding a bottle of wine and a large bouquet of flowers. The last time he’d tried to give Jayne flowers, it hadn’t worked out so well. Still, second time lucky and all that.
He knocked on the door and waited. A few seconds later, Jayne opened it and let out an exasperated sigh. “Can’t you take a hint?”
He thrust the flowers at her and sauntered inside. “I’m fine with hints. It’s blatant warnings that I find a challenge. Something about being told no just makes me want to work harder at persuading you to say yes.”
He removed a couple of wine glasses from the kitchen cupboard and poured full measures of the crisp Chablis, one of his favourites from Fortnum’s. When he turned around, Jayne was still standing by the door, a vexed look on her face.
“You can’t simply come around here unannounced whenever you feel like it.”
“I did announce,” he said, walking back into the living area of her apartment. “I texted you, and I knocked just then.”
Jayne strode towards a nearby table and snatched up her phone. She frowned at the screen before turning her trademark glare on him. “You are the most exasperating man I’ve ever met.”
Rupe clutched his chest. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. I think I’m in love.”
Jayne made a noise that sounded remarkably like a growl. Rupe grinned. “Here, darling, have a glass of wine. Take the edge off your temper.”
She snatched the glass from his hand and dumped the flowers in the sink. Then she turned around and pressed her ramrod-straight back against the wall on the far side of the kitchen as though to put distance between them and anchor herself at the same time.
“What do you want, Rupert?”
He tilted his head to one side. “You.”
She sighed, but her face did soften slightly. “We’ve had this conversation.”
“No,” Rupe replied. “We haven’t. You told me it’s a no-no, and I’ve decided to ignore you.” He set his wine down on a side table and casually walked towards her. After removing the glass from her clenched fist, he reached into her hair.
“What are you doing?” she said although she didn’t stop him.
Rupe ignored her and began to remove the bobby pins holding her updo in place. When he’d removed every one, he ruffled her hair and draped the golden locks over her shoulders. “Better. Makes you much less austere.”
“I prefer professional,” she bit back, making him chuckle.
He picked up her wine glass and took her hand in his before leading her over to the couch. The expected resistance didn’t come, and as Rupe sat down, tugging Jayne beside him, he pressed the glass back into her hand and reached around for his own.
“I know you’ve been hurt, Jayne, but not all men are like Kyle. Please don’t shut yourself off from possibilities simply because you chose the wrong one first time around.”
She drew her teeth across her bottom lip, causing his eyes to drift to her mouth. “This is about the fact that you’re my client, not my crumbling marriage.”
“You can lie to yourself all you want, but there is nothing to stop us having a relationship if that’s what we want to do. You’re using the client-lawyer argument as a way of avoiding the fact that you’re attracted to me. Don’t deny it,” he said, holding his hand up as she began to speak. “I know, Jayne. I see it. I feel it.”
She froze as he gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
“Take a risk. Might turn out to be the best thing you’ve ever done.”
He leaned in—slowly, because he got the feeling that if he moved too quickly, she’d scarper like a deer hearing a twig snap in the woods. He gently cupped her chin and, with the softest of touches, brushed his lips over hers. His stomach clenched as electricity sparked between them. When she didn’t pull away, he edged closer. His hand curved around the back of her neck, and he drew her mouth to his, deepening the kiss. Blood rushed to his groin so fast his head began to spin. Dear God, he’d never experienced a reaction like that to a first kiss.
A low groan eased from his throat. He kept one hand firmly around her neck. His other moved to her waist. Encouraged by her acceptance of his mouth on hers, he ran the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip.
She tore away and scrambled to her feet. With her arms wrapped around her body, she hugged herself. “I’d like you to leave please.”
Rupe frowned. “What did I do?”
“I told you. I don’t want this, and I don’t want you. Now, please leave. I have work to do. On your case,” she added forcefully.
“Jayne.” Rupe reached for her as he got to his feet.
Her hand shot up, palm facing him. “I said go.”
Rupe shook his head. He turned to leave but then paused and faced her once more. She hadn’t moved from the same spot, her arms still protectively around her body.
“You might be doing your best to ignore what’s happening between us, but at some point, you’re going to have to face your feelings. All it takes is a touch of bravery. Dig deep, Jayne, because I’m going nowhere.”
Jayne almost reopened her apartment door after Rupe had left just so she could slam it. His reasonableness at her rejection of his advances was frustrating as hell. She’d expected him to argue, to try to persuade her, to do something. Instead, he’d simply backed away and done as she asked.
The problem was she didn’t want him to back away. Not really. But fear of her growing feelings for a virtual stranger had made her backpedal at an alarming rate. She couldn’t get involved with a client. Her career and her morals were all she had left, not to mention that Rupert Fox-Whittingham had absolutely no integrity. He’d been sleeping with a married woman, for goodness’ sake. Men like him hurt women like her.
She touched her fingertips to her lips. Even though she’d sensed him holding back, that brief kiss had given her a glimpse into what he was capable of. Her core tightened as she relived the moment, but at the back of her mind, an insistent voice kept telling her to reject him.
Even if she could get past the complication of Rupe being a client, it was far too soon to think about starting a new relationship—wasn’t it? Nine months wasn’t long at all, although when she had more honest conversations with herself, she could admit that her marriage to Kyle had broken down long before his affair with Flick. The signs of her reluctance to be around him had been there—her preference to stay at work rather than go home, or the way she took on extra cases, which meant having to work weekends. And even when she finished early, she would take the long way back to their apartment, occasionally getting off the tube three or four stops early and walking the rest of the way.
Jayne covered her face with her hands and rubbed hard. It had been so long since anyone had shown her any tenderness that she’d forgotten how addictive it could be. Already, she was craving more of it, and that was a dangerous road to begin travelling down.
Despite the early hour
, Jayne headed off to bed. She took Rupe’s case files with her as though they somehow brought him closer. She reread all of the statements, including going over Rupe’s three times. There had to be something that she was missing.
Frustrated, she stuffed the papers back into the folder and dropped it on the floor. She burrowed under the covers and closed her eyes, but then her phone rang. She cursed as she slipped a hand from beneath the quilt and felt around for it.
“What?” she snapped without even looking at the caller ID.
“I’m just calling to say goodnight.”
Rupe’s gentle voice soothed her, and she curled onto her side and pressed the phone harder to the side of her head, creating a greater connection between them. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, dampening her pillow. Something in his voice made her want to bawl her eyes out, to beg him to come over. But she couldn’t do it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jayne.”
Even though they had no professional reason to do such a thing, Jayne found herself saying, “Yes, Rupe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
14
Rupe entered the coffee shop, immediately spotting Kyle sitting at a small, round table squished in the corner. The man flashed an irritated look at his watch. Rupe inwardly grinned. He’d purposely kept Kyle waiting. For all Rupe gave a shit, the fucker could wait all day.
Rupe sidled through the tables and pulled out the chair opposite Kyle, the scraping noise causing him to raise his head.
“You’re late,” Kyle snapped.
Rupe eased into the chair, legs splayed wide. “That looks painful.” He gave a false smile and tilted his head at Kyle’s busted nose and black eyes.
Kyle glowered. “It is, which is why you’re going to pay.”
Rupe kept his body loose. “Now, now. That’s no way to begin a negotiation.”
“Your choice. I can always still go to the police.”
Mismatch: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 4) (A Winning Ace Novel) Page 8