by Cox, Chloe
Or maybe it was when he’d caught her staring at those iron rings. Maybe it was the way she’d talked so nakedly about things that terrified her, things that made him think he already knew her. Things that made him think she already knew him, whether she was aware of it or not, which was hands down the strangest experience of his adult life.
Hell, maybe it was just when he first laid eyes on her. He sure as hell hadn’t been able to look at anything else since. Hazel eyes, that dark, reddish hair, soft skin dusted with the lightest freckles you could only see if you were staring at her at a little too closely. Not his usual type at all, but damn beautiful. And the only woman who’d turned his head after all this time.
And she was a closet sub. A closet sub with some issues, but the kind of issues he might know something about.
He shifted his weight again, opened and closed his hands, rolled his neck. He kept having to do that around her just to keep from touching her.
Focus.
“Ford, give us a minute,” he said without looking up.
“I’ll be in the lounge,” Ford said, nodding. “Cate, that’s just up those stairs behind the bar.”
She nodded curtly, her beautiful lips pulled tight in an angry line. Soren thought about all the things he’d rather do with those lips and reined himself in. She had a reason to be pissed.
And he had reasons—many of them—to keep his hands off of her, first and foremost being that he couldn’t afford to let a virgin sub get attached to him, even if they did seem perfectly matched. There weren’t many women who really wanted a no-strings D/s experience. There was absolutely no reason to think she was one of them.
Especially given the intensity of her reactions.
“So is this going to be a problem?” he said.
She didn’t say anything.
“Cate,” he said sharply.
She snapped her head around. He’d known she’d respond to that voice, but it had been a mistake to use it. It gave him a taste.
“I’m trying to decide if you intentionally deceived me,” she said.
“I would never do that.”
“I have no way of knowing that to be true.”
Soren frowned, not liking the distance between them. Not two minutes ago, because of circumstance and fate and whatever else, this woman had let him into a place he was pretty sure no one else had been. Now she felt miles away. Soren walked slowly out from behind the bar, keeping his eyes on hers, liking how she was determined not to look away. He walked up to her bar stool and watched her spin to keep pace with him, her eyes getting wider, her shoulders tense.
He stopped just inches away.
“Look at me. I didn’t think you were really in the dark until just before Ford showed up, when you said you’d never have to see me again,” Soren said. “Look at me so you know I’m telling the truth. I would never do that to anyone.”
Cate licked her lips and swallowed.
“Unfortunately, I’m historically terrible at identifying liars,” she said. “Looking at you isn’t going to help much.”
Much. He thought he caught a little bit of emphasis on that last word, and she smiled briefly. Soren paused, momentarily blindsided by the fact that he was being sexually objectified. Figuring that out did not help.
Control yourself, dude.
“What can I do to fix it?” he asked.
And he meant it. He’d do whatever it took. Including giving her his best puppy-dog eyes, because he really was kind of a bastard.
Cate wasn’t falling for it, at least not willingly. She looked like she wanted to stay mad, but was quickly losing that battle, and then she grinned. And bit her lip.
Goddammit.
“I assume I can count on your discretion?” she asked.
“Of course,” Soren said, forcing himself to look at something besides her lips. Her eyes weren’t much better. What would they look like when she came? “But your interest in this place isn’t as secret as you think. You’re at a meeting at a BDSM club. People make assumptions.”
He felt her intake of breath more than heard it. He still couldn’t take his eyes off her face.
“Be that as it may,” she said. “I need to know you won’t discuss the details of our conversation with anyone.”
“Cate.” He put his hands on either side of her bar stool, his thumbs millimeters away from the outside of her thighs, wishing to God he could touch her. “I would never do that to you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He wanted to say: bullshit. Which was crazy. She was right. He didn’t really know her.
It just felt like he did.
“I know enough to know you shared something private with me. I’m not the kind of guy who takes that lightly. I may be an asshole,” he said, “but I’m not that kind of asshole.”
“What kind are you?”
Soren paused. She was for real? Yeah, that raised eyebrow, that smile peeking out at the corner of her mouth—she was for real. She really didn’t know a damn thing about him.
“Baby, there are whole books about it,” he said, grinning. “Literally, there’s a book. It’s called Savage Hearts.”
He liked to see her laugh. She seemed surprised by it, surprised to feel less afraid. He’d take it.
“Guess I have some reading to do,” she said.
“You’ll learn things that will make this seem like…” Soren paused, mildly amused that it took him this long to think of anything truly innocent. “Like that time the teacher read your note in front of the whole class.”
Cate scoffed. “Never happened.”
“You never passed notes?”
“I never got caught.”
“Too smart for that, huh?”
“By far,” she said, eying him. “But you got caught all the time anyway, didn’t you?”
“How’d you know?” he said, smiling. She was right. He’d gotten in trouble every day.
“Because,” she said, tilting her head, letting her voice drop. “You’d be proud of it.”
Holy shit, maybe she did know him.
Soren watched her in quiet amazement. He was used to controlling the pace, the intensity, even the content of pretty much every conversation he had in his life. The only people who could ever match him and call him out were family: Declan, the lead singer of Savage Heart, Declan’s uncle Jim, who practically raised both of them, and now Molly, the woman Dec was marrying. Dec and Jim just had too much dirt on him, and Molly only pulled it off because she worked at it like it was a part time job.
And now he could apparently add Cate Kennedy to the list, who’d known him for about five minutes, and who was supposed to defend him against charges of being the other kind of asshole.
“Me knowing about you isn’t going to be a problem,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He just wanted her to know it, and to know that he knew it.
Damn, he was playing with fire.
He saw her swallow.
“I guess not,” she said. “Maybe it will help you open up, if you know something about me that no one else knows. Because your lawyer needs to know everything, Soren. I mean everything. Can you do that?”
Soren felt himself smile, even though the more time he spent with this woman, the less certain he was that he could remain professional. “Ford didn’t tell you?”
“What?”
“I have no shame. Hope you’re prepared.”
“You’ve only seen me at my worst,” she said, hopping down off the bar stool in what he now saw were some incredible high heels. She rocked that power suit. Just lethally feminine, even in a suit. “You don’t think I got to be where I am by being a total pushover, do you?”
Something in her voice had changed.
Something was…
Different.
She stood a little taller. Chin up, shoulders back, eyes flashing. Yet still he could see glimpses of the a spses ofwoman who’d clung to him outside, who’d instinctively run and then decided to brave through anyway,
who’d talked to him about abuse and BDSM, who so clearly had a past she wanted to hide. He wanted to know more about that woman, too, not just the one who was about to kick legal ass.
Damn. She really was all kinds of trouble. The truth was that he hadn’t felt anything like this since…
Well, since Julia.
That was dangerous thinking right there. And besides, it was different. He knew that, watching her lead him up to the lounge, taking those long strides, letting her heels strike the floor hard in that warlike rhythm. Yeah, she was the most interesting woman he’d met in a long time. Maybe it felt different because he was older now and he could appreciate it.
That instant connection.
That instant want.
He knew if he touched her again they’d both lose it. Weird way to think about your lawyer, but Ford had insisted there was no one better. Come to think of it, Soren had been expecting someone much older. Everything he knew about big-time lawyers came from his stepfather: old, male, usually drunk, always douchebags. How good did she have to be to rise to the level of partner at her age in an old boys’ club?
If only she wasn’t a newbie. Goddamn. If he thought he could have her without her getting attached…
And the worst part was he knew he could help her through that fear. He knew it too damn well.
“Soren?”
He looked up. Ford was watching him. Cate was watching him. They’d been sitting in Ford’s office for at least five minutes. Soren had no idea what they’d been talking about. He’d been looking at the curve of her thigh as she crossed one leg over the other.
“What?” Soren said, irritated.
“I asked if you wanted to give Cate a rundown of the situation.”
“The situation is bullshit,” Soren said.
Ford glared at him. “No, it’s a problem. Cate, you’re aware of the book Savage Hearts?”
“The tell-all about the band? I haven’t read it yet, but I gather it’s a source of controversy,” she said dryly.
“It’s not Molly’s fault,” Soren said. This still pissed him off. Molly Ward was the woman who’d been picked to write the stupid thing, which was how she’d come into Declan’s life in the first place, and she’d only done her job. The reason Soren came off as a womanizing piece of crap was because he’d behaved like a womanizing piece of crap during the events of the book—his behontok—hiavior had resulted in one woman’s overdose, his best friend Declan’s freak out, and, because Declan was the lead singer of Savage Heart, the temporary break-up of the band.
It wasn’t Molly’s fault that Soren refused to sit for any interviews or allow her to use any of the stuff she’d found out about Soren’s life. Declan and Molly had begged him, but Soren hadn’t seen the point of hurting more people just to make himself look like a little bit less of a jerk. Having the band back together and having Declan back in his life was good enough. Double bonus points that Declan had found Molly in the process.
“Who’s Molly?” Cate asked.
“She’s family. She wrote the truth, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well, the truth has inspired some past conquests to come out of the woodwork,” Ford said. “He was served already. Outside of Volare. Sexual harassment.”
Cate looked at them both. “That’s it?”
“You ever been sued for being a bad person?” Soren asked. “That’s enough, trust me.”
Cate smiled. “No offense, but this would be punching below my weight. You don’t need me for this.”
“They’ve retained Josephs & Cheedham,” Ford said.
Cate sighed. “I see.”
Given his family history, Soren was not a huge fan of lawyers. He especially didn’t like it when they seemed to be speaking another language. He especially didn’t like it when they were speaking in another language about him.
“Anyone going to clarify how, specifically, I’m screwed here?” he said.
“I know Mark Cheedham,” Cate said. “He only gets involved if he thinks there’s going to be a huge payday. I mean huge. I’d bet he has more than one woman willing to sue, and he’s sitting on something. This is just his opening gambit. He won’t win any ethics awards anytime soon, and he loves to play the press. I’m usually competing for cases with him, so this is…”
Cate trailed off, her voice falling. For a moment she looked very far away, very small, the way she had outside when she’d been hiding from that douchebag Patrick Cross. Soren’s Dom sense went nuts.
He could actually see the moment when Cate figured something out.
Dammit, he wanted to know what it was.
“This is surprising,” she finally said. She recrossed her legs, which was distracting enough that Soren almost missed the little furrow in her brow.
Almost.
“So?” Soren asked.
ight="11" width="24">“It means you do need me,” Cate said. Soren couldn’t argue with that, although not in the way she meant. Every second spent in her presence was winding him tighter and tighter. He wasn’t like this. People didn’t get under his skin like this. Wanting a woman was one thing, but wanting to figure her out, to turn her inside out and right side up and know more…
“Soren, look at me,” she said.
That got his attention. Mimicking his tone from earlier, telling her to look at him. Deliberately provocative.
He let his gaze wander over her face until he caught her eyes. Whatever this was, it was important.
“Did you do it?”
“No.”
“You’re sure? You don’t even know what you’ll be accused of by the end.”
Soren leaned forward in his chair. “I have never harassed a woman in my life. I’m a Dom, for fuck’s sake, I get consent. Always.”
Cate didn’t bat an eyelash.
“What am I going to find out?” she said.
“You’re going to find out that I’ve fucked a lot of women,” he said, watching for her reaction carefully. “You’re going to find out that I’ve dominated a lot of women. And you’re going to find out that they all enjoyed it.”
Cate cracked a smile. “Probably I’ll rephrase that for the press. Any committed relationships I can point to? Even from the past? Someone who will come to your defense?”
Soren gritted his teeth.
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow. “None?”
“I don’t do relationships. I do honesty.”
Cate uncrossed and recrossed her legs again, taking Soren’s gaze with her. God damn.
“That’s a good line,” she said. “I might steal it.”
Maybe it was because of those legs that Soren took a second to process what she said. When he did, he could swear he actually heard the world crack in two. In one half, he’d misunderstood her, and nothing had changed. In the other half, Cate had just announced that she didn’t do romantic attachments. And in that version of the world, he’d have her.
“What?” he demanded.
She raised an eyebrow. “I said I like that. Honestysizhat. Ho. I think I’d rather have honesty.”
“You’re saying you don’t do committed relationships or monogamy or whatever the hell people are calling it now?”
“Yes,” she said, amused. “‘Whatever people are calling it now.’”
“You don’t seem like the type,” he said.
That earned him a withering look. Fair enough. He just needed to be completely sure.
“Live and learn,” Cate said.
Soren stared at her. She was serious.
“Well,” Ford said, clearing his throat. “We should schedule a meeting for—”
“No,” Soren said. He kept his eyes locked on Cate. “She’s fired.”
chapter 3
Cate froze. It was like when she used to go running in the winter back when she lived on the East Coast, and she’d take off her sweatshirt and feel both hot and freezing at the same time; her rampant insecurities were running headlong into her badass professional persona, and
it was confusing as hell. Public Cate and Private Cate did not mix at all.
Had Soren Andersson really just fired her?
Normally, there wouldn’t be a conflict in a ridiculous situation like this. Normally, her professional persona would take over and she’d just wipe the rhetorical floor with him. But this was the man she’d just revealed herself to. This was the gorgeous stranger who actually knew something about her.
It felt like the bitterest rejection, and that in turn felt pathetic. It was infuriating.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Soren, what the hell is wrong with you?” Ford exploded. “Cate is one of the best litigators in the entire country. They see her on the other side of the table and you will actually have a chance. We are unbelievably lucky that she’s even in this room right now, and you—”
“Not her,” Soren said again. He was still staring at her. “Not you, Cate.”
“I hadn’t yet agreed to represent you,” she said. She sounded almost detached, which as weird, because she was feeling anything but. “You can’t fire me. And you are unbelievably stupid in addition to being unbelievably lucky.”
In a professional sense, it was true. Intellectually, Cate knew she was a star, and had been ever since her first big judgment against one of the corrupt energy companies, right after she passed the bar. It was a case no one else would take on, and she’d won it all on hert h own against impossible odds, working late nights pro bono, living on ramen and her youthful ability to pull all-nighters. Frankly, it was a Hail Mary miracle shot in a million, but she’d done it. After that she’d had her pick of job offers, eventually accepting a partnership at a firm that would let her grow her own boutique business. She didn’t need this particular case. It would get her more press just because of Soren’s fame, but she could do without it. In a strictly professional sense, this was a walk.
In a personal sense, it hurt way too much to be healthy.
Not to mention there was the involvement of Mark Cheedham, and the fact that she’d seen Patrick Cross lurking around Club Volare. Both men were connected to her ex-husband. Patrick she’d believed to be just a coincidence, and it had spooked her. But Mark? Jason had been angling for a job with Mark Cheedham ever since Jason had been culled as an associate from one of the big firms over a year ago, and Patrick owed Jason one too many favors.