by Abby Gaines
“You two having a nice evening?” Travis asked.
“Wonderful.” Megan sent Robert the kind of dazzling smile her sister Sabrina made a career of. To her gratification, he did look dazzled.
“We need to go,” Travis said abruptly.
Allie smiled up at him. “Yeah, I need an early night.”
How interesting. Megan didn’t want to analyze the acid burn in the pit of her stomach.
After Travis left, the restaurant seemed dimmer, the ambience less stimulating.
“Is there anything you should tell me about Travis?” she asked Robert. Right now, she would welcome the news that he’d murdered two wives and chopped up their bodies with a chain saw, she was so desperate to kill her awareness of him.
Robert tensed. “What did Jamieson say?”
“Nothing, I just sensed a problem.”
“I don’t like the guy,” he said. “I don’t like his firm’s ethics.”
She could hardly argue with that.
She wanted to scream when Robert ordered coffee and cognac, unfazed by her pointed refusal of another drink and her glance at her watch. Now that he had Megan’s foot locked between his, he wasn’t about to let go.
It was eleven o’clock by the time he paid the check—Megan was too annoyed to even consider splitting it—and she escaped.
Outside, clouds obscured the moon and the only light source was the orange streetlight in the parking lot.
“Are you okay to drive?” she asked as they neared her car. Robert had drunk more than she had, but he seemed steady enough. She hoped desperately she wouldn’t have to offer him a ride home.
He bumped against the Jeep next to her BMW. When he straightened, he was much closer, confining her in the space between the two cars. “I’m fine. I had a great night, Megan.”
“Me, too.” It wasn’t as if she was on the witness stand, under oath. She pressed the button to unlock her car. “Well, good—umph.”
Robert had her locked in his arms, his mouth mashed against hers.
It all came back to her now, the way his kisses had left her cold those few times they’d dated. This one rated slightly worse than neutral on the kissing scale, thanks to the alcohol fumes.
At first, Megan concentrated on keeping her lips pressed firmly together against the probing of his tongue. Since she might have encouraged him to think she would welcome his advances, she would give him five seconds of courtesy time. Five…four…three…two…one. Ding.
She managed to twist her head aside. “Okay, it’s getting—” Erk! Talking had given him the chance to slip his tongue into her mouth. No, she definitely did not rate him as a kisser. No finesse whatsoever. She yanked away and gave him a shove. “That’s enough. Good night, Robert.”
He got the message and pulled back, his hands still at her waist. His voice was sulky. “Can I help it if you’re so—”
“Out of your league,” snarled a male voice behind him.
“Travis!” Megan stumbled against her car as Travis grabbed Robert by the neck and hauled him away.
“Beat it, Grayson,” he said. “Or you’ll have more trouble than you bargained for.” He released Robert with a flick of the hand reminiscent of tossing something in the trash.
The gesture wasn’t wasted on Robert. “You lay another finger on me, and you’ll be in court on an assault charge,” he barked.
Travis didn’t back down, and the two men eyed each other. They were the same height, but even in their dinner clothes Travis’s toned fitness made Robert look soft.
“Travis, you’re overreacting,” Megan said. “Stop it, both of you.”
Robert straightened his jacket, buttoned it as if he were in no particular hurry. “Good night, Megan,” he said. Then walked away with a speed that suggested he wasn’t impervious to Travis’s threat.
“What were you doing letting a jerk like that within ten feet of you?” Travis demanded, as soon as Robert had climbed into his Lexus.
“I’ll have dinner with whoever I like.” Megan patted down her hair. “How come you’re still here? You left nearly an hour ago.” Not that she’d been counting. She scanned the parking lot for Allie, but there was no sign of the woman.
“I saw your car here and I wanted to make sure you got away from Grayson okay.” Travis scrutinized her face, checking for who knows what. “I came back.”
“You shouldn’t have bothered. I’m fed up with you butting into my personal life.” She jabbed a finger at his chest through his black shirt. She whipped it away again. “I’ll date Robert every night of the week if I want to.”
“You will not.”
She clutched her head. “Travis…”
Another couple exited the restaurant and glanced curiously in the direction of their raised voices.
“Dammit, Megan,” Travis muttered. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but Grayson was questioned by the police about a date rape allegation a couple of years back.”
She reeled backward. “I don’t believe you. I would have heard.”
“He paid hush money. Seems he wasn’t willing to put attorney-client confidentiality to the test in his own firm. He schlepped across town to PPA—that kind of transaction is right up our alley,” Travis said grimly. “The money was paid out to the woman without admission of guilt.”
“So…no prosecution.”
“And a guarantee of confidentiality,” he said.
“Do—do you think it was true? What she accused him of?” Megan shuddered at the memory of Robert’s tongue, invading her mouth.
“He’s innocent until proved guilty, so it doesn’t matter what I think. But it does matter to me that you don’t go out with him.” He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I—I thought Robert had some dirt on you, and that’s why you didn’t want me to go.” All this time, he’d been genuinely worried about her. Not trying to steal her client. Guilty, she took a step toward him. Her foot brushed something; she glanced down and saw her purse—she must have dropped it while Robert was groping her.
Travis picked it up, dusting it off. Satisfied, he handed it to her. “Are you willing to believe a PPA lawyer over one of the pillars of the legal fraternity?”
Megan searched Travis’s eyes in the orange glow of the streetlight. “Yes. But why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I told you not to go out with him.”
“And you thought I should obey you?” She paused, then went fishing. “Save that macho stuff for Allie. If she’s still talking to you after you abandoned her.” She tried to sound disapproving.
“Allie understood. She’s an old friend.”
Ex-girlfriend, she thought.
“We never dated,” Travis said.
Megan tamped down a surge of elation. She fingered her keys but didn’t move toward her car. “I’m really not interested in your love life.”
His laugh was slow-drifting, like fog on the evening air. “Your curiosity is written all over your face.”
Not possible. She was known for her aloofness, her inscrutability.
“If I’m curious, it’s about why you took your friend home, then came back here to protect me.” She gripped the strap of her purse. “Do you do the same for every woman Robert dates? Or just me?”
“Just you.” His voice was low. He sighed. “Hell, you’re right. This is none of my business. You can take care of yourself.”
Suddenly, Megan didn’t want to. “Then why are you here?”
He tipped his head back, scanned the skies as if the answer might be there. “Damned if I know.”
A spurt of laughter escaped her. Then she said with courtroom objectivity, “It looks a lot like jealousy.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” He sounded surprised. “I’ve never been jealous before.”
“Must be something else then,” she said practically.
He gave her a brooding look. “Do me a favor. Don’t date Grayson again.”
As if she would. Still, best not
to capitulate too easily. “Pushing your luck, Travis, telling me what to do.”
“I like to live dangerously.” A spark arced between them, invisible but electric.
“Despite appearances,” she said, “tonight wasn’t a date. It was meant to be a business dinner.”
His gaze traveled down her short, figure-hugging black dress. “I suppose you wore that because you think it’s modest.”
“It is.” Though from the sudden glint in his eyes, Megan wasn’t so sure. She put a hand to her throat, where the high collar of her dress ended.
“I have news for you.” He touched the same spot, the brush of his finger a light caress against her neck. “This is the kind of dress, you put an incredible figure like yours in it, and it drives a man wild.” He sounded intriguingly husky.
Megan would admit her figure was one of her best assets, but incredible…? She was fairly sure that would cop a misrepresentation rap in court.
“Well, look at that.” He closed the gap between them and bared his teeth in a dangerous grin. Megan tingled all over. “I just realized,” he said, “we’re in the exact same spot we were in for our first kiss.”
Tingling turned to a heat that spread inward. She managed to say coolly, “That wasn’t a real kiss.”
“Aw, shucks, Ms. Megan, that was one of my better efforts.”
“Are you ever serious?” she demanded.
He put one hand on either side of her on her car, effectively pinning her there. “I’ve been nothing but serious where you’re concerned, Megan, from the moment we met. I’ve never known anyone like you.”
Did he have any idea how seductive that was to a woman who’d always existed in the shadow of more talented, more beautiful sisters? “Cynthia is smarter,” she began, unable to prevent herself repeating the conditioning of her childhood.
“I doubt that,” Travis said. “And I don’t care. I like you.”
Her heart stopped in her chest, then resumed pounding so loudly she thought he must hear it. “That doesn’t make sense, given our differences.”
“No doubt you can think of a more logical explanation.”
She didn’t want to, but it was probably best that she did. “It could be your overprotective chauvinistic streak kicking in.”
“In which case, the simplest thing,” he guessed, “would be for you to thank me for dispatching Robert, get in your car, drive home and not have to worry about complications.”
“Exactly.” Disappointment warred with relief. Relief won. “Thank you for dispatching Robert.”
He remained silent, until she met his eyes, dark as midnight. “I hoped you might thank me in the traditional fashion,” he said.
She swallowed. “You want me to write you a note?”
In reply, he tilted her chin with one finger. All of her body heat converged on that point, making her feverish.
“Travis, I don’t think—” She fought for coherence. “It’s been a long, complicated night, and I’m all kissed out.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll keep it simple.” His finger moved up to caress the seam of her lips. “Mmm,” he murmured, the sound slow and deep, as if she was as beautiful as Sabrina.
How was she supposed to resist?
Her thoughts must be all over her face again, because Travis smiled—an intimate, sensuous smile—then he touched his lips to hers. Not for much longer than that first, accidental kiss. Entirely the opposite of Robert’s unwelcome advance. When he pulled away, Megan felt…cheated.
“Is that it?” she asked.
“No, Megs,” he said roughly, “that is not it.”
He kissed her again, and this time…this time…it was magic. His mouth fit perfectly against hers, firm, seeking, sensual. He nipped her lower lip and desire shot through Megan, the secret code that opened her mouth. His tongue slipped in, flicked against hers, then began a slow mating as tormenting as it was satisfying.
Megan twined her arms around his neck, pressed closer. He groaned and muttered, “This is impossible,” even as he traced the line of her jaw with whisper-light kisses. His hands moved to cup her bottom.
The hint of a night breeze passed between them, cooling Megan’s heated skin. Blowing reality over her.
“Travis, stop.” It came out barely louder than a whisper, rather than the command she’d intended, yet he immediately released her. So fast, she tripped against her car. He grabbed her to steady her, but this time his touch was impersonal. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Was he referring to her stumble, or the kiss?
“I’m fine.” She opened the car and tossed her purse over to the passenger seat, using the distraction to reclaim her breath. And her sense.
At midnight, the craziest things could seem logical, inevitable. She rubbed her eyes—uh-oh, all that mascara had to go somewhere—suddenly desperate to be in her own bed. Alone. “I’d better leave. We have a big meeting with the Hoskinses tomorrow.”
The moonlight magic would be gone, and the stark light of day would be filled with Theo and Barbara, their bickering, Megan’s worries about her job. Tomorrow, Travis would be the enemy.
He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed softly. “Always on the case, aren’t you, Megs?”
He held her car door open. Megan climbed in, keeping her focus on the windshield, then the seat belt, then the ignition, then the gear shift. Her door snicked closed. She drove straight out, without looking back.
What a bizarre night. She’d gone to dinner with her mind set on industrial espionage against Robert. She’d ended the evening mindless, in Travis’s arms.
Mindless was bad. Mindless wouldn’t get her what she wanted, which wasn’t the casual kisses of a semi-reputable lawyer. If she wanted to win her father over, she needed to engage her brain and disengage her…other parts.
CHAPTER EIGHT
TRAVIS WASN’T normally prone to recriminations over something as insubstantial as a kiss, but at least a dozen times on Tuesday he was assailed by regrets over the previous night’s combustible encounter with Megan.
He’d never meant for it to happen, had returned to the restaurant after dropping Allie at home purely with the intention of making sure Megan got away from Robert safely.
Kissing her was definitely not in the plan.
The plan was to use the Hoskins case to get close to Jonah Merritt, not to his daughter.
But as so often happened when Megan was around, he could no more have resisted her than he could have stopped breathing.
Which didn’t say much about his ability to learn from his mistakes. Ten years ago, he’d made an error in judgment, let a bunch of people down by joining PPA, no matter that his reasons had been noble. Now, just as he had a chance to fix his career mistake, he risked sabotaging his plans for personal happiness.
Kissing Megan was too damn distracting. A guy could forget his determination to settle down and start a family, and instead succumb to honey-haired temptation.
No more, he vowed, as he and Barbara Hoskins took the elevator to the third floor of Merritt, Merritt & Finch’s building for Wednesday afternoon’s division of assets meeting, dedicated to the Hoskinses’ extremely valuable share portfolio.
Megan had obviously decided retreat was the best course of action, too. She greeted him with distant formality before she and Theo sat down on the other side of the imposing, carved-leg table.
For the next three hours, Barbara and Theo bickered and quibbled over every last penny of their stock portfolio until the air was heavy with acrimony.
“I should keep the Mirror Corp shares,” Theo said, just as Travis was contemplating breaking a window to let in some oxygen. It was past five o’clock, almost dark outside. “You said they were a waste of money when I bought them.”
“The same day you bought Enron, wasn’t it?” Barbara sneered. “I want half of Mirror Corp.”
The couple were supposed to let their lawyers do the negotiating, but they couldn’t resist sniping.
“My client is willing to accede in the matter of the Mirror Corp shares,” Megan told Travis in a rare pause in the arguing, “so long as your client agrees to an equal division of the Forest Products options.”
“I earned those options working eighteen hour days at that company,” Barbara sputtered.
Travis wondered who’d looked after the kids while she worked those long days. But Barbara was his client, so he was on her side. At least she wasn’t an alcoholic, like the kids’ dad.
“Your client can have thirty percent of Forest Products,” he said. “No more.”
Megan’s gaze clashed with his; then she looked down at her notes. “We’ll take it,” she said, and he wondered if he’d given her more than she expected.
They wrapped up at five-thirty, by which time Travis was ready to gag his client and punch Megan’s. He didn’t know how Megan handled divorces all the time. It was enough to turn anyone off marriage.
Barbara left in a hurry to do some Christmas shopping, while Theo went to relieve the babysitter at the family home until Barbara returned.
While Travis checked his notes against those made by Trisha, Megan’s paralegal, Megan didn’t hide her attempt to observe over Trisha’s shoulder. Did she think he’d try to sneak a few alterations in under her radar?
Last night, he’d thought she trusted him.
Unconsciously, she fiddled with a button on her suit jacket as she monitored Trisha. Her fingers slid over the polished silver disc, then circled the rim. He remembered her hands in his hair, her body against his during that electrifying kiss outside Salt. He hauled his brain back into line, just as the meeting room door opened.
“Megan,” Jonah Merritt said.
Her head snapped around. “Dad?”
He was here, the man Travis was beginning to wonder if he’d sold his soul to meet.
Jonah’s complexion looked better than it had that day in The Jury Room, but his eyes were slightly sunken.
“I’m on my way to have a drink with Judge Pearson, I thought I’d call in,” Jonah said to his daughter. He nodded at Trisha, who was leaving the room, and directed a politely inquiring glance at Travis.