by Linda Warren
“But I will,” Roger asserted. “I’ll get it sorted out.”
I’ll bet you will, Lucas thought as Roger walked off.
“WHAT THE HELL IS IT with Culver and women?” Evan roared as Carl entered his office.
Before Carl could respond, Evan raved on, “Higgins has to be sixty if she’s a day and Culver smiles at her and she gives him exactly what he wants and all because she believes him. This is unprecedented garbage.”
“Are you going to speak with Judge Higgins?” Carl asked.
“Hell, no,” Evan growled. “The last thing I need to do is to antagonize a judge. It’s hard enough getting a conviction these days. Judge Higgins had better pray that Blake Logan doesn’t skip bail. If that happens, then I’ll have more than a word with the judge.”
Evan picked up a golf ball from his desk and leaned back, squeezing it repeatedly. “I underestimated Sam. He knew exactly what he was doing. None of those hotshots in his firm could’ve done what Culver did today. I just wonder how Sam got him to change his mind.”
“The detective we have following Sam said he didn’t leave his house until this morning when he came to court,” Carl told him.
“Tell the detective to concentrate on Blake Logan. If he heads for an airport, I want to be informed immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Evan gripped the ball. “Blair talked Culver into taking the case,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s the only explanation.”
“But she hates Lucas.”
Evan gave a gruff laugh. “Yeah, but now her brother needs him and she’s smart enough not to let her pride stand in the way.” He threw the ball onto the putting green. “Damn, she’s going to be a great asset to Culver.”
“Yeah,” Carl admitted.
Evan leaned forward. “Let’s get this case on the docket as soon as possible. Meanwhile, you keep a close eye on Culver—and make damn sure we get a conviction.”
“Yes, sir.”
LUCAS WALKED into his office at noon and found Joan in a tizzy. She’d heard on the news that he was representing Blake Logan, and she wanted to know what was going on. He explained, then went to talk to Clive and George. They, too, had heard he’d taken the case. Although they weren’t pleased that Lucas had taken such a high-profile case without discussing it with them first, they were delighted with the publicity it would generate for the firm. That, as always, was the selling point.
Later, in the afternoon, he introduced his team to Derek, Frank and Theo. He told everyone what he expected. Discovery motions were the top priority. He wanted transcripts from the first trial and fast; he also wanted all the evidence the D.A. had now. He was very curious about how the DNA evidence had been obtained, and he intended to discuss it with Blake again as soon as possible. He put Derek in charge. Everything went smoothly, although Brad, a young lawyer who’d worked for him a number of years, was disappointed that he wouldn’t be second chair. Lucas didn’t have time for petty grievances and made it clear that he wouldn’t tolerate personal gripes.
In the evening he headed to the jail to talk to Raye during regular visiting hours. He didn’t want to annoy the jail personnel any more than he had to.
Hector Raye was shown into the small room where Lucas waited for him. Hector was of medium height with long dark greasy hair and tattoos that covered most of his body. Hector greeted him contemptuously. “Well, if it ain’t my esteemed attorney who couldn’t do crap in the courtroom.”
“Sit down, Hector,” he ordered quietly, ignoring the nasty remark.
“Ain’t nobody tells me what to do, man,” Hector spit out.
Lucas got to his feet, towering over Hector by a good three inches. With one hand Lucas pushed him into a chair. “Sit down, shut up and listen.”
“You can’t manhandle me,” Hector said belligerently.
Lucas leaned closer and stared him in the eye. “Listen, and listen well. Stop harassing Ms. Logan.”
Hector shrank back. “Whaddaya mean, man?”
“Exactly what I said. Stop harassing Ms. Logan.”
“I ain’t doing nothing to that bitch. Hell, ain’t I locked up?”
“But your gang isn’t.”
“My gang.” Hector laughed. “They washed their hands of me the day I got convicted. Big Joe was just waitin’ to take over.”
Lucas straightened, shaking his head. “You know, Hector, I can never tell whether you’re lying or telling the truth.”
“Like I care, man.”
Lucas bent down again. “Do you care about dying?”
Hector’s eyebrows knotted together. “Whaddaya mean?”
“I mean your sentencing is coming up soon. It’s either life in prison or a lethal injection. Jim Tenney is back at work, so he’ll be handling the sentencing. I might just tell him not to plead for leniency—life in prison would be too easy for you.” It was a bluff. Lucas wouldn’t do such a thing, but he was counting on Hector’s not knowing that.
His reaction confirmed it. “No, man, you can’t do that!”
“Then tell me the truth.”
“I ain’t harassing Ms. Logan,” he shouted. “Man, you gotta talk ’em out of giving me a lethal injection. You gotta.”
Lucas’s instincts told him Hector was telling the truth. He was more concerned with saving his own life than getting even with Blair.
It was late, but Lucas drove over to Blair’s anyway. He wanted to tell her about Hector, although he didn’t know if that was good news or bad. If Hector wasn’t harassing her, who was?
BLAIR HAD SPENT the evening with her family. She and Blake had talked and talked—just like old times—and he’d told her everything. She couldn’t believe she’d been so blind about what was going on with her brother…before and after the murder. She had known he was on drugs but hadn’t realized it was that bad. She’d known he ran around with a wild crowd but had thought he’d outgrow them. She’d never dreamed his life was such a mess, and neither had her parents, until after the attack.
When Todd had almost killed her, she hadn’t understood why her parents wouldn’t let Blake come home. Then later she’d wondered why Blake didn’t come home on his own. He always gave convincing excuses, but somehow they never satisfied her. Now she understood. Ever since the attack, she’d been so absorbed in her own life, her own pain, that she’d overlooked the needs of her family. She wouldn’t do that again.
She thought of Lucas all day. She even called his house later that evening, but he wasn’t home. She wondered if he was out with Jennifer. That didn’t matter, she told herself, but she couldn’t quite believe it.
Today she had kissed him in the courtroom without even thinking. When she realized what she’d done, she’d quickly turned to Blake. Lucas had become rigid, as though he was in shock or something, and she knew it was because she’d let her true emotions show. Lucas wasn’t used to that. He was used to her deriding or ridiculing him every chance she got. Things had changed so much in the past couple of days. Now her every other thought was of Lucas. Funny how your attitudes could reverse themselves so completely….
Her outlook on life had been so narrow, determined solely by what had happened to her. She could see that now. Her goal had been to put criminals behind bars. She’d refused to even consider that there could be another side. Now she had to look at so many things differently. Blake was innocent. Would she believe that if Blake wasn’t her brother, though? No, she probably wouldn’t, she had to admit. Maybe she’d been unfair in her assessment of other cases.
Lucas had told her everyone deserved a fair trial—even people like Hector Raye. As a lawyer, she knew that and had sworn to uphold justice. Yet her cynicism about Raye and his kind, plus her single-minded dedication to her goal meant that she’d never questioned the guilt of those she’d prosecuted. At the thought of Raye, an old fear ran along her skin, but she couldn’t give in to it.
She’d gone back to her apartment, but now she wished she’d stayed at her parents’. The hum of the ref
rigerator, the tick of the clock, every sound seemed magnified. It was a silly reaction; she was well aware of that, which was the only thing that reassured her.
She put on a silky blue nightgown with tiny straps. It came about six inches above her knees, as did the matching robe she slipped on. She curled up on the sofa, going through case histories—cases that had been tried when the murder was several years in the past. She was hoping to find something Lucas could use.
She almost jumped out of her skin when the intercom buzzed. She immediately pressed the button and found that Lucas was waiting to see her. Her heart started to race and she dashed to her room to change, but again, she knew she didn’t have time. She ran back, turned off the alarm system and opened the door.
Lucas stood there, but a different Lucas from the one she’d seen this morning. He still wore his brown suit pants and cream shirt, but his tie and jacket were gone. His hair was rumpled, as were his clothes, and he looked tired. Still, he made her feel breathless.
“Hi,” he said in an exhausted voice.
“Come in,” she invited.
He walked past her into the living room. He was drained, but the sight of Blair in that blue skimpy thing shot his blood pressure up a few notches. Pushing law books aside, he sank down on the sofa.
“Doing some light reading?” he asked in a teasing tone.
She said something in reply, but she didn’t know what. All she could do was stare at his dark stubble and wonder what it would feel like under her fingers. She had to remind herself to concentrate and she realized he could be here only for one reason—Blake’s trial.
“Did you learn something?” she asked eagerly.
“You mean about Blake? No,” he answered, his eyes slowly traveling over her. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders the way he liked it, and that blue nightie left little to the imagination.
“Oh,” she said in a disappointed voice.
“But I did find out something about Raye,” he told her.
Fear entered her blue eyes and she couldn’t hide it, not from him. He didn’t want to tell her, but she had a right to know.
She sat in the Queen Anne chair and folded her hands in her lap. “What did you find out?”
Lucas took a breath. “He said he’s not harassing you.”
“And you believe him?”
Lucas shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. Raye’s a habitual liar, but in my gut I feel he’s telling the truth.”
“Then who would’ve done such a thing?”
Lucas shrugged again. “I don’t know, but you have to be very careful. It would probably be best if you moved in with your parents.”
“I’m not doing that,” she snapped, getting up and grabbing law books and placing them on the coffee table. “They’d watch my every move and worry themselves sick about me. I’m not putting them or myself through that again.”
He saw how adamant she was, but he was concerned about her being here alone. “You could use the excuse of spending time with Blake.”
“Blake has a lot of fences to mend with my parents, and I don’t need to be around for that. Since I don’t have a job anymore, I can visit with Blake during the day.”
While she was talking, she stacked all the books on the table, then picked up several and carried them to a built-in bookcase. When she came back for more, Lucas grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the sofa. “Stop fussing and listen to me.”
Blair was winded for a moment when she looked into Lucas’s dark eyes, and all breath left her as she experienced sensual, delightful things that had nothing to do with fear.
“You have to be very careful,” he repeated. “We don’t know who’s doing this, so you have to be on the alert.”
She gulped in some desperately needed oxygen. “I am careful, but I’m not letting some lunatic dictate how I live my life.”
Lucas groaned. “You’re so damn independent, so damn stubborn.”
“Maybe,” she said.
“And you know what I’m thinking.”
“No,” she whispered.
“I’m thinking you make me angrier than anyone I’ve ever met. You make me say and do things I normally wouldn’t. And all I’m thinking right now is how much I’d like to kiss you.”
His smoldering eyes focused on her lips, and her breath was trapped in her throat. “You would?” The words came out low and husky.
“Yeah,” he murmured, and his forefinger touched her full lower lip.
Unconsciously her tongue licked the sensitive spot. He watched the tantalizing movement as his hand moved slowly across her cheek, brushed hair behind her ear and came to rest on the nape of her neck. His eyes were riveted on her, and Blair sensed that she was being swept away by something stronger than herself, stronger than her fear. Lucas. He was stilling her fears with his gentleness and she wanted him to go on touching her. Oh yes, she wanted more.
Her desire darkened her eyes and Lucas didn’t miss it. Slowly he eased her toward him and his lips tentatively touched hers, then covered them. She felt an aching need, felt it all the way to her soul. Lucas deepened the kiss, and then Blair was kissing him back with an intensity that shocked her.
At her capitulation, Lucas groaned and pulled her tight against him. “God, you smell good and you feel even better.” His hand roamed freely across her back. “Just like I always thought you would.”
“You’ve thought of me?” she asked in a small voice.
“Sure,” was the quick answer. “When you were spitting fire at me in the courtroom, I used to wonder what you’d do if I kissed you. Would all that fire turn into passion?”
“And?” she prompted, knowing she was fishing for a compliment but unable to help herself.
“Oh, Blair, stop tormenting me,” he moaned. “Stop dancing in my dreams.”
Blair drew back; Lucas wasn’t making any sense. And she knew why. He was half-asleep.
“Lucas, how much sleep have you had?”
“About two hours.”
“I think you’re punch-drunk.”
“I’m definitely drunk on something.” He grinned, and his hand lightly touched her breast.
She caught his hand, not because she wanted him to stop, but because she knew he’d have no memory of it in the morning. And she wanted him wide-awake when they did this for real. Somehow she felt it was a foregone conclusion and that didn’t frighten her at all—not at all.
“Spoilsport,” he mumbled.
“Go to sleep, Lucas,” she whispered, and settled her head under his chin. Her body rested on his and she loved the way their contours seemed to fit—so close, so perfectly together.
Soon she heard his deep breathing and knew he was asleep, but she still didn’t move. Even with all the crises and problems in her life, she felt safe and at peace in Lucas’s arms. Eventually, though, she moved from the security of his embrace.
Blair went into the bedroom and grabbed a pillow and a blanket. She threw the pillow on the sofa, then stooped to take off Lucas’s shoes. He didn’t wake up. She drew his head down to the pillow and arranged his long legs across the end of the sofa. Finally, she covered him with the blanket and stared down at his face, resisting the urge to steal another kiss.
She didn’t know what tomorrow might bring, but she knew that Lucas would be part of it. He had forgiven her rudeness and come to their rescue today. For that, she would be forever grateful.
What the hell, she thought, and reached down to give him a quick kiss. He stirred and murmured her name. She smiled. He had definitely said Blair and not another woman’s name. The smile lingered as she floated into bed.
CHAPTER NINE
BLAIR SLEPT more soundly and deeply than she had in months. A noise woke her in the early hours of the morning. She sat up as fear charged through her, then relaxed as she remembered Lucas sleeping on the sofa. The noise became louder and she slipped out of bed and headed to the living room. The sofa was empty, and the blanket lay on the floor, as did Lucas’s clothes. Her e
yes swung toward the noise. Lucas was in the kitchen opening doors and drawers. He had nothing on but a pair of black briefs. Her breath lodged in her throat at the sight of his lean, masculine body. She turned toward the bedroom, thinking it was best if she left Lucas alone, especially after her reaction to him last night. She felt so vulnerable to him and didn’t understand why. All she knew was that he was affecting her emotions in ways she hadn’t expected.
She heard a curse and decided she could handle a half-naked Lucas. He was obviously searching for something and needed help.
“What are you searching for?” she asked, walking into the kitchen. She purposely avoided looking at his body and the dark swirls of hair on his chest.
“Coffee,” came the gruff answer. “I need coffee.”
“It’s in the canister by the sink,” she told him.
“By the sink?” he growled. “Why isn’t it by the coffeepot? Coffee should be kept by the coffeepot.”
“I keep it in the canister—by the sink,” she replied stiffly, beginning to lose her temper at his arrogant attitude. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d put some clothes on.”
His dark eyes bore into her. “And I’d appreciate it if you left me alone.”
“Fine,” she snapped, and returned to her bedroom.
She straightened her bed and found her robe and pulled it on. She took a couple of deep breaths and smiled. She’d never had a man in her apartment in the morning and if this was what it was like, then she wasn’t missing a thing—except maybe seeing Lucas’s body. That might just be worth his bad mood.
When she went back to the kitchen, Lucas had his slacks on and he was opening cabinets again. The slacks didn’t help all that much. She’d already seen the briefs and knew—
“Where’re your mugs?” he asked when he noticed her.
“Mugs?”
“Yeah, you know the round things you put coffee in.”
“First door on the right.”
He opened the door and groaned. “That’s a cup. I need a mug.”
“I don’t have a mug. I have cups.”