LawyersinLove_Bundle

by Ann Jacobs

What would she do with her life if she gave up the fight?

  Confused, Kristine left while the judge gave the jury their instructions. Her knees suddenly weak, she sank onto one of the wooden benches outside the courtroom and closed her eyes.

  “Krissy?”

  She looked up at Tony, let his smile chase the chill from her heart. Here was the perfect person to help her sort through her jumbled feelings. “You know, Counselor, you’re good,” she said, returning his smile.

  He reached down and stroked her cheek. “Yeah. I am. So is Andi. I’ve got the feeling we’re not going to get a verdict tonight. Want to go to Bennie’s and have a bite to eat while the jury does its thing?”

  “That sounds good. What did you do with the rest of the team you had hovering around the defense table?” she asked after glancing around the anteroom.

  “I got rid of them so I could spend some time with my woman. Are you ready to brave the clouds of smoke to get a beer and a bowl of stew?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dark, smoky, and reminiscent of a movie set for an old-time gangster meeting place, Bennie’s Place did a brisk business with Tampa’s lawyers and cops. A prime location less than a block from the county courthouse and its annex, where criminal trials were held, contributed greatly to its success with local lawyers and politicos.

  His hand at her back, Tony led Kristine toward an empty booth in the back, surprised at the possessive feelings that welled up in him when someone shot her an admiring glance. Every now and then they had to pause and return greetings from colleagues, which irritated Tony further because he wanted Krissy to himself.

  Once they were seated, he laid his cellular phone on the scarred tabletop and motioned for a waiter.

  “Tony, what makes you love it so?”

  “Love what, honey?”

  She brushed soft fingers over the back of his hand. “The fight. Matching wits against an opponent across a courtroom, when somebody else’s life is at stake.”

  “Because I want to win. Fighting the system validates everything I’ve done, all the scraping and clawing I had to do to get as far up the ladder as I have so far.”

  He met her gaze, sensed she expected something more than the answer he’d been giving since he started making a name for himself in Florida courtrooms eight years earlier.

  “Most of all, I love the fight because I don’t want to see anybody punished for who they are, not what they allegedly did.”

  “You don’t believe, deep down, that most of the people you defend are guilty, do you?”

  “As you told me once, sweetheart, ‘asked and answered.’”

  The question he generally responded to without hesitation bothered him, coming as it had from her. Krissy was sleeping with him. She ought to trust him.

  The waiter finally arrived, and Tony gratefully turned his attention to the menu. After he had placed their orders, he tried to make amends for having snapped at her.

  “Sorry, Krissy. It’s been a long day.”

  She looked at him, then focused her gaze on the bundled silverware the waiter had set before her. “How do you know if a defendant’s telling the truth?”

  “Instinct.”

  “Could we talk about a prisoner I handled the preliminary hearing for today?” She glanced around, as though to be certain no one had overheard. “He gave me mixed messages.”

  “I’m not sure I can help you, but I’ll be glad to listen. Unless, that is, someone in my firm is set to defend him or her.”

  “Him. And no. Tom Fernandez from the public defender’s office is representing him.”

  “What’s this defendant charged with?”

  “Felony possession with intent to distribute marijuana. About ten ounces, neatly packaged in nickel bags. He claims the marijuana must have been planted in his apartment, and that he knew nothing about it until the police came to his door with a search warrant.”

  “Were his prints on the bags?” Tony asked, his mind suddenly flooded with questions he would have asked had he been this defendant’s lawyer.

  “No.”

  “Where were the bags found?”

  Kristine set down her water glass. “The officers found them in the defendant’s bathroom, suspended inside the toilet tank in a heavy plastic bag.”

  “I’ve heard crazier places to hide stuff.” He paused, then asked her what had been given as grounds for issuing the search warrant.

  “An informant’s tip.”

  Tony figured that if he were running the defense, he could have the prisoner back on the street in a matter of days, if not hours, from the time his trial began—whether or not he was, in fact, guilty as sin. He didn’t, however, consider it prudent to say so. “Is your defendant a user?”

  “He said not, but we have witnesses who’ll swear he is.”

  Tony looked at Kristine and wished he could wipe away the troubled expression that clouded her eyes. “What’s bothering you about the case, honey?”

  “I don’t know. It was just, when Tom was questioning him, I got this deep-down feeling that the man was telling the truth when he swore he hadn’t hidden that pot in his apartment.”

  “Even though the evidence indicates he’s lying?”

  She nodded. “I have to prosecute him, though. And try my best to get a conviction.”

  “Honey, getting the man convicted is your job. If he’s innocent, you have to believe his own lawyer will get him acquitted.”

  “You think that’s what Andi would do?”

  “I’m sure of it. Win or lose, that lady loves the fight. She’s a challenge to go up against.”

  Kristine shook her head. “I think that’s my problem. It’s not the fight that keeps me going. All I want is to see criminals put away so they can’t hurt innocent people anymore. But I’m starting to believe not all the defendants I’m assigned to prosecute are guilty as charged.”

  “I’ve always believed that.”

  “But you’re not trying to send them all to prison, Tony.”

  “No. I do my damnedest to see my clients walk. When that’s not possible, I try to get them the best deal that can be cut. That’s why the system’s set up the way it is—to provide checks and balances, safeguard individuals’ rights as well as law and order. I believe that, and that’s the bottom line of why I don’t have trouble sleeping when I get a bad guy off.” He paused, sipped his coffee.

  “Why’d you go to work for the state attorney, Kristine?”

  She looked at Tony, her expression fierce. “I hate drug dealers. Drugs killed my sister.” Tears filled her eyes, made them sparkle in the dim light of the hurricane lamp on the table.

  He reached across the table, took her hand. “I knew that, Krissy. I’m sorrier than I can say.”

  She looked him in the eye. “You knew?”

  “I asked one of my associates. He mentioned—”

  “You had no right to pry.”

  Tony tipped her chin up, forced her to look at him. “Yeah, sweetheart, I did. I needed to know what I was up against, because I’d already made up my mind we belong together. I had to know why you had me pegged as lower than dirt.”

  Her expression softened. “I swore I’d try to protect other kids from dying the way she did.”

  “I know, baby.” If the waiter hadn’t arrived with their meal, he’d have said more. Instead, he held her gaze, hoping to convey that he understood.

  When the waiter left, Kristine toyed for a minute with her soupspoon. Then she spoke, her voice so low that Tony had to strain to hear her. “I don’t have the fight in me, but I can’t quit. I owe it to her.”

  “Then find some other way to make amends. Otherwise, you’ll tear yourself apart.”

  * * * * *

  The jury did come in before they’d finished nibbling at the bread bowls that had held their stew. Tony had won again. Kristine stood in the back of the courtroom, watching as the judge dismissed the jury.

  While the obviously grateful defendant thanked Tony for s
ecuring his freedom, she wondered whether this time justice had been served or blocked.

  Andi headed toward Kristine, paused, and shot a lascivious glance Tony’s way. “You’re still consorting with the enemy, I see. Let me know if you’re ever dumb enough to cut him loose.”

  “Sure.” But it won’t be in this millennium. “I heard your closing argument. It was good.”

  “Of course it was good. So good the jury stayed out a whole hour before deciding Landry had beaten it down without breaking a sweat.”

  Andi didn’t look upset. Didn’t it bother her that a criminal was going free? Or had she believed all along that the defendant might not have embezzled that money from his uncle’s company?

  “Was Colson innocent, Andi?”

  “The jury thought so. That’s all that matters.” She looked up, smiled at Tony who had just joined them. “Good defense, Landry.”

  “Thanks for the fight. You made it interesting.”

  Tony rested a hand at Kristine’s waist, as if to stake his claim. “If you’ll excuse us, Ms. Young, Kristine and I’ll be heading somewhere more conducive to relaxation. It’s been a long day for us all.”

  “Hmmm. Relaxation? Is that what they call it now?” Kristine heard Andi mutter under her breath as they walked away.

  “Shouldn’t we have asked Andi to join us?” she asked as they left the courthouse.

  “Not on your life. I’ve had enough of her for a while, and I’m certain she’s seen as much of my ugly mug in the courtroom over the past few days as she can stomach. Besides, what I have in mind for us involves getting naked and rolling around in a warm bed…and about forty-eight hours of privacy.” Tony pulled Kristine close, gave her a quick, hard kiss that made her want much more.

  The sudden heat in her cheeks didn’t hold a candle to the fire of anticipation his honeyed words set off in her belly. “Sounds like fun. Let’s hurry.”

  “My place or yours?” he asked as he opened the passenger door.

  * * * * *

  “Yours.”

  She imagined Tony’s condo. Would his home reflect who he really was, or would she find it mirrored the same glossy image of success as his custom-made suits and this sleek sports car?

  “Okay.”

  He slid behind the wheel and turned the key. The powerful engine roared, then settled into a soothing hum as Tony negotiated the curving pathway down three levels of garage parking to the street. Moments later he’d pulled into his parking slot beneath the condo building and hustled her into the elevator.

  He unlocked the door, then motioned her inside. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”

  When he opened the door she felt a chill. This was no vine-covered cottage, or even a vine-covered mansion. It was an ultramodern atrocity.

  Black suede furniture dominated a stark white living room beyond a foyer whose tiles echoed the black-on-white theme. An abstract painting splashed with primary colors hung over the white marble mantel, and a precisely positioned stack of color-coordinated floor pillows echoed the painting’s tones.

  Kristine saw not a shred of proof any human had ever occupied the elegantly appointed space that reeked of cold, impersonal luxury.

  Apparently he sensed her discomfort. “Blame the decorator, honey. I gave her free rein, except in my office and the master bedroom.”

  Nervous, Kristine laughed as the heels of her pumps clattered across the foyer. “Do you ever spend time in there?”

  “Not often. The decorator told me the living room’s for company. Want a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  He crossed the wide expanse of white marble tiles, opened a black refrigerator behind the bar. “I’ve got half-a-dozen kinds of beer and some splits of wine. Or if you’re feeling brave, I could try my hand at mixing something for you.”

  “Beer will be fine. I’m not particular about brand.”

  Kristine glanced at the array of bottles on the shelf behind the bar. “It looks as though you could mix practically anything anybody could think of drinking.”

  “Well, when I asked the liquor store to stock the bar, they did. I don’t even recognize half the stuff they brought in. I drink a little beer, once in a while a Scotch and water. This stuff is here for guests.”

  He fished out a bottle of Samuel Adams and popped off the cap. “Want a glass?”

  Kristine smiled. “The bottle’s fine.”

  “Come on. I’ll show you the piece of this place where I do live.” Tony grabbed his beer, put an arm around her and shuttled her down a long narrow hallway.

  “My office,” he said when he opened a door to reveal a cluttered desk with a laptop computer balanced precariously atop a stack of papers. “I can look down and see Miss Trial at her berth from that window.”

  The mention of Tony’s boat brought Harper Wells’ comment about the yacht club to Kristine’s mind. When, she wondered, would he decide to share the pain of his past?

  Tony closed the door and steered her toward the doorway across the hall. “My bedroom,” he said as he followed her inside.

  Anticipation warred with jealousy when Kristine looked at a king-size bed with a dark coverlet. It matched opened draperies that framed a panoramic view of the city lights beyond the harbor.

  How many women had Tony brought here?

  He took her beer and set it on one of the nightstands by the bed. “No other woman has ever been here, Krissy.”

  How had he known what she was thinking? Was his mind that attuned to her?

  When she tilted her head, he lowered his. Their lips met, softly, his tongue sliding along the seam of her mouth until she opened to let him in. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Still, he made no move, as though he wanted her to take the next step. Reaching up, she traced the strip of bare skin on the back of his neck, between his collar and his hairline, before running her fingers through his silky hair.

  “Don’t stop, honey.” His words came out like a growl, from deep in his throat. Even through the restrictive layers of their clothing, his arousal scalded her with its heat. His jacket was the enemy. She had to get it off him. With eager hands, she tugged it off his shoulders and sent it drifting to the floor. When he broke the kiss, she whimpered a protest.

  “Let’s get you out of this armor,” he said, doing to the jacket of her suit what she had done to his. Her silk blouse followed, then her skirt. He stood back and looked, his heated gaze searing her as he stripped off his tie and shirt and tossed them carelessly aside.

  “Let me.” She reached for his belt, loosened it. Her fingertips brushed against his hot, hard shaft when she unzipped his slacks and fumbled to loosen the waistband.

  Tony toed off his shoes, then slid his pants down. When Kristine hesitated, he shoved down his plain white boxer shorts. Magnificently naked, he stood and let her look her fill.

  She hadn’t really seen him before. It had been too dark, and the space in the boat’s cabin too close. At her place they’d both been so hot they hadn’t bothered with preliminaries.

  Now she looked her fill, explored the muscular contours of his arms, his broad shoulders. Amazed that she apparently had the power to make him tremble with her touch, she ran her fingers through the light dusting of silky hair on his chest. She followed it down a narrowing path across his trim waist and lower, where it ended in a lush nest that cradled his penis and scrotum.

  How could he feel so soft beneath her fingers yet be hard as steel? With growing wonder, she explored his shaft, felt blood course through the pulsing veins beneath her fingers.

  “Oh.”

  He looked at himself, grinned. “I can’t deny I want you, honey.”

  She wanted him, too. All her feelings, each sensation, intensified, as though magnified a hundred times.

  His rough male beauty, stripped now of all pretense, all the trappings society demanded, held her in thrall. When she looked at him she thanked God she had her sight.

  But she wanted it all. Everything a man and woman could share. Followi
ng his lead, she stripped off the rest of her clothes.

  Her mouth felt dry when she looked at his long, thick penis and imagined it penetrating her aching core. “I’m yours,” she said, meeting his heated gaze.

  He said nothing, just kissed her hard on the mouth before bending his head and taking a hardened nipple between his teeth. With one hand he kneaded her other breast while he spread the other callused palm across her abdomen.

  She wanted to touch him, too. Make him shiver with anticipation, go weak in the knees. But he kept up his sensual onslaught.

  “Stop. I’m burning. Make love to me. Please. Now.” She couldn’t take much more of his erotic torture.

  “Easy, baby,” he murmured against her breast. “We’ve got all night.”

  Then he stood and scooped her into his arms. As he strode to the bed, she felt him tremble, too. He swept back the coverlet, laid her on cool, crisp sheets, and covered her with his hot, hard body.

  “We’ve got all night, all right, but you’ve got me burning, too. I don’t want to wait, Krissy.” He reached into a drawer, withdrew a handful of condoms, and ripped the plastic wrapper off one of them with his teeth.

  When he’d sheathed himself, he came back to her, settled between her thighs, and joined their bodies carefully, as if he worried that he’d hurt her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She held him tight, as though she’d never let him go. Her breath still came in ragged bursts. Her pulse still pounded against his wrung-out cock, doing a number on it, coaxing his erection back to life. He braced himself on his elbows to keep from crushing her, but he couldn’t make himself pull away.

  Her hard little nipples pierced his chest when she inhaled. He’d never come across a woman so responsive. He felt himself swelling and hardening inside her as he imagined her flat belly rounding with their child, their baby taking nourishment from her breasts the way he couldn’t resist doing now.

  He’d crossed over a line, allowed himself to want much more than momentary release from Krissy. More than he’d ever wanted from any other woman with whom he’d shared his body.

  The corners of her lips turned up in a sweet, sexy smile, and she clasped her legs tighter about his waist.