His Father's Son

by Ruth Langan

  “Now that’s what a guy likes to hear.” He pulled her into his arms and ran soft, teasing kisses up her cheek to her ear, loving the way she shivered and snuggled closer into his arms.

  Sometime during the night they’d finally made it to her bed, where they’d alternately loved and dozed, then loved again. Each time they awoke, the need was there. As sharp, as demanding as any hunger.

  At times it felt as though they’d been together for a lifetime, and the loving had been soft and easy. At other times their passion had exploded like a sudden, violent summer storm, with flashes of lightning and heart-stopping thunder that left them drained and spent.

  She started to push from his arms. “I thought I’d make some coffee and toast a bagel.”

  “I’ll help.” Instead of releasing her, he nipped playfully at her lobe. “In just a minute.”

  His warm breath made her tremble. “Cam.” She tried to pull away, and he tightened his arms around her before lowering his head to run soft, nibbling kisses across her throat.

  Her voice thickened. “You know what this always leads to.”

  “Yeah.” He trailed his mouth across her shoulder. “I’m counting on it.”

  She sighed, feeling her body respond. Already that warm, languid feeling had stolen quietly over her, robbing her of the will to resist. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “You got that right.” He combed his fingers through her hair, loving the way she looked in his arms.

  Then he proceeded to show her, with slow, deep kisses and touches as soft and fine as a whisper, all the things that were in his heart.

  Summer awoke to the wonderful rich aroma of coffee. She opened her eyes to see dawn light spreading ribbons of fire across the horizon. Though the morning air drifting in the open window was pleasantly cool, there was already a hint of the heat and humidity to come.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.” Cam set a cup of coffee on the night table and sat on the edge of the bed before leaning down to brush a kiss over her lips.

  “Morning. Nice of you to let me sleep.”

  “Nice of you to let me—” he gave her a heart-stopping grin “—enjoy such a memorable night.”

  “It was memorable.” She sat up and reached for the coffee. “Mmm. Now, that’s good. Almost as good as your kisses. I may let you make my coffee every morning.”

  “Promise?”

  At the intense look in his eyes she felt herself flushing. She hadn’t thought beyond the night. Nor did she want to. What they’d shared had been special. But one night of loving was no guarantee of anything more. Especially with a man of Cameron Lassiter’s reputation.

  To cover her confusion she glanced around. “No bagel?”

  He shook his head. “I checked the refrigerator and freezer. No bagels. But I did find this.” He held out a plate of cheese and crackers.

  “Oh, that’s perfect. Just what I need to restore my energy.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I figured.” He was smiling as he offered her a bite. “I’d be a fool not to see to that.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Always thinking, aren’t you, Lassiter?”

  “That’s right. One of us has to see to the really important details. Food. Drink. Sex.”

  She helped herself to another bite. “Just like a guy. Always thinking with a certain part of his anatomy.”

  “It’s our duty. How else are we supposed to go forth and multiply?”

  “If it were left up to women, I’m sure we’d find an easier way.”

  He laughed. “Easier, maybe. But not nearly as much fun.” He took the cup from her hands and set it on the night table. “Speaking of fun…”

  She held out her hands to keep him at bay. “Cam, we have to think about getting ready for work.”

  “Work?” He dragged her into his arms and brushed her lips with his. At once he felt the jolt. “Woman, I can’t be thinking about such mundane things when duty is calling.”

  They were both laughing as they came together in a searing kiss. But their laughter suddenly dissolved into sighs, and then to moans.

  Cam found himself wondering how he could possibly get through the day without touching her like this. Holding her. Loving her.

  Love. He pushed aside the thought and lost himself in her.

  Later, as he stood on the balcony sipping strong, hot coffee, the thought returned to mock him. Hadn’t he recently boasted to Pop that he much preferred the woman of the moment to the woman of a lifetime? When he’d said that, he’d surely meant it. Words like love, commitment, were for others. After all, he’d learned early on that it was possible to lose, in the blink of an eye, the most important person in his life.

  A man didn’t set himself up to take a beating a second time. Did he?

  Something was happening here. Something he didn’t want to probe too deeply.

  “Breakfast is ready.”

  At the sound of Summer’s voice he turned.

  “I don’t have bagels, but I do have almond cherry muffins. We can eat them out on the balcony.”

  She was wearing a simple navy skirt and white blouse, her hair scooped behind one ear with a jeweled comb. He found himself speechless at the sight of her. Quite simply, she took his breath away.

  She set down the plate of muffins and walked to him, touching a hand to his cheek. “You all right?”

  “I am now.” He gathered her close and brushed her mouth with his, then stepped back and drew in a breath, still tasting her. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine now.”

  She gave him a measured look as she took a seat at the small table. There had been something in his eyes. Something sad and wounded that had touched a chord in her.

  She pointed to the thick manila folder by his elbow. “Is that Alfonso’s file?”

  He nodded. “The transcript from his trial.”

  “Have you found any discrepancy that might warrant a new trial?”

  He shook his head. The frown line was back between his brows. “There are a lot of little things that don’t add up. But nothing pivotal. I’ve gone over it too many times to count. I’m missing something. I don’t know what. But I’m convinced if I keep reading, I’ll eventually find it.”

  She reached for the file. “Mind if I scan it?”

  He shrugged and reached for a muffin. “Help yourself.”

  He ate in silence, enjoying the way she looked as she absently reached for her coffee while poring over the pages of the transcript.

  There was something pleasant and soothing about spending the morning with a woman whose mind was as sharp as a razor even while she looked as fresh and as simple as one of her flowers. He glanced around and found himself smiling at the colorful blossoms spilling out of pottery bowls and vines trailing over the balcony railing. The air was sweet with the perfume of lilies, roses, honeysuckle. A bold finch watched him as it took a bath in the fountain’s spray.

  With just a few touches she’d been able to turn this cramped little apartment into a home, something he and a decorator had been unable to do with his fine big house. It occurred to him that it wasn’t the space so much as the feeling that space conveyed. This place reflected Summer. The things she cared about. His new house was simply a reflection of a stranger’s taste. There was nothing of him there. Probably because he hadn’t wanted to reveal anything of himself. Hadn’t it been that way with his life, so far? No strings. No commitments. Just passing through.

  Absently he wandered inside and rinsed his coffee cup at the sink before heading to the shower. A short time later he stepped onto the balcony to retrieve his papers.

  Summer’s head came up. On her face was a look of contained excitement. “Did you notice that at the trial Alfonso’s wife testified that she wasn’t at home the night of the crime?”

  Cam nodded. “That’s right.”

  “But when the police arrested Alfonso, he told them he’d gone to the store for his wife. And when they went to his house, she answered the door.”

  Cam stepped closer to peer over
Summer’s shoulder. “There might have been enough time for her to return home between the exact hour of the crime and the time when the police arrived at Alfonso’s house to check out his alibi.”

  “Maybe. But who’s to say she ever left the house?” Summer pointed to the transcript. “If she did leave, as she claimed, that means she left her five-year-old son home alone.”

  Cam shrugged. “It happens. Not everyone is a caring, considerate parent. In your line of work I’m sure you hear about kids left home alone every day.”

  Summer nodded. “That’s just it. In most cases the neglectful parent is willing to lie just to avoid the publicity, and sometimes the prosecution and penalty, that are certain to follow. But here’s a woman who could have provided an alibi for her husband, and along with it, proof that she was home with her son. Instead, she testified under oath that she’d left her little son home alone, and that paved the way for her husband to be found guilty of a brutal murder.”

  Cam’s eyes narrowed as he considered the implications. “You think she set him up?”

  Summer shook her head. “I don’t know what to think, Cam. But this is a woman who’s now seeking custody of her son. If she truly loves him, why did she wait so long? And if she doesn’t love him, why is she back to claim her parental rights now?”

  He was nodding. “Yeah. Why is she suddenly in the picture again?”

  As she returned the pages to the folder and closed it, Cam lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Thanks.”

  “I haven’t done anything.”

  He linked her fingers with his, then looked into her eyes. “You saw something I’ve been missing every time I read that transcript.”

  “It could turn out to be nothing.”

  “And it could turn out to be the key I’ve been searching for. No matter what, it’s nice to have someone who shares my interest in this case.”

  She looked at their linked hands. “I may still end up fighting to have Tio returned to his mother.”

  “If you do, it’ll be because you’re convinced that it’s best for him.”

  “My, my.” She touched a hand to his cheek. “It wasn’t that long ago you vowed to fight me with everything you had. How far you’ve come, Mr. Lassiter.”

  He winked, sending her heart into a sudden spiral. “How far we’ve both come, Ms. O’Connor.”

  He picked up the file. “Guess I’d better head home and get dressed for a day at the office.”

  “I think you look just fine the way you are.”

  He laughed. “Thanks. But this doesn’t quite fit the dress code. If I ever showed up at Stern Hayes Wheatley in jeans and a T-shirt they’d fire me on the spot.”

  “It would be their loss.”

  “My champion.” He pulled her close and kissed her. He’d intended it to be a simple touch of mouth to mouth. But the minute their lips met, he felt the sudden rush of heat and couldn’t seem to stop himself. Against her lips he whispered, “You’ve got me thinking I can take on the whole judicial system by myself. And win.”

  Summer could feel her head spinning. Could feel her blood slowly heating and her bones melting like hot wax. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to stay the day. She’d never missed a day of work. Would no more shirk her duty than steal. But in this man’s arms she seemed to lose something of herself.

  He lifted his head and took a step back. “Got to go. Will I see you tonight?”

  She nodded, too overcome to speak.

  “Okay.” He brushed a hand down her hair, then picked up the file and crossed to the door.

  “Wait.” She dashed inside and fumbled in her purse until she found a key. When she held it out he merely looked at her.

  She smiled. “In case you get off work before me. It might be nice to find you here waiting for me.”

  “Yeah. I’d like that, too.” He looked thoughtful as he pocketed the key.

  When he was gone she stood very still, taking several deep breaths to calm her ragged breathing.

  She was in over her head. And what was worse, she didn’t seem to mind in the least.

  She danced around the apartment, locating her briefcase. She couldn’t wait for the day to be over. She didn’t care how much work she was handed. All that mattered was that tonight she and Cam would be together again. Laughing. Loving. And feeling gloriously, joyously alive.

  Chapter 12

  Cam pulled into traffic and pressed the auto dial on his car’s speakerphone.

  “Summer O’Connor here.”

  At the sound of her voice, the heat, the traffic and the work ahead of him seemed to fade away. “How’s your day going?”

  She sighed. “Pretty much as usual. I have six appointments and only time for four, which means I’ll be going without lunch again. A woman claiming to be Tio’s mother phoned, threatening to complain to my superiors if I don’t act immediately on her request for custody of her son. When I explained that it all took time and that I’d need to do an in-home inspection, she hung up on me.” Her tone carried a hint of weariness. “Just another day in the trenches. How’s your day?”

  “After last night, how could it be anything but perfect?” He ignored the blaring of a horn and grinned. “The powers that be at Stern Hayes Wheatley are so confident of the case I’ve prepared for the McGonnagle-Carlson trial, they think the other side will settle.”

  “Oh, Cam, that’s wonderful.”

  “Maybe. I’d prefer to argue my case in front of a jury.”

  “Ever the fighter, aren’t you?”

  He laughed. “Yeah. In or out of the courtroom. But I’ll leave the decision in the hands of others. Right now I’m heading up to another face-to-face with Alfonso Johnson. I want to see if I can jog his memory about his wife’s testimony.”

  “What time do you think you’ll be back?”

  “I should be back in D.C. by early evening, in time to take you somewhere quiet and secluded for dinner.”

  “Hmm.” Her schedule had just become much more tolerable. “Sounds good.”

  “Better than good. It’ll be fantastic. And what I’ve planned for dessert won’t be half-bad either, if a certain gorgeous creature is in the mood.”

  “I’m already in the mood. I’ll see you tonight.”

  After she hung up, Cam adjusted his sunglasses and found himself smiling at the truck driver beside him. His day just kept getting better by the minute.

  On the drive back to the city Cam punched the accelerator and cruised past the few cars that moved along the almost deserted highway. His suit jacket and tie lay discarded on the passenger seat. He’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt above the elbows and lowered the windows, breathing in the fresh air.

  His meeting with Alfonso Johnson had been a disaster. The man’s experiences with lawyers had left him unwilling to trust anyone who represented the law. He’d sat, tight-lipped, eyes burning into Cam’s, without offering a word in his own defense. Even when Cam read Alfonso’s own words proclaiming his innocence to the judge before sentencing, the prisoner refused to comment.

  “So, Alfonso,” Cam had prodded. “Are you innocent, like you claimed? Or are you doing the time you deserve?”

  “You figure it out, smart man.”

  “According to testimony in your trial, the police found you standing over the body, gun in hand. Another man identified you as the gunman.”

  “Looks deceive, and men lie. And the law makes mistakes.” Alfonso had pushed away from the table, signaling an end to their meeting.

  Cam had enough experience with inmates to know that most of them proclaimed their innocence to anyone who would listen. Still, there were enough nagging doubts to make him want to delve deeper. To that end he’d already hired his brother’s security firm to look into a few of the more troubling details. If anyone could dig up the truth, Cam thought, it was his brother Micah.

  Now that his work was done, the rest of this day and night belonged to Summer.

  Turning up the radio, he heard the
voice of Percy Sledge, and joined him, singing at the top of his lungs about when a man loves a woman. A short time later he parked at the Northside Apartments and was out of the car in a flash, dashing toward the elevators.

  He turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, surprised and pleased to see that Summer was already there, standing on the balcony. As he crossed the room he could still catch the faint whiff of her perfume lingering in the air. She hadn’t changed. She was wearing the navy skirt and white blouse. The sight of her, all prim and buttoned up, had him smiling.

  “I thought by now you’d have slipped into something comfortable.”

  She whirled to face him, hand at her throat. Her eyes went wide before she let out a long, slow breath. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Yeah. I can see that.” He could see something else. The fear that had flashed in her eyes before she’d managed to control it. And the way her pulse was beating a frantic tattoo in her throat.

  He ran a hand up her arm. “What’s wrong, Summer?”

  She let out a shaky breath. “There was a message on my machine when I got home.”

  When he merely arched a brow she led him into the kitchen and, without a word, flicked the switch, playing the tape.

  “Little miss social worker.” The voice was little more than a whisper. Low, menacing. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll quit shuffling papers. Remember, I know where to find you.”

  Cam rewound it, playing it again. When it was finished he looked at Summer. “Has he ever called you before?”

  She shook her head.

  “Recognize the voice?”

  “No.”

  “You think this is about Tio Johnson?”

  She swallowed. Nodded. “I have plenty of other cases I’m working on. The caller was careful not to name names. But it sounds to me as though Alfonso Johnson has learned that his wife is seeking custody and he wants to make his feelings known about it.” She could still see, in her mind’s eye, the anger and bitterness that had emanated from him in bitter waves on her visit to prison. “He could have people on the outside watching out for his interests.”