Sleeping With the Opposition (Bad Boy Bosses) (4 page)

Mr. Russo smiled and squeezed Leo’s arms. “I’m just glad you’re here now. Two busy lawyers.” He clucked like a mother hen. “Look at you. You probably haven’t eaten a good meal in weeks.”

He made a show out of stretching this way and that to look over Leo’s shoulder. “But where is the lovely Mrs. Markham? Don’t tell me you’re making her park the car? What is this modern world coming to? Don’t get me wrong, I believe in gender equality, and I love an independent woman”— he winked—“but chivalry is still important, and don’t you forget it.”

Leo hoped Russo would never find out about the problems between him and Bria. It would break the old man’s heart, and Mr. Russo had suffered enough when Jason died two years ago of a blood clot to the brain.

The door opened, letting in a cold breeze. Autumn had come to New York, and the chilly nights seemed to be a warning that this winter was bound to be an extra-cold one.

“Brianna!” The old man quickly brushed past Leo to enfold the woman who’d just entered his restaurant in an exuberant Italian embrace.

Leo turned to watch, his chest constricting as his achingly beautiful wife smiled warmly and kissed both of Mr. Russo’s cheeks with obvious affection. Her own cheeks were pink from the cold, her long hair disarmingly windblown. Her brightly colored scarf—a gift from her mother last Christmas—was pulled half out of her jacket and over her shoulder as if the wind had tried to take it for a joyride.

“How are you, Mr. Russo?” she asked in a breathless voice.

“Good, good,” he said with a gentle pat of her cheek. “But the two of you must be starving; it’s so late already.”

She looked up then, pretending she’d only just noticed that Leo was there, too.

With the devil riding shotgun over him, he bent over to drop a kiss on her cheek, knowing she wouldn’t say a word in protest because of their audience.

She tensed but didn’t draw away, so he let himself linger, but her tension only fueled all the frustration he’d been holding in.

He drew a deep breath. She smelled like fresh air and red licorice—her favorite guilty pleasure.

She finally pulled back with an overt glare as Russo stepped ahead and ushered them into the dining room to a private spot in a shadowy, quiet corner.

Bria hesitated as they neared their regular table and looked around at the other empty spots around it, obviously debating whether or not to ask for a different seat. But when she saw that the wine had already been poured, candles lit, and a basket of bread placed in the center of the table, she shut her mouth. Such a small thing, but Bria would worry about hurting the old man’s feelings. She wouldn’t want Mr. Russo to think, even for a moment, that he’d done anything improper by making such an assumption.

Leo sometimes wondered how she could be such an effective lawyer and have such a soft heart at the same time, but it was yet another of the thousands of reasons why he’d fallen in love with her so damn hard.

“You see, I have everything ready for you,” Russo said proudly, clapping his hands together. “And there’s a mouthwatering manicotti in the kitchen with your names on it. Relax now and have some bread. Dinner will be served shortly.”

Left to themselves, Bria’s smile quickly faded. “Here, let me take your coat,” he said with his arm outstretched.

She looked at him with alarm and almost refused, but suddenly glanced at the couple finishing their dessert a few tables away and stopped herself again. Should he be grateful for her impeccable manners? If she’d turned him down, would he have quietly accepted defeat, or caused the scene she was so obviously looking to avoid?

He stifled a grin. Probably better not explore that too closely. Instead, as she turned to give him her back and he slipped the jacket off her shoulders, he started thinking of the many ways he could use this hesitation of hers to his benefit.

The table was set into a semicircular booth. As Bria slid in, her skirt rode up to her thighs, making him remember all the times they’d crawled in there together and sat so close they’d practically been sharing the same depression in the leather bench cushion. So close, he’d been able to slip his hands under her clothes and touch her in places, do things to her in public, that made her eyelids flutter as she’d whispered sexy little pleas against his mouth.

She’d been different since coming home from the hospital, which he’d expected. But he hadn’t expected the disappointment in her eyes when she looked at him. She’d kept asking him to talk about the miscarriage and the baby, like tearing open all the wounds would make anything better for both of them. She was already devastated, and adding to that with his own broken feelings would be selfish and would only double her pain.

And so she’d shut down, and he’d lost the Bria he loved. But last night, something had shifted when he’d thrown down that challenge between them. It was as if the real Bria was coming back to life. She seemed more determined than ever to get what she thought she wanted, and at least she wasn’t immune to him anymore. She was
seeing
him again, anyway. It was in the flush of her cheeks as she sat stiffly on the edge of the seat nearest the other diners instead of moving closer to the middle of the bench, deeper into the intimate shadows with him.

He watched her, and she met his gaze head-on.
That’s my girl.
He almost smiled, a sliver of hope blooming.
Prove you can still go toe-to-toe with me.

A tinny crash shattered the relative quiet of the restaurant as one of the servers heading to the kitchen dropped what sounded like an entire tray of silverware. Bria’s gaze quickly shifted to look…and didn’t return to him. She’d used it as an excuse to break their contact.

A heavy melancholy settled over him, but he angrily shook it off. He’d never failed at anything before and didn’t want to believe that the first time would be such a monstrous failure. But Leo was nothing if not goal-oriented. When something ceased working, stopped making sense, stopped yielding results…

He had to take back control of his life, one way or another. After a long minute, he lifted his wineglass in a toast. “Here’s to the future.”

Her eyes widened in dismay.

…

“Relax, Bria,” Leo said coolly before she could object. “I only meant to congratulate you on the new job and the big client.”

The look on his face was one she’d seen a hundred times. She’d never been the recipient of it before, but she knew it all the same. It was his courtroom face, the stony expression with a hint of smugness.

It meant he was certain that he was going to win.

He was playing her, setting her up just like he’d set up a witness on the stand. Every word, every action, was a move on the chessboard. But what did he want to win? Was it really just about the house?

She lifted her wineglass, eyeing him over the rim. “You think you have this nailed, don’t you?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” he answered, face splitting into his most charming grin.

Oh yeah, he thought he had this nailed—
her
nailed. He thought he would play on their past, their feelings for each other, and their sexual chemistry—
staggering
sexual chemistry—and she’d forget herself. She’d fall in line and give him exactly what he wanted.

“Not everything in life is about winning, you know.” She wasn’t talking about the case anymore…and he knew it.

He leaned back in the seat and looked her up and down, apparently deeply amused. Of course he was amused, because that was a safe emotion that wouldn’t make him vulnerable. “Oh, really? I don’t believe I’ve come across that particular situation yet.”

He’d always said that a problem was simply something to be attacked from as many angles as it took to reshape it into an advantage. Up until now, Bria had been an advantage to him, but suddenly, she’d become a problem. Although, from his purposely casual posture to the gleam in his eyes, it appeared he didn’t believe she was a very big one.

He was in for a surprise.

“Don’t get too excited for me and my new job,” she warned with a tight smile, crossing her legs under the dinner table and taking a generous sip of the bold red wine. She hadn’t had anything with alcohol in it since coming off the pain meds a few weeks ago. It warmed her insides going down and gave her a little extra courage. “Since my new big client is going head-to-head with your new client, and I have every intention of being the one who comes out on top at the end of the day.”

He leaned over the table and gazed at her with a blistering intensity. “We both know that you like it best when I’m the one on top, Bria.”

She sucked in a hard breath. The candle’s glow made his eyes sparkle, or maybe that was a gleam of satisfaction because he’d succeeded in making her blush.

If he was out to win at any cost, he was off to a good start. She swallowed as unbidden images cascaded through her mind and started a chain reaction of heat in her body.

A conditioned response, that’s all it is
, she tried to tell herself. They’d spent the last four years together. Her body had trained itself to respond to him.

“If that’s how you plan to address me in front of the judge and jury when the time comes,” she said tightly, “I think I’ll have grounds for your removal from the case, after all.”

“You keep threatening to have me removed, sweetheart, because that’s the only way you’ll ever beat me in a courtroom,” he promised with a wolfish grin.

He was so sure of himself. Her blood boiled. She was just as good at her job as people like Leo and Nadia Foster. Maybe she was more reserved in her approach, preferring to focus on resolving files instead of taking them to trial, and maybe she hadn’t done enough tooting of her own horn. But she’d stupidly believed she would be recognized for her achievements, despite the lack of splashy headlines.

“I don’t need to get rid of you to win this case, Leo.” She put down her wineglass and crossed her arms. “Consider yourself lucky that you’ve never had to go up against me before.”

“You’re a brilliant lawyer, sweetheart, but you’re not as ruthless as I am. You know I’ll do whatever it takes to win.” He put his glass down, too. Her gaze followed, watching him twirl the delicate stem so smoothly there was barely a ripple across the surface of his wine.

Those hands. Rough calluses and scraped knuckles, but achingly gentle at the same time. Playing her body like a musical instrument, turning her into a shuddering, crying mess of need, begging him for more.

She shook herself and looked up, feeling hot and needy already, meeting his deep, focused gaze with a hard swallow. He watched her as if he knew what she’d been thinking, and she quickly glanced away.

She refused to let him get under her skin. Personally or professionally.

Mr. Russo returned at that moment with their dinner. Leo shifted his attention and thanked the man for taking care of them. Real warmth and affection shone from Leo’s eyes. It was one of the things Bria had loved about Leo—his devotion to those he cared about—except that it made her throat uncomfortably tight right now.

“It’s late. Almost everyone’s gone,” he said to Mr. Russo and nodded at all the empty chairs around them. “Why don’t you sit and have some of this with us? As usual, you’ve made way too much for two humans to eat in one sitting.”

Bria laughed and agreed. “Please.” Leo slid farther into the booth to make room, which consequently brought him much closer to her. She stiffened but forced a smile. “Don’t make me put up with Leo all by myself. He’s being insufferable, as usual.” She said it jokingly, but suddenly, Leo wasn’t smiling anymore.

She held her breath. Mr. Russo glanced between the two of them and shook his head. “I have to help the kids clean up the kitchen, or nobody will ever get out of here on time.” He made his excuses, but there was a shadow of concern in his face when he looked between the two of them. “Eat. Talk. Relax. I think maybe the two of you need some time alone, no?”

Bria held her breath. Leo looked up and nodded. “Thank you for everything. I’m sure the food is delicious, as always.”

“But the company is better, no?” Mr. Russo said with a gleam in his eye as if he were already planning how to jump-start the romance here at the table. Bria wouldn’t be surprised if the next time he stopped by to ask how dinner was going, he brought an accordion and started playing that “Bella Notte” song from
Lady and the Tramp
.

After Mr. Russo left for the kitchen, Leo didn’t move back to his spot across from her. He pulled his plate over instead. His leg casually pressed against hers, a rock-solid slab of warm muscle at her side, and his arm was
right there
, so close, the little hairs on her forearm stood on end as if every fiber of her were being drawn to him. As usual, he gave off heat like an oven, sending her body into overdrive…or at least, that’s what she blamed for her flushed cheeks and quickening pulse.

She couldn’t put any space between them, either. There was nowhere for her to go but over the edge of the seat onto the floor, and she refused to tell him to move, thereby making it obvious that his nearness could still have such an effect on her. So she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore him.

But ignoring Leo was not easy. It had never been easy. Ignoring Leo was like ignoring the thundering of your own heartbeat with your hand pressed right up to your chest. It was like ignoring the heavy panting of your own breaths while running a marathon. He was almost always cocky and aggressive. He was brash and confident. He was unavoidable, all-consuming, undeniable.

Especially when his focus was fixed on her, which it was now. He seemed to be waiting for her to start eating, and he nodded when she put a forkful of pasta in her mouth.

“Why are you watching me like you’re a step away from forcing this food down my throat?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m not.”

Liar
. He thought she’d lost too much weight but didn’t dare say anything about it. Annoyance got the better of her. “Lucky for you, it’s not your job to worry about me anymore,” she snapped.