The Law of Attraction (13 page)

“To hell with the rules, Alisha. I've never broken them with any woman before you, so that should tell you how badly I want you.”

She certainly wanted him enough to hurl wisdom out the window. “I know, but I can't help but worry.”

“That you won't be able to trust me?”

The man was intuitive as well as an expert lover. “That has crossed my mind.”

He rolled off her onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Whatever happens between us in this house stays in this house. I don't give a damn about your defense of Massey. And I know that when we walk into that courtroom on Monday, none of this is going to enter into it.”

If only she could be that sure. “Okay. I believe you.” She rested her palm on his chest and slid her fingers through the slight spattering of hair. “We probably should go to bed now. As long as you don't snore.”

He turned toward her, propped up on his elbow, his fist supporting his jaw. “You've decided to sleep with me.”

She smiled. “I suppose we could sleep.”

He stood and pulled her up into his arms, giving her the full benefit of his beautiful body fitted firmly against her. “You are one hell of a sexy woman.”

All the responses came back to Alisha then.
Me, sexy? You can't be serious. You're so full of nonsense.
She didn't voice them and instead replied, “I feel the same about you.”

“You think I'm a sexy woman?”

She rolled her eyes. “You're so amusing, Daniel Fortune.”

“And you make me damn hot, Alisha Hart.” He lifted a curl
and rubbed it against his chin. “But you know, you don't really look like an Alisha, especially when we're making love.”

Making love. A catchall phrase that had become too easy to toss around. “What do I look like? Maybe Pippi?”

“Lola.”

“Okay, I'll be Lola, and you can be…” She tapped a finger on her temple. “Gunther.”

“Fine by me.” He turned her around and patted her bare bottom. “To my bed, Lola.”

“You've got it, Gunther.”

 

Alisha had a seminaked man behind her and her mother on the phone. Not a good combination at all. She would rather hang up and see to that man, but daughterly duty dictated she finish the conversation. However, she was on the verge of burning the omelet and dropping the cell phone if Daniel kept touching her breast.

Wresting out of his grasp, she picked up the pan, dropped it onto a hot pad, turned and leaned back against the counter. Bad move. Now she had a prime view of the premium man standing before her wearing only a towel draped low on his hips. “I'm sorry, Mom. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that your father and I are worried about you representing this lowlife. Do you have some kind of guards around when you have to meet with him?”

“He's in jail, Mother, so of course guards are around. And he's not a rapist, he's an exhibitionist. You don't need to worry. I can handle him.”

Her mother's sigh sounded like a deflating tire. “I'm not so sure about that. Leila May came into the post office on Friday and said she heard that his manhood is as big as an elephant's trunk.”

That was a new one on Alisha. Just like a child's game of gossip, the legend of Les's “manhood” continued to grow, lit
erally. “I'm sure that rumor got started when he was standing in front of the elephants during his show at the zoo.”

“How do you know it's a rumor? Have you seen it?”

“No, I have not seen it, and I don't want to see it.” Daniel chose that moment to open the towel and flash her. She sent him a faux frustrated look and centered her attention on the refrigerator behind him.

When he laughed, Alisha immediately reached out and slapped a hand over his mouth, but not before her mother asked, “Is there a man with you?”

“It's the TV.” Now she'd resorted to lying to her parents. But a necessary lie if she wanted to avoid more questions. “I've got to go, Mom. Breakfast is getting cold.” And Daniel was making her hot.

“Breakfast? It's after noon.”

“Okay, brunch. I slept in late.” Not that she'd gotten any real sleep since dawn, thanks to the promiscuous prosecutor.

“All right, honey. Daddy says hello. Do you want to speak with him?”

Heavens, no. Not with a practically naked man in her presence. “Just tell him I love him. Love you, too.”

She hung up the phone and tossed it aside on the dinette, then gave Daniel a hard stare. “Thanks to you, I was almost busted.”

He released another low laugh and rubbed a hand down his chest. “Your mother doesn't approve of you keeping company with a man?”

“She's fairly open-minded about that sort of thing. But she would ask a lot of questions, including your identity. That would mean skirting the truth, and I don't like to lie to my parents.” Although she already had.

“You could've told her you met some guy named Gunther.”

Alisha went back to the stove and spooned the omelet onto the plate, then yanked open a drawer to retrieve a fork. She turned and held out a bite. “Take a taste.”

“I plan to, then I'll try the eggs.”

She couldn't move fast enough to avoid his arms coming around her, not that she really wanted to avoid him. He took the plate and set it aside, then hoisted her up on the counter.

“You're bad, Daniel Fortune,” she said when he opened her robe, exposing her breasts.

He ran a fingertip over the calling card he'd left last night with his mouth. “It's still there.”

“I told you it doesn't take much to mark me. It will probably be there for a few days.”

“When it goes away, let me know. I'd be glad to give you another one, anywhere you want me to put it.”

Thoughts of last night's interlude came back to her in vivid detail. “I'll keep that in mind, but right now I have to think about going home.”

He opened her robe completely, leaving nothing to the imagination and everything at the mercy of his hands. “Are you sure about that?”

No, she wasn't, but if she didn't leave now, she might never go. With the last of her strength Alisha removed those hands and clasped the robe shut. “I had a great time this weekend.”

“So did I. It's the first time I've slept all night.”

“Almost all night. If I recall, you were quite up before dawn.”

He grinned. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Can't say that I'm sorry. But now I have to grab a shower and get home.”

He laid his palms on her bare thighs below where the robe had conveniently parted. “I'll take one with you.”

She frowned. “You've already had one.”

“I'll take another one. I have an adequate hot-water heater.”

Everything about him was more than adequate. “You're not going to let me go without a fight, are you?”

He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I don't think I am. At least not for another hour or so.”

Another hour or so. A reminder that after this little weekend escape Alisha might not see him again, at least until the
trial was over. Maybe not even then. If he lived up to his love-'em-and-leave-'em reputation, then she could be left a lot sooner than she would like. But she'd known that when she'd entered into this forbidden liaison. Still, that didn't make it any easier.

Without warning, Daniel wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled her from the counter. When he headed toward the bathroom, she didn't have the strength to protest. She didn't have the desire to object. She'd save all her arguments for court. Right now she wanted to lose herself in Daniel Fortune—and hope she didn't remain lost to him indefinitely.

 

An hour later Daniel awoke to find Alisha had left the bed without his knowledge. If she had already headed home, she was definitely going to hear about it. He tossed back the covers, grabbed his jeans from the nearby chair and tugged them on. On his way out of the bedroom he put on the flannel shirt without bothering to button it. He entered the living room and saw her bags resting at the door. That gave him some measure of relief, although he didn't like the thought of her leaving.

In the kitchen Daniel found her wiping down the counters after clearing away the breakfast they hadn't eaten. “I thought you'd already gone.”

She swiped the dishrag over the stove. “No, but I'm about to.”

“You were going to leave without telling me goodbye?”

After tossing the rag aside, Alisha faced him. “You were sleeping so soundly, I hated to wake you.”

He pulled her into his arms. “First rule—and you already know it—don't ever leave me again without saying something.”

“Okay. What's the second rule?”

He'd never had a set of rules in regard to relationships beyond no rules. No commitment. No exceptions. He'd make an exception for Alisha. “The next time I see you, wear that black silk gown again.”

She stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “That might seem rather odd during voir dire tomorrow morning.”

He could go the rest of the month without having to deal with the damn trial, particularly picking a jury, his least favorite aspect. “I meant the next time I see you alone.”

“Which will be after the trial.”

Daniel hated that reminder. Hated that the weekend had come to an end and that politics and his profession would keep him from her for at least a few days. “Yeah. After the trial.”

“Speaking of the trial,” she said. “I have to go so I can get some work done.”

She passed by him in a rush, evading his grasp when he reached for her. He'd be damned if he would let her leave without a goodbye kiss. In the living room she picked up her bags and went out the door before he even got the chance to attempt a kiss. But he wasn't going to let the chance pass him by.

Once they reached her car, he took her bags from her, tossed them into the back seat, then pulled her into his arms. “Are you sure you don't want to stay another night? We could drive in together.”

“Oh, right. You and me showing up at the courthouse hand in hand, like best buddies.”

“Bed buddies,” he said with a smile that faded when he noticed she didn't seem to appreciate the humor. “And what I meant was, I could follow you into the city. Make sure you got back okay.”

“It's broad daylight, Daniel. I'll be fine. I have my cell phone if I have any problems. Or if you're ready to go now, I can wait.”

“Unfortunately I have to pack up and lock up. Plus I thought I might try to fish a little while this afternoon.”

“You don't have anything to do to get ready for tomorrow?”

He did, but it wouldn't take that long. “I'm ready.” More than ready to drag her back into the house if she didn't get out of there now. He didn't understand why he couldn't seem
to get enough of her, but he'd take that thought out and examine it later.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly. Kissed her for a long time until he thought they might just go down to the ground and get it on in the driveway.

Alisha pulled away first, then patted his jaw. “It's been great, Gunther.”

He patted her butt. “Yeah, Lola. Let's do it again. Real soon.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, a salute, then opened her door and slid inside. “Do me a favor, Daniel.”

“What?”

“Try not to screw me in court tomorrow during jury selection.”

“That would probably earn us a contempt charge.”

“Ha-ha.” She started the ignition, his cue to close the door. He couldn't resist getting one last kiss, even a chaste one, before he let her leave.

She smiled in response. “See you in court.”

“W
e really got screwed today, Hart.”

Joe wasn't saying anything that Alisha didn't already know. Due to a temporary power outage and persistent press, they'd gotten a late start. Even so, the large jury pool should have been to their benefit, but they'd ended up with a less-than-favorable panel for the defense. Seven men, four women, all over the age of fifty-nine except for two, both men in their midthirties. No one near Les Massey's twenty-five.

Joe stood inside her office doorway, one hand braced on the jamb. “Remind me about that whole peer thing again.”

“I know, I know.” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. “But it could be worse.”

“True. We could've gotten the guy who thought the whole way to handle Les Massey was to take him out back and cut off his ‘tallywhacker.' Hadn't heard that euphemism since high school.”

“Let's hope we don't have others who feel that way and just didn't happen to be as honest about their objectivity.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Hart.”

Alisha looked up to see the forty-something Penney Smiley, the new temp, standing beside Joe holding a white box tied in a red bow. She had a winning grin that matched her name, a professional demeanor and a pleasant disposition, even if she still had a poufy eighties hairdo complete with wings. “Yes, Penney?”

The woman stepped forward and offered Alisha the mystery gift. “The florist delivered this earlier.”

Joe surveyed the package while Alisha untied the ribbon. “Maybe we should call the bomb squad before you open that,” he said.

Alisha picked it up and put it to her ear. “I don't hear anything ticking, so I think it's safe.” She hoped it was safe. And it was. A dozen long-stem red roses bound by another ribbon with a card attached. She removed the pin, opened the envelope and smiled.
Thanks for the great weekend. Gunther.

Before she could prepare, Joe grabbed the card from her grasp and read it. “Who's Gunther?”

“Give me that.” Penney snatched the card back and handed it to Alisha. “A girl should be entitled to her secrets.”

Alisha liked this woman more and more. “Thanks, Penney.”

“You still didn't answer my question, Hart,” Joe said. “Who's Gunther?”

“None of your business. Any messages, Penney?”

“Only a few from reporters who want an interview with Mr. Massey. I told them absolutely not.”

“Good job, Penney. You can go now. And, Joe, you go home to your wife and get a good night's sleep so you're ready to roll in the morning.”

Joe straightened his tie and his shoulders. “I'll try, but my wife just can't resist me.”

Alisha barely resisted the urge to plant the box in his
mouth. “Julie told me that all she wants to do lately is sleep, so give it a rest.”

Joe screwed up his face into a frown. “You women are no fun whatsoever.”

Alisha exchanged a knowing look with Penney, then stood. “Fun will be put on the back burner until this trial is over.” And that applied to her situation with Daniel, as well. They'd barely looked at each other today, had barely spoken other than to deliver polite hellos. And that was how it would remain for the time being. She did consider calling to thank him for the flowers but thought better of it.

She would take the roses home and remember the weekend while lying awake in her lonely bed. For now that would have to do.

 

He knew he shouldn't call her, but Daniel found himself picking up the phone and dialing her number. When she answered with her standard, “Alisha Hart,” he hesitated for a moment before he said, “You looked good today in court.”

“Daniel, you know—”

“I know, but I wanted to hear your voice.”

“You heard it several times today.”

“Yeah, but it's not the same when you're operating in an official capacity. I like the way you sound now, really sexy.”

“Are you trying to make up for stacking the odds against me with that joke of a jury?”

“That's business, Alisha. And I don't want to talk about that. Did you get the flowers?”

“Yes, and they're beautiful. But wasn't that kind of risky?”

“That's the good thing about the Internet. Ordering online provides some anonymity, although I would have preferred to pick them out myself.”

“It's the thought that counts, right? And the Gunther thing was very clever. Joe's still trying to figure that one out.”

Daniel was trying to figure out why he couldn't keep his
mind off her. Why he'd sent her flowers when he hadn't done that in ages. “I thought that might throw him off track.”

“It did.”

He stretched out on his back across the bed, wishing she was beside him. Or beneath him. Or on top of him. “Are you wearing that little black gown tonight?”

“No. I haven't even changed out of my clothes yet. I was about to take a shower right before you called.”

“Take off your clothes now.”

Her breath released slowly. “You're not proposing we have phone sex, are you?”

Not necessarily a bad idea. “No. I'm going to save myself for the next time we're together. I just want to fantasize about you while you're talking to me naked.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Not a damn thing.” When she didn't immediately respond, he said, “Are you still there?”

“Yes. I just had a momentary lapse of consciousness. Where are you?”

“Lying in my bed on top of the covers. Are you going to do it or am I going to have to come over there and do it for you?”

“That might be really nice.”

“Are you serious? Because I could be over there—”

“No,” she said quickly. “You need to stay right where you are.”

“I will if you'll take off your clothes.”

“Okay. Hang on a minute.”

He heard her put down the phone, and after a few agonizing moments when Daniel pictured her undressing, she finally spoke again. “I'm done.”

“You took it all off?”

“I still have on my panties.”

“What do they say?”

“You're crazy.”

He chuckled. “No kidding?”

“Yes, I'm kidding. They don't say anything.”

“Take them off.”

“If you insist.”

“I insist.”

She paused for another moment. “All done. What now?”

“Run your hand down your stomach.”

“I thought we weren't going to have phone sex.”

“We're not. I just want you to imagine my hand on you and how it's going to be when we're together again. Are you doing it?”

“Yes.” Her voice floated out on a breathy whisper.

“You don't have to stop, Alisha. You can close your eyes and keep right on going. Just pretend it's me touching you.”

“I want to wait, too,” she said. “I need to wait until you're doing it.”

“I want to do it. I'm so hard right now I could forget why I can't see you and be over there in fifteen minutes.”

“But you won't come over. You'll wait until the time is right. And, Daniel?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm going to put my hands all over you the next time. And my mouth. Sleep well.”

Sleep well? Not in this lifetime.

The line went dead, but that certainly didn't describe his body's current state. He had a painful erection and a long, hard night ahead of him.

Tomorrow he would be forced to focus on the case at hand. He would give no indication that he was battling feelings for the defender that he couldn't begin to comprehend. He would become the prosecutor—committed, reserved, driven—even if it was only a show.

 

Showtime. And what a show it was, Alisha thought as she scanned the crowded courtroom. Behind the prosecution's table sat a few citizens sporting disapproving stares aimed at
the accused. Members of the press lined the walls, including several sketch artists. Immediately behind her, a rowdy, restless group of women of all ages who held up signs that read Masses for Massey and Les is More. She'd expected that, but she hadn't expected to see Anna Marie Pettigrew, the estranged wife of one of the most powerful men in town. Very, very odd indeed and somewhat amusing.

When the bailiff appeared to announce the arrival of the judge,
All rise
took on a whole new meaning. Alisha would swear that the groupies stood and leaned forward, simultaneously centering their gazes on Les. More accurately, below Les's belt.

Judge Slagle braced both hands on his lectern like a preacher about to deliver hellfire and brimstone from his pulpit. A preacher with thick glasses, a shaggy mustache and scraggly thin hair. “Okay, folks, as y'all probably know, we're already two hours late getting started because people have forgotten their manners. Now I don't think I have to remind you that this is a courtroom, not a pep rally. If anyone here sees fit to cause a ruckus, I'll have you removed quicker than a greased-up pig avoiding Sunday dinner. Now y'all take a seat and let's get this show on the road.”

After everyone was seated, Slagle addressed Daniel. “You're up, Counselor.”

Daniel scooted back his chair, came to his feet and strolled to the jury box. Alisha had avoided really looking at him until that moment, with good reason. But she was enthralled by the way he addressed the jurors, one hand in his pocket and one braced on the railing. He had such fantastic hands with square, blunt fingers and neatly manicured nails. Today he wore a gold ring on his right pinkie and she wondered if perhaps it was a lucky charm. And lucky her, she knew how those hands felt on her body. All over her body. She turned her attention to his wide shoulders encased in a navy-blue jacket that fit him to perfection. That jacket hid one of his finer attributes—his
butt—but Alisha knew that terrain well, without clothing of any kind. A first-date shiver ran through her entire body.

“Are you okay, Hart?”

Alisha answered Joe with a befuddled look, proving she wasn't okay. She hadn't been paying attention to the prosecutor's opening remarks because she'd been paying close attention to his finer qualities. And she needed to stop. But before she went back to her notes, she glanced over her shoulder to find that Les's cheerleaders also seemed totally awed by the A.D.A. She wouldn't be a bit surprised if someone held up a new sign that said Females for Fortune. No doubt he would pick up more than a few votes for his future campaign.

Forcing herself back to the situation at hand, she zeroed in on Daniel's voice only to hear him say, “And that is what we will prove.”

What exactly was he going to prove? Alisha truly had no idea. She certainly couldn't ask the court reporter to read back the opening statements. That would be grand.
Excuse me, Your Honor, but I was momentarily caught in a carnal frenzy, so if you don't mind…

“Ms. Hart, your turn.”

After clearing her throat, Alisha stood and approached the jurors the same way Daniel had, only she braced both hands on the rail. “Ladies and gentlemen, the prosecution will no doubt try to paint the defendant, Mr. Massey, as a commonplace pervert with violent tendencies. And I will prove that although Mr. Massey's actions might seem unorthodox, he is a man with a cause. Several causes, in fact.”

Alisha ignored the sounds of approval coming from across the room, turned her back to the rail and leaned against it. She purposefully leveled her gaze on Daniel. “The prosecution would have you believe that Mr. Massey's behavior was obscene. I would just like to say that many believe the human form is a true work of art. People with names like Bellini, Degas and da Vinci. A work of art that should be appreciated
and savored. Enjoyed as a gift.” She paused to draw a breath when she noted a definite change in Daniel's eyes. He was remembering their weekend, she could almost bet on it, and maybe that wasn't playing fair at all. But after the jury selection debacle and his inadvertent distraction a few minutes ago, turnabout was definitely fair play. “Mr. Massey has chosen to use his body as an art form—”

“Amen!” resounded from the spectators, followed by a few shouts of “Hallelujah!”

Slagle banged his gavel and sneered. “Hush up now, or you gals are out of here.” He looked at Alisha. “Go ahead, Counselor.”

Alisha turned back to the jury, fearful that she might stop thinking with Daniel staring at her. He was still staring at her. She could feel it. “As I was saying, Mr. Massey used his body as a means to garner attention for what he believes to be worthwhile endeavors. In this country we are—or should be—able to express ourselves freely. And that is what we will show—that Mr. Massey on three separate occasions engaged in self-expression, not public lewdness or indecency. His conduct was not disorderly, nor did he knowingly knock anyone down. He never intended to cause anyone harm and he does not deserve to be put on trial for exercising freedom. If we can no longer enjoy that freedom, then, ladies, who's to say you might not be charged with some meaningless crimes while at the beach in a bathing suit? Or, gentlemen, mowing your lawn without your shirt? And while you're listening to the prosecution's questionable case, please keep that in mind. Thank you.”

After Alisha was seated, Les leaned over and said, “That was great. I like the whole artist thing and that freedom stuff. Makes me sound kind of sophisticated.”

That was definitely a stretch. “Don't get too excited. Tomorrow will be the real test when you're on the stand. We'll go over that this evening.”

Alisha looked up to see Slagle talking with the court reporter. He straightened and said, “Because of the time, we're going to recess for an early lunch. Court will reconvene at one o'clock.”

Everyone rose until the judge retired. Alisha caught a quick glance at Daniel, who was keeping company with a reporter. A gorgeous brunette with big brown eyes and a pink suit that set off her olive complexion. Who wore pink in the dead of winter? Obviously this woman did, and she could get away with it. She could probably get away with anything, maybe even Daniel Fortune.