Too Charming (3 page)

Barely believing she was doing it, Megan climbed into her car and drove the few miles to the local law chambers where Scott worked. If she had to grovel, she told herself as she parked up next to a snazzy sports car, it was best to do it in person. With the countdown to the end of the school day ticking in her head, she dashed over to the impressive old building and rang the bell. Mercifully, when she told the answering clerk who she wanted to see, she was buzzed through. It meant that Scott was still in his chambers. It didn’t necessaril
y mean he would want to see her, or that his offer still stood.

Though she’d been in the chambers before, she couldn’t help but be impressed by them all over again. What must it be like to work out of this beautiful Georgian building, rather than the seventies police station where she spent her days? Here the decor was simple and elegant. It spoke of discre
et wealth and sophisticated taste. In the police station the decor was functional and drab. It spoke of poor funding and hard-nosed officers.

‘DS Taylor.’

Megan assumed the lady sitting at the desk in the reception area must be the clerk. Middle-aged, slightly portly and very smartly dressed, she looked highly efficient. Not, Megan thought with a small smile to herself, Scott’s idea of his ideal clerk. That was probably someone younger, blonder, with pneumatic bosoms and a plunging cleavage. She doubted this lady flashed her cleavage at anyone. Not even her husband.

‘I wasn’t aware you had an appointment?’

‘Err, no, I don’t actually,’ Megan stumbled over her words. God, she hated asking for favours. Especially when she knew she would probably live to regret it. ‘But I was hoping Scott would be able to see me anyway?’

The lady nodded, though not a single hair on her immaculate head moved. ‘I’m sure he will. He’s in his office. I’ll just ring and let him know you’re here.’

‘If you don’t mind, can I just go through?’ Megan didn’t want to take the risk that Scott would fob her off through the clerk.

‘Sure, go right ahead. His office is the first on the left.’

As Megan crossed the expensive wine-red carpet, she was annoyed to find her pulse racing erratically. For the first time in her many encounters with Scott, she felt firmly on the back foot. A fact that made her even more uncomfortable than usual. Taking in a deep breath, she knocked on his door.

‘Come in.’ Scott’s deep voice resonated through the woodwork.

Sitting at a large, old-fashioned desk, Scott didn’t immediately look up when she entered, so Megan stood in the doorway and took the opportunity to study his surroundings. And him. The room was traditionally furnished, with solid antique furniture and warm red walls. Scott had taken off his jacket but was still wearing his white court shirt, though the top buttons were open and the collar carelessly discarded on a nearby chair. Cufflinks had also been abandoned and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to reveal tanned and muscular forearms.

Ignoring the prickle of awareness, she cleared her throat. ‘Sorry to disturb you.’

Scott looked up with a start. Clearly she was the very last person he’d expected. ‘Detective,’ he drawled, pushing back against his chair. ‘To what do I owe this honour?’

‘I was wondering.’ She looked down to find with horror that she was wringing her hands. For goodness sake, just ask him and be done with it. ‘Does your offer to look after Sally still stand?’

Scott smiled to himself. Ah, so that’s what she was after. No wonder she was looking so anxious. Still damnably hot, but anxious nonetheless. ‘Pretty desperate now, huh?’ he asked, knowing full well that if she’d had to come back to him, every one of her usual fallback options must have failed. He had absolutely no doubt that he was at the very bottom of her
only in dire emergencies, if every other person I know can’t help out
list.

He watched as she opened her mouth, clearly about to protest. Then she shut it again and shifted awkwardly. ‘As a matter of fact, yes.’

A slow grin slid across his face. ‘Well, it seems I finally have you right where I want you, DS Taylor.’

‘Oh? Where, exactly, is that?’

‘In need of my help. Prepared to agree to anything in order to get it.’

Megan stared back in astonishment. ’Don’t tell me the offer to look after Sally was just part of your plan to get me into bed?’ Her tone was scathing, her look withering. Then she shook her head, as if she had trouble believing he’d actually said what he had. That made two of them, Scott thought glumly. ‘Well, I tell you what. Forget it.’ She turned and headed for the door.

‘What about Sally?’ Scott asked, in between cursing himself and his big mouth. Sometimes he took this cocky git persona too far.

‘I’ll manage.’

Exhaling in frustration he reached behind her to the handle, stopping her from opening the door. ‘If you’ll just calm down for a minute, Megan.’

‘I am calm,’ she bit back, turning to face him. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I have a daughter to pick up.’

Feeling like the lowlife she thought him to be, he stepped immediately away. ‘Look, I didn’t mean anything by my earlier remark. It was a stupid joke.’ He knew his voice carried a hint of desperation, but that’s how he felt. ‘If you still need my help, I’m happy to give it.’

‘And what do you expect in return?’

He closed his eyes briefly. ‘I repeat. It was a joke,’ he replied heavily, moving away and thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘I expect nothing in return,’ he continued flatly. ‘Absolutely nothing, not even your thanks.’

Megan studied him, struggling to decide whether she should leave Sally in his care. ‘Well of course you’ll have my thanks,’ she replied carefully. ‘I’d be really grateful, it’s just …’

‘You won’t be grateful enough to buy me a drink. Yeah, I get it.’ He stalked back to his desk and grabbed his jacket. ‘Come on then. Let’s go and collect your daughter.’

Following him back through the chambers, acutely aware of his rigid shoulders and battling to keep up with his punishingly long strides, Megan found herself wondering if maybe Scott Armstrong wasn’t quite as thick skinned as she’d originally thought. What he’d said had been unbelievably crass, but right now he had all the bearings of a man who’d just been mortally offended.

Chapter Three

Driving through the busy traffic towards the school, Megan kept glancing sideways at Scott. The closer she got, the more she started to doubt her sanity – and her instincts as a mother. Could she really leave Scott, a man she might trust – but barely liked – in charge of her
daughter
? Sure, Sally wouldn’t come to any harm with him, but what was she going to think, being bundled off with someone she’d never met before? As she pulled into the school car park, Megan made up her mind. She was going to tell him thanks, but no thanks. She’d take Sally with her to court. Take her chances on finding a spare office and a kind court official.

‘Having second thoughts?’

Scott raked her with his cool, sardonic gaze. Damn the man. He knew bloody well what she’d been thinking and now, in order to back out, she’d have to admit he was right. Call her pathetic, but that really galled.

As they climbed out of the car, she was saved an immediate reply by the appearance of Sally herself. As always, just seeing her daughter was enough to lift her heart. One sock up, one down, her blouse hanging out of her skirt, half her dark hair falling out of the plaits she’d painstakingly put together this morning. No, not the smartest pupil in the school, but she’d defy anyone to say she wasn’t the most gorgeous.

‘Mum.’ Clearly expecting to see her grandparents, Sally dashed over to her and flung her arms around her neck. ‘Why are you here?’

Scott watched the interaction between mother and daughter with interest. Sally
looked so much like a tiny version of her mothe
r–
it was incredible. Whoever the father was, he clearly featured as little in the genetic makeup of his child as he did in her life. The dark hair, big blue eyes and dimpled smile were all there, only in miniature. Scott would bet his bottom dollar that outside work Megan was probably as untidy as hell, just like it appeared her daughter was.

‘Grandma’s had a little accident.’ Megan was saying, bending down to Sally’s height. ‘She’ll be fine but she and Granddad can’t look after you today.’

Sally nodded, taking it all in. ‘So what’s going to happen to me? Will you come home?’

‘Well …’

‘Your Mum has got to answer some questions in court today.’ Scott bent down so he, too, was eye level with Sally. ‘I’m Scott, a friend of your mum. Pleased to meet you.’ Unsure of how he should greet a kid, he decided to stick with adult rules and held out his hand.

Sally frowned and glanced up at her mother.

‘I think he’s expecting you to shake his hand, Sally,’ Megan replied dryly. ‘It’s what grownups do when they meet each other.’

Smiling shyly, Sally put her small hand in his and shook.

‘The thing is,’ Scott continued. ‘We wondered, while your mum’s in court, if you wouldn’t mind looking after me for a bit. You know, maybe take me to the park? Make sure I don’t get into trouble. That sort of thing.’

Sally giggled. ‘You don’t need looking after.’

‘I might do when I get to the park. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a slide.’

Listening to Scott, Megan found her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Where was the awkwardness she’d expected from him? It seemed the bachelor barrister had a surprisingly good rapport with children. At least if her grinning daughter was anything to go by.

‘Okay. I’ll look after you at the park.’

At Sally’s happy agreement, Scott shot Megan a look laced with barefaced triumph. It left her with a strong desire to scream, something he obviously guessed, from the amusement that danced in his eyes. But as she silently fumed next to him, she knew she was powerless to do anything other than accept the situation. Sally had just happily agreed to go to the park with him. It was exactly what Megan herself had wanted half an hour ago. So why did it now feel as if she’d seized defeat from the jaws of victory?

‘Well, if you’re sure …’ she began, but even as she said the words, Scott and Sally were walking back towards the car, chatting away as if they’d known each other for years. Megan made a mental note: have a word with Sally about being won over so quickly by handsome and charming boys.

A short while later, Scott glanced down at his temporary charge as she watched her mother disappear through the court doors. Outwardly at least, she didn’t seem too concerned. It was he who was anxiously twitching his fingers, wracking his brain for something to say. Megan’s earlier words came floating back to him. He didn’t have any experience of dealing with children. Scarily true. As an only child, he didn’t have nieces or nephews to practice the finer points of childcare on. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually spoken to a child, since he’d been one himself. Then he looked again at Sally. She was six years old, for goodness sake. How difficult could it be to talk to her?

‘Did you have a good morning at school?’ he tried as they walked away from the court.

She nodded her head. ‘I suppose it was good – for school.’

That made him laugh. ‘What would be a good morning if you weren’t at school?’

A slight frown formed across her face while she carefully considered his question. ‘Watching cartoons, eating pancakes and taking Dizzy for a walk.’

‘Dizzy?’

‘My dog. She’s black and white and Mum says she hasn’t got all her marbles. That means she’s a bit crazy.’

‘Ahh.’ Eyeing up a break in the traffic, he was about to dash across the road before he realised his responsibilities. Instead he sedately walked the several yards to the zebra crossing. ‘And what would make a good afternoon when you’re not at school?’

This time Sally grinned, her dimples coming out in full force. ‘Eating ice cream and going to the park.’

Laughing, he helped her cross the road. ‘Well, Princess Sally, today your wish is my command.’

She giggled again and he couldn’t help but think how refreshing it was that at least one of the female Taylors laughed at his jokes.

It had been decades since Scott had been to a children’s park, but it quickly became apparent that in those intervening years the swings and slides had shrunk and were now too small for him. Undaunted he managed a go on the mini-assault course, leaving Sally in stitches as he attempted to balance on the two-foot-high tightrope.

‘No, you do it like this, silly,’ she told him, and proceeded to nip across the rope with all the poise of a ballerina. Totally at odds with her rather dishevelled appearance.

He threw his hands up in mock despair. ‘Okay, you win. Are you ready for a sit down yet?’ He was panting, which was crazy. He worked out religiously, for crying out loud, but for some reason he couldn’t keep up with a kid on the playground.

As they ambled towards the café, Sally happily chattering away, his mind swung back to Megan. If he managed to fight his way through that prickly exterior of hers, would she be as talkative as her daughter? He wasn’t sure if the thought intrigued or terrified him, but he was determined to find out. He understood why she was fighting the attraction, which any fool could see was blazing between them. No woman wanted to be thought of as easy. But surely it was only a matter of time before Megan started listening to her body, instead of her head? As a patient man, he was prepared to give her that time. He figured she’d be worth the wait.

They found themselves a seat in the little caf
é
. Red and white checked plastic table covers, wooden chairs and walls covered with bright posters. It was more cosy than chic, and a long way from his usual hang out. Its one redeeming quality was that it was right opposite the court should anything go disastrously wrong.

‘What are you going to have?’ Scott asked Sally.

‘Chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles,’ came the immediate reply. There was a small hesitation, and then a quickly added, ‘Please.’

Scott relayed her request to the pretty young waitress, and was adding a black coffee for himself when he thought: damn it. When was the last time he’d enjoyed an ice cream? ‘And make that two chocolate ice creams.’

‘Both with sprinkles?’ The waitress was eyeing him with undisguised amusement.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Scott nodded. ‘Why the heck not.’ Today was clearly a day for tripping down memory lane to his childhood. Not that he wanted to go too far down that particular path.

‘You’re funny,’ Sally told him, watching him with her vivid blue eyes.

He was about to ask her if that was funny as in he made her laugh, or funny as in odd, but decided against it on the grounds that he might not like the answer.

‘Do you work with my mummy?’ Sally asked as the waitress returned, placing their ice creams in front of them.

As Scott considered how best to reply, the waitress caught his eye and held it for longer than was strictly polite, her message quite clear. After nodding his thanks, Scott turned his attention back to Sally, surprised to find that talking to the little girl held more interest than flirting with the waitress. ‘No, I don’t work with your mum, not really,’ he answered honestly, trying to gauge how much a child might understand of the legal system. Probably as much as the average man on the street. In other words, not a lot. ‘She’s a police woman. She catches the people who break the law. Some of those people then go to court where a judge and a group of people called a jury decide if there is enough evidence to prove that they did what the police say they did. If they agree there is enough proof, the judge decides how to punish them. Sometimes by putting them in prison.’ Her bright eyes were still looking at him with enough focus to indicate she understood what he was saying. ‘I’m a lawyer, specialising in defence. It’s my job to question the evidence that the police have. To put the other side to the story. To show the jury that there could be another explanation for what happened. That way, when they are making up their minds whether the person is guilty or not, they do it with all the facts.’

‘Is that where Mummy is now? In the court with the judge?’

‘Yes, that’s right. She’s telling the judge and the jury what she saw. Giving evidence.’

‘Will she be finished soon?’

He looked at his watch, wondering how long it would take a six year old to eat an ice cream. Probably not long enough. ‘It’s hard to say. These things don’t always run to a strict time.’ A hint of worry crept into her face. ‘But I’m sure she’ll be with you as soon as she can.’

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Sally tucked back into her ice cream. He couldn’t help but smile at the mess she was making, with melted chocolate dripping from the spoon on to the table, and over most of her face. ‘I thought you were meant to eat ice cream through your mouth, not absorb it through your skin.’

Giggling again, she stuck out a chocolate-coated tongue at him and tried to rub at her face.

‘Here, let me do that.’ Taking hold of a serviette he tried to dab at her mouth. ‘You know, this is really a job for mums.’

‘What about dads? Can they wipe faces?’

He finished wiping her clean and leant back in his chair, using the time to consider his reply. He had to admit that the simple question had him momentarily flummoxed, not a feeling he was used to. ‘I’m not sure,’ he replied cautiously. ‘I’ve never been one so I don’t really know.’

‘I don’t know either. I don’t have a dad.’

Okay, so how was he supposed to reply to that one?

‘My friends all have a dad,’ Sally was continuing, saving him having to work out a reply, ‘but they don’t seem to do much. They go out to work mainly.’

‘Yes, that’s what dads do, I guess,’ he agreed, his brain desperately trying to find another, less stressful, topic.

‘My mum has to work because I don’t have a dad.’

‘Well, a lot of mums work anyway, even if there is a dad.’ He figured Megan would be pleased with his answer to that one.

‘I guess they do.’ Sally looked solemnly into his eyes. ‘When I get older I’m going to work so Mum doesn’t have to.’

Oh, crikey. At the sincerity of her words, and the sentiment behind them, he felt his chest tighten. Hastily he grabbed for his coffee and took a sip. ‘What job do you want to do?’ he asked, moving the conversation on to safer ground.

She licked the final remnants of ice cream off her spoon. ‘I want to catch the bad people, like Mum does.’ Then she cocked her head to one side and considered him. ‘Or maybe I’ll be a lawyer, like you.’

He almost choked on the coffee. So much for safer ground. Talking to kids was like walking across a tightrope. Just when you thought you’d got your balance, a gust of wind came along and knocked you off. ‘I’m not so sure your mother would approve of you becoming a lawyer,’ he muttered under his breath, gulping down the rest of his drink. He could just imagine the conversation back at home when Sally told Megan she wanted to be like him.

‘Why not?’

Utterly charmed by her, he struggled to hold back his laughter. There was no doubt about it, she was damned good with the questions. In fact, she had all the hallmarks of an excellent lawyer. ‘Perhaps you should ask your mum that,’ he replied evasively, then swiftly changed the subject. Again. ‘So, what do you want to do now? We can go over to the court and wait on the steps, or stay here and have another drink.’ He eyed her speculatively. ‘Maybe if we ask the waitress nicely, she’ll find us some paper and we can do some drawing.’