Legal Heat (16 page)

He sighed when the announcer moved on to another category. Such a bloody waste of time. He should have pulled rank on Tony and backed out of the dinner. As senior partner, he could veto the managing partner’s decisions. But Tony could be very persuasive, and one look at the firm’s accounts had him lacing up his own penguin suit. The firm needed work and the partners needed to see and be seen. All of them.

“Mark should get an award for the fiercest scowl.” Curtis leaned over and grabbed Mark’s fork away. The most reserved of Mark’s partners, Curtis was well known for his short fuse.

Tony laughed. “The firm should get an award for surviving the recession. I’ve heard three more city firms have gone under.”

“That award would have to go to Mark too.” Curtis patted Mark’s shoulder. “His client is keeping us afloat.”

Mark smiled. He had been lucky to find a small group of friends he admired and respected. Together, they had weathered the rigors of law school and articling, and then started their own law firm. They were brothers in all but name.

The conversation turned to shared acquaintances and the usual salacious gossip. Mark let his mind wander. What was Katy doing now? Probably at work, drafting another motion to drag his “sorry ass” into court and rake him over the coals for his callous behavior. He coughed and choked on his wine.

“You okay?” Tony thumped him on the back.

Mark nodded. “Where did they get this stuff?”

“Who knows? Everyone has been affected by the recession so they probably tried to cut costs by going local. I’m not wasting my time with it. Our new wine shipment arrived at the club this afternoon. Curtis and I are heading over there later to sample the 2006 Cornas Domaine Clape. Probably one of the best Syrahs in the world. You want to join us? Maybe your pretty little lawyer will stop by again.”

“She’s not mine,” Mark mumbled. He hadn’t told Tony about Katy and he wasn’t ready to explain the situation to everyone just yet.

The lights came on signaling the end of the awards and the beginning of the evening entertainment. Mark pushed back his chair. Time to go.

“Not so fast.” Tony grabbed the wine bottle and refilled Mark’s glass. “What happened? I thought sparks were flying when she showed up last time at the club.”

Mark took another sip of the sharp, bitter wine. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“I don’t believe it. You two had a connection. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Mark looked away to avoid Tony’s all too intuitive question. The dance floor was already full—mostly young associates, court staff and…Katy. His heart skidded to a stop.

Vivacious. Breathtaking. Beautiful. He couldn’t decide whether it was the boots or the dress, but within seconds his cock stiffened. Rock hard.

Tony followed his gaze and snorted a sarcastic laugh. “Oh yeah. Nothing serious.”

Mark barely heard him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The dress fit her like a glove, highlighting her narrow waist and accentuating her soft, full breasts. God, those breasts. They swelled enticingly over the top of the corset, hidden only by a filmy strip of red lace. She swayed on the dance floor, perfectly in time to the music, never faltering despite the thin, metal heels of the damned sexiest boots he had ever seen. Up and up they climbed, ending only inches below her tight skirt, binding her legs in a sensual feast of lacing.

“Nothing is going on,” Mark growled. “She’s on the other side of the Hi-Tech dismissal case.”

“There had better be nothing going on,” Tony muttered, shaking a finger. “Talk about one big, fat conflict.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you kidding? I saw you with her in the club. I only have to look at you now to know you need to distance yourself totally, either from her or the case, or this is going to end badly for everyone, especially you.”

Mark sighed. “I’ll be fine, Tony.”

Tony drained his glass. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about Steele. I’m worried about the firm and I’m worried about the Law Society. I’m also worried about her. I like her. I don’t want to see her career destroyed, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“I have it under control.” Mark emphasized each word. Why wouldn’t Tony leave it alone? When had he ever given his friend cause to doubt him?

“I’ll believe it when you can look at her without drooling.” Tony gave him a warning clap on the back.

The band launched into an eighties rock song and the old timers headed for the bar. Katy remained on the dance floor and Tim, the red-haired court reporter, joined her. They exchanged a few words and then Tim closed the distance between them, his eyes fixed on Katy’s breasts. He grabbed her hand and spun her around. Katy twirled, laughing as she neared Mark’s table. And then she stopped.

“Oh. My. God.”

Katy froze. Why hadn’t she even considered he might be here? And Tony. Was he a lawyer too?

She flushed as she caught Mark’s gaze and her heart seized. Damn he filled out a tux like no one else.

“Why did you stop, Katy? Do you need a breather?” Tim put his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind, totally oblivious to Mark and Tony watching them with fascination and the faintest glimmer of disapproval.

“Tim, stop. You’re drunk.” She pulled his hands away and tried, unsuccessfully, to step out of his embrace. For someone thin and gangly, he had surprisingly strong arms.

“Come on, Katy. We were having such a good time.” He pulled her closer and palmed her breast with a clammy hand.

“Get off.” She tried to wriggle free, but after four shots of tequila, her strength and coordination were not up to par and she couldn’t escape without making a scene.

Tim pawed at her breast again. Two chairs slid away from the table in front of them.

“I believe Ms. Sinclair wishes to be left alone.” Mark stalked over to them, eyes flashing, Tony on his heels.

“What’s it to you?” Tim snapped.

Katy shot a glance over her shoulder at Tim. Why was he still here? Any sane man would’ve been out the door by now. Could he not see the anger simmering beneath Mark’s taut face?

Tony saw it. He edged closer to Mark, his hand outstretched as if ready to grab him and pull him away.

“Take your hands off her now,” Mark growled. What a voice. Hard, low, powerful and dripping with menace. Did he use that voice in the courtroom to intimidate witnesses, or was it just for overly friendly court reporters?

A thrill of fear shot through her veins. Although she liked Tim, a part of her almost hoped he would be stupid enough to stand his ground. What would Mark do then?

Disappointment coursed through her when Tim stiffened and loosened his grip. “I’ll go and get us a cab,” he mumbled.

 
“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Mark took Katy’s hand and pulled her behind him. “I’ll see her home.”

“Katy.”

She clenched her teeth at Tim’s unappealing whine. “It’s fine, Tim. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Tim scowled and trudged away. Katy suffered a moment of regret. She had never seen him anything but cheerful. She made a mental note to call him and take him out for coffee. She enjoyed his company and didn’t want to lose a friend.

“Let’s go.” Mark pulled her in the direction of the exit.

“Wait a minute. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for work. I’m supposed to be mingling.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp and instantly felt the loss.

“You’ve done enough mingling for tonight. What were you thinking coming here dressed like that?”

The edge in his voice surprised her and she took a full step back. “Are you kidding me? I cannot believe you would say that considering you spend your weekends in a club where women wear leather and chains. And if you are even suggesting the way I’m dressed makes me in some way responsible for someone else’s behavior…”

Mark shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her, pulling her close. “The women at the club aren’t mine,” he whispered, so low only she could hear.

Mine
. Katy shivered. How deliciously primitive to be thought of as a possession. Too bad she happened to be a legal professional in the middle of a networking event. She flung off the jacket and handed it back. “I’m not yours. You said so yourself. We just had a bit of fun.”

He wrapped the jacket around her again. “Perhaps you misunderstood.”

Tony took a step toward them and held out his hand, breaking the tension. “Perhaps Katy would like to meet the other partners. I think it would count as networking. We’ve never been professionally introduced. I’m Tony Moretti, managing partner of Richards and Moretti.”

He pressed a cool, callused palm against her hand and slid his thumb around her wrist in a surreptitious caress. Her smile faded and it took all her effort not to jerk her hand away.

“Tony.” Mark thundered a warning. Tony let her go and gave her a wink.

By the time she had been introduced to all the partners, her tequila buzz had started to wear off and her dress had become unbearably restricting. She panted against the lacings and excused herself to get a breath of fresh air.

“You’re hyperventilating, sugar.” Mark caught up to her as she skirted the dance floor. “We need to get you out of that dress.”

Mmmm. Yes.

No.

“I’ll be fine. I just need a few minutes outside.”

His face softened for the first time since she’d seen him that evening. “Good idea. We need to talk. I’ll walk you to your car.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “Come.”

Katy almost sobbed with the desire to go with him, but she couldn’t. Not tonight. Ted had given her this chance to prove herself. She took the deepest breath the corset would allow. “The partners of my firm are here and we have a photo shoot for the awards in an hour. I can’t leave until they do.”

She chanced a glance at his face but couldn’t read anything in his neutral expression.

“We’ll step outside and I’ll loosen the corset for you,” he said. “Then I’ll leave you to your mingling.”

Without waiting for her agreement, he led her across the ballroom and out through a set of glass doors to a small terrace overlooking Coal Harbor. Potted trees dotted the flagstone patio, and a wrought iron table and two chairs huddled against the wall.

Mark steered her to a dark corner between two fragrant potted cedars and turned her to face the railing. The lights of Vancouver’s North Shore twinkled in the distance, and she could see the SeaBus, ferrying people across Burrard Inlet.

His fingers slid down her back and tugged at the ribbons holding her corset closed. “Are you and Tim…?” His voice tightened. “I never thought to ask.”

“We’re just friends.”

Katy held onto the cool metal and looked down into the water. Fish streaked past like bolts of silver lightening, daring her to catch them. The last time she had gone fishing, she had been with her father, and blissfully unaware he was saying goodbye. The next week he had driven away and never looked back.

“How did you tie this knot?” Mark pulled the ribbons free. Air filled her lungs as the corset loosened around her.

“It’s a trick I taught to—” She cut herself off, not wanting to let him know about the kids. “Never mind.”

He turned her around and cupped her face in his warm hands. “Finish what you were saying.”

“No.”

He leaned down and feathered kisses over her eyelids. “Tell me.”

She shook her head.

The look he gave her was speculative, thoughtful. Determined. He brushed his lips along the sensitive curve of her ear, trailing them down her neck to the dip in her collarbone.

“Last chance to bare your secrets, Ms. Sinclair, or I will tease them out of you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She ached with a need only he could fill, but what if the truth sent him running? Should she take the risk? Maybe she should. The truth might be an easy way out for both of them.

“Um…” She couldn’t get the words out. She didn’t want to know the most precious part of her life had driven him away.

He blazed a trail of fiery kisses along her jaw and then pulled back. “I already know, and I’m still here.”

“You couldn’t possibly know.” She leaned toward him, desperate for his touch, and hating herself for her desire. He had made his position clear after the phone call. Fun. Nothing more.

“Trust me,” he whispered.

Katy’s stomach clenched. She wasn’t good at trust. Not after Steven. But she wasn’t good at deception either. Or uncertainty. She wanted the measure of the man who made her melt inside.

She swallowed hard. “Melissa. My daughter. She’s seven. I taught her some tricks when she was learning to tie a bow.” Her stomach knotted but she forged ahead. “I have a son too. Justin. He’s nine.”

She reached around her back and secured the laces of her dress. “No husband, though. Not anymore. I was married for ten years to Steven and we divorced last year. He’s a heart surgeon at Vancouver General Hospital. We married when I was young—only eighteen. He was older, worldly, and sophisticated. He swept me off my feet. My dad left when I was young and I think I saw Steven as some kind replacement and a way to ensure I didn’t wind up alone and depressed like my mom.”