The Right To Remain Mine (2 page)

BOOK: The Right To Remain Mine
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        Dad? Holy hell, he hadn't seen that coming. Closing his eyes briefly as he winced, Raith envisioned his entire career ending in a sudden and imminent disaster. One little call from the judge to the sheriff, and Raith would be without a job faster than he could tear up Willow DeVane's stupid ticket.
        But the judge surprised the hell out of him when he muttered, "You can afford the fine," before adding, "and don't call me old."
        "But he—"
        As she swung her arm around to point accusingly at Raith, her father interrupted. "Quit giving Deputy Malloy a hard time and let the man do his job. Take the ticket."
        Her mouth fell open. "Even though he threatened to break my tail light?"
        The judge treated Raith to a questioning glance.
        Not one to blush, Raith managed to keep his face bland. But just barely. Inside, he cringed and cursed the sexy red-tinted brunette all to hell. The woman couldn't take a joke, could she?
        "I don't recall doing anything of the kind."
        She growled. "Someday, you're going to regret messing with me, Deputy Malloy."
        He lifted his eyebrows. "Now look who's threatening who."
        She gasped and opened her mouth to say God-knew-what. But fortunately, her father stepped in, grabbing her elbow, and urged her toward her BMW. "Willow! Get in the car before the boy arrests you."
        Raith grinned. "Sounds like good advice to me... Willow."
        She shot him a look to kill. But with both him and her father ganged up against her, she must've known she'd lost the battle.
        "This is freaking unbelievable." Spinning away, she yanked open the driver's side door.
        As soon as she climbed inside and slammed it, Raith regarded the judge. "Thank you, your honor."
        The not-so-decrepit old man let out a tired sigh. "I hope you believe me when I say she gets that spirit from her mother."
        Raith's smile spread. Oh, he believed that, all right. He had never seen the judge as anything but calm and level-headed.
        DeVane shook his head. "She was hell to raise."
        Raith chuckled. "I can imagine."
        After glancing at Willow DeVane through the window with a worldweary expression, though, the judge's features softened into a fond smile. Then he cleared his throat and turned back to Raith. "Have a good day, Deputy." Leading with his crutch, he tottered back onto the curb to inch his way around the BMW to the passenger side. Raith stepped forward to assist him, but the judge waved him off, treating him to a look that snarled don't even try 'cause I'm really not that old, so he quickly jerked back.
        As soon as the judge's back faced him, Raith slid his gaze down to the sexy lawyer. She had already started the engine and waited like the good girl her daddy had told her to be. But she scowled up at him when she saw his mocking grin.
        In return, he touched two fingers to his lips and blew her a kiss.
        The go-to-hell glare she volleyed back told him she would like nothing better than to fly out of her car and strangle him, but her father had already opened the passenger side door and was gingerly sliding in next to her; she was forced to take hold of the crutch he handed her.
        Raith chuckled as she pulled from the curb, until a static-filled voice rattled from his portable, calling his number.
        He glanced at the booklet in his hand and cursed. The damn woman had gotten out of her ticket.
        He could finish it and mail the parking violation to her, but at this point, he didn't even feel like bothering.
        Unclipping the radio, he lifted it to his mouth and returned, "Ten twenty-two, County."
        "Ten four," came back the answer as dispatch disregarded his request for tag information.
        Shaking his head, Raith started toward his police car. It was too bad Willow DeVane had to be such a pain in the ass and a lawyer besides, because he still wanted to bury his fingers in her lush auburn hair as well as a couple of other forbidden places.

One

        "Hey, Malloy. Who do you have for us this morning? Finally catch a real criminal?"
        Raith paused in the entrance of the county jailhouse's book-in room to scowl at the correctional officer smirking back. A crisp January wind entered behind him, encouraging him to nudge his prisoner in cuffs to move along so he could let the door close at his back.
        "Happy birthday, asshole," he said to the jailer, planting the prisoner in front of the smartass so he could deal with the thief.
        "I prefer blondes," came the dry reply.
        After an indifferent shrug, Raith answered, "I tried. He refused to stop by the beauty parlor on the way over."
        The officer snickered. "Jerk."
        After passing the prisoner off, Raith turned away and caught a flash of color through the glass partition that led into the lobby. Pausing to focus on the auburn-headed woman, he took a moment to let a shiver of anticipation consume him. But, mercy. She was one fine specimen.
        In the many months since he had almost given Willow DeVane a ticket for parking in a handicap zone, the two of them had run into each other around town only a handful of times. Yet he still recognized her anywhere, even from the back—or maybe he should say, especially from the back.
        Man, she was hot. No one wore a power suit like the seductive lady lawyer, and to his delight, that's exactly what she sported today.
        But seriously, what in the hell she was doing, loitering around this place? Too curious to let sleeping dogs lie, Raith strolled toward the entrance leading him closer to DeVane. After waiting for the control room to unlock the door, he slipped into the lobby, where she finally glanced up.
        "Well, my goodness," she murmured. "If it isn't the strong and mighty Deputy Malloy." The grin she sent him did all sorts of wicked things to his loins. It taunted, I know you want me, but... too bad. "Hello there, officer," she cooed in such a carnal voice, his internal temperature kicked up another ten degrees. "Fancy meeting you here."
        "DeVane." He greeted her with a stony frown. "What a coincidence. I've just brought in another loser client for you to get off on some stupid technicality."
        "Really?" Eyebrows arching, she lifted up on her toes to glance through the glass wall and watch the correctional officer book in the man Raith had just delivered. She turned back to him, leaning confidentially closer. "What'd he do?"
        He shrugged. "Vandalized the Safe Way and stole some merchandise."
        Willow wrinkled her nose and, God, even that looked sexy on her. Adorable but undeniably sexy. "Sorry, but I don't do criminal cases. You'll have to call Chase."
        Raith held in a shiver of desire. He was quite aware of everything she didn't do. Him included. "But your brother doesn't defend trash like that. He's actually a decent attorney who puts criminals away."
        Chase DeVane, Willow's brother, held the newest assistant prosecutor spot in the county and, though he was also a lawyer, Raith carried a healthy respect for him. Chase went after convicts like a Doberman after a robber. Once he caught a felon by the back of the neck, he didn't release his jaws until he attained a sentence that satisfied him.
        Raith assumed Chase's sister wasn't so focused on justice. If she parked in handicap spots, she probably didn't care so much about fighting for fairness and equality for all. The woman had to be after a quick buck, which once again confirmed she would never find any interest in him. If there was a buck left in Raith's pocket a week after payday, he considered himself lucky.
        "So what're you doing slinking around here if you don't do criminals?" he asked, leaning against a nearby wall and crossing his forearms over his chest.
        Willow turned partially away, but glanced teasingly over her shoulder at him with a conspiratorial smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
        Raith glowered. "Yes, I would. You're in my territory now, DeVane. If you want something here, you have to play nice with me."
        She sighed, came back around, and finally got down to business. "Well, then." She tugged on the hem of her jacket to straighten the nonexistent wrinkles. "In that case, I'm representing a certain gentleman who's in the process of a divorce. And it just so happens he was arrested last night. I've already called a bondsman for him, so he should be released soon if he hasn't been already."
        "You work divorce cases?" Raith asked, straightening away from the door. How in the hell had he not known that before? He hated divorce lawyers most of all.
        "I do," Willow answered huskily. "That's my specialty actually. Why? What's it to you?"
        He scowled. If it weren't for his own divorce lawyer, he would probably be going home tonight to name brand beer and something other than rice or pasta.
        "Divorce lawyers are the scum of the earth. It's people like you who have me paying alimony out the ass. Do you know how many bills I could make on time if three-fourths of my check wasn't being sucked dry by some woman I can't even stand? All of them, that's how many."
        Willow blinked as if bewildered. "You're divorced?" Then she sniffed. "Why am I not surprised?"
        Raith narrowed his eyes. "Ha, ha."
        "Seriously, Malloy." She offered him the hint of a smile that made his stomach tighten with desire. "If you wanted to avoid so much alimony, you should've come to me. I would've gotten you out of it."
        He snorted. She probably would've lost him his entire check instead of merely three-fourths of it. "I doubt you were even ten years old back when I booted out the old battle ax."
        "And just how young do you think I am?" Willow's expression told him how much she didn't appreciate his nasty comment.
        Not wanting to delve any further into personal conversation because it would only torture him more, misleading him into believing he might actually have a chance with her, Raith stonily asked, "Who're you here to see?"
        Willow lifted her brows. "My, my. Changing the subject, are we? You must be much older than I originally imagined."
        His gaze narrowed. "Who're you here to see?"
        She pulled back, undoubtedly startled by his tone, and cleared her throat. "Um, Theodore Franklin."
        Shaking his head in disgust, he snorted. "Dear God, you really do defend scum bags, don't you?" He held up his hand, motioning her to stay put. "Wait here. I'll check his status."
        He hurried off, thinking he had narrowly been saved from making an utter idiot of himself. Because if she ever discovered how he didn't give a damn how young she was—he would take her any way he could get her— She would forever have a reason to mock him. No way would he give her the upper hand in this pissing contest they had going. Hiding his lust was top priority.
~ * ~
        Willow sighed as Deputy Malloy stalked away. He had to be more arrogant, rude, and prickly than any man she had ever met. But my, oh my, did he have a nice butt. She took a moment to enjoy his tight, narrow buns of steel strolling off before she turned and settled into an uncomfortable waiting chair, crossing her legs and impatiently swinging one high-heeled foot back and forth.
        If Malloy wasn't such a royal pain, she would probably be after him like sesame seeds on a hamburger bun. Something intrinsically primal about him always managed to entice all her hormones into coming alive in his presence. Willow just knew she could have fun with a big, tough cop like him.
        She sighed a little over the fact she would never get to find out just how much of a good time as the door opened and a correctional officer escorted Theo, dressed in his street clothes, into the lobby.
        Setting her briefcase on the floor by the chair, Willow pushed to her feet. When Franklin glanced her way with an indignant sneer, she made a little sound of disgust, realizing the next couple of minutes were probably going to turn nasty.
        "Theo, Theo, Theo," she murmured, her voice thick with disapproval. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"
        She shook her head sadly as she took in the deep scratch marks on his cheek, trailing down his throat and disappearing into his collar. This particular client could never lay claim to being the brightest crayon in the box to start with, but she began to doubt her own intelligence for taking him on in the first place as he skipped a polite greeting and instantly began demanding.
        "I need a ride home." He marched toward her, coming entirely too close for her comfort.
        Willow ignored the instinctive need to edge a wary step back. "In a minute. Let's discuss a few things first."
        Franklin frowned, looking blank. "'Bout what?"
        Willow almost rolled her eyes. "About your arrest record, Theo." She managed to remain calm. But honestly, she wanted to shake him senseless. "I thought I told you the last time you were incarcerated I'd drop you as a client if you were arrested again for some senseless—"
        "Look, I don't need a sermon from you, bitch—"
        "Watch yourself, Franklin," the lingering correctional officer warned, "or you'll find yourself back behind bars."
        As Theo snarled at the deputy, Willow scowled as well, thinking he wouldn't have thought twice about letting a male lawyer defend himself from his client, or probably even a tough-looking butch woman lawyer. It rankled that he didn't believe she could handle her own situation. She almost snorted and asked him if he was chauvinist Malloy's protégé.

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