Under Fire (41 page)
Then he didn’t have time to think about Skyler anymore because,
Dios mío
, Grace was striding toward him purposefully, lovely expression cool and composed as ever. If he didn’t know better, she might have been marching forward to serve him with a subpoena. After months of her ignoring his phone calls, he couldn’t imagine what on earth she had to say to him.
Dios mío
, Grace was striding toward him purposefully, lovely expression cool and composed as ever. If he didn’t know better, she might have been marching forward to serve him with a subpoena. After months of her ignoring his phone calls, he couldn’t imagine what on earth she had to say to him.
But it couldn’t be good.
And here he was caught off guard and out of his groove. With her crisp blouse under her tailored suit jacket and her hair in an elegant twist at her nape, the woman looked as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of
Vogue
. An equally sharp-dressed man—her lunch date?—trailed in her wake while Julian was a stinky, sooty old gym sock. Shit. Feeling self-conscious and hating it, he raked his fingers through his wet hair, pasting on a grin.
Vogue
. An equally sharp-dressed man—her lunch date?—trailed in her wake while Julian was a stinky, sooty old gym sock. Shit. Feeling self-conscious and hating it, he raked his fingers through his wet hair, pasting on a grin.
“
Querida
, you picked a fine time to accept my dinner invitation. As you can see, I’m a bit underdressed.”
Querida
, you picked a fine time to accept my dinner invitation. As you can see, I’m a bit underdressed.”
Grace stopped in front of him, huge eyes softening the merest fraction. “I had to stay and make certain you were all right,” she said, her soft, melodic voice edged with a tiny hint of concern.
Just like that, his knees went weak. His heart thudded madly in his chest and for once in his life, he could think of nothing clever to say. The armor of his wit deserted him, leaving him naked and squirming.
“I . . . I’m fine, Grace.”
“And Howard?” She squinted toward the smoldering restaurant, worry for her sister’s husband plain.
“We’re good. Just another day in the jungle. How have you been?”
Why haven’t you acknowledged my existence?
Why haven’t you acknowledged my existence?
Clutching her purse, she favored him with a polite smile that seized his lungs. “Busy. Half the population needs an attorney.”
“And they’re all innocent, I’m sure.”
“Of course. Those are the only ones I defend.” As though suddenly reminded of her lunch date, she glanced to the man standing behind her and waved him forward. “Oh! Gentlemen, I apologize. Derek, this is an acquaintance of mine, Julian Salvatore. He works with my sister’s husband. Julian, this is Derek Vines.”
The name slammed into him, a double shot to the head and gut. His gaze swung toward the man’s good-looking face. Fifteen years older, but the same face that haunted his nightmares. One he’d never thought to see again in this lifetime, or the next.
He couldn’t breathe. Was being held underwater. Vision graying at the edges.
Drowning.
“Julian? Are you all right?”
He blinked at Grace, fighting to breathe, the fog clearing some. He’d never fainted and he wasn’t about to now, in front of her.
In front of the man who’d nearly destroyed him.
This must be cosmic punishment for his most terrible mistake, and the promiscuous life he’d led since. Hadn’t he suffered enough simply struggling each day to rise above the past?
“Julian?” She turned to Vines. “Get one of the others—”
“No!” He gave her what he prayed was a reassuring smile, when what he needed to do was find a restroom and be sick. “No, I’m fine. It’s just . . . all of this clothing and gear is hotter than hell. Vines, nice to meet you,” he said.
Because that was how a normal person greeted another. A normal guy would shake the man’s hand, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not even under torture.
Before Vines could open his mouth, Julian took Grace’s arm. “I need to speak with you in private.”
Vines wore a puzzled frown, not a spark of recognition in his eyes. Thank God. Julian steered Grace toward the back of the ambulance, aware of the captain’s disapproving scowl and the other guys’ curious stares. He ignored them all, getting right to the point.
“What the fuck are you doing with a slimeball like Derek Vines?”
Score. That damned irritating chilly sophistication slipped several notches, and she gaped at him, bristling. “Derek Vines is my client, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Really? You called him
Derek
, not Mr. Vines,” he pointed out, struggling to remain calm. And losing.
Derek
, not Mr. Vines,” he pointed out, struggling to remain calm. And losing.
“Derek is a family acquaintance, which is
also
none of your business. If you’ll excuse me—”
also
none of your business. If you’ll excuse me—”
“Cut that asshole loose. Trust me on this.”
“Let go of my arm,” she hissed, jerking the limb in question.
Blinking, he uncurled his fingers from her sleeve. He hadn’t realized he’d grabbed her. “I’m sorry. But please listen,” he entreated, injecting his voice with all the sincerity he possessed. Where Vines was concerned, it wasn’t difficult. “Vines is extremely dangerous, Grace. You have no idea.”
She obviously wanted to leave, but hesitated, anger tempered by curiosity. “How would you know this?”
Oh, God. “Just . . . trust me.”
“Not good enough. I don’t know you.”
“Yeah? Well, you don’t know Vines, either, or you’d never have accepted him as a client. You only defend the innocent?” He gave a bitter laugh and wiped a hand down his grimy face. “Jesus Christ, Grace. Even you can’t be right in every case, about every person, and you’re not right about him.”
“How so? Throw me a bone, Salvatore, or I walk.”
Salvatore. The bastard is “Derek” and I’m “Salvatore.” Great.
What could he tell her when he was shaking apart inside, trying to keep from hitting his knees?
“Derek’s from San Antonio, Texas, same as me and my family. Suffice it to say his whole family is trouble for everyone unfortunate enough to cross their paths. Do some research.”
“All right,” she said, nodding slightly. “I can do that much.”
“Then drop the bastard like yesterday’s bad garbage, because that’s what he is.”
Anger animated her face again, and he knew he’d never seen a more gorgeous woman. Sucked to have her fury directed at him, but better for her to be aware of the viper in her midst.
“Thank you for the information, however vague, but I’ll be the one to decide which clients to take on.” A strange expression clouded the anger for a second as she held his gaze; then it vanished. “Good-bye, Julian.”
Good-bye. At least she’d used his first name again. Wasn’t that a positive sign?
And she’d never actually turned him down, had she?
“Why haven’t you just said
no
?” he blurted, inwardly cursing himself for an idiot.
no
?” he blurted, inwardly cursing himself for an idiot.
Grace paused, looking over her shoulder, violet eyes cool as ever. The irritation was gone, a ghost of a smile hovering on those plump lips. “Perhaps I just haven’t said
yes
.”
yes
.”
Jaw clenched, he watched her walk away, small, round butt swinging in her tight skirt.
Damn her
for stringing him along.
Damn her
for stringing him along.
A hand clamped hard on his shoulder. “Oh, boy. Our Latin lover’s got it bad.” Six-Pack stepped in front of him, shaking his head. “I’ve tried to tell you, forget about her. Grace is as elusive as the wind.”
“You’re just afraid I’ll break your precious sister-in-law’s heart.”
The lieutenant’s expression sobered. “Not anymore, my friend. I’m afraid she’ll break yours.”
Six-Pack strode away and Julian watched, relieved, as Grace and Derek Vines left in separate cars. Even if she wasn’t his business, he cared for her safety. She was representing a monster, and he couldn’t make her understand.
Not unless he told her everything.
And that was
never
going to happen.
never
going to happen.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jo Davis
spent sixteen years in the public school trenches before she left teaching to pursue her dreams of becoming a full-time writer. An active member of Romance Writers of America, she’s been a Golden Heart Award finalist for Best Romantic Suspense. She lives in Texas with her husband and two children. Visit her Web site at
www.jodavis.net
.
spent sixteen years in the public school trenches before she left teaching to pursue her dreams of becoming a full-time writer. An active member of Romance Writers of America, she’s been a Golden Heart Award finalist for Best Romantic Suspense. She lives in Texas with her husband and two children. Visit her Web site at
www.jodavis.net
.
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