And held.
“All rise,” the courtroom clerk announced.
Vega turned away first and Ben watched him head to the defense table.
When they were instructed to be seated it seemed everyone else in the room sat before Ben. But when he did, he noticed Victoria looking back. She most likely hadn’t been searching for him in the crowd, but their gazes locked anyway. The anger that had been rumbling in his gut at the sight of Vega dissipated while he seemed to sink into the depths of her elusive gaze. What was she thinking? Did she feel the same indescribable tug toward him as he did to her? And if so, was she finally, after all the years they’d known each other and carefully skated around each other, ready to deal with it?
Victoria
Finally, she could breathe a sigh of relief.
Victoria walked out of the courtroom first. Her files were in a box her law clerk would bring back to the office later. What she needed to go over tonight was in her bag. But she couldn’t stay in that courtroom a second longer. He was making her more than a little uncomfortable. “He” being Ben Donovan, the arrogant and still fine as hell defense attorney sent to her right from the devil himself. Okay, that was probably over-reacting, but dammit, why was he there?
What she really should’ve been asking herself is why, after all this time, did she even care? That would be a great question to which she’d immediately reply—because she despised rich and privileged men like him who could’ve been using their status to do something meaningful in the world.
Instead, all Ben had ever worried about was looking good, playing hard and spending his millions. And she hated that even knowing all this and accepting that she shouldn’t give a damn about any of it, the sight of him still ticked her off.
And aroused the hell out of her.
Initially she’d been excited about this trial. Then she learned he had backed out. Why? Was he afraid of going against her? That may have been a naïve possibility. But she hadn’t wanted to consider another reason. And just when she’d resigned herself to missing the opportunity to go against him, he showed up.
He’d been in the courtroom this morning, at least for the first half of the proceeding. She knew because, in addition to seeing him, she’d felt his penetrating gaze every second. It was as if her body welcomed his presence and reacted to his intense perusal of her by flushing and throbbing in every erogenous place she possessed. She hated even acknowledging that fact to herself, not to mention the moments when she would swear, he could see right through the shield of disdain she always erected when he was around, and right to the pulsating between her legs. Thatwould explain what she could only describe as the knowing nod he always gave before he tore his gaze away from hers.
She also knew the moment he vacated any space she occupied. Disappointment was a tainted spear straight to her gut, spreading the knowledge that he was no longer close enough for her to watch, to wonder about, to crave. Still, the sensible side of her, the professional who wanted to win this case, had been able to breathe a little easier. And for the next hour and a half she’d felt relief.
Now, she was experiencing a bit of confusion mixed with the swirl of adrenaline being in front of a judge gave her.
Ramone Vega was a killer. There wasn’t an ounce of her that didn’t believe that. His attorney, Helmer, was a self-centered ass who loved the media about as much as he loved cream-filled donuts, and neither one of them ever depicted him in a positive light. He would make this trial a circus, she was sure. There was already a crowd of reporters and photographers waiting outside the courtroom for them.
With her briefcase in one hand Victoria lifted another arm to shield herself from all the microphones being shoved in her face. Cameras flashed and she blinked rapidly. Questions were fired at her and all she replied was, “No comment.”
At some point Jules or the DA would have a press conference. She’d be required to attend but she wouldn’t talk. She never did. Her legs moved swiftly toward the elevators where she jabbed a finger into the button praying it could tell she was desperate and hurry to open the doors. A few seconds later, she figured she should be thankful part of her prayer was answered, except it came with a price.
“Back up, back up,” he said in that loud, commanding voice he possessed.
She’d heard it a couple times over the years as she’d walked past a courtroom that he was in. And yes, she’d sneaked a peekin those moments because she couldn’t resist the temptation of seeing him again. This, however, was a different circumstance and he was no longer across the room from her. No, this time Benjamin Donovan was standing right beside her.
The elevator door opened and he moved her inside with a hand to the small of her back and a little push.
“She said no comment, people. Can’t you take a hint?” was his parting shot as he held a hand up to stop another reporter who was bold enough to try and board the elevator with them.
Thankfully the doors finally closed and Victoria leaned against the back wall. “Thank you,” she murmured without looking at him because to do so would only aggravate the constant war she fought with despising and being physically attracted to him.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “It’s going to be worse when the trial actually starts. Maybe you should see if someone could sit second chair with you, preferably a man that can put some distance between you and the other attorneys.”
What? Did he just imply that she needed a man to protect her?
Victoria took a deep breath, released it slowly as she glared into the eyes of the man who had haunted her dreams for longer than she could remember. And yes, she meant haunted, because Ben Donovan was not the man for her, he was not the man she should be dreaming about, or secretly wanting. He wasn’t a man that she could have.
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” she replied in a frosty tone.
He didn’t even flinch at her words. She’d actually had men flinch when she’d used her frosty tone on them, usually when she was turning them down from some pitiful line they’d tried to use on her. But she should’ve remembered Ben wasn’t that type, he wasn’thertype.
He smiled. “Not a bodyguard, just somebody to deflect some of these people. I know the DA’s office has a spokesperson. Maybe she could come down at the end of each day to make a statement so they won’t hound you.”
“I can take it,” she told him, and then saw that the destination of the elevator had not been selected.
She moved forward to do so, but that meant brushing past him. And when she did…oh, why the hell did she have to do that? His cologne smelled too good. The charcoal gray suit he wore fit his toned frame too well. His deep mocha skin was too alluring, and those root beer brown eyes were too knowing. Sprinkles of heat rained over her, drenching her in arousal and need.
