"Informative as usual." She could not settle. Suddenly she was wondering if this was such a good idea. She had had a crappy day at the hospital.
A pile up on the highway had caused several deaths, including a mother and her two year old toddler. Deaths, especially when it came to children, always got her at the heart.
"Jillian, how may I help you? I have work to finish up."
She turned to face him, the wine not settling well in her stomach.
"How long have we known each other?"
His frown came again.
"If this is a walk down memory lane, I prefer to skip it."
"The sooner you answer the question, counselor, the quicker we move the topic along."
He expelled a breath and glared at her.
"A lifetime."
"I need a number." She smiled sweetly when he snarled.
"Since bloody high school and that's all you're getting. What the hell is this about?"
"How well do you know me?"
He could swear he felt his blood boiling. He certainly felt his temper sizzling.
"Pretty well." He snapped.
"What do you think of me?"
He started to rise and thought better of it. If he moved towards her, he was going to commit murder and he was a goddamned lawyer. He needed his hands to be clean.
"That's enough." Somehow, he found temperance. Had to reach deep down for it. But it was there. "You have to go. I have work and don't have time for whatever this is."
"All right."
With a sigh of relief that this strange period was over, he pushed back his chair with the intention of showing her out.
"Just one thing."
"Jill..." He staggered back, actually stumbled back against the chair and felt every drop of blood draining from his head and pooling somewhere else. She had whipped off the coat.
And was wearing nothing under it except swatches of the most delicate and transparent scraps of black silk, frivolous really, revealing more than it hid. Her skin was a creamy alabaster,found mostly in people with her coloring. Wine red hair tumbled over one shoulder, but he could see the rosy tints of her nipples.
He went as hard as steel, instantly.
For a few heartbeats, neither of them spoke. The room seemed to shrink, charged with a tension that was almost palpable. He caught his breath, struggling to keep control, while she held his gaze, unflinching, almost daring him to respond.
The moment hovered between them, electric and uncertain, the boundaries they'd always observed suddenly obliterated.
He tried to speak, and it occurred to him vaguely that as a lawyer, he possessed a gift of the gab. Had to in his chosen profession and was usually damn good at it. But now he could not find the words.
His saliva had pooled and then dried up. And he was sweating.
"What..." He gestured with one hand as words completely failed him. And started to take a step back when she advanced. His body went into complete shock when she unhooked the scrap of lace bra and took it off.
He sat. Heavily. If he hadn't, he would have disgraced himself by falling on the floor.
