But I couldn’t.I seemed to have lost control of my senses.That was the only explanation I had for not jerking my hand free and fleeing the room.Peter wasn’t holding methathard.
But I stayed.I stayed because I was in the thrall of the soft, sweet, exciting feelings that were surging through my insides.They were new and pleasant.I wasn’t ready to oust them just yet.
“Why were you so tired?”I asked.“Were you really up late all week clearing things up so you could come here, or did you just say that to make me feel guilty?”
He frowned.“Did I say that?”
“Yes.When I tried to wake you at ten.Is it true?”
“Yes and no.There was a lot of stuff that needed to be taken care of so I’d be free, but I also had a crisis situation with one of my clients.”My raised brows invited him to elaborate.He took them up on it.“I defended the man on charges of embezzlement.He was convicted on lesser counts than he’d originally been charged with, but he was still sentenced to a brief prison term.Last Monday there was a brawl in the prison yard.He’s been accused of stabbing one of the other inmates.”
“Oh dear.”
“Oh dear is right.He would have been out on parole in another two months.Now he’s facing disciplinary action that could add another six to his sentence.”
“Is he guilty of the stabbing?”
“He did it, but he claims it was self-defense.”
“Were there any witnesses?”
“Yeah.A prison yard full, all of whom hate my man because he isn’t one of them.He’s really a straight guy who made a single big mistake in life.Now that’s been compounded.And the worst of it is that he has a wife and two kids.The pressure was so bad in their neighborhood that they moved, but they’ve been waiting for his parole to start putting the pieces together again.”
“What could you do for him?Were you able to help?”
“I was up there every night this week trying to keep him cool.At the same time I was talkingwith every official I could get my hands on, trying to stop what’s happening.We’re talking white-collar crime, here.My client doesn’t know from physical violence.But if this thing escalates, he’s gonna learn real quick, and that’s gonna make it twice as hard for him to fit back into the mainstream of life when he gets out.I mean, if we’re talking justice, let’s have justice.”
I could feel his tension beneath my palm.
My gaze fell.Sure enough, my fist had relaxed into a hand that was open on his chest, shaping itself to the gentle swell of muscle there.I stared at it, stared at the comparative slimness of my fingers and the way soft wisps of dark hair fringed their tips.I didn’t dare move—not my hand or my arm or my body or anything that might dislodge my fingers from the heavenly groove they’d found.
“Jill?”
My gaze flew to his face.
“What are you thinking?”he asked in a voice that was deeper and more throaty than it had been moments before.
Thinking of that tone of voice, knowing the meaning of deeper and more throaty, I snatched back my hand—successfully this time—and said in a rush of words, “I shouldn’t be with you here.It isn’t right.You’ve come to defend Cooper.That’s all I hired you for.It’s all I want.”
He lowered his arm.“Is it?”
I gave a convulsive nod.“I don’t care whatSamantha or Helaine or Swansy or anyone else says, I’m not available.”
“You’re a widow.You’re not married.You say there isn’t anything going on between Cooper and you—”
“There isn’t.”
“Then with another man?One of those stunning men you say are up here?”
It looked as if I wasn’t going to live down that overheard conversation.For a minute, I wondered if I wanted to.I should lie, I mused.I should tell Peter that there was another man.He’d never know the difference.
But he would.He’d make it his business to know, and, given that he was going to be in touch with most of the townspeople over the next days and weeks, he had the means at his fingertips.
Closing my eyes, I let out a breath.“No, there is no other man.”I opened my eyes and looked into his.“But I have no intention of getting involved with anyone in the kind of way you’re thinking.I had a wonderful marriage.I feel a deep loyalty to my husband.He left me a house, a boat, a way of life and a wealth of memories.They’re more than enough for me.”
“Are they?”
“Yes.”
