His eyes warm to dark embers, rendering me temporarily speechless. “You don’t think I can charm the panties off you?”
“All right. You need to dial it down.” I hold out a hand and press down on imaginary air. “A lot.”
Heat swells from him. Somehow. “Dial what down?”
“You,” I hiss. “All of this. The obnoxious, rudely sexist, prowling panther routine. Use your brain, if you have one. It’s our first meeting, and you’re driving me crazy. You want me on your side.”
“I’d rather have you under me.”
I shut my eyes and slam both index fingers to the corners, pressing in. This is unbelievable.
“Getting a headache? I know a remedy for that.”
I make the sound of a strangled cat.
His laugh is warm. Rich. Deep.
Jolting, I open my eyes. The laugh doesn’t fit with the criminal vibe. It’s enthralling.
He stops.
I miss the sound immediately. Maybe I need a vacation.
Using one finger, he draws the paper across the table. “Pen.”
I fumble in my briefcase for a blue pen and hand it over.
He signs the retainer quickly and shoves it back at me. “What’s the plan?”
The switch in topics gives me whiplash. Even so, I step on firm ground again. “The prosecuting attorney in your case was just arrested for blackmail, peddling influence, and extortion ... along with the judge, his co-conspirator, who presided over your trial and sentenced you.”
His expression doesn’t alter. “You can secure my freedom?
That’s my plan, but I don’t want to raise his hopes. “I don’t know. My best guess is that I can secure you a new trial.”
“Will I be free for the duration?”
“I’ll make a motion to the court the second I leave here but can’t guarantee the outcome.” I tilt my head. “Your family’s influence would be helpful.”
His chin lowers in an intimidating move. “I don’t have a family. Don’t mention them again.”
I blink. “One more comment.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m sorry about your brother’s death.” His younger brother, rather his half brother, was killed a month ago, possibly by my friend’s boyfriend, if one could call Thorn Beathach a boyfriend.
Alexei just stares at me.
I feel like a puzzle being solved. “There’s a chance his death was part of some sort of social media turf war against Thorn Beathach, who owns Malice Media.” Alexei’s family owns a rival social media platform, and from what I understand, it’s war between them all.
“So?”
This is a mite awkward. “Thorn is currently dating my best friend, so if there’s a conflict of interest, I want you to know about it.” Not that anybody would ever catch Thorn, if he had killed Alexei’s brother after the man had injured Alana. I’m still not sure he was the killer, anyway.
“Are you finished mentioning my family?” Alexei’s tone strongly suggests that I am.
“Yes,” I whisper.
