Page 11 of A Christmas Negotiation

However badly she wanted to do exactly that.

She dropped her hands, and he dropped his, creating distance by stepping away. Isabel stared at the carpet, a perfectly ordinary office gray, as she struggled to regain her composure. She wasn’t regretting the fact that they’d slept together. She found herself again regretting that she’d ever taken on this case.

“Sorry,” Isabel said. “I guess I was in a hurry for us to get back to work.”

Jeremy cleared his throat. “As am I. Lord only knows what Mr. Summers might do if left to his own devices in my office for too long.” He flashed a quick smile at her. “Kidding, of course. He’s fine in there.” He strode to the door and closed it.

Isabel swallowed hard. Something about the sight of his hand against the ebony wood made her pulse skip a beat. She needed to get a grip. She was in the throes of battle with this man. Constantly reminding herself how sexy he was would only put her at a disadvantage. It didn’t matter that he smelled good enough to eat. It didn’t matter how unbelievable he looked in that suit.

“So,” he started. “I take it this is why you didn’t want to discuss your career the other night? Very clever of you.”

“That wasn’t the reason. I truly didn’t want to talk about work. Is that so odd?”

“For someone who seems so eager to embrace her role as attorney, I find that a little peculiar.”

“Eager? I’m just doing my job.” She sat down and crossed her legs, hyperaware of the way her skirt hitched up an inch too far. She tugged at the hem as inconspicuously as possible. She needed to wrestle her side of their sexual tension into submission. It wasn’t good for her or her client.

“Well, I have to admit that you’re good at it. Very good.” Jeremy sat down and drew a circle on the table with his index finger, making eye contact with her the whole time. Her mind zipped back to the memory of his hands on her naked skin—her breasts, her butt, her most delicate places—the parts that made her want him just as bad now as she had the other night. If only things hadn’t ended so disastrously. “I got a little worked up there. You’re definitely the most interesting person I’ve had the chance to spar with in recent history.”

Isabel had always been drawn to that side of the law, where you make an argument, the other side responds with their own, and it then becomes a battle of wills, each party strengthening their stance until someone has no choice but to beg for mercy. Of course, it only felt good to come out on top. It felt horrible to lose. “Hopefully there won’t have to be too much of that. I’d like to come to an agreement, starting with getting that note authenticated.”

Just then the door flew open and a handsome, well-dressed older man stormed in. The resemblance to Jeremy was striking. It was like someone had hit the fast-forward button twenty years.

“Excuse me.” The man barely glanced at Isabel. “Jeremy, can I speak with you?”

Jeremy impatiently rose from his seat, so fast that the chair rolled and hit the table with a thud. “We’re in the middle of something. Can’t this wait?”

“Why is Mr. Summers in your office?”

“He can’t keep himself in line, that’s why,” Jeremy whispered, but it was loud enough for Isabel to hear every word.

The man unsubtly eyed Isabel, then returned his sights to Jeremy. “I’ll go have a chat with him.”

“Please don’t.”

Jeremy’s voice was exceptionally firm, sending a thrill through Isabel, one she tried to ignore. She pulled out a legal pad and made a few scribbles to distract herself.

“All right then,” the man said. “Check in with me when you’re finished.”

Jeremy said nothing in response as the man exited the room, but he had that stressed look on his face—the same one he’d had when he left Isabel’s hotel room. “I’m sorry about that. My dad. He’s supposed to be in partial retirement, but it only means that he has fewer clients but spends just as much time in the office.”

“Leaving him too much time to interfere with what you’re doing?” Isabel asked.

“Yes. Precisely.”

Isabel didn’t know much about Jeremy other than the revelation from Mindy that he’d been married, and apparently to a woman of some social stature, but she did feel bad that his own father was causing him distress. “No worries. Let’s get back to the authentication. I’ve only been in New York a few weeks, so I don’t have an expert on hand in the city. I know several in DC. I’m happy to bring one up.”

“DC, huh? Big Washington lawyer?”

“Not exactly.” Isabel pressed her lips together tightly.

“Something tells me you’re underselling yourself.” Jeremy’s phone beeped with a text. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve been waiting for a message. Do you mind?”

“No. Of course not.”

Jeremy pulled his phone from his pocket, seeming concerned. “Do you think we could discuss the authentication of the letter over dinner? I actually have to run home right now.”

Run home during the day? Did Jeremy have a family? A girlfriend? He was becoming more of a puzzle by the moment. “I hope everything’s okay.”