Page 11 of Not Mine to Rescue

“See? She’s completely trainable. Smart dog. I bet she gets that from her owner.” Our eyes met. Honoria’s mouth was slightly open, as if she had been caught in the act of a gasp. She closed it slowly. A sly smile curled on her lips.

“Do you do the training yourself?”

My mind went somewhere that didn’t involve animals. And with those thoughts, I swept my gaze down her sleek body and back. With a cock-eyed grin of my own, I replied, “With the right ladies.”

Chapter Four

Honoria

Holy panty-melting shit. Even in my wildest fantasies, I never had an inkling of what a long, sultry, visual caress could do to my libido. It was as if Random had dropped a disguise to the ground and become someone completely different. It was strange how he was somehow taller, or how his voice got deeper. Its sensual notes sent a shiver through me.

And don’t get me started on the undeniable way I couldn’t stop staring at his lips. They were expressive, full, and surprisingly soft-looking. Would they be tender if they were on mine? Could they be rough, strong… consuming?

There was only one way to find out, right?

I leaned in…licked my lips…

And an intrusive voice that sounded way too much like my ex-husband repeated in my mind’s eye, “Listen, Honey, you need help with this client. He’s a Destroyer. They are listed on the FBI watch list.”

The reminder made me rock onto my heels.

First and foremost, Random was employed by my client. And involved in an active case. Sure, most of the paperwork was resolved, but dating him would create a power imbalance, which also meant “conflict of interest” and that was a full, final punctuation mark on the topic. While it wasn’t exactly illegal to date whoever you wanted if they weren’t the client or a deciding board member of the company, dating a known member of a “club” on the FBI’s most-wanted list was definitely a fast track to getting passed over for promotions. Suddenly you were handed “easier” cases. Your credibility would be shot to hell, and the fallout would kill your career.

I picked up the conversation where it had veered off course. “Thank you for fitting me into the weekly schedule. I know it’s last minute, but…” I cut myself off before I could wax extremely un-poetically about my ex-husband and his new wife. A million confessions poised on my tongue that would paint him in an unflattering light.

He was at the hospital with Denise.

Just like he’d been there twice with me.

I swallowed.

Was I being mean to him because of my unresolved grief?

It didn’t take a rocket scientist, nor a therapist, to mentally note, That’s a big bull’s-eye there, chica.

Random blinked.

He’d been staring at my lips.

“I get it. Things change. You gotta flex. It’s cool.”

No, it wasn’t. “If it’s too much of an imposition, or if you need help with the capacity, I can—” What could I do? Not much. But I knew people. “I could put in a good word with a business lawyer I know.”

He smiled. “We’ve got a business lawyer. The club keeps one of those on retainer, too.”

Oh.

Another reminder of how closely he was tied to the person who hired the firm to represent him. “Not you and Lemon?”

His expression dimmed. “Listen, it’s—it’s no problem if you need change your mind. We got this, Lemon and I can… we got it.”

That wasn’t convincing.

“And what happens if you’re sentenced to county for that stunt you pulled last Friday night?”

There was a flash of something on his face. It wasn’t quite fear. Perhaps it was anger. I couldn’t tell. But I’d seen it several times before. Any time I broached the possibility that one of my cases would end with unpleasant results, I saw it. Only the most hardened career criminals didn’t flinch.

Or if they did, the emotion didn’t last long before they covered it up.