Chapter One

Two weeks earlier

Victoria Whittingstall leveled her gaze on the handsome barrister and silently dared him to say another word. She was, after all, the presiding judge. Their eyes locked.

“My Lady, if it pleases the court, may I approach the bench?” The cocky young barrister’s tone held a hint of challenge.

“It does not please the court. You may state your business in situ, and I’d advise you to be quick about it.” She looked around the courtroom as the audience grew still, unabashedly absorbed in the curious interaction between the two of them.

“Well…” He drew out the word, his low tone making it sound almost sensual. “Perhaps, My Lady would like to review my full brief in chambers at your leisure?”

Tori straightened. Had she imagined it, or had the too-sexy-for-his-black-robes barrister just slanted a fast glance down his body toward his crotch?

Where she now found herself staring.

Seething with an odd mix of annoyance and arousal, her own body came alive. Her toes tingled, and her nipples tightened. And parts in between throbbed deliciously. The flattering attention of this gorgeous guy made her feel much younger and sexier than she had in years. Her mouth curled in the tiniest of smiles.

He threw in yet another “If it pleases the court, My Lady.”

Her gaze flicked back up to his face.

His expression was amused. The hotshot young barrister, Ian King, was a master of innuendo. Among other things. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“It pleases the court to have you drop it. Now.”

She’d just issued an ultimatum, of sorts. It captivated the spectators, everyone glancing back and forth between them, waiting to see what he would say or do next.

It irked her that there were more people here today, the courtroom nearly filled to capacity. Was all of legal London here to watch them spar?

Court watchers, press, even clerks had been following the byplay for weeks, finding the oddly sexual, burgeoning feud between the staid older judge and a sexy, up-and-coming barrister the most fascinating turn in years.

Now, she and King were locked in a dueling stare that had everyone holding their breath.

Finally breaking away, he responded in a low voice, “As you wish.”

At the sound of the audience’s collective sigh, relief washed through her. They had realized the fun was over.

She resumed her routine questioning in the mundane administrative hearing.

The youngest judge ever to rise to the High Court, Tori needed to maintain decorum in her courtroom and in her person. Appointed, as is custom, by the queen herself, she had recently become one of only twenty women out of more than one hundred high court judges in all of England. With that honor had come the title of dame commander of the Order of the British Empire, as well as prestige, social standing, and a salary that had allowed her to finally purchase her own flat—a very nice one at that.

Her breath caught when the young barrister strode forward to submit a document.

How old was young Mr. King, anyway?

Mid thirties, she guessed, but— Wow! Tall, blond, and blue eyed. Cool blue, like arctic ice.

Her gaze lowered again, and she wished for a quick glimpse of his physique under the long court robes. Having seen him about, in and out of court, she knew he had a tight body and chiseled muscles, and he moved liked an athlete. No. More like a panther, a predatory cat whose lithe grace was beautiful to look at, but deadly, too. These last few weeks in court with him, she’d been wondering what it might be like to have sex with such a man.

He deserved his professional arrogance, she conceded. Reluctantly. An enormously gifted barrister, he’d worked his way up quickly. But he’d become too cocky by far—always pushing her buttons for no apparent reason. She’d enjoy bringing him down a peg or two. And yet…

“Semel in anno licet insanire,” she mumbled quietly in her old county-school Latin. Once in a year, one is allowed to go crazy. If there was ever a time in her life when she could forgive herself some naughty fun, it should be on her birthday. She turned forty-three today.

Armed with her flimsy justification, she raised her hand and addressed the court at large. “It seems we are at an impasse regarding the disclosure issue before us. The court is considering a recess to allow counsel to review and further augment the documentation.”

Immediately, clerks began shoving papers into folders.

Narrowing her gaze on her young nemesis, she added, “Regarding your earlier proposition, Mr. King. If I thought there was anything worthy of my full attention in your aforementioned brief”—she flicked the quickest glance downward—“anything at all, I would consider reviewing it, but I think whatever you might have would be…scanty, at best.”

Surprised spectators paused mid–paper shove, their eyes swiveling back to her. Silence prevailed.

King appeared surprised, too. His lips parted, and his head tilted as he studied her. The quiet, oh-so-proper Judge Whittingstall had suddenly, unexpectedly, thrown down a verbal gauntlet, and he looked uncertain whether or not to pick it up.

After a moment, he strutted forward—literally strutted, as if beautiful peacock feathers were arrayed in full glory behind him. Reaching the bench, he stood squarely and proudly below her.

Adopting a serious expression on his Jude Law–esque face, he countered, “With the utmost respect to your learned self, I beg to differ. I think My Lady would find a full load of information to examine, so hefty it would require two hands and considerable time to explore.”

As his words sank in, the spectators covered their snickers with coughs and more paper shuffling, but all eyes swung in her direction.

A momentary panic gripped her, but she forced it away, subduing her reflexive propriety before it took over. Having thrown caution to the wind, she wouldn’t back down now.

She gave her tone a full measure of gravitas. “Mr. King, the court finds that it cannot accept, sight unseen, such grand claims to an abundance of…information. However, should such an enormity exist, this court would be fully capable of taking it all in and making comprehensive use of it, I assure you.”

She reined in the smirk threatening to emerge, forcing a bland expression instead.

He grinned cheekily back. “Well then, My Lady, might I respectfully repeat my request to meet you in camera so I might personally present my case? I would relish the opportunity to demonstrate my skill in providing abundant service to the court.”

He stared impudently at her, and her eyes flashed back with heat. The tension between them was almost palpable, a live wire of electricity sizzling from where he stood below, up to her, seated high above him.

Her body grew hot, her sex throbbing.

She suddenly wished the baron wasn’t out of town.

She urgently needed a good bonk…even a perfunctory one like the kind preferred by her longtime companion, Rupert, The Right Honorable Lord Bridlington.

She sighed. Like a splash of cold water to her face, her tepid love life reminded her of the futility of continuing this arousing but ultimately useless repartee with a too-young barrister in open court. It could go nowhere, because it would damage her reputation, perhaps even ruin her career, if it ever came out that she was having an affair with a barrister from her court. Not to mention the embarrassment of looking like some cougar chasing a younger man.

Directing her gaze back to her adversary, she cleared her throat and pronounced in her most dignified tone, “Mr. King, this discussion can go nowhere. I suggest you focus on the case.”

She raised her hand to silence him when he opened his mouth to rebut.

“Court is adjourned! We’ll reconvene tomorrow to review additional documentation.”