14

“Ask me in,” Quint ordered, even as Rachel was fumbling with the chain.

She opened the door and he stepped inside her apartment. They faced each other wordlessly. Rachel was the first to break the silence between them.

“I—just got out of the bathtub.” She felt an acute breathless shyness that metamorphosed into a pressing need to explain her robe, her humidified hair, her flushed damp skin.

“So I see.” His hungry dark eyes drank in the sight of her.

Rachel blushed and reflexively tightened the terry tie of her robe.

“Thank you for not asking why I’m here,” Quint growled. “We’ve moved too far beyond those games to start playing them now.”

Rachel smiled wryly. “We’re past that crucial third date, hmm? Time to—”

“I need to be with you,” Quint said huskily. He saw her mouth tremble and part, and he traced the outline of her lips with his finger.

Rachel shivered. His touch was like electricity coursing through her. She felt the current flow to her every cell, as if sealing the connection between them.

“I need to be with you, too, Quint.” Her voice ached with need. And love.

She was in love with him, Rachel conceded to herself. She knew it was too soon to say the words to Quint. Her hesitance had nothing to do with Games People Play or The Rules and everything to do with timing. She would tell Quint she loved him when the time was right for such an emotional declaration.

It wasn’t now.

Right now the atmosphere was thick with sexual tension. With urgency and lust. Rachel was enthralled. Rampant sexual need glittered in Quint’s eyes, and she knew her eyes reflected her own intense desire. It was intoxicating, knowing how much he wanted her, and returning his feelings in full measure. Right now there was no need for any words at all.

As if they’d been choreographed, they moved at the same moment, into each other’s arms. Quint’s mouth closed over hers in a passionate, possessive kiss. Rachel sighed deeply, her body softening in his arms as his body grew hard and taut, the primal male response to her enveloping feminine sensuality.

She clung to him as his tongue glided over hers, rubbing and stroking, and opened her mouth wider, inviting him deeper and deeper within. Her breasts surged and swelled and filled his hands.

They kissed and kissed, his thumbs moving lightly, deftly over her nipples that were sensitive and engorged and straining against the cotton barrier of her robe. Rachel twisted sinuously against him as sensual anticipation blazed. She wanted her breasts to be bare. She wanted to feel Quint’s mouth on them, the pull of his lips, the flick of his tongue.

Liquid heat flooded her and she felt herself tumbling out of control. She gave a sharp little cry and arched into him, rocking her hips against him, further inflaming them both.

He slipped his hand into the folds of her robe and reached between her legs to cup her hot throbbing center. She moaned into his mouth and her fingers sought him, tracing the thick fascinating shape of him through the denim of his jeans.

And then the phone rang. And kept ringing.

“No!” Quint gasped as Rachel pushed away from him. “Ignore it. We’ve had too many interruptions already. We aren’t going to have another one.” He reached out to pull her back to him but she managed to sidestep him.

“What if it’s Sarah calling about Brady?” Rachel’s breath was shallow and rapid. “You told her where she could reach you, didn’t you? What if Carla called about some new problem with your father? Or—Or it could even be Laurel.”

She headed to the kitchen to answer her phone but before she could reach it, her answering machine automatically clicked on after six rings. Rachel stopped in her tracks and listened.

“Hey, Rach, this is Wade,” her cousin’s voice came over the line. “Just returning your ten thousand messages. I think you used up the whole tape,” he joked. “Anyway, it looks like we’re playing a game of telephone tag, so why don’t we just call it quits for tonight? I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.”

Rachel looked up to see Quint staring at her. His breathing was ragged, his body was tense, hard and flushed with desire.

“We’re unplugging the damn phone,” he said, his voice low and raw. “The world will just have to get along without us for the next few hours.”

He unplugged the phone, then swept her up in his arms to carry her into her bedroom and lay her down on the queen-size bed she had bought for herself two years ago. Her mother and sister had told her it a waste of her money. Why not simply use the old twin bed from her childhood room until she met Mr. Right, who would buy her a brand-new bed after she’d maneuvered him into exchanging wedding rings?

Rachel had not only bought the bed, she’d purchased an entire bedroom set and wallpapered to match her new sheets, quilt, and pillow shams. And now Quint was here, the first man to cross the threshold.

He looked big and masculine and jarringly out of place among the dainty violet, yellow, and green floral prints. The very feminine decor enhanced his virility and strength and sent a striking thrill of awareness through her.

“Think we can remember where we were a few minutes ago?” Quint stood beside the bed, staring down at her in a way that made her insides melt.

“We can try.” Her smile was inviting, tempting.

Rachel rose to her knees on the bed and reached for him. A potent mixture of love and desire made her bold. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans while he shrugged off his shirt.

He quickly dispatched her robe to the floor, and she found herself kneeling naked in front of him. “I don’t think we were quite this far a few minutes ago,” she said in a high nervous voice. She felt almost virginal, she was definitely a sexual novice, having only done this once before.

Perhaps it was her lawyer’s training in regards to the principle of Full Disclosure that made her admit her lack of experience to Quint. “Just thought I should warn you, instead of using it to ambush you.”

“Let’s make a pact.” He smiled, brushing her hair back from her face. “We will never ambush each other in the bedroom. That’s strictly a courtroom tactic.”

“You’re telling me. You used it to great effect during the Pedersen trial.”

“If that’s a compliment, thank you.”

“It’s a statement of fact to the lawyer who made dog food out of my case.”

Quint laughed and moved even closer. “Sweetheart, I’ve told you time and again that your case was a dog.”

The tips of her breasts brushed the wiry mat of hair on his chest. Rachel quivered. Every inch of her skin tingled and burned like sensuous wildfire. “Back then, who would’ve ever guessed that we’d end up like this?” Her voice was husky and thick.

“I wanted to, Rachel,” Quint confessed. He freed himself of his jeans and his boxer shorts, then took her hand and wrapped it around the pulsing length of him.

“You did?” She stared, transfixed by the erotic sight of her fingers holding him.

“I know it’s hard for you to believe because you wanted to behead me during that trial.” He chuckled softly. “And it was pretty humbling, finding myself attracted to a woman who thought I had all the appeal of a serial killer. It took me quite a while to admit it to myself.”

“I thought about you obsessively during that trial,” Rachel murmured. “I’ve never been so aware of another person in my life. I thought it was hate.” She shook her head ruefully. “I guess I had to think that.”

“True.” Quint laughed again. “If you’d thought you were attracted to me while I was carving up your case, Lord only knows what you might’ve done.”

“Maybe I’d’ve taken you hostage, counselor.”

He caught her hand before she could tweak him in a vital area. “That could be construed as an ambush, Rachel,” he reminded her.

“Then I’ll switch tactics.” She caressed him instead.

He sighed. “Much better.”

His hands moved over her curves, leisurely touching her everywhere, lightly but not lingering, tantalizing but not claiming her. He kissed her the same way, his mouth taking hers in brief teasing little kisses. Kisses her lips clung to and returned.

Entranced, she explored him, running her fingers up and down and over him, kneading and caressing him, learning what particular touches made him groan with pleasure. Seducing herself as she seduced him.

Finally, unable to remain still any longer under her sensual explorations, he tumbled her down on the mattress and lay beside her. Closing her eyes, she held him, feeling his muscular body against hers.

His hands were warm and sensitive as he fondled her breasts, lifting the soft full curves, stroking her, brushing his fingertips around her nipples yet carefully avoiding the swollen tips. He was teasing her, enticing her, making her wait.

She pressed against his hands, seeking what she needed. Demanding what she craved … his fingers on the taut aching buds. “Quint!” she cried his name when he acceded to her wishes and rubbed his thumbs over her rosy nipples.

“Do you like that?” he rasped. The slight stubble on his jaw scraped the sensitive valley between her breasts, the added stimulation taking her to a higher high.

“Yes,” she groaned mindlessly. “Oh yes, Quint.”

“Good. Just relax and let me make you feel good, Rachel. I want to make you feel good …”

And he did. He kissed her breasts, the way she’d been longing for him to do. The feel of his mouth on her nipples made her shudder with pleasure. She’d never dreamed anything could feel so wonderful … Until he trailed his lips along her the soft flesh of her belly while his hands continued to tantalize her breasts. Oh yes, that was just as good, perhaps even better?

While she was dizzily contemplating this erotic conundrum, he grasped her buttocks and pressed his mouth to her. Her body arched wildly, as if she’d been shocked. In a way she had, for the touch of his tongue on the most intimate private part of her was sensually electrifying, like nothing she’d ever experienced. Her mind spun into a zone of sheer hedonistic rapture.

Her hips began to move in helpless rhythm with his mouth; her breathing quickened and became choppy. She uttered a low moan of pleasure. And then another. The aching want overwhelmed her, a blood-rushing urgency made her crazy with tremulous need.

She gasped his name, cried it, as her body suddenly shattered in ecstasy. He held on, riding out the storm with her. When he felt her stop shivering, he moved up to take her in his arms.

“That was beautiful, you’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely.

Rachel was too dazed to speak. When his mouth met hers, fiery, hot and hungry, she responded, though she was still lost in the sweet haze of sexual oblivion.

He rose above her, positioning himself to enter her. Her limbs felt limp and heavy and she lay open to him, a syrupy warmth suffusing her.

She watched him sheath himself with a condom from the box he’d brought with him, a bit awed by his dexterity. And by the sheer male size of him. She tensed.

Slowly, he thrust into her. Stretching her. Filling her. Rachel whimpered, overwhelmed. He was so big and this was all so new. She felt overmatched, overpowered. A sheen of perspiration dampened her brow.

But Quint whispered to her, complimenting her, encouraging her. Teasing her with sexy words that no one had ever spoken to her. She felt her body melting into a liquid silky heat as she began to adjust to his size and strength. She concentrated on the blend of sensations within her. Thick. Tight. Full.

Rachel decided that it wasn’t so bad. In fact, she liked it. A streak of pure pleasure rippled through her. She loved it. Loved him, and sharing her body with him. Her eyes opened and she looked into his face, adoring him.

She slid her hands over his stomach, his hips, and he muttered something unintelligible. She felt a twinge of feminine pride. To have induced speechlessness in the usually prodigiously verbal Quint Cormack was no small feat, but she had done it.

Rachel shifted her hips and took him deeper. He set a slow, steady rhythm that she matched at first, until the excitement flaring inside her demanded a faster pace. She clenched her inner muscles and arched against him. He provided what she needed, moving harder and faster. They kissed, deeply, passionately, adding a loving intimacy to their urgency.

Rachel’s control vanished, and she savored the wild abandon of their lovemaking. She gave herself to him completely, trusting him, reveling in the mindless bliss of pure physical pleasure. The sensations built and spun.

Together they soared to the heights and hung there for a timeless interlude of shared rapture. It seemed to last forever and it seemed to end all too soon.

Finally he collapsed against her, and they lay across the bed, spent, holding on to each other. Eventually, Quint shifted his weight off her but tucked her into his side, keeping her close. He pressed soft, hot little kisses on her throat and shoulder, her neck and hair.

Rachel held him, stroking her hands along the broad width of his back. She felt languid and lighter than air, bathed in the warm afterglow of sated passion.

Neither felt the need to speak. They were beyond words.

Seated at the table in the conference room Monday morning, an astonished Rachel listened to Aunt Eve tick off the list of complaints that had been lodged against the Tildens.

Breaking and entering. Criminal trespass. Burglary. Grand larceny. Terroristic threats. And if those weren’t enough, an allegation of conspiracy loomed as a possible addendum. Criminal charges were pending, unless Misty agreed to drop the complaint.

Rachel tried to take it all in. “The police won’t actually consider—”

“The police are most definitely considering pressing charges, Rachel,” Eve interjected. “They have no choice, really. These complaints are extremely serious ones, and unless Misty Tilden withdraws—correction, unless Quinton Cormack withdraws them, arrest warrants will be issued.”

“It’s strictly Cormack’s move to make because he is calling all the shots for his client,” Wade said mournfully. “Everybody knows that, even the cops.”

Eve closed her eyes, as if in prayer. “God, I could use a cigarette.”

“You gave up smoking years ago, Aunt Eve,” Rachel reminded her. “Here, have a mint.” She pushed the candy dish in her aunt’s direction. Eve groaned and shoved it away.

Rachel was floundering in a sea of confusion. Despite all the time they’d spent together this weekend, despite their passion-filled night which had not ended until his departure shortly before six this morning, Quint hadn’t mentioned a word of the Tilden crisis to her. The omission seemed deliberately deceptive but what worried her even more was her newfound ability to imagine—and condone?—his reply to her, should she ask him why.

He would insist that their professional and personal spheres were separate and did not intersect and instead of arguing the point, she would gaze into his dark eyes and forget everything but the need to be with him. To talk with him, to laugh and to argue with him. To have him inside her. He would know that, of course, especially after her total unqualified surrender last night. Rachel flinched.

“We need to meet with Quint Cormack to discuss dropping the complaint, but he won’t see us,” lamented Wade.

“Are you sure?” Rachel felt anxiety churning.

Eve nodded tersely. “The Tildens are scheduled to arrive here for a meeting at two o’clock and they think Cormack is going to be here. Unfortunately, he won’t be. He adamantly refuses to come to our office and of course, the Tildens won’t go to his. Town Junior has set it up as a power play, and Cormack knows it. I’ve called him several times this morning but he won’t bend. In fact, his secretary said that he won’t take any more calls from me today.”

“Why should he?” Wade was glum. “He’s holding all the aces, and all we’ve got is a lousy handful of deuces.”

“We aren’t even in the game.” Eve grabbed a mint and practically inhaled it. “Cormack is toying with us by biding his time. He says he’ll meet with us at his office next week but by then—”

“Charges might already be filed and arrest warrants issued,” Wade finished. “The cops aren’t going to wait forever. Of course, it won’t be our problem by then because the Tildens are going to fire us today when they show up here and Cormack doesn’t.”

“Don’t say that!” cried Rachel. “We can’t lose the Tildens as clients! The Saxons have always represented the Tildens. It’s a tradition!”

Three pairs of hazel eyes met in grim understanding. Representing the Tildens was a prestigious tradition. Tilden business was the bulwark of Saxon Associates’ practice. What law firm could afford to lose their wealthiest, most important clients?

“Nick says our only hope is to get Misty to drop the complaint, and we can’t get to her without going through Quinton Cormack.” Eve shook her head wearily. ‘The Tildens will blame us, of course, they’ll blame us for everything. Somebody will have to take the fall and unfortunately, Saxon Associates is the most convenient scapegoat.”

“Who’s Nick?” asked Rachel.

Eve cleared her thoat. “Chief Spagna. I’ve—discussed this matter at length with him privately.”

“I can’t believe you had to talk to the police chief about possible criminal charges pending against the Tildens!” Rachel clutched her head in her hands. “It’s surreal! Aunt Eve, how did you manage to endure that scene without going orbital? These charges are trumped up and everybody involved knows it. Just thinking about the—the blatant manipulation and the collusion and the total unfairness makes me want to scream.”

“Been there, done that, dear.” Eve actually laughed.

Wade eyed his aunt keenly, impressed by her calm demeanor, a sharp contrast from her wild fury at the police station a couple days earlier. Was it possible that she hadn’t exacerbated the situation by forever alienating the chief during their private talk? That was a positive sign—the only one they had going for them, as far as he could see.

“Wade, you’re very friendly with the little Sheely girl who works for Cormack,” Eve said. “I know this is unorthodox, not to mention humiliating, but would you ask her to intercede on our behalf? Maybe she could convince her boss to meet with us today?”

“It won’t work, Aunt Eve.”

“But it can’t hurt to ask,” Eve argued.

“I already did.” Wade gave the candy dish a hard spin, and it rotated wildly until Rachel caught and halted it. He scowled. “I called Dana this morning. It was clear to me that Cormack told her not to get involved. He undoubtedly stressed Shawn’s role in the situation, probably hyped it to the max. I’m sure Cormack warned her not to let herself be—be—used by me.”

“How unfair and completely uncalled for!” Eve was indignant. “You’ve been close to the Sheelys for years.”

“And I would never use Dana.” Wade snatched the candy dish away from Rachel and sent it on another wild spin. “Of course, Cormack must’ve made it sound like I’m already trying to use her. Dana seemed so distant.” He averted his eyes, afraid they would betray how very much that phone call had disturbed him.

Eve seemed to know. “Maybe you’re reading too much into it,” she suggested quietly. “Maybe she seemed preoccupied because she is so upset about her brother’s involvement in this whole mess.”

“She wasn’t preoccupied, she was glacial.”

The candy dish sailed off the table, spilling mints everywhere. The three Saxons sat still, lost in their own thoughts, oblivious to the flying mints.

Rachel stared, bemused by the sight of her cousin, disheartened and distressed in a way she’d never seen him. And Aunt Eve seemed to be taking the threat of the Tildens’ defection with almost-Zen-like acceptance, totally at odds with her usually fierce fighting spirit.

Rachel was completely bewildered. She felt as if she’d missed a few vital clues and could make no sense with the ones she already had. “What does Shawn Sheely have to do with anything?”

Wade and Aunt Eve told her about Misty’s companion, collaborator, and witness to the alleged Tilden crime spree. Rachel immediately made the connection to Sarah’s distress last night. No wonder the girl had been upset!

“The Sheelys are so wholesome, so upstanding, and Misty Tilden is—not.” Rachel felt real sympathy. “I can’t imagine one of them mixed up with her.”

“Neither can they, but according to Dana, Shawn claims they don’t know the real Misty. He intends to continue seeing her—and says he hopes to be more than friends with her. Way more than friends. I—uh—saw Dana after she and her sisters tried to set Little Brother straight last night,” Wade added, his voice trailing off.

He was aware that a flush was spreading from his neck to his face. There was additional information he had no intention of sharing with his aunt and cousin. Last night he’d hung around outside the apartment building where Mary Jo lived with her husband, the place where the Sheely sisters met to discuss the errant behavior of brother Shawn.

And when Dana had emerged, sobbing with sadness and frustration at Shawn’s refusal to see things their way, he had driven her to his apartment so she could calm down before going home. She couldn’t let her mom and dad see her so upset. In an earlier flurry of anxious phone calls, Tim and his sisters had agreed to spare their parents and younger siblings the news. At least for now.

Wade had offered Dana what comfort and words of advice he could. And he had ended up taking her to bed and giving her all the pleasure and fulfillment that he hadn’t delivered in Connecticut. She had matched his hunger and need with her own passionate responses, leaving him dazed and replete with unparalleled sensual bliss.

After hours of mind-bending marvelous fusion, they had reluctantly parted—on the best possible terms, he had thought. But when he’d called Dana this morning to ask for help with Quint Cormack, she had replied with all the warmth of a recorded message reciting the latest weather forecast. Maybe even less.

Obviously, Cormack had warned her to beware of Saxons asking for favors and she had bought into her boss’s poisonous suggestion that Wade was unscrupulous enough to use her to benefit Saxon Associates. The premise enraged him. Dana ought to know better! Certainly, she should know him better than that; she should trust him. He wondered what he would do if she wouldn’t trust him. If she refused to see him. He closed his eyes, as if to shut out the pain.

“What are we going to do?” Rachel’s impassioned cry jolted him back to awareness. She was burning with the zeal that both he and Eve lacked today.

“There has to be something!” Rachel insisted. “We can’t just sit around and wait for the Tildens to arrive and fire us!”

“I did consider filing a cross complaint on behalf of the Tildens,” Eve said. “Both Shawn and Misty held them at gunpoint for a time that night. I wondered if it could be considered reckless endangerment and maybe even unlawful restraint. It’s a bit of a stretch but no more so than Cormack’s grand larceny and conspiracy concoctions. And there seems to have been enough menacing words flung about for a terroristic threats complaint of our own.”

“That’s brillant, Aunt Eve!” Rachel enthused. “We’ll go to the police station with the Tildens this afternoon.”

“I already ran the plan by Nick and he says it won’t fly.” Eve sighed softly. “He’s right, of course. Since Misty and Shawn filed first, a Johnny-come-lately counter complaint by the Tildens seems suspect. At best, it turns the situation into a they said/they said statement.”

“We could live with that, couldn’t we?” quizzed Rachel.

“Perhaps. If we weren’t dealing with Quinton Cormack.” Eve shrugged. “With him representing Misty, we’re forced to consider the worst-case scenario—that the Tildens could be countercharged with harrassment. Nick believes that Cormack would also include complaints of slander and malicious mischief. It’s daring, it’s outlandish, and only Quinton Cormack and Nick Spagna, who do not view the Tildens as demigods, would go through with it. But they will.”

“If Cormack and Spagna are the only ones who don’t pay homage to the Tildens, what does that make us? The town toadies?” Wade scowled.

Well, weren’t they? He remembered all the times he’d felt like an ingratiating toady around various Tildens. The “truth hurts” cliché seemed painfully apt.

“Nick says it won’t fly, Nick is right,” Rachel repeated, troubled. “Are you sure we should be taking Chief Spagna’s advice, Aunt Eve?”

“Yeah, according to Spagna, Cormack is Superman, Lawyer of Steel,” Wade said derisively. “Kryptonite might stop him, but the feeble Saxons don’t stand a chance against him. Chief Spagna is so pro-Cormack he might as well proclaim it on a bumper sticker on his squad car.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Wade.” Eve rose to her feet. “Ask the little Sheely girl to come in here and pick up these mints,” she added absently.

“Never mind, I’ll do it.” Sighing, Wade began to pick up the mints himself and throw them into the trash basket. “Katie would put them right back in the candy dish.”

“Possibly to be consumed by the Tildens this afternoon.” Aunt Eve seemed to be considering the idea.

Wade immediately transferred the mints back into the candy dish. “Seeing Sloane eat a mint that’s been on the floor and in the trash might be petty revenge, but it works for me.”

“We’re in the midst of a serious crisis and you two are plotting revenge with mints?” Rachel was exasperated. She snatched the candy dish from Wade and dumped the mints back into the trash can with an air of finality. “We have to do something. We have to take action!”

“Okay, Rach. Why don’t you go over to Cormack’s office and ask him if he’ll come here this afternoon and meet with us and the Tildens?” Wade challenged. “Is that enough action for you?”

He had used that same tone and smirk back when they were kids and he’d dared her to go on the Heart Attack, the triple-loop upside-down roller coaster on a boardwalk pier in Wildwood. Rachel had declined then, and she knew Wade fully expected her to refuse to go to. Quint’s office now.

But there were a few facts he was missing. Her face was flushed and hot, and her voice seemed to be echoing in her ears. “All right, I will,” she heard herself say.

“While we appreciate your offer, I have to warn you in advance that it’s useless, dear. Cormack will surely refuse.” Aunt Eve patted Rachel’s arm. “Don’t go, Rachel. You were distraught over the Pedersen case, and I’m concerned about you putting yourself in Quinton Cormack’s line of fire once again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’ll get shot down like one of those ducks in a shooting gallery on the boardwalk,” added Wade gloomily.

If they only knew! Rachel swallowed hard. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I’ll go over there right now.”

She paused as she headed down the plushly carpeted corridor. “And Wade, don’t call Dana Sheely and warn her that I’m on my way over. Today I really would like to take advantage of—the element of surprise.”

“Dana won’t take a call from me anyway,” Wade said darkly. “I talked to her once and then I was told she wouldn’t accept any more calls from me.”

“By their dragon receptionist-secretary,” Eve surmised. “I was also told by Commandant Helen that no calls from Saxon Associates were to be put through.”

“Shunned by Cormack and Son.” Wade shook his head. “How the mighty have fallen and all that.”

“We haven’t fallen,” Eve insisted. “This is merely a—professional setback.”

“And the trouble in Northern Ireland is just a little spat among friends,” mumbled Rachel.

The trio walked to the reception area, where young Katie Sheely was busily typing away on her computer keyboard.

“Katie, what are you working on?” Wade asked, after he’d recovered from the shock of seeing her so thoroughly engrossed in any kind of office function.

Katie didn’t look away from the screen. “I’m in an X-Files chat room. You wouldn’t believe how outrageous this one guy’s theory is! I think he might be an alien clone himself.”

Eve opened her mouth as if to speak, then swiftly turned and headed back to her office without saying a word.

“Considering everything, Aunt Eve has shown remarkable restraint today,” Wade murmured to Rachel. “I mean, contrast her attitude this morning to last week, when she was ready to take us apart, piece by piece. And you should’ve seen how infuriated she was in the police station Saturday morning! When she went over to talk to the chief after the Tilden meeting, I had visions of her being charged with felonious assault.”

“I’m worried. It’s unlike Aunt Eve to be so—so mellow!” Rachel frowned.

It was confusing, this role reversal being played by her aunt and cousin. Instead of being laid-back by the threat to their firm, Wade was actually concerned, while Aunt Eve seemed to have adopted ‘Que Será, Será’ as her official motto. Whatever will be, will be.

“Not mellow,” countered Wade. “More like fatalistic. Whatever Spagna said to her really made an impression. Well, he is an intimidating guy.”

“Aunt Eve wouldn’t be intimidated by any man, Wade.”

“Then maybe he makes one helluva convincing argument. Remember, he was a homicide detective in Newark, so he’s gotta know how to make others take him seriously. After dealing with murderers, Aunt Eve probably wasn’t even a challenge for him.”

“You could be right. Maybe Chief Spagna shouldn’t be underestimated.”

“Of course, we’re good at that, Rach, at underestimating people,” Wade said ruefully. “We sure did it with Quint Cormack, didn’t we?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, we did. But we shouldn’t underestimate ourselves, either, Wade. Saxon Associates can’t simply give in and give up!”

Rachel repeated it like a mantra during the drive to Quint’s office. She practiced what she would say to him and how she would say it, professionally, politely, as one attorney to another. By the time she pulled into the parking lot—a train was roaring by, shaking her car so hard that her CD player skipped—she had worked herself into a state of throat-closing anxiety.

Sitting in her car, she tried to bolster her confidence by putting aside her rehearsed arguments to Attorney Quinton Cormack, legal opponent and relentless competitor, and focusing on the other Quint. Her lover.

Last night he had held her in his arms, he had filled her body, ferociously seeking pleasure for her as well as taking his own. They had touched and tasted every inch of each other’s bodies, getting to know each other in the most intimate ways possible. The mark on her neck had faded but she had secret ones in places that made her blush just remembering. And she’d branded him, likewise.

She thought of their sexy whispered confidences, the soft words in the dark, the shattering intimacy that bound her to him in a bond she knew she could never experience with anyone else. It had to be the same for him. Last night, she would’ve bet her life on that certainty.

But now, as she walked into the grimly utilitarian offices of Cormack and Son, the twin devils of doubt and insecurity sprang back to life to plague her. Quint had mentioned the necessity of separating their professional careers from their personal lives several times; he’d stressed that the two were disparate and distinct.

Suppose the professional Quint refused to see her, in keeping with his Saxon boycott? Rachel’s heart thundered in her chest. Despite Quint’s warnings, those two separate spheres had converged for her, and she knew she would take his snub personally, as a rejection by her lover.

She wasn’t ready to deal with the loss and the pain of that particular trauma. Would she ever be?

Helen, seated at her desk sorting through a stack of mail, no longer looked like a kindly grandmother, she appeared somewhat … well, commandant-ish.

Nervously, Rachel squared her shoulders and approached the older woman’s desk, a tremulous smile in place. “I’d like to see Quint, please.”

“Miss Saxon.” Helen stared at her curiously. “I know he isn’t expecting you.”

Rachel’s smile grew brighter. She realized she was aping Laurel’s irresistibly adorable smile and felt a twinge of shame. Which swiftly disappeared when Helen smiled back.

“I’ll let him know you’re here.” Helen hit the intercom button. “Quint, you have a visitor. Rachel Saxon is here.”

Two doors opened at the same time. Dana Sheely stood in the doorway of one, Quint in the other. Rachel saw them look at each other. Neither spoke as they watched her walk toward them. She realized that they both knew why she was here. The element of surprise had already been lost to Aunt Eve’s and Wade’s desperate barrage of phone calls this morning.

Dana retreated into her office and closed the door. Quint remained in the doorway until Rachel stood before him.

His expression was enigmatic, even his normally expressive dark eyes gave away nothing. Rachel couldn’t tell if he was glad to see her or annoyed that she was here. She had no idea if he would honor or refuse her request to meet with the Tildens at Saxon Associates office.

Did he think she’d crossed the line by coming over here to ask him? At least, he had agreed to meet with her. She wished he would say something, but it was clear that he was waiting for her to speak first.

The last time she’d seen him, a few hours ago, she had been lying in bed, watching him get dressed to leave. She’d been satiated from making love, too drowsy to reach for the sheet to cover her nakedness. He had done that before he left, kissing her tenderly and tucking the sheet around her.

Now she was wearing her tailored gray silk suit and dark plum-colored blouse—conservative, serious clothing and colors to endorse her professionalism, not meant to entice or excite.

“Good morning, Quint.” Her voice shook. Her clothing seemed to be serving its purpose. He didn’t look at all enticed or excited.

Rachel felt the tremors rock her body, felt the weakness in her knees and the fluttering in her stomach, all the tangible signs of her awareness of him. Of her need for him. The sexual heat between them was fierce, but her feelings for him went so much deeper, to the elemental part of her.

She realized in that moment that he had become as essential to her as her heartbeat. It was a revealing yet depressing insight because she knew it wasn’t reciprocal.

Quint had compartmentalized his feelings for her and openly admitted it. Lawyer in one place, lover in another. That was convenience, not elemental need.

And here they were, the legal eagle and the woman-in-love, who had both escaped from their respective compartments.

Rachel gulped. “I—guess you know why I’m here.”

“Why don’t you come into my office and tell me, so I won’t have to guess?”

He placed his hand between her shoulder blades to usher her inside.