“I don’t remember hearing it before.” Her slight body blocked the doorway. His gaze slid over her and lingered on her red toenails. Her feet were bare—and so damn cute.
“I can say please…” His eyes lifted to her face. “I can also say that I’m sorry.”
She didn’t budge. “Are you?”
“Sorrier than I can fucking say.”
Her eyes glinted. “Maybe you should try.”
He’d try anything. “I didn’t take the job because of your father. I didn’t care about his money. I care about you.”
“I don’t want lies—”
He touched her. He had to. Chance wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “I’m not lying to you. When Will told me that you might be in danger, all I wanted to do was get close to you. I had been thinking about you, dreaming about you, every single night. And even if Will hadn’t come to my office, you can bet…I would have come to you. Because I couldn’t stay away any longer.” His right hand rose and curled under the delicate line of her jaw. “I missed you.”
She wasn’t speaking.
Hell, he knew how important this moment was. He couldn’t afford a screw up with Gwen. She mattered too much. If she wanted him to beg, he would. Pride didn’t matter. She did.
So tell her your secrets. Show her what she means to you.
Gwen stepped back. “Come inside.”
Yes!
“I’m not forgiving you. I’m just saying that I don’t want to have this conversation in the middle of an open doorway.” She turned, giving him her back. “Especially if I’ve got some psycho on my tail—and it sure looks that way. So come in, lock the door, and say whatever it is that you need to say.” She paced toward the window. The curtains had been pulled back so the glittering lights of the city shone inside.
He shut the door. Locked it. And tried to find the right words to give her…words that would convince Gwen that she truly was the woman he wanted. That her father’s money hadn’t swayed him.
Never had. Never would.
***
“You’ve got a rather dangerous client, don’t you, Ms. Sarantos?” Lex drawled as he watched the medical team take a cuffed Ethan Barclay down the hallway.
Sophie Sarantos whirled toward him, her hands on her hips. “An accident. My client slipped while in interrogation. Obviously because he was kept too long without food and water and I will make sure the judge hears—”
“Save it, Sophie,” Faith said as she followed the med team. “I was staring right through the mirror when your guy stood up and smashed the shit out of it.”
Sophie’s slightly pointed chin notched into the air and her dark hair—hair nearly a perfect black—slid over her shoulders. “I expect my client to receive the best medical care!” Sophie said as she began to hurry after Faith. “I expect—”
Lex stepped into her path. Her eyes—a shade of blue that shouldn’t be legal—narrowed on him. Wow…those blue eyes sure could ice fast. “A moment of your time…” he said. “That’s all I need.”
“I don’t have time to give. My client needs—”
“My name is Lex Jensen, and I work with Chance Valentine.”
“Good for you.” She started to slide around him.
He just stepped to the left, blocking her path. Lex smiled at her. Unfortunately, he’d been told that he didn’t have a particularly nice smile. “Gwen Hawthorne is our client.” He figured that was true enough.
“Again, good for you…” She stepped to the right.
So did he.
Her scent—strawberries—rose to tease his nose. He’d always enjoyed the taste of strawberries.
“Get out of my way,” Sophie ordered sharply.
“Your client said he was trying to protect Gwen. I’m curious…do you believe that line?”
“It’s not my job to believe my clients. My job is to provide them with the best defense possible.”
Wrong answer. Well, technically, it was the answer a lawyer was probably supposed to give, but Lex had hoped for more.
From her.
“Guilty or innocent, I guess that doesn’t matter,” he muttered.
She put her hands on his shoulders. The move totally caught him off-guard—as did the heat that seemed to streak through him at her touch. Then she leaned forward.
Was she going to kiss him? What the hell? Not that he was complaining.
She pushed up, well, as up as she could manage in those sexy shoes of hers and tried to peer over his shoulder.
She wasn’t tall enough to make that work. Not even close.
He put his hands on her shoulders and—lightly—pushed her right back down. “My sources tell me that you’ve known Ethan Barclay since the two of you were kids.”
“Good sources. Now just get—”
“Are the two of you lovers?”
“What? No!”
“Ever have been?”
Her eyes became slits of absolute fury. “Get your hands off me.”
He removed his hands.
“You don’t know me, Mr. Jensen. You know nothing about me. So don’t dare to question me about my personal life. I am not a woman that you want for an enemy.”
No, she wasn’t, but he also wasn’t backing down. “According to Ethan, someone has been stalking him for years. Hurting any woman that he really gets close to. But…then I take a step back and I look at things, and you know what I see?”
“Am I supposed to care?”
The woman had some serious fire. He liked it. “I see you…a constant in his life. A woman who has been there, time and again. Even if you aren’t lovers, I bet the guy cares about you.” Probably loves you. Even if that love wasn’t sexual. “So if someone out there really wanted to make sure that Ethan’s life was a living hell…wouldn’t that person go after you, too?”
Her chin notched higher. “Are you trying to scare me? Because I don’t scare easily.”
“No, I don’t imagine that you do…but it is curious, isn’t it?” He waited a beat. “Did you know his ex-fiancée? Jena? Did you—”
“Jena Parker was my best friend. And, no I don’t believe that Ethan was responsible for her death. They’d fought, yes, but only because she believed he’d cheated on her. He hadn’t.” Her words were clipped. “And there is nothing else I have to say to you…unless…” Now one black eyebrow arched. “Unless you’re going to tell me that Gwen Hawthorne is dropping the charges against my client? In that case, I’ll talk to you all night long.”