here now. You’re not alone.”
And with that, tears gathered in her eyes.
“Ah, Livvie.” The nickname came automatically to his lips. He watched—oddly helpless—as she swiped at the tears now trickling down her cheeks.
He had fast-roped from a helicopter into choppy seas, done HALO drops from 30,000 feet, and escaped the clutches of a warlord who’d put a price on his head and a target on his back, but he was as clueless as the next man as to how to handle a woman’s tears. Helpless wasn’t an emotion that sat well on his shoulders.
Being with Olivia had always been emotion-laden and fraught with unspoken feelings and unanswered questions. Those too-short weeks with her had been the best of his life. She’d filled him, and all of those dark places inside of him had grown a little smaller, a little brighter. He couldn’t forget that, didn’t want to forget it, even when he’d realized there was no hope for a future between them.
Though he’d fallen in love with Olivia, he knew he wasn’t the right man for her. The violence in his past made him unworthy of her. He’d walked away from her two years ago, certain it had been the right choice. The only choice. So why was he regretting it now?
* * *
After spending most of the night answering the police’s questions followed by a full day in court, Olivia returned to her office, slipped off her jacket and toed off her shoes, yawning heavily. She’d worn a lipstick-red suit, a favorite that gave her much-needed confidence. She had splurged on it last year, living on macaroni and cheese for the following month in order to afford it, and wore it on days like today when she needed a boost.
Feminine vanity had her wishing she didn’t look as exhausted as she felt, and she put a hand to her hair to push it back from her forehead. Out of habit, she sat behind her desk while Sal took one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of it.
“Why?” The question had taunted her all day. “Why did those men come after me? I don’t know anything.” The breath tumbled from her lips at the memory of the wicked-looking knife pressed to her cheek.
“Someone thinks you do,” Sal pointed out.
“Not helping.” She tried a smile, but it came out flat.
“Sorry. It’s likely you know more than you think you do. A couple years ago, you were Chantry’s right hand. I’m guessing that’s still true.”
“I suppose. But that doesn’t mean I know what those men were talking about.” A fresh shudder poured through her.
Across the desk, Sal reached for her hand, squeezed. She glanced at him, then away.
Two years ago, he’d overwhelmed her with the strength of his personality. She felt a frown take hold before she could stop it. That had been part of the problem, her fear that he would consume her, that her own sense of self would be eroded if she stayed within his orbit. Not even the most expensive of suits could help with that.
Had she done the right thing in calling Sal for help? She knew of his work for S&J Security/Protection, knew he would protect her with his own life, but could she afford what that protection involved? Inviting him back into her life spelled trouble, if not disaster.
He’d broken her heart when he walked away. If it happened again, she wasn’t sure she’d survive.
“This case you’re trying, is there anything about it to make someone threaten you?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. The pensive quality in his voice told her he was trying to make sense of the attack, just as she was. The knowledge that he was on her side warmed her.
“You mean aside from the millions of dollars it’s going to cost the company if we win?”
“Yeah. Besides that.”
Deep lines scoured Sal’s forehead. Despite that, he was more attractive than ever. His appeal came from something that went much deeper than superficial good looks to the very core of the man. The steadiness in his gaze, the acceptance of who and what he was, would always set him apart from other men. There’d been a time when her heart had raced when she looked at him.
His large body blocked much of the light given from the desk lamp, but even in that muted light, she could detect the near black of his irises. They were a compelling color. Just like the man himself.
“I’m looking for something more personal. Anything that would give someone a score to settle with you.”
“I’m the lawyer of record. Another member of the firm could have handled it, but I wanted it.” After twenty-one children had died as a result of the company substituting fake medicine for the real thing, the parents had retained Chantry & Hammond to represent them in the deaths. Her lips drew tight in silent fury at the thought that children had died due to greed.
Olivia pushed her chair back from the desk, stood and started to pace. “Parents are depending upon me to get justice for their children. I have no intention of letting them down.” Or herself.
“You care about the kids who died, their parents.” The quiet understanding in Sal’s voice was balm to her soul.
A few disgruntled colleagues, two in particular, had accused her of wanting a big payoff as her part of the settlement. Olivia hoped the settlement the parents received would be generous, but no amount could make up for the loss of a child. She planned on donating any fee she made to the families, many of whom were still paying off medical bills.
Tears leaked from her eyes over what the parents had endured. No parent should lose a child.
Sal rose, started to move toward her, then paused.
Olivia noticed an odd expression in his eyes and wondered what had caused it.
He didn’t give her the opportunity to puzzle over it. “What’s Chantry been working on lately?”
The abrupt change of subject startled her, causing her to stop midstride as she thought about it. “He’s been spending more and more time away from the office. He told me he’s practicing for when he retires.” A half smile touched her lips before slipping away. “I teased him that he wouldn’t know how to retire. He gave me this funny look and said I might be surprised.”
“Funny? How?”
She lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. Just different.”
Though Sal seemed disappointed that she couldn’t be more specific, he didn’t press the issue. “Okay. Let’s try another tack. Tell me about him. What he likes. What he doesn’t. Who he hangs out with.”
“You can’t believe Calvin has anything to do with this.” She couldn’t keep her irritation from showing. He didn’t know Calvin the way she did or he wouldn’t be asking questions like this.
Tension crackled.
“You said the men mentioned your boss,” Sal reminded her.
“So I did, but like I told you, Calvin would never have anything to do with men like that. He’s too—” she searched for the right word “—refined.” Her stomach rumbled, and she flattened a hand against it with an embarrassed laugh. “It’s been a long time since lunch.”
“Come
