One Hot Weekend. Katherine Garbera
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Mitch needed a few minutes to himself to prepare to see Sophia again. Perhaps the years hadn’t been kind to her. With more than a little spite, he imagined her overweight and graying.
With that image firmly in mind, he started for the courtroom ready to meet his nemesis. The door opened as he approached it and a woman barreled out with her head down and ran straight into Mitch.
He steadied her and then looked down into eyes he’d never forgotten. They were wide and a deeper blue than the Pacific Ocean at sunset. He started to release her, then stopped.
Her hips were a remembered softness under his flexed fingers. She shifted in his embrace, then seemed to realize what she was doing and tried to push away. He kept her close.
She held herself stiffly in his arms and he liked knowing he’d thrown her off guard.
“Mitch,” she said.
Just his name, but the tone of her voice stroked over his skin like a velvet glove bringing each nerve to quivering attention. He realized suddenly that revenge did have a temperature and it had just gotten much hotter.
2
SOPHIA CLOSED HER EYES and for a minute was tempted to put her arms around Mitch. Dammit, she was over him. Way over him. She’d made her choice and she’d been happily living with it. Until now. Until she’d felt his strong arms around her once again. He wasn’t doing anything improper but she remembered every time he had.
Her stomach sank to her toes. She pumped up her internal background music. “Back in Black” was blaring inside her head louder than in a teenage metal-head’s room. She stepped away from him as soon as her feet were steady.
But not far enough. She doubted if Miami would be far enough to blunt the impact of seeing him in the flesh again. The Coronas had swirled to life memories of a different time and a different person. But she felt as though she’d successfully relegated that woman to the past until this moment.
Face-to-face with the one man she’d never really forgotten, she tried to blunt the sensations spreading throughout her body. As one of Mitch’s hands swept upward, lingering on that spot on the base of her neck, she realized he hadn’t forgotten her either.
AC/DC died an abrupt end inside her head.
Everything feminine in her sprang to attention and the sensual sounds of Stevie Ray Vaughan started playing in her mind. Her breasts felt full and heavy, her nipples tingled. His body heat shimmered between them. Damn, only an inch of space separated them. If she leaned forward she’d be pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
Each breath he took brushed across her face. He smelled of peppermint gum. The first time they’d kissed he’d been chewing peppermint. The taste had infused her mouth.
She recognized the signs of arousal in him. His pupils were dilated, his nostrils flared with his exhalation. While she appreciated the fact the awareness wasn’t all one-sided, they still had to try a case against each other. She had to be on her toes and functioning like the cool, calm Assistant D.A. she was. Not some hormone-driven woman.
When she’d been twenty-two and in the throes of her love affair with him she’d indulged her sensual side with no thought of the consequences. Now that she was in her thirties, she thought she’d banked those fires but everything about Mitch, from his dark hair to his cold gray eyes was stirring up the embers.
Shivering a little she stepped away. Mitch made her want to do something unpredictable like caress his face and kiss his full lips. Would he still taste the same? Taste him and find out, her traitorous body cried out.
But her mind had finally wakened and bellowed for her to get out of there. She’d been on her way to the bathroom for her pretrial ritual pep talk.
Focus on the job. Mitch was just like any other defense attorney, except he smelled better.
“Thanks for catching me,” she said, and walked toward the ladies’ bathroom. It was only twenty paces to the washroom. Counting the steps was part of her ritual.
She’d taken five of them when he moved. Her senses were still attuned to him. He was following her. Her first instinct was to walk faster and get away from him.
But she’d never been a coward. So instead she slowed her steps, letting her hips sway with each one. She knew he was watching her.
“Sophia?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. He’d noticed. His gaze was on her backside. She hid her smile. The girl still had it, she thought. She was glad to know she wasn’t alone in this ill-timed attraction. “Yes.”
“This isn’t finished.”
Immediately her internal victory turned to defeat. This was a new Mitch, a stranger with a familiar face. She wasn’t sure how to deal with him. “Is that a threat, Mitch?”
He closed the gap between them. He slid one hand down her back, cupping her butt and said, “Hell, no. That’s a promise, baby. And you know I always keep my promises.”
He turned toward the courtroom. She should let him go but she didn’t like him having the last word or touching her in that blatantly masculine way. She pivoted quickly, taking his hand and pulling him down the hall into a little alcove between the courtrooms.
He raised one eyebrow at her and she scowled at him. In her mind she fixed an image of herself as a sophisticated winning attorney. But it evaporated, leaving instead a picture of herself with an open bottle of Corona.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“That doesn’t sound like you. You always know what you want.”
“I learned not to share my desires with just anyone, baby.”
His words hurt. They were justified but still she hadn’t expected them to. “Would it help if I said I was sorry?”
“I don’t know, are you?”
She couldn’t answer him. She wanted to say yes. But she knew she wouldn’t be the woman she was today if she’d acted differently ten years ago. She regretted hurting him. But at the time she hadn’t seen any other way. Mitch had always made her feel things too intensely.
The false trail she’d sent him on had been designed to give her the upper hand and it had. Because Mitch had spent time researching her lead—giving her the real advantage in the tough race they’d both been running.
She did know that other than that one time she’d never lied to him. And she hadn’t lied since. Not even social white lies. She been burned by that incident, and moving on had left her a different woman. “I’m not sure.”
In his eyes she thought she saw a bit of the compassionate young man he’d once been. The man who’d always understood her drive to succeed and be the best. “I know.”
“Can we come to some kind of truce?” she said at last.
“No,”