photographer just shook his head. âYou can stay,â he told Ronan. âBut donât distract me.â
âWhat about me?â Muriel asked.
âHeâs a good distraction for you,â Lawrence said.
Could he be? Could Ronan distract her enough that she would withdraw her complaint to the bar association?
He had to try, at least. That was why he was here. That and the fact that thoughts of her and that damn kiss had been keeping him awake.
He wanted more than a kiss.
* * *
He was not a good distraction for her. But as Muriel peered over Lawrenceâs shoulder at the computer monitor at the thumbnails of all the photos the photographer had taken, she couldnât deny that Ronan had certainly inspired her. This was by far the best shoot sheâd ever had and she had been modeling since she was fourteen years oldâmore than a decade.
âIf youâre not going to take that man out for a drink, I will,â Lawrence said. âHe got you to the money shots, baby!â He turned around and kissed her lips. âYou have never looked more gorgeous!â
Muriel chuckled at the photographerâs enthusiasm. âIâm sure heâs already gone.â
She couldnât imagine why he had showed up to begin with...unless he was after the same thing she was.
The truth...
He probably wanted to know how sheâd gotten her hands on the memos sheâd turned over to the bar association. At least he must have finally accepted that Bette hadnât given them to her. That was good. She never would have used them had she known the problems it would cause for her friend.
âIâm still here,â a deep voice murmured.
That was not good.
She glanced up to find his long, muscular body leaning against the doorjamb of Lawrenceâs office. He was wearing a suit; he must have come either straight from the office or from court. Who elseâs life was he ruining?
She was afraid it might be hers again if she dared to try her plan to seduce him into a confession. Could she take the chance?
âI can leave,â he offered, âif Iâm interrupting...â
âYou interrupted the shoot,â she said. âAnd you didnât offer to leave then.â Hours ago. He had stayed through changes in wardrobe, hair, makeup and backdrops.
Why had he stayed so long?
âHe improved the shoot,â Lawrence said. âYour best work ever...â He turned back to the computer monitor with all the frames and murmured, âMaybe mine, too.â
A little thrill chased through Muriel, but she worried it had less to do with the praise than with how Ronan was looking at her, with how heâd been looking at her the past couple of hours. With every wardrobe change, his eyes had gotten darker and his body even more tense. Despite the way he was leaning now, she could feel that tension; it fairly radiated from him.
So that she felt it, tooâcoiling low in her body, pulsing in her clit. She couldnât remember ever wanting a man more, which was crazy. She had been in love before and hadnât felt this powerful attraction. But this manâthis man she hatedâshe wanted more than any other.
Maybe she had lost her damn mind. That was the excuse she was going to use for what she was about to do. âSo, how about it?â she asked as she walked toward the doorway. âDo you want to go for a drink?â
His dark eyes narrowed as if he was as suspicious of her offer as she was of his showing up at the photo shoot. Now a little chill moved through Muriel, raising goose bumps on her skin despite her having changed into street clothes of jeans and a sweater. She hadnât felt a chill like this when heâd been staring at her, when sheâd been wearing nothing more than a bra and panties. Then she had felt hotter than hell. And it showed in those photos.
But wondering how heâd tracked her down unnerved her. How had he found her?
She hesitated as she neared the doorway where he stood. But then he stepped back into the hall. âI didnât come here just to watch,â he said. âThatâs not my thing...â
She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. Was it just that everything he said sounded like sexual innuendo or was he actually implying that there was something between her and Lawrence?
Of course, he had seen Lawrence kiss her. But Lawrence kissed everyone. Everyone.
âGood night,â she called back to the photographer. He barely glanced up from the computer monitor to wave.
As she walked down the hall of the old warehouse, she turned to Ronan and asked, âWhy did you come here? And how did you find me?â
âI have my sources,â he said.
And that chilled her blood even more. âI am well aware of that,â she said. âBut I canât believe they actually got it right this time.â
He stopped at the elevator and turned toward her, his dark eyes narrowed. âSo all those witnesses were lying and youâre the only one telling the truth?â
âYes,â she said. Her grandparents had raised her with valuesâone of which being that it was never okay to lie, not even little white ones. Too bad those witnesses hadnât been raised the same way she had.
âWhy would everyone else lie?â Ronan asked her.
âYou tell me,â she challenged him. âDid you pay them?â He must have. What else could they have had to gain, except for some time in the horrible spotlight that the scandal had shone on her?
He chuckled. But he didnât answer her question. He just turned and pressed the button for the elevator.
What would it take to get him to confess to somehow coercing those witnesses into lying? He was rich. So he didnât need money. He had probably used his own to pay them off since Arte hadnât had much money until heâd taken most of her savingsâand the apartment and carâin the divorce. He didnât even know how to drive.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open with a swoosh of noise and air. Muriel sucked in a breath at the thought of getting into another elevator with Ronan Hall.
He stepped back and waited for her to pass through the doors in front of him. âCome on,â he said. âAs long as you donât mess with the control panel this time, weâll be fine.â
She hesitated. âWe could take the stairs...â It would probably be saferâfor a few reasons.
âWeâre on the twelfth floor,â he reminded her. âDid you take the stairs up?â
