Legal Desire. Lisa Childs
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“Good,” he said.
She blinked, trying to focus on what he was saying. It was hard to focus with him standing so close. He had moved quickly from the door to the table and she hadn’t had a chance to step back. Not that she would have. Allison never backed down. “What?”
“I’m glad you’re not hungry,” he said, “because now we can get right to it.”
She blinked again because it didn’t make sense. Get right to what? Sex?
No. She didn’t want that. Not with him.
All she wanted was another assignment, and that had to be the reason he’d requested this meeting. That had to be the reason the other partners had left.
“You took on a new case?” she asked, and excitement surged through her again.
It was much safer for Allison to focus on business. And she actually enjoyed business with Trevor Sinclair. His cases involved taking down big companies, making them pay for any harm they might have done the public or the environment. Helping him made up for the other Street Legal cases, like Ronan Hall’s messy divorce ones or Stone Michaelsen’s criminal ones.
But he shook his head. “Nope. I’m not taking on any new cases right now.”
She felt a pang of disappointment, which was followed quickly with curiosity. “Then why did you want to meet with me?” she asked.
Alone?
He stared down at her for a long moment, his deep green eyes intense. She could feel the heat of his muscular body. An answering wave of heat rushed through her as her pulse quickened. Maybe she should have stayed in the chair Simon Kramer had pulled out for her because then Trevor might have sat down, as well. Then he wouldn’t be so close.
“I wanted you to come here,” he said, and his deep voice sounded even deeper than usual, “because I have a proposition for you.”
A proposition? That had nothing to do with a case?
If it wasn’t business, didn’t it have to be pleasure?
She sucked in a shaky breath.
And he flashed one of those wide, wicked grins of his, and his green eyes sparkled with amusement and something else.
Desire?
No.
Maybe she was still sleeping. Maybe she was dreaming—that Trevor Sinclair was propositioning her...
Her mouth fell open, her lips—which were nearly as red as her hair—parted on a gasp. Her pale skin finally flushed with color while her pale eyes also darkened as her pupils dilated.
He had her. He’d caught the notorious ice queen off guard with his remark. She wasn’t so cool now. He had flustered the usually unflappable publicist. He laughed. “Not that kind of proposition, Allison.”
She shook her head, tumbling the red waves of her hair around her slender shoulders. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Trev was standing close to her, so close that he knew everybody who had called her the ice queen, himself included, was wrong. He felt the heat of her body even though he hadn’t touched her. He really wanted to touch her. Hell, he really wanted her.
So he turned and slid onto the table right next to where she stood, and his knee bumped against her thigh. She stepped back, though.
She obviously did not want him touching her.
He chuckled again at her reaction. “You thought I was propositioning you for sex.”
“Of course I didn’t think that,” she haughtily replied, her pointy little chin lifting in disdain.
“What if I was?” he wondered.
All restless energy, he stood up again, and he was close enough that his suddenly very tense body brushed against hers. How could he want her even knowing that she was the mole? How the hell could he feel any desire for her let alone so much that it had tension winding tightly inside him?
Of course, even though she was the mole, she was stunning. Maybe trying to seduce the truth out of her wasn’t the bad idea he’d thought it was when Simon had tried it with Bette, and Ronan with Muriel.
“Would you be interested?” he asked.
She blinked as if trying to clear her vision before staring up at him. “Would I be interested?” she repeated. “In sex with you?”
And he almost thought she was considering it—until she laughed. That laugh—clear and sharp—cut his pride like a knife.
“Why is that so damn funny?” he asked.
“Because you’re joking,” she said purposefully.
Trev was suddenly very serious—so serious that he leaned a little closer to her. Their bodies brushed again. Her breasts touched his torso, just below his chest. He felt the mad pounding of her heart and the heat of her body again. She definitely was not an ice queen. He wasn’t getting frostbite at all. He was getting hot.
Damn hot for the unscrupulous little publicist.
So hot that he couldn’t resist his impulse to reach out. He slid his arm around her slim waist, and she moved her body more fully against his, clearly wanting him back. Then he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.
Her lips were like silk, so smooth and soft. He nipped and nibbled at them, devouring her as that desire consumed him. He wanted her lips to part, so he could deepen the kiss, so he could slide his tongue inside her mouth.
But he wanted more than that inside her. He wanted to bury his throbbing cock inside her, too. He’d never been so turned on before by just a kiss.
But she wasn’t just kissing him...
His scalp tingled as he felt her hands in his hair, sliding through it, clutching his head to hers. Then, finally, she parted her lips, deepening the kiss.
And he knew her image was just that: Allison McCann was no ice queen. She was all fire and passion.
He tasted so damn good, just like she’d thought he would, like coffee and sugar. His tongue slid between her lips, stroking over hers. She would probably taste like the mint she’d swallowed when he’d jerked her into his arms. While one of his arms was wound around her waist, the other was around her back, as his hand cupped the back of her head, holding it against his as he kissed her.
And her fingers were in his hair, tangled in the thick strands of it. She wanted to slide her fingers down his face, over his muscular chest to the buckle of his belt.
She wanted to undress him. Wanted him to undress her...
She wanted more than a kiss. She wanted him to release the tension he’d built inside her. She wanted his tongue other places than her mouth.
She