Consider yourself warned, Kate.
‘Well, at least you’ve got the uncle routine down pat,’ she said. ‘Judging by how you were with Maeve and Molly. Where did you learn that? Does Hugo have children?’
‘Yes, he does. One girl. One boy. Twins. A perfect set. My brother does all things to perfection.’
Kate caught the wryness—but before she could even wonder at it Scott had tugged her under his arm, leaned down for another that’s enough talking kiss.
‘I can’t wait to touch you,’ he said.
‘You are touching me,’ she said, all breathless—because that was what it did to her every time he kissed her.
‘I’m calling another Play Time next week, Kate.’
‘What do you want to do?’
‘Uh-uh. Secret. But you’re not keeping up. Come on—don’t you have a fantasy you want to try out? I’d love to indulge you.’
‘I do have something in mind for next week,’ Kate said, because since it was a damned sex contract, and she’d put that stupid clause in there herself, it would look strange if she didn’t have even one scenario in mind. But the truth was she could think of nothing she wanted more than just taking him into her body, holding him close.
‘Woo-hoo, I’ll be hanging out for that,’ Scott said. ‘But remember—no S&M, no B&D. I wasn’t kidding about that stuff. It creeps me out, the pain thing. I don’t enjoy it, and I sure as hell can’t see myself inflicting it on you. Oh—and while fruit and veg is acceptable, under certain circumstances, no wildlife, no livestock. I’m not that kinky.’
‘Wildlife?’ Kate spluttered out a laugh. ‘That is just disgusting. Is your black book annotated? Because maybe I’d better take a look at what you expect. I might have to rein you in.’
Scott grinned at her. ‘Just making sure we’re on the same page after seeing the way that guy in your boardroom was patting and kissing his little dog like it was his girlfriend.’
Another spluttered laugh. ‘Please! You’re going to give me nightmares. And Sugarplum isn’t a dog. She’s a shih tzu.’
‘The dog is called Sugarplum?’
‘Yep.’
‘Well, that is an abomination.’
Kate bit the inside of her cheek. ‘Actually, I have another name for her. Hostis humani generis.’
‘Is that a legal term?’
‘It is. It means “enemy of the human race”. Which I think is very apt in Sugarplum’s case.’
‘I’m going to have to kiss you for that. Because legal terms get me so damned hot! Can you say something with functus officio in it?’
She was laughing helplessly. ‘Not offhand, no.’
‘Then hostis humani generis it is.’
Kate was still laughing as Scott planted his mouth on hers…but not for long. By the time he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, she was tingly and dazed. And Scott seemed equally affected.
‘I love kissing you,’ he breathed against her lips.
‘People do tend to love doing things they’re particularly good at.’
‘You’re no slouch yourself—but even if you were, Kate, one look at your mouth is all I’d ever need to get me ready to dive inside you.’
She shivered. Closed her eyes briefly. He could turn her on too easily. So easily it was dangerous.
Change the subject.
‘Anyway, Sugarplum’s family is sorted. You won’t be seeing her around the office again.’
‘Who ended up getting the kids?’
‘Kids?’ Kate asked.
‘That couple. You know—the kids?’
‘Ah,’ Kate said, and winced.
‘Not kids?’
Another wince.
‘You’re not telling me that fight was about that evil little yapper, are you?’
She could see the horror—almost comical and yet not. The disbelief.
Kate shrugged.
‘So they don’t have kids?’ he asked.
‘I’m not saying that.’
‘So they do have kids, but the fight was over…’ Stop, stare. ‘You’re not serious?’ he said.
She raised her eyebrows.
He shook his head, stunned. ‘I hope they’re paying you a lot, because from where I’m standing your job sucks.’
‘Lately…yeah, it does suck.’
‘At least your family must be proud of you, though. Lawyers are like doctors—they’ve got the parental-pride market cornered.’
‘Actually, my mother would probably prefer an architect to a lawyer! She’s an artist, so creative stuff is more her speed.’
‘Your mother’s an artist?’ And then his eyes widened. ‘Oh! Ohh! Cleary! Madeline Cleary? Yes! Of course! The painting in your office and the one in your bedroom. Wow.’
‘Yes—wow. And my father is a playwright, but not as well known. What about your parents?’
‘Doctors times two. So…your mother… She’s not happy about you being a lawyer?’
‘She thinks I get too emotionally invested in my cases. Whenever I stress out, she says, “Kaaaaate, I warned you how it would be.” And then she adds something about thanking heaven for divorce—which is her way of telling me I’m doing the world a favour, and to just get on with the next uncoupling. It’s the Cleary way, you know—fight like hell, then move on.’
‘Now, you see, my mother would see divorce as an admission of failure. Which is why Knights don’t divorce. Failure is not an option.’
‘Even if the alternative is to stick with someone who’s horrible? Someone abusive? Divorce has got to be a better alternative.’
‘Then why do you stress out about it, Kate?’
Tve just…’ She paused, sighed. ‘I’ve had a run of nasty ones lately. And seeing people ripping each other apart, seeing the kids on the sidelines…’ Another pause. ‘It can make you cynical.’
‘Cynical. Now, that I understand.’
‘Which
