Page 6 of Conner's Choice
“Before I tell you what’s happening, I need to know if you’re connected to my husband Kevin in any way.”
“Not personally, no. I’m aware of his reputation, and I’ve seen both of you at charity fundraisers, parties, and political events. I’ve never spoken to him, though. We don’t travel in the same social circles for the most part.”
Conner watched Elizabeth study him and wondered what she thought about him. Her posture relaxed.
She took a deep breath. “Do you owe him a favor, let’s say, for making a stupid mistake go away?”
Her question offended him, and he scowled at her, biting back the expletive on his tongue. “If you think I’m capable of being unethical, why are you here, Mrs. Warner?” His eyes narrowed. “What are you after exactly?”
Taken aback by his harsh tone, Elizabeth floundered. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”
He leaned forward, holding her captive with his intensity. “I think you do, Mrs. Warner.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m after one thing, Mr. O’Donnell. A divorce.”
Conner leaned back again in his leather chair but didn’t relax. He felt as tense as a tiger ready to pounce on its prey. “Is that right?”
“Why do I get the feeling you don’t believe me?”
“That’s because I don’t. I think your husband sent you here on a fishing expedition.”
Her gray eyes grew round. “To what end?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t…” Elizabeth’s voice trailed away. “Wait a minute. Is this about Ray Farmer? Kevin’s newest client? I know you were with Britain when she found Beth bleeding to death in the kitchen.”
Conner lifted an eyebrow. “You’re good, Mrs. Warner. I’ll give you credit for being clever. Drop the pretense. I know you’re not on a first-name basis with Britain Sherwood.”
“You’re wrong. She and I are friends from college.” Her eyes never left his as she rose to her feet, clutching her purse against her breasts outlined by her white silk blouse. “For the record, Mr. O’Donnell, I begged Kevin not to represent Ray Farmer. Terry and Tanya Parker were our friends. If you think I’m here to wrangle information from you, well, that’s just plain stupid. I’ll find another lawyer. Sorry for wasting your time.”
She intrigued him. Curious to learn how far Elizabeth Warner was willing to take this cat-and-mouse game she was playing, Conner ordered her, “Sit down, Mrs. Warner. Let’s talk.”
Their conversation lasted over two hours. By the end of the interview, and after speaking with William Hughes about the evidence Elizabeth gave him, Conner was convinced, albeit reluctantly, of his newest client’s veracity. He rose to his feet and reached down to help her from the chair she occupied. The soft scent of her soap filled his nostrils, teasing him.
Ignoring his reaction, Conner announced, “Congratulations, Mrs. Warner. You’ve got yourself a lawyer.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s late. What are you going to tell your husband when you get home?” He felt a glimmer of concern for her.
“Kevin told me not to wait up for him. And on the off chance he came home early from sleeping with Alexa, I’ll tell him I spent the evening in the ER. Believe me, Mr. O’Donnell, he won’t question me. Unless, of course, he caught me on camera in his study. Then there’s no telling how he’ll react.”
While she’d been speaking, Conner’s eyes focused on the alluring curves of Elizabeth’s mouth. To his dismay, a sharp bolt of lust shot through the lower region of his body. He hadn’t slept with anyone since his first and only time with Britain.
“We’ll discuss more about your case over dinner. I assume you’re hungry.” Conner opened the conference room door. The outer offices were empty.
“I don’t like your highhandedness, Mr. O’Donnell,” Elizabeth stated as she followed him.
“Get used to it, Mrs. Warner. Especially now that it’s my responsibility to keep you safe.”
“I never gave you that responsibility,” she argued.
“You became my responsibility the second you walked into my office,” he replied, taking her elbow and steering her toward an elevator.
And my problem. And possibly my undoing.
Elizabeth snatched her arm out of his grasp.
Outside in the parking lot, Conner asked, “Your car or mine?”
“Yours.”
