Page 14 of A Legal Affair
Daniela glanced up from her plate, met Kenneth’s watchful gaze and inwardly groaned. She knew it was only a matter of time before he’d be grilling her for information.
Her mother drew closer and brushed her palm over Daniela’s hair in a soothing, maternal gesture. “Don’t you worry about a thing, darling. You’ll do just fine in law school. I believe in you. Wealldo.”
“Thank you, Mom,” Daniela murmured, feeling like the biggest fraud that ever walked the face of the earth.
“You look a little tired, Mom,” Kenneth said, all gentle concern. “Maybe you should go lie down. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”
“Oh, I’m fine.” But even as Pamela spoke, a telltale yawn escaped. She giggled sheepishly, covering her mouth with her hand. “Goodness, maybe Iama bit peaked.”
“Of course you are,” Daniela said with a trace of censure. “You cooked a full-course meal three days after coming down with the flu.”
“I told you I’m healed,” Pamela reminded her, rising from the table as Kenneth came around to meet her. She reached up and patted the lean curve of his cheek. “Be sure to take home some food to Janie and the twins. I made enough to feed an army.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will. You know how much they enjoy your cooking. It’ll be a real treat for them. Now come on, let me tuck you into bed the way you used to tuck us in.”
Pamela laughed. “Oh, go on with you, boy!” But she happily linked her arm through his and allowed herself to be escorted from the kitchen.
When Kenneth returned a few minutes later, Daniela had cleared the table and was washing dishes. To preserve the Victorian charm of the small kitchen, she’d refrained from buying a dishwasher. So far, she’d never needed one since it was just her and her mother, and Pamela Roarke—a compulsive neat freak—rarely let two forks accumulate in the sink between meals.
“How’d things go with Thorne yesterday?” Kenneth asked, propping a hip against the center island and crossing his arms.
“Ahh, now we get down to therealreason for your visit.” Daniela smirked over her shoulder at him. “Let’s get something straight, big brother. I’m not gonna be calling you every hour on the hour to provide a detailed report of what I’m doing. If I’m gonna do this thing, you have to give me some breathing room.”
“No one’s asking you to call every hour,” Kenneth retorted. “But yesterday was the first day of classes, El. I would’ve at least expected you to call to let us know you’d established contact.”
“I established contact. There, are you satisfied?”
“Hardly. A few details would be nice.”
“Not much to tell,” Daniela said, rinsing off a plate and sticking it in the dish rack. “I arrived to class ten minutes late and got called out for it—so much for making a good first impression. The next time I ran into him wasn’t much better. I got caught in the rain today andliterallyran into him at the library.” She grimaced at the memory. “I looked like a drowned rat.”
When Kenneth said nothing, she glanced over her shoulder to find dark eyes critically assessing her from head to toe.
“Is that what you were wearing?” he asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
A slow, devious grin curved his mouth. “Wet t-shirt, tight jeans. Trust me, baby girl, thelastthing on Caleb Thorne’s mindwas rats, drowned or otherwise. What’re you wearing to class tomorrow?”
Daniela wanted to clobber him upside the head with one of the copper pots hanging above the island. She settled for a withering look. “Don’t eventhinkabout giving me tips on what to wear, Kenny, or I swear?—”
He laughed. “Relax, sweetheart. Your taste in clothes has come alongway from the high-water pants you used to call fashionable. I trust your judgment.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Kenneth paused a beat, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Of course, if you happen to have any leather miniskirts lying around?—”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m just saying?—”
She flipped him off with a sudsy finger.
He laughed.
She drained the soapy water and dried her hands before joining him at the island. Without meaning to, she found herself blurting out, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull this off.”
Kenneth frowned at her. “Why do you say that?”
