Page 21 of Legal Attraction
She sighed. “I can’t believe we didn’t think about cameras.” She looked at him with suspicion. “Or had you thought about them and just not cared?”
He shook his head. “Honestly, I wasn’t thinking at all.” Just feeling an overwhelming attraction to The World’s Most Beautiful Woman.
Her eyes remained intent as she studied his face, as if trying to determine if he was being honest.
“You’re the one who’s famous,” he said. “Don’t you assume there are always cameras on you?”
“I don’t know if I’m famous or infamous now,” she said. And it was clear that she blamed him for that. “But I should be getting used to cameras always being on me.”
There had been some paparazzi staked out in front of her building. But he suspected she was aware of that. It was probably why she was home on a Friday night. Of course, it was early yet. Maybe she intended to go out after dark.
“Yes, you should,” he said. “I think you’re going to have more than fifteen minutes of fame.” He had already discovered she was more than a gorgeous face and perfect body. She was smart and strong, too.
She shrugged off his assurance. “The next scandal will come along, and the media will forget all about me.”
He shook his head. “Not a chance.”
Still staring at him, she sighed. “Not if I keep hanging out with you,” she agreed.
“You think I’m going to embroil you in another scandal?” he asked.
“Just spending time with you is a scandal,” she said. “You’re the man who represented my ex in court, the man who destroyed me.”
He leaned back a little and was able to reach through the dining room archway into the living room. Her place was small, but she’d lost the penthouse in the divorce—thanks to him. He picked up the magazine he’d seen on an end table and held up the cover with her face emblazoned across it. “You don’t look destroyed.”
With all her recent success, she should be able to afford a bigger place than the one she’d lost.
“I’m resilient,” she said.
“Yes, you are.” He could relate. He’d survived a lot so far in his life. He could even survive this—whatever this thing was with her.
A dare. The guys had dared him to get her to withdraw the complaint. He could get her to do that. He emptied the wine bottle into her glass.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked.
“On one bottle of wine?” he asked, and lifting his own glass, added, “One that I’m sharing with you?”
“Maybe you think I’m a lightweight.”
Now he studied her face. She had that twinkle in her eyes again. “I bet you could drink me under the table.”
“We could have a contest,” she suggested.
“Now who’s trying to get who drunk?” he asked. He didn’t want to be drunk. He had enough trouble maintaining control around her when he was sober. He pushed his glass away from him.
And she made a clucking-chicken noise at him.
He laughed. The woman was one surprise after another, the biggest being that she kept letting him get close to her. Could she feel the same attraction for him that he felt for her?
“I am a little scared,” he admitted, and he wasn’t just teasing now. “Of you.”
She grinned. “You believe your own smear campaign? You really think I’m a man-eater?”
“Yes.”
“I am still hungry,” she said. But she’d already pushed her food aside. Now she shoved back her chair. Instead of standing up, though, she dropped to her knees and disappeared beneath the table.
Then he felt her hands on his thighs, her palms sliding up them to reach for his zipper. He pushed back his chair now. But he couldn’t quite stand, not with his legs beginning to shake slightly.
