Page 22 of Legal Desire
She’d wondered what he’d thought about that. Now she did not care. “I want you to leave.”
And she trusted that he was too much of a gentleman to argue with her. He was.
He dressed, albeit slowly, almost as if he was doing a strip tease in reverse. She bit her lip to hold in a laugh and a sigh of desire.
She wanted him again. And that shouldn’t have been possible after all the orgasms he’d given her.
She stepped into her closet and found a robe.
He uttered a sigh of regret when she sashed it around her waist. “This proposition wasn’t just for tonight,” he told her. “I want more.”
She did, too. But she wasn’t about to admit that or he might stay.
“Will I need to convince you again?” And he leaned toward her as if he was going to kiss her again.
She pressed her palm against his chest, holding him back. His heart beat hard and fast beneath her hand. “Not tonight.”
If she was smart, she wouldn’t risk it again with Trevor Sinclair. Or she might be the one developing emotions for him.
That, she definitely could not risk.
Tuesday was the day the partners usually met to discuss practice business. But since Trev had called the meeting the day before, he’d figured he could skip this one. No business was more important than finding the mole.
And now that he’d determined who it was, he needed to find the evidence to prove it. How the hell had he lost his focus so much the night before?
He closed his eyes and an image flashed through his mind of Allison McCann with her hair curling around her shoulders, clad only in that thin silk gown. Then he stripped off that gown to see all that silky pale skin beneath...
He groaned.
“Hungover?” a deep voice asked.
He opened his eyes to Miguel’s concerned face and shook his head. “No.”
“I have my hangover cure, if you need it,” the receptionist offered.
Trev smiled. He’d only had the one sip of wine, but he did feel hungover, probably because he’d gotten drunk on Allison. She’d certainly been more intoxicating than alcohol had ever been to him.
“No, I’m fine,” he assured the former gang member. “Why are you here?” he asked. His pulse quickening with excitement, he asked, “Is someone here to see me?”
Allison.
Maybe she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her the past few hours. She should have let him stay in bed with her, should have let him make love to her until they were both completely satiated.
Because he wasn’t.
He wanted her again.
Still.
Always...
No. That thought sobered him. He’d never wanted anyone always. And he never would. He wasn’t the besotted fool that his partners had become.
He wasn’t ever going to fall in love because he knew that no one—not even someone you loved—could be counted on to stick around when you needed them. So he needed to make sure he never needed anyone.
“Simon sent me to get you for the meeting,” Miguel said. “He tried calling but you must have put your phone on do not disturb.”
He glanced down at his cell. He had put it on do not disturb because he’d wanted to focus on Allison. Not just on what they’d done the night before but on what he’d learned. He knew the deed to the penthouse was in her grandfather’s trust. So he’d been able to find out who her grandfather was. Patrick McCann.
