White Collared Part One: Mercy (5 page)

“What?” Hannah shrugged with a devilish grin. “He likes to experiment. His girlfriend is a dud in the sack.”

“His girlfriend? You’re dating someone who’s got a girlfriend?”

Since meeting Hannah in first-year property class, they’d been study group partners and close friends, spending many Friday nights at the bar playing darts and drinking away the stresses of the week. Several of those evenings ended with Hannah going home with some random guy she’d met that evening. She had a frank openness about sexuality and made no apologies for it, which Kate admired. While she’d worried about Hannah’s safety, her friend had never regretted going home with any of the men. But Kate was concerned that dating a taken man would end in heartbreak for Hannah.

“Big deal.” Hannah’s smile tightened.

Kate clutched her friend’s hand. “It is a big deal. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Please. Sex is sex. It has nothing to do with emotions. We both know where we stand, and neither one of us has made any promises. I think he gets off on pulling one over his girlfriend.” Hannah removed her hand from Kate’s grip and pointed her index finger. “And I get off when he does this trick with his finger in my—”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

“Are you disappointed in me?”

Logan and David returned to the table with a pitcher of beer and a couple of giggling college-aged brunettes. The men scrambled to find a couple of extra chairs while Hannah and Kate continued their conversation.

“No. I mean, I don’t condone it, but you’re not the one in a committed relationship,” Kate said, trying to believe her own argument. “He’s the one cheating, and, frankly, if it wasn’t with you, I’m sure it would be someone else. No offense.”

“No offense taken. But to tell you the truth, he’s been loyal to her in the past. He says I’m too good to pass up. Does wonders for my self-esteem.”

Kate had always believed Hannah had excellent self-esteem. It was Kate who felt as if she didn’t belong in the white-collar world.

“Well, then I’m glad you’re happy. If something changes and you’re upset, you can always count on me to be there for you. I wouldn’t have gotten through law school without you by my side.”

A shadow fell on the table and a deep, familiar voice from behind her said, “Didn’t I tell you to go home?”

Chapter Six

K
ATE LOOKED OVER
her shoulder at her boss, who was still dressed in the same gorgeous black Armani suit and silver tie he’d been wearing an hour ago. She had assumed he would go home for the evening. What was he doing here?

“Nick.” She rose from her chair and faced her scowling boss. Shit. Kate had angered him by coming to the bar rather than going home like he’d ordered. “I thought I’d—”

He put up his hand to stop her from talking. “I don’t care what you thought. I made rules for you to follow, rules that I expect you to obey if you’re going to work as second chair on Jaxon’s case. Apparently, you can’t be trusted. Maybe Hannah would—”

“No, sir,” she said a bit too forcefully. “You can count on me. I’ll go home now.”

Their exchange had caught the attention of the other interns as well as the girls sitting at their table. While ultimately she was an adult and didn’t have to listen to her boss’s orders on how to care for herself off-hours, she didn’t want to disappoint him. He’d made it clear earlier he had her best intentions at heart. It didn’t mean she had to like it.

Nick examined her from head to toe and back up again. “Have you had anything to drink?”

“Just a couple of Sloe Gin Fizzes. Nothing—”

“I’ll drive you home and bring you back here in the morning.” Before she could protest, he added, “Say good-night to your friends.”

Kate stopped moving for a moment, biting her tongue and assessing the situation from all angles. She didn’t want to leave because she hadn’t finished catching up with Hannah or eaten dinner yet. But was it worth it to defy him, risking her internship, her career plan, over dinner and conversation?

Her mind made up, she snagged her purse. “Good-night,” she said to Hannah, giving her and the others a little wave as she accompanied Nick out of the bar.

The room had cleared out slightly since she had arrived, but they still had to squeeze their way through the mingling singles. Approaching the front door, Nick seized her hand and pulled her through the crowd.

As soon as they got outside, she couldn’t hold in her anger any longer and yanked her hand from his grip. “What is wrong with you? What makes you think you can storm into a bar like that after work hours and make demands of me in front of other interns?”

“I told you. I’m protecting you. Taking care of you since you’ve shown you’re unable to do it for yourself. Yes, I’m your boss, but . . .”

He took a single step closer, making her heart pound erratically. “But?”

“I’d hoped we could be friends, Kate.”

Friends. Of course. How naive to believe he had any romantic feelings toward her.

She cleared the tickle from her throat. “How did you know I was at the bar?”

“I followed you. I wanted to make sure you got home safely. Imagine my surprise when you stopped here.”

His admission shocked her. It had been several years since anyone cared about her well-being enough to check up on her. Sure, she had friends such as Hannah and Caden, but even Tom didn’t worry about her to the degree that he’d follow her home. Some mornings she’d left his apartment before sunrise, and he still didn’t bother to call her to make sure she made it home. But she wasn’t sure how she felt about Nick confronting her at the bar.

On the sidewalk, they strolled down the street and then cut behind the building to the parking lot. “I’ve been here for an hour and I didn’t see you.”

“I was watching from a nearby table.”

“That’s a bit . . . stalkerish.” She laughed, but the idea that she was oblivious to him watching alarmed her. And . . . aroused her.

“Does it scare you?” he asked, his fingers grazing hers.

“No,” she said, realizing it was true the moment it passed her lips. “But why were you watching?”

“I wanted to see you outside of the office. You’re always so stiff and reserved at work. Here you were much more relaxed. You smiled. I wanted to see that.”

“Oh.” She supposed it was true. If they became friends, maybe she’d get to see him less formal as well. “Speaking of work, David told me the media is already running with the whole BDSM angle of the murder. They’ve even revealed some of the details of how she died.”

He sighed. “I know. There must be a leak in the police department. We’ll have to find a couple of experts to present our position that just because someone is a sadist, it doesn’t mean he’s a murderer.”

“I don’t think people will believe that. Very few people understand that in BDSM sadists inflict pain on masochists who enjoy the pain. It’s easier to accept brainwashing and abuse.”

When they reached the parking lot, her stomach dropped as she spotted his Mercedes next to her motorcycle.

“You seem to know a lot more about BDSM than you let on,” he commented, remotely unlocking the vehicle.

“I’ve done some reading.” A bit uncomfortable with her boss knowing anything about her secret desires, she downplayed the amount she’d researched the alternative sexual lifestyle.

“There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about,” he said as they got to his car. “While I’m strictly vanilla, I wouldn’t judge anyone for what they enjoyed in the bedroom so long as it was consensual. Even if that person was you.”

Her cheeks burned. “I’m not . . . I mean . . . I haven’t. I’m vanilla too.”

He chuckled. “Nothing wrong with vanilla. After all, it’s the base for several other flavors.” With one hand on the car’s roof and the other on the handle, he said, “You know what? I’m suddenly having a craving for ice cream. Why don’t we stop on the way to your apartment and I’ll treat you to a scoop of vanilla?”

Ice cream sounded heavenly right now. “As long as it’s a double scoop of cookie dough, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He raised a brow in amusement, showing a glimpse of out-of-the-office Nick. “Negotiating with me, Counselor?”

“Always.”

“Do you need anything from your bike before we go?”

“Yes, I should take my briefcase,” she answered slowly, anticipating a lecture. She turned around and moved to her bike, which was parked right behind her, unlocked her saddlebag, and then swung the strap of her briefcase over her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you drive that thing in heels and a suit.”

That wasn’t the reaction she expected. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing. It just seems difficult to do. But you must see something wrong with it or you wouldn’t have tried to hide it from me by pretending that Ford Fusion belonged to you in the firm’s parking garage,” he pointed out.

“Some people judge,” she said, shrugging as she slid into the passenger seat of his car.

He started the ignition. “And you thought I would?”

“Yes—no—I don’t know.”

The car headed west toward her favorite ice cream shop. “There’s nothing wrong per se with riding a motorcycle, but I can’t say it doesn’t concern me. Not from a professional standpoint, but as your friend. Those things are dangerous.”

Once again, Nick had surprised her with his attitude. He wasn’t a powerful tyrant at all. Today she’d seen several sides to him, and she liked them all.

“I’ve ridden for eight years, and I’ve never been in an accident,” she said, smoothing the wrinkles of her skirt and then adding, “It’s nice though.”

“What is?”

Several of the day’s scenes played like a home video in her mind.

Jaxon ordering the detective to bring her a chair.

Jaxon protecting her from the press.

Nick worrying about her health.

Nick troubled by her mode of transportation.

But she simply said, “Having someone care about me.”

He wrenched the steering wheel, swerving the car, the tires squealing in protest.
Was there an animal in the road?
She braced her hand against the door to prevent herself from tipping, a rush of adrenaline kick-starting her pulse into overdrive.

The Mercedes came to a complete stop, propelling her weight forward and then jerking her back. Before she could ask what the hell had happened, Nick unbelted and pivoted toward her, his blue eyes like the color of the sky at twilight. “I do care.” He cupped her cheek with more tenderness than she’d ever known. “Too much.”

His mouth drifted closer and closer until
finally, finally
,
finally
his soft lips melted over hers.

She surrendered, intoxicated by his taste. On his passion.

How many years had she dreamed of this? Of him taking her under his wing and guiding her through the maze of her future, both professionally and personally?

His tongue barely grazed hers when, all too soon, he broke from their kiss, leaving her wanting, her nipples stinging, needing to be touched, and her pussy ripening, preparing for Nick’s invasion.

A whisper of a moan escaped her, and she flicked the tip of her tongue over her wet bottom lip, relishing the reminder of Nick on her flesh. Then as she leaned in for more, a name sprung into her consciousness, flooding her with a tumultuous river of shame.

Tom.

Nick stroked her neck with the pad of his fingers. “Damn it, I’m sorry. I’ve told myself time and time again I wouldn’t touch you, but the more I get to know you, the harder it is for me to resist.”

She folded her trembling hands together on her lap to keep from reaching for him. “I’m seeing someone.”

“Of course you are,” he said, dropping his hand. “I should have known someone as beautiful as you wouldn’t be available.” He clicked his seatbelt and shifted the car into drive. “Please, forgive me. If you want to report me to Human Resources, I won’t stop you.”

“I won’t,” she said quickly. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

He pulled away from the side of the road and merged into traffic as if nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, confusion clouded her. She pressed her fingers to her swollen lips, looking for proof that she hadn’t imagined the kiss. A kiss she’d wanted more than almost anything in this world.

In one day, she’d lusted over two inappropriate men and kissed one of them. What did that say about her feelings for Tom, the man she’d committed herself to more than two years ago?

And what would tomorrow bring?

Chapter Seven

Thirteen Days to Elections
. . .

H
OLDING TWO CUPS
of black coffee, Kate nudged her boss’s office door open with her knee. Phone glued to his ear, Nick stood with his back to her, facing the wall of windows overlooking the Detroit River.

Since it had been raining when he’d picked her up from her apartment at eight this morning, he’d bypassed the bar and drove her straight to work, claiming he’d return her to her bike at the end of the day. She had a feeling it was going to be a constant battle with him. Her bike gave her the freedom to come and go on her own terms, a luxury most people took for granted. Not her. But on a gloomy day like this one, she didn’t mind having a warm, dry car to transport her to work.

Dressed more casual than usual in navy slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he paced the length of the windows, stopping when he noticed Kate. His face was deep red, his eyes dark with rage. “Did you see the morning news?” he hissed into his cell. “Someone on your force is leaking details of the crime to the press.” He pointed at the chair.

She set the coffees on the desk and bent to take her iPad from her briefcase. As she settled into her seat, she caught him watching her with an intensity that singed her. He quickly looked away, his lips pursed in response to what he’d heard from the other end of the phone.

Her insides heated like she’d downed a double shot of vodka, warmth pooling in the pit of her belly and then spreading lower to a distracting area she’d rather not think about at work. Since last night, she’d replayed their kiss over and over. Gotten herself off countless times with her hands, her vibrator, and her fantasies—each more depraved than the last. In every one, she hadn’t allowed Tom or anything else to stop them from fucking all night long.