Authors: Chanta Rand
“
Your Honor,” he addressed the judge, “my client doesn’t have twenty-five hundred dollars.”
“We can put her on a payment plan or garnish her wages.”
“Um, she’s a student,” he lied.
Jeez, what am I doing? Lying in a court of law?
“She doesn’t have access to those kinds of funds.”
“Oh, well.” Barracuda steepled her fingers. “She’ll have to serve out her sentence in lockup then. Thirty days should do it.”
Destiny shrieked beside him. He shot her a warning glance. He didn’t need to get a charge for contempt of court.
“In fact,” Barracuda
consulted her paperwork again, “a few months in jail might do her good. As far as I can tell, she only has a temporary address on file. A local shelter. At least here she’ll get three
hots and a cot
.
“Judge,” he pled, “she deserves a chance. Give her community service or probation, if you have to. She’s smart. She has a bright future ahead of her.”
Her attempt at a smile came out as a grimace. “Your testimony moves me, Counselor. I’ll grant probation.”
“Thank you.” Cayson breathed a sigh of relief. Underneath those scales Barracuda had a heart after all.
“Under one condition. I’m remanding the defendant to your custody, Mr. Sullivan. For three months, you’ll assume responsibility for her.”
What the fu–?
“Your Honor, may I approach the bench?” Cayson didn’t wait for permission. Within seconds he stood before the raised platform
. He covered the microphone with his hand. To hell with the preamble. He got straight to the point. “Look Gracie, I realize you may still be pissed at me, but don’t let your feelings toward me cloud your ability to give my client justice.”
If hostility were a weapon, he’d be dead. Barracuda’s grey eyes flashed, but she kept the complacent smile in
place. “You think I’m harboring a grudge against you for fucking my brains out five years ago? For avoiding me for weeks and refusing to take my calls? For treating me as though I had a contagious disease? You flatter yourself, Counselor. You’re still as arrogant as ever, thinking the world revolves around you.”
He refused to participate
in an argument he’d never win. For years, he’d succeeded in avoiding Gracie’s courtroom. Her need for vengeance had not cooled in all that time. The only thing that had saved his ass from her spiteful bite was that the partners at JADE did not get along with her. “My client is a poor, defenseless woman who doesn’t deserve to be dragged into the middle of this.”
“
Do you accept the conditions of the probation or not?”
His nostrils flared as he expelled a deep breath. What the hell did this woman want from him? It wasn’t like he could go back in time and do things differently. And he was not groveling for her or any female. He was sick of dodging cases to escape her ire. At that moment, the case became less about Destiny Jackson and more about showing the Barracuda that he could take whatever
cruel and unusual penance she dished out. “Okay,” he blurted out. “I’ll do it.”
He strode back to the table, his hands balled into fists inside his pants pockets.
Barracuda’s voice was laced with victory. “Let the record reflect that Mr. Sullivan has agreed to take custody of Miss Jackson for ninety days.”
Destiny jumped as the loud smack of the gavel sounded. Cayson trie
d to ignore the shock on his client’s face. “Did she just say what I think she said?”
“Yep,” he confirmed with a confidence he didn’t feel. “
Your future is now in my hands, Miss Jackson.”
Chapter
2
Lawyer-man had a sweet ride. It was nothing less than what she expected from a cutthroat attorney with expensive shoes. Destiny stroked the peanut butter colored leather of the Porsche Boxter. This was exactly the kind of car she wanted, but knew she could never afford. Maybe someday she would have it. She just needed the right opportunity to prove herself.
A
s she sat in the passenger side, a gentle wave of heat flowed from the vents and warmed her feet. She wiggled her toes in her boots. It was mid-April in St. Louis. Temps were mild during the day, but dropped below forty degrees at night. She silently thanked Cayson Sullivan for keeping things nice and toasty inside the car. She watched as his hands adjusted the buttons on the dashboard panel. He had long fingers with neatly trimmed nails. And no visible wedding ring. He’d probably never done a hard day’s work in his life.
“I appreciate your help in there,” she told him. “I wish I had money to pay you.” The fear of being locked in a tiny cage gripped her heart like a vise.
“
Don’t worry about it. JADE pays my salary.”
She pulled
her coat tighter around her, and then waited for the sleek Porsche to stop at a traffic light a few blocks away from the courthouse. “You can let me out here,” she told him.
She knew this area.
She would make her way back to the shelter from here. Lately, she’d been crashing at Porter’s house, but she could already see that wasn’t going to work out. He’d started demanding privileges she wasn’t ready for him to have. Tonight, her only other option was the shelter. She wasn’t looking forward to spending another night in one of those claustrophobic rooms, but it was better than spending her time in jail.
“
No.” Cayson shook his head so violently a dark lock of hair fell onto his forehead. “You are my responsibility, remember?”
She laughed. “
Don’t tell me you believe all that shit the judge was saying?”
“
Yes, I do. I’ve seen her levy some outrageous punishments in her court. She’s very influential with powerful friends who have her back. I have a history with that woman, and trust me, she is not bullshitting.”
“
What kind of history?”
“
One that I don’t care to discuss.”
“
Y’all must have hit the sheets or somethin’.”
“
That’s none of your concern. All you need to know is that Judge Burroughs means business.”
“
Well, excuse me, Mr. Big Time Lawyer. If you’re all that, why didn’t the judge listen to what you had to say?”
“
Like I said, we have history. My neck is on the line. I said I’d keep watch over you and I am. So, like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”
She watched as he accelerated, put on his
blinker, and made a perfect right turn to merge onto the freeway. Something told her he had every intention of honoring the deal he’d made in court. Damn! She wouldn’t be able to shake him for ninety days. “So, where do you plan on taking me?” she demanded.
“
Um…To my house.” He said it like he hadn’t given it much thought.
She turned
in her seat and faced him fully. “Are you out of your damn mind?”
He glanced in
the rearview mirror before switching lanes. “Not the last time I checked.”
“
Look, I’m grateful to you for getting me out of a jam, but I don’t know you! I can’t stay at some strange dude’s house.”
He kept his eyes on the road, seemingly unperturbed by
her concerns. “I don’t know you either. But this is only for tonight until I can come up with a better plan. Would you rather take a chance on a respectable attorney or would you rather share a cell with a Big Bertha-type, who would appreciate some
fresh meat
?”
Crude
son-of-a-bitch! But he was right. She shivered thinking about having to defend herself from any type of unwanted advances. She’d spent most of her teenage years in foster-care. Thank God, no one had abused her; she knew other kids who hadn’t been so lucky. “What about La’Treece?” she probed.
“
Who?”
“
My friend. The woman who asked for your help?”
“
Oh yes.” His full lips flipped into a frown. “The one who looked like a streetwalker.” Destiny gasped, but he ignored her. “She is not my responsibility,” he reiterated. “You are. I can be held in contempt of court for disobeying a judge’s orders–no matter how crazy the judge happens to be.”
“
Well, I need to call La’Treece and let her know I’m okay. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have you for a lawyer.”
“
Yeah, remind me to thank her later.”
She threw him
the mean glare she used to ward off would-be predators at the shelter, but he was focused on driving, so he totally missed it. “If that’s supposed to be your attempt at sarcasm, it ain’t appreciated, Mr. Sullivan.”
He finally sighed and glanced her way. “
If we’re going to be staying together, we may as well be on a first name basis. You can call me Cayson.”
She crossed her arms stubbornly. “
I haven’t decided if I like you yet. For now, you can still call me, Miss Jackson.”
Twenty minutes later, Cayson pulled into a modest neighborhood with a thick canopy of trees lining the streets. His Cape Cod style house was large, but not over the top. In the dark, Destiny couldn’t tell what color the hardy board was. If she had to guess, it was probably white. “I expected you to be chillin’ in a mansion,” she told him.
“
Why?”
“‘Cause you’re
a lawyer.”
“Not all lawy
ers make gobs of money.”
She opened the passenger door, gritting her teeth against the biting wind. “But you do.
I can tell. You have nice shoes, a nice car. You seem to like the finer things in life. Why you livin’ here?”
He frowned as he removed his briefcase from the trunk. “
I happen to like this neighborhood. It’s safe and my parents live around the corner.”
“
Let me guess. A Mama’s boy?”
She could have sworn she saw his jaw clench before he inserted his key in the lock
to the front door. She smiled, happy to get under his skin for a minute. He was so calm and poised, like nothing ever ruffled his feathers. If he thought she was some charity case who was gonna be constantly thanking him for being her savior, he had another thing coming.
Her mouth dropped when she st
epped inside his house. She was right: He did like nice things. Her eyes flitted over the crystal chandelier hanging in the entryway. Polished, dark hardwood floors stretched as far as she could see. White leather furniture and glass tables accented with chrome looked far too pretty to be practical. African tribal masks and Native American paintings adorned the walls. Sculptures made of wood and bone were placed on custom-made shelves that extended from the walls. Near the bay window of the living room, a white baby grand piano dominated the room. Lawyer-man had it goin’ on! “You must travel a lot,” she guessed. She hadn’t seen none of this shit in St. Louis, not even at the finest boutiques.
“Yes. Whenever I can.”
Destiny sat at the piano and peered at a framed picture of an older couple embracing. The man was handsome with salt and pepper hair. The woman was smiling at him as if he were the only man in the world. Another picture contained a stunning black woman posed with an athletic-looking man who looked a hell of a lot like Cayson. “Who’s this?” she asked.
“
My parents. And my brother Mark and his wife Kendra.”
She picked up the frame, sur
prised by its heavy weight. “Kendra’s pretty.”
“Yes she is–ins
ide and out.” He plucked the picture out of her hand and placed it back on the piano top. “Let me show you to the guest rooms. You can choose where you want to sleep.”
S
he stood and followed him. It seemed Cayson had a hang-up about people touching his things. If he thought he’d hurt her feelings, he had another thing coming. She was tougher than she looked. “How many bedrooms does this house have?”
“Three.”
“Why you need all them rooms? Anybody else living here?”
“
You sure ask a lot of questions, Miss Jackson.”
“
That’s the only way to learn. You stop asking questions, you stop learning.”
He stood at the foot of the stairs quietly regarding her for a moment. His dark brown eyes looked her up and down.
“How old are you?”
She pursed her lips.
“Why? You plannin’ something freaky?”
He
laughed. “Just curious. Like you said, it’s the only way to learn.”
She
grinned. “Twenty-four. Young enough to party. Old enough to know when to stop.”
Cayson
eyed his new charge. It was the first time she’d smiled since they’d met. But to be fair, she could make the same claim of him. As she stood, bathed in the soft glow of the downstairs hall light, he took in her features. She certainly didn’t look like a criminal. Fake eyelashes. Tight jacket. Head full of cascading braids. Short skirt. Well, the skirt he didn’t mind so much. It showed off her shapely legs and flawless mahogany skin. Her pumps, though way too high, perfectly accentuated her calves. Even through her rough exterior, he could see that Destiny Jackson was a pretty woman.
The thought unnerved him
, and he abruptly turned and walked up the stairs. “Follow me, he barked.” What the hell was he thinking bringing a beautiful street urchin into his house? If only he hadn’t been so hell-bent on trying to beat Gracie at her own game. Well, he’d made his bed. Now, he had to deal with the consequences of his arrogance.
H
e led her down the hall to the two guest bedrooms. Both rooms had queen-sized beds. She wandered into the Asian-inspired room decorated in tan and black. Hand-made paintings of the orient added splashes of color to the walls. She took her shoes off and sank her toes into the plush rug near the bed. “Sweet!” she exclaimed.
He w
atched as she fell backwards across the bed, arms spread out, legs crossed. She made herself at home, stretched out on the bedspread. “I’ll take this room.”
He stared at the woman on the bed. Well, kid was more like it.
She’s only five years your junior. Like she said, young enough to party and old enough to…do other things. Imagine those legs wrapped around you.
He stuffed his hands in
to his pockets, hoping she wouldn’t notice the muscle between his legs stirring to life.
Shit! What kind of dog am I? I’m supposed to be w
atching over her, not getting a woody!
Destiny j
umped up, the muscles of her taut thighs flexing as she scooted to the bed’s edge. Cayson’s eyes were drawn to her firm flesh. He averted his gaze, but not in time for her to notice.
Her dark eyes narrowed. “
I need to call La’Treece,” she reminded him. “Where’s your phone?”
He
didn’t think it was wise to take her down the hall to his bedroom to use the phone. When he took women to his bed, they never wanted to leave. “There’s a phone in the study downstairs,” he told her. She brushed past him, and he followed her out of the room, watching the sway of her hips as she walked barefoot. Once again, he questioned the wisdom of what he was doing. He had to help Destiny Jackson find a place to live, quick. Lord knows there was no way he could watch the rise and fall of that tempting ass without getting a hard-on each time. He shook his head. It was going to be a long three months.