Sawyer, Meryl (38 page)

"Brent's convinced you and I aren't involved. I don't want
him to be suspicious, do you?"

"No," he reluctantly conceded. "Did he ask about
me?"

She hesitated a fraction of a second; Mitch had cross-examined
enough witnesses to know when someone was withholding information.

"Brent thinks you might be the one framing me."

That shit! He was at it again. "What do you think?"

This time Royce didn't hesitate. She leveled those smoldering
green eyes on him. "I think you're the only person I can count on."

He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't. He'd relied on sex too long
already. He needed to communicate with her on an intellectual level. It was
hard as hell because he didn't have much experience at it. And he'd missed her
so damned much that he welcomed any excuse to take her into his arms.

"Why did you kiss him?" Jesus! Had he really asked that?

Though the question was spoken softly, it was deadly. She sensed
her answer would alter the course of their relationship. "If I didn't kiss
Brent, I thought he'd be suspicious about my relationship with you." She
hesitated and he knew she was again withholding something. "And I wanted
to find out if I felt the same way I did when I kissed you."

He stifled a gasp with the adroitness of a man accustomed to
concealing his deepest feelings. Sure as hell, she'd cold-cocked him with that
one. What was she trying to tell him? "Well, what happened?"

Now her expression was mischievous. "When you come home
tonight, I'll tell you." She adjusted the knot in his tie, then lightly
kissed his cheek. "And be ready to tell me the whole truth about you and
Brent Farenholt."

Royce sipped a glass of the Chardonnay that Mitch had brought home
for dinner and waited for him to explain about Brent. Was she going to have to
bring it up herself? Probably. So far he seemed content to make small talk
while they waited for dinner to cook. She smelled the osso bucco and hoped it
wasn't burning.

"Brent called just before you came home." Home? Had she
really said that? She'd done what Mitch had asked and moved her things into his
house. But living in his house, cooking him dinner implied a level of intimacy
that merely sleeping with him did not.

She wasn't quite comfortable with the idea. What would her father
have said? How would Wally feel if he found out? She'd reconciled her own
feelings, deciding there was little difference if she lived in Mitch's
apartment or in his house. Once they'd begun the affair there was no turning
back, and she didn't mind. The week Mitch had been angry with her had been
longer and lonelier than any other time in her life. With the trial looming
over her like a guillotine she needed Mitch's strength, his confidence.

Mitch's expression was dead serious. "You're positive Brent
doesn't know anything about us?"

"Positive, so don't be surprised if he calls—at all hours. He
often phones late at night, -assuming I'm alone."

"Be sure he doesn't suspect anything. The last thing you need
is to have Ingeblatt smear you again."

"It wouldn't do your career any good either." She knew
Mitch valued his reputation. He was a maverick in a lot of ways, an attorney
who often used unorthodox methods, but he went overboard to keep his image
pristine. Was he planning a political career? She couldn't help wondering.

"I don't trust Brent." Mitch put his glass down on the
black onyx coffee table with a bang. "I never have."

"Do you think he's behind this?"

"No. What possible motive could he have? Besides, I watched
him as they arrested you. The wimp was embarrassed as hell. Ward let him have
it." He hesitated, measuring her for a moment. "We agreed my past was
off-limits, remember?"

"I'm not asking about your childhood. I'm asking if something
happened with Brent that might have bearing on my situation."

"You have a right to know," he conceded, but he didn't
look thrilled about it. "Brent hated me from the moment he found out I was
getting better grades than he was. He never lost the opportunity to let me know
I was a hick and would never be part of his circle of friends. I didn't give a
damn. I'd been through too much to care what some rich prick thought of me. I
just wanted to get a good education.

"I met a girl who was a lot like me. Poor. Working to put
herself through school. I didn't mean to fall in love with Maria. My timing
couldn't have been worse—I couldn't even afford to buy her a Coke—but it
happened."

So he'd been in love. Royce experienced a twist of her heart that
she hesitated to label as jealousy, but she was stunned at how much his words
hurt. Even after all these years there was still a hint of fondness in his
voice, a softening of his expression that said Maria had meant a lot to him.

Perhaps she'd been the first person to love Mitch. Suddenly Royce
was glad Wally was investigating Mitch; she needed to know more about him.
Without learning about his past would she ever understand him?

"We planned to get married and live in Salinas near her
family. Maria's parents were Chicano farm workers, and she was determined to
join the California Rural Legal Assistance so she could help her people. I
loved her and trusted her completely. When she and Brent were assigned to the
same contracts class, I wasn't concerned."

Royce knew, without being told, exactly what happened. Maria had
fallen for Brent. His charm, his money, his sophistication, would be a powerful
aphrodisiac to a poor girl. All Mitch had to offer was his love.

"I didn't suspect a thing until Maria told me she had gone
home for the weekend and I found out she'd been with Brent. I confronted her
and she admitted she loved Brent."

Royce tried to imagine how hurt Mitch must have been. He was an
insular man; even now he wasn't close to many people. Maria had been his friend
and his lover. Since her arrest Royce had experienced a sense of loneliness
that almost reduced her to tears at times. Life was meant to be shared. When
you were isolated it was like living in an emotional straitjacket.

"Things got worse. Maria was pregnant. I knew the baby wasn't
mine. I'm always very careful, I'd never desert my child and let him live a
life of hell. A child needs his father. You can't always count on your
mother."

The conviction in his tone and his intense expression stunned her.
Obviously, Mitch's father had deserted him and something bad had happened with
his mother. She was even more anxious now to hear what Wally learned.

"Brent insisted it wasn't his baby—that it was mine."

"Wouldn't a blood test have proved—"

"Back then blood tests were expensive. I didn't have the
money. Naturally, Brent didn't volunteer to take a test. The dean called us
into his office. Ward Farenholt was there, reminding everyone how much the
Farenholts donated each year to the school. Of course, he insisted Maria was a
fortune hunter who'd do anything to force his son to marry her."

Royce easily imagined Ward intimidating everyone. How devastated
Maria must have been. Had Brent really cared for her, or had he pretended to in
order to get even with Mitch? Royce would have sworn she knew Brent, and that
he would never have done anything like this. But then, she wouldn't have
believed he'd desert her when she'd needed him the most.

She decided Brent was a weak man, a man who wanted to be liked, a
man who wanted to please a father who could never be pleased. But was Brent so
spiteful that he would deliberately have made a play for Maria? Probably not.
More likely, he'd fallen for her only to have his parents condemn him for
loving a woman whose social and racial background they felt was inferior to
theirs.

"I got lucky," Mitch continued, refilling his wine
glass. "One of the professors on the review committee volunteered to give
me the money for a paternity test. When Ward saw I couldn't be bullied into
marrying Maria, he agreed to give her a cash settlement rather than put
everyone through the public embarrassment of a test."

"How gallant of him," Royce said, but her thoughts were
on Maria. Had she regretted losing Mitch, or had she gone through this ordeal
still loving Brent? "Did you forgive Maria?"

He looked at her as if she'd just suggested Hitler was a saint.
"No way. Everyone gets one chance with me. That's it. If you keep
forgiving people, they never stop letting you down. Maria had her chance. She
chose Brent."

Royce heard a silent message in Mitch's response. She'd let him
down once with Brent. There would be no second chance. She had no illusions
about what would happen if he discovered Wally was investigating him.

"What happened to Maria?"

"She dropped out of law school. She's married and running a
day care facility for migrant workers. Her son looks just like Brent."

A tide of emotion rose in Royce. How sad, she thought. Maria had
found a man willing to share her dream, but hadn't been able to appreciate what
she had until she lost it. How disappointing for Mitch too. He'd found someone
to love after what must have been a hellish youth, but she'd been taken away
from him by a man who had so many people who loved him that he never understood
what a gift love is.

Had Brent ever truly loved a woman? Why should she care if he'd
ever really loved anyone? It was Mitch who was important to her. He had the
capacity to love with depth and passion.

"Ward had his revenge, though," Mitch said. "I'd
worked hard to graduate first in my class so I'd be hired by a top legal firm
in San Francisco. The best ones interviewed me and seemed enthusiastic, but I
didn't get a single offer. Later I found out Ward had pressured them not to
hire me."

"I'm not surprised. Ward is the most despicable, arrogant man
I've ever met. It's a wonder he even thinks Caroline is good enough for his
son."

"I can't help wondering if Ward's behind your troubles. You
interfered with the grand scheme he had for his son."

"True, he didn't approve of me, but would he resort to such
drastic action? If we could find Ward's mistress, she might answer a lot of
questions." Royce noted how deftly Mitch had steered the subject from his
personal life to her case. All this was old news to her. How many nights had
she lain awake speculating about the possibilities? Until they had proof,
that's all they were—possibilities.

"The night of the auction you implied you planned to get even
with me on the next interview," she asked wanting to draw Mitch out more.
"Just what were you planning?"

He set his glass aside and combed his fingers through her hair,
testing its weight, its softness. His gaze locked with hers, he lowered his
head and kissed her. The touch of his lips elicited reactions she'd come to
expect and anticipate: nipples contracting, a sensation of heat and fullness
between her thighs. She couldn't keep her arms from going around his neck, her
breasts from seeking the solid wall of his chest.

"I knew you couldn't really love that wuss or you wouldn't
let me kiss you and put my hand down the back of your dress. After the
interview I was going to kiss you again and make certain Brent found out."

"Revenge." She had the sickening feeling she was just a
pawn. "Retaliating for a lost love and thwarted career ambitions?"

"Hell, no. I had my revenge. I proved I'm a better lawyer by
building my own firm. I got over Maria." His tone was firm, final,
reflecting the determination she always sensed in Mitch. "I was prepared
to do anything to get you away from Brent."

She should have wondered if he'd resorted to framing her as Brent
suggested, but she remembered the night the narcs searched her house. He hadn't
been acting, he was as shocked as she was. Even if she hadn't seen his
expression, every instinct she possessed told her Mitch would never do anything
like this.

"Admit it. There's been something between us that's survived
five long years." His fingers scaled down the bare skin of her throat to
her shoulders and lingered at the crest of her bosom, hot and tantalizing.
"Ask yourself why you like me to get rough with you and force myself on
you. It gives you an excuse to make love to me."

She couldn't answer. Of course she'd asked herself why she felt so
physically attracted to a man she once hated. After that first kiss in the
dark, guilt and shame had overwhelmed her. Still, she'd let Mitch touch her
again. Even now she felt the heady sense of excitement that had swept through
her when he'd slid his hand down her back.

And when they'd finally made love, it was everything she
anticipated. No. It was better. Obviously, her body knew what her mind couldn't
quite accept: Mitch was perfect—for her.

Mitch studied the shadows flickering across the ceiling above his
bed. Jesus, he couldn't sleep. How many nights now? Five? Six? He'd be
worthless in court tomorrow, but he didn't give a damn. He knew exactly what
was keeping him awake. Royce.

He moved a little and she unconsciously snuggled against him, her
breasts nestled against his rib cage, her heart beating against his own. A
sliver of moonlight played across her face. She looked peaceful, happy, and he
should be too.