Wolf at Law by Heather Long (3 page)

BOOK: Wolf at Law by Heather Long
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He didn’t even know her name, but he would make sure they got home safe. Once he had an address, he’d learn everything else about them. Satisfied with the plan to hunt, the wolf kept a watchful eye out and Ryan did his best not stare. Not that he had to, since he’d already committed every feature to memory. Her eyes were the color of toffee—perfect and sweet—and the loneliness within them scored his soul. Someone had hurt her and recently. Keeping his position proved the hardest task he’d ever faced.

Because all he wanted to do was kill whatever had put the bruised look in her eyes.

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Tiffany Taglioni guided Alexis up the steps to their house, violently aware of the man who’d trailed them from the L. She’d seen him twice, though he’d tracked her path and moved across the street when she’d turned around to look at him. She fisted the mace in her purse. It wasn’t much of a defense when she had her little girl in tow, but it would still buy Alexis time to run.

Tired from their day of traveling from lawyer to lawyer looking for someone willing to tangle with her husband, she just wanted to go home, get Alexis to bed and lay down for a few hours. Maybe she’d be lucky. Maybe Giles would stay with one of his mistresses and leave her and Alexis alone. One thing Tiffany had learned—when she made no complaints, her husband seemed content to ignore her. His distraction would prevent any more incidences. Alexis was old enough to understand, to see the pain her father inflicted on her mother.

No child needed to see that.
Ever.

“Can I watch a movie, Mama?” Alexis yawned the words and rubbed at her eyes. The third time she’d done so since they’d stepped off the train.

“You need to brush your teeth and get your pajamas.” Tiffany told her, scanning the entryway and living room. No lights were on, no sounds from the television. So far, so good—no Giles. Her pulse beat too rapidly, but she flicked on the lights.

No evidence that Giles had been home was revealed by the illumination. The answering machine showed no messages waiting, either.

“I don’t wanna brush my teeth,” Alexis complained, but trudged toward the bathroom.

“Go brush your teeth and get in your pajamas,” Tiffany said, repeating the instructions. She put her purse down and made sure the door was locked before following in her daughter’s wake. Alexis’ clothes hit the floor on her way to the bathroom, and Tiffany scooped them up as she went.

“Can we watch a movie, Mama?”

“Maybe so, baby girl. Get ready for bed first.” Once Alexis was safely in the bathroom, Tiffany checked the rest of the house. She tried to keep her steps casual, hanging up jackets and generally straightening up. In every room, she turned on the lights until the whole apartment blazed.

No clothes left behind by Giles. No shoes out of place. No casually strewn papers. No discarded dishes in the kitchen. The bedroom was the last room to check, and she glanced down the hall toward the bathroom. The water was running, and Alexis hummed an off key tune to Aretha Franklin’s R.E.S.P.E.C.T.—a trick Tiffany had taught her. She had to brush her teeth for the length of the song.

It not only promoted good oral hygiene, it could buy Tiffany valuable minutes if Giles was in a mood. Opening the bedroom door, she braced herself for a flying fist and nearly wept when none came. The room was blissfully empty. Leaning against the door, she closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. Another night’s reprieve. She’d get Alexis settled and tucked into her bed.

Giles forbade her from ever letting Alexis sleep with them. It might get in his way if he came home and wanted sex. Even when Alexis had a fever, she wasn’t allowed to sleep in their bed. He’d dragged Tiffany out by her hair once to prove to her how wrong her decision had been. While he’d never raised a hand to their daughter, she couldn’t risk that he wouldn’t.

Not anymore.

Swiping her hands against her cheeks, she went to check her stash beneath the floorboard of the closet. She’d hidden away about three thousand dollars, tip money mostly, but a few dollars here or there. She’d been saving since Alexis had been born. At first, it had been a secret fund to do something for her daughter.

Now it was their escape hatch. If she could find an attorney—any attorney willing to tangle with Giles Taglioni and his insane family—she could escape and get Alexis to safety. Then they could build a life together.

A
real
life.

The shuffle of feet on the wooden floors warned her before Alexis stopped at the entryway to the bedroom. “Mama?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at the beautiful little girl with her braided pigtails. Sleepy, washed and in fresh pajamas, she was the most perfect sight in the world. All the fear in Tiffany’s soul bled away. It didn’t matter what she had to do, she would protect her daughter. “You want to watch a movie, baby?”

Alexis bobbed her head, but didn’t come into the room. Giles didn’t want their daughter in there and even the sweet little cherub understood the instructions. “Can we watch
Beauty and the Beast
?”

Not surprised by the choice, Tiffany rearranged the shoes on the floor so not one was out of place then climbed to her feet. “How about I make popcorn for our movie?”

Eyes widening, Alexis clapped her hands. “Can I get Petey?”

Petey the Pillow was the child’s version of a best friend. The fuzzy pillow had been a dollar store find and became Alexis’ favorite toy. “Go get him!” Ten minutes later, with a bag of microwave popcorn in their lap, they curled up together. By the time Beast saved Belle from the wolves, Alexis had gone sound to sleep. Stroking her daughter’s hair she continued staring at the movie.

She had a list of attorneys to try the next day. What would she do if they turned her down?

Blowing out a breath, Tiffany closed her eyes.
Keep trying, that’s what I do. I need a plan. Once we have a plan, I can get her safe.
 

 

 

The next day, after dropping Alexis off at her day school, she headed uptown to her first appointment. She spent four hours running into a brick wall after brick wall after brick wall. By the time she took a seat at a sidewalk café and ordered a sandwich and some coffee, it was everything she could do not to burst into tears. Refusing to give in to the anguish, she pulled out the wadded yellow pages from her purse.

Using a pen, she marked off the attorneys who’d turned her down that day. Two told her she didn’t have a case. The other two told her that, while she might have a case, the Taglioni fortune could pay for five attorneys to every one she might be able to find. The last attorney? He said he’d get her a divorce, but she’d never keep custody of her daughter.

No college education—hell, she didn’t even have a high school diploma. In the last month alone she’d seen more than fifty lawyers. The most polite let her know their case load wasn’t tenable while the rest did everything they could not to laugh her out of their offices. It was Chicago. Chicago belonged to the Taglionis, just like Tiffany did.

If she couldn’t hire a lawyer, maybe she could just run. Pack up Alexis, get on a bus, and not look back.

But to where?

The yellow pages were crumpled in a dozen places, so she tried to smooth them out and pick out who she would call next. The city had to have thousands of attorneys—at least one had to find merit in her case.

“You need a lawyer?” The deep, masculine voice startled her, and she jerked. Slapping the coffee cup, she was shocked when it was caught and then righted before even one drop landed on her. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The shadow draping across her was large, nearly as large as the fine cut man looming so close. He was strangely familiar, and her racing pulse hammered. Oxygen burned when she tried to take a deep breath, and the trembling in her hands doubled. Fisting them, she crumpled up her yellow pages and tried to find her voice.

Slowly and very deliberately, the man lowered himself until he squatted, his head on level with hers. He put a hand atop her trembling ones and the shaking that went through her had nothing to do with fear.

“You’re safe,” he said, and the force within the words made her believe him. He wore sunglasses, but she could almost see his eyes through the lenses. How the hell did she know this guy? An awareness of him swept over her like a wildfire leaving her tingling in the wake of it. One moment bled into another and her pulse calmed while he held her hands.

He was touching her. No sooner did that realization crystalize than he removed his hand put it on the table. His long, tapered fingers didn’t appear soft from office working, but his too expensive suit decried hard labor. The wind ruffled his hair and the rich notes of his cologne seemed to fill the air. She wanted to drown in the hot, masculine scent.

And that’s enough of that.
She squared her shoulders. The last thing she needed was to be tempted by some good looking guy at a coffee shop. “I’m fine.” Thank God her voice didn’t quaver or betray her further. “Do I know you?”

“No, but you’re going to know me. Ryan Huston.” He held out his hand to her and she found herself taking it in greeting before she thought too much of it. Warmth encased her fingers—warmth and strength. The quivering in her belly increased. Still holding her hand, he nodded to the chair opposite her. “May I join you?”

“Tiffany,” she answered then shook herself and pulled her hand away. His mouth tightened a fraction, but he released her without argument. “I don’t know why you’d want to join me.”

A smile kicked up the corners of his lips. “Because I’d like to buy you something more than that sad sandwich, and you seem to be looking for an attorney.”

Remembering the crumpled pages, she folded them and hid them away in her purse. She didn’t know this guy, and he might be working for Giles. It wouldn’t be the first time her husband pulled something like this. “Job hunting.” She lied and reached for her coffee.

“No, you’re not, but it’s okay. You don’t trust me yet.” Ryan’s response shocked her almost as much as the way he tugged the heavy metal chair around without once scraping the concrete. He sat the chair near hers then settled into it. The shop’s lone waitress hurried over to them. “Another coffee for the lady, and a nicer sandwich than this… Do you like roast beef?” The second question was directed at her.

“Um, yes…”

“So, she’ll have a hot roast beef sandwich and some chips. Do you have a preference?”

“Thank you—but you don’t have to.”

His steady gaze pinned her to the chair. “What kind do you like?”

“Salt and vinegar.”

He nodded to the waitress. “I’ll have a sandwich and coffee.”

The waitress all but fled to rush and fill his requested orders.

“Mr. Huston…”

“Ryan.” He smiled and the seductive invitation charmed and irritated her.

Enough was enough. She smacked her hand onto the table and met his gaze. She had to take the abuse from her husband, she would not take it from anyone else, no matter how attractively delivered or sweetly packaged. “Mr. Huston.”

He raised his brows. “Tiffany?”

“You’re very kind to offer to buy me food, even kinder to ask what I actually wanted before making the order, but I don’t know you—” When he opened his mouth, she raised her hand, and he snapped it shut. “I also don’t
want
to know you. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my previous coffee and head out.”

“I’d prefer you stay and eat,” he said, then leaned away from her slightly, settling into his chair. “I would apologize for inviting myself, but you look like someone who doesn’t ask for help easily.”

Saying nothing seemed her best option.

“You’re fierce and stubborn, both qualities I admire. So, let me give you a reason to stay if the coffee and food aren’t enough.” He slid his hand into his coat pocket, telegraphing every move and the slow deliberateness of the action soothed her. Drawing a card out, he slid it across the table and let it rest in front of her.

The crisp white paper held no artifice, merely a simple name and a number. She memorized the numbers without thinking about them too hard, not that she planned to call him.

“You need a lawyer, Tiffany.” Ryan was still talking. She focused on him, on the breaths between his words and the way his voice rolled around her, lulling her, enticing her to believe him. “I’m a lawyer. What can I do for you?”

Kiss me
. Shaking her head, she tried to clear away the highly inappropriate thought. “I don’t know you.”

“I know, and you have no reason to believe me, but I promise you—I will do everything I can to make what you want to have happen, happen. Tell me what you need.”

Oh, she wanted to believe him. If it were only her, she’d throw caution to the wind and leap. “I have a daughter,” she said, pushing away any reckless urges. “And like I said, I don’t know you.”

The waitress chose that moment to deliver the food, and Ryan tapped his plate. “Box mine up. I’ll let the lady eat in peace.” He handed over several bills before standing.

Was he seriously going to leave because she’d told him to? The last time anyone really listened to her had been never.
Not true. Giles listened, and look where I ended up?
Twisting her fingers together, she watched Ryan as he continued to study her. They waited in silence for the waitress to return with his sacked up food. “Keep the card,” Ryan said. “When you’re ready to trust me, call. I will come, no matter where you are.”

“Who are you?” The question escaped, riding a whisper, but he smiled gently.

“Someone who believes in you. Also, I’m a very good attorney. If I go into the fight, I will win it. For you.” The last two words seemed utterly unnecessary and yet they stoked her imagination, burrowing deep into her psyche. “Eat, Tiffany. Don’t be afraid anymore.”

Easy for him to say
. He stepped around the table and walked away. Just like that, no more arguments or pressing. The world seemed darker with his absence.
I’m losing my mind. Heroes don’t exist in the real world, nor do knights in shining armor.
 

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