Wrangling with the Laywer (15 page)

BOOK: Wrangling with the Laywer
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“The least you can do for what?” She knew she sounded ungracious, but she was certain she could hear the teasing voice of a woman in the background.

“After... everything you’ve done.”

The admission couldn’t have been more reluctant. She shifted her weight, passing the phone to her other ear. “Gabe, I’m going to a hotel. I appreciate the thought, I really do. But it’s not necessary.”

“Harper-”

She ignored the autocratic tone of his voice. “I’ll call you Monday and let you know how everything’s going. Enjoy your weekend.”

Veda looked mournful when she cut the connection. She smiled at him, unaccountably amused by his knowing smile.

“I’ll be fine. I’m sorry Mr
Stahl had you come all the way out here,” she told him sincerely. “He can be... infuriating.”

“He can.”

This time she did laugh. Jangling her keys, she sighed deeply. “Will you be okay getting back to the city? I feel awful you came all the way out here-”

“I will be fine.” He took her keys gently, opening the door and taking her bag at the same time. Placing it in the bag seat, he opened the driver’s door for her. “Please.”

She felt flustered by the attention. Thanking him, she tried to be as graceful as possible getting in, even though she was shivering by now in her skirt and pantyhose. She took the keys from him and closed the door with a little wave. He stood there on the other side, watching her as she turned the keys in the ignition. She was just wondering how long he would stay there when two things happened. First, the snow started coming down in thick, heavy flakes. Then, her car engine started up and almost simultaneously died. She looked down at the keys as if they were at fault, feeling only the tiniest stab of inconvenience. Turning them again, she heard a hoarse cough from the engine. A third turn provoked an even hoarser sound. The fourth simply led to a strange electronic clicking noise.

She felt Veda’s eyes on her. Trepidation flooded her veins. She turned the keys again, perturbed by the clicking noise. She stopped in case it was somehow damaging the car.

Veda tapped on the window and she lowered it. “Miss Green, if I may, it sounds like your car needs a service before the cold spell.”

“How can it be snowing like this in
November?” she asked asininely. She couldn’t think of anything else to say at this point.

Her phone rang. It was Gabe again.

“Don’t hang up on me like that,” he ordered evenly.

She resisted the urge to make an audible sound of frustration.

“It’s stupid of you to go to a hotel-”

“My car’s dead,” she interrupted before he could turn litigator on her. “I’m getting out as we speak and coming to yours.” She did so, unsurprised to see that Veda already had her case in hand. He opened the door to the town car and he felt a delicious burst of warmth coming from the interior.

“Good.” Gabe sounded mollified, even if the background noise was just as loud as before. “I have a few things to attend to but I’ll be home by around nine. Helga, my housekeeper, should still be there. She’ll make you some supper.”

“Where’s Alice?”
Harper closed the door to her car and activated the central locking system before smiling at Veda apologetically. She held the phone from her ear for a moment with an eye roll.

“She’s at home. She’s with the au pair.”

Harper got into the heated town car. “Then I’ll see you at nine.” She cut him off again, smiling to herself. She could feel his irritation through the ether. That would teach him for always getting his way.

Harper
had a leisurely supper with Alice and the others in the kitchen. Helga had originally set them up in the formal dining room, but Harper has insisted that they join the others in the kitchen, feeling like a benevolent aristocrat from some farcical Victorian drama. Helga was, as her name suggested, a stout woman from Bavaria who loved to cook hearty food. Frida was a stunning girl in her early twenties who Alice clearly adored, but Harper felt immediately wary of. She chose not to analyse why. With Veda added to the mix, it was a strange but interesting meal with plenty of silly laughter.

Harper
couldn’t believe the change in Alice. First of all, the girl was wearing a messy t-shirt and skirt that looked like it had seen better days. Still adorable, she was nonetheless happily mussed and talkative during the dinner. She discarded toys around the large kitchen table, interrupting easily when the mood took her. She was shy of Harper at first but warmed to her, and by the end of the meal she was sitting happily in her lap listening quietly to the adults talk. Harper, who was ridiculously missing Finn, was vaguely comforted by the girl’s familiar weight and warmth, and the childish scent of her hair against her cheek.

Helga left at seven to go home to her large family. Veda left to pick up Gabe around eight. By this time Frida had bathed Alice, and
Harper was left to her own devices as they retreated to the bedroom for stories. She had a lot to process. Firstly, the apartment... she stood in the centre of the den, her internal dialogue muted in fascination. There were wall-to-wall windows in every room, boasting stunning views of downtown New York and Central Park. The city was frosted with the continuing sparkle of falling snow. A balcony ran around the side of the exterior, a sheer glass wall. Dark wood flooring complimented natural, modern furnishings. Everything was clearly top of the range but it looked lived in. She caught a lopsided frown on her face in the shimmering glass as she considered this; it was exactly what she would have bought for herself and Finn had she not spent the money from her successful business trying to bring down a corporation.

Wandering out to the balcony, she was immediately struck by an overwhelming sense of vertigo. That, she decided, was one thing she would change: the glass balcony. She would never make it more than a foot out of the door if she lived here. She peered over the side at the still frenetic activity far down below on the streets of Manhattan, blowing through her lips to fight the dizziness. Trust Gabe to insist on a glass balcony; he probably stood out here naked every morning with his coffee, unperturbed by the thousand foot drop below him.

Her thoughts stilled. During the meal, Veda had revealed that both Helga and Frida were new employees as of this week. Hitherto Gabe had lived completely alone in this apartment. This intrigued Harper; she wondered how this new little family unit was resting within his comfort zone. Was he enjoying it, or feeling the strain on his sense of privacy? He had no choice, of course, but she was still intrigued. His reaction to all of this seemed incredibly important to understanding him as a person. There were massive gaps in her knowledge. She couldn’t make head nor tail of what was going on in his mind every time he looked at her. His loaded stare this afternoon before she’d received that call had shaken her, and she still had no idea what had caused it.

 

Gabe took the lift quickly, handing his tablet to Veda before he got in. “See you tomorrow,” he told his trusted driver, already staring up at the number panel. He hoped Alice was still awake, but that was unlikely since it was now half past ten.

He hoped
Harper was still awake.

The flat was silent when he entered the marble foyer. A light shone from the den, but otherwise there was no sign of life. Slipping off his jacket, Gabe made a beeline for Alice’s room. He crossed to the bed, comforted by the sight of her flushed face in deep sleep. He combed back her hair gently and kissed her forehead, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the rush of protective love. Somehow, in the space of a week, his daughter had gone from being a bright spot in his otherwise busy life to a beacon of meaning. He actually looked forward to getting home to see her. It was a new and strange feeling for him, and he liked it. He sat for a couple of minutes, just watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing and being reassured by it. Finally, he unfolded himself from the bed, tucking her in and leaving the door ajar. Then he turned towards the source of the light in the den. His senses sharpened and his attention changed shape.

Walking slowly, he laid his jacket down on the back of one of the sofas. On the other, he found Harper, her feet still clad in stockings and curled up under her legs. She was fast-asleep.

He paused, as if testing the air. Satisfaction warmed his ego
; she’d come after all. She looked good in his apartment. Approaching her slowly, he felt a familiar affection in his gaze as he looked down at her flushed, sleeping face. It was quickly surpassed by a sudden and unrestrained sense of longing. Her lips were lightly parted, her breathing deep and slow. She looked vulnerable and exposed. Her blouse was gaping at the neck and he caught a titillating glimpse of white, lacy underwear and the exquisitely soft curve of her breasts. He felt himself harden in a split second, the sensation unprecedented in its speed. His eyes travelled slowly down to the generous curve of her hip in the fitting skirt, which had ridden up marginally to reveal the silken smoothness of her slender thighs in stockings. His gaze darted back to her cleavage of its own accord, and his trousers strained against the determination of his arousal.

God, she was beautiful. Her skin looked like honeyed silk in the light from the one remaining lamp; he could feel in his mind how soft it would be against his courser hands. Her scent would be everywhere; he wanted to bury himself in it, breathe her in and taste every inch of her.

Breathing carefully, he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. This woman was going to be his undoing. What kind of desperate, sex-crazed fool had she reduced him too? Was this why Davidson was ruining himself and a billion dollar corporation?

He took himself to the kitchen with a kind of frenetic energy. Searching in the fridge, he took out a bottle of beer and twisted the top, discarding the metal lid in the bin thoughtlessly. Taking a long mouthful, he leaned against the counter and waited a few seconds for the alcohol to infiltrate his system. How could he have spent all night at an event for a fashion designer, surrounded by some of the most agreeably beautiful women in the world, and not even have felt even a twinge of what he felt right now? What was it about
Harper? He’d felt it the first time he met her, though perhaps not to this degree. Familiarity seemed to have honed it to a sharp and piercing need. Separation didn’t seem to help; he’d felt pathetically pleased to see her this morning. He was pathetically pleased to have her here in his home.

He leaned against the counter top, staring unseeing at the wall. He would have to tell her. He had no choice. It was no longer about the court case, or about this curious obsession with having sex with her. He actually needed her, physically. He hated
Joe Davidson. He was bored with all of his other cases, which seemed uninspired by comparison. He’d spent all night tonight at this event wishing he was back here with Alice, and part of him knew Harper was the only person who would understand that. He felt like he was going through a great number of changes and, for some reason, she was the only constant. He’d only known her for three weeks and yet his life seemed to have been turned upside down.

Was she responsible?

Taking himself out of temptation’s way, he wandered through to his bedroom. Standing by the windows looking out at the view, he realised he would have to wake her at some point to make sure she knew where to sleep. He felt a vague sense of inevitability about this. He trusted himself to do with right thing, the proper thing, in most situations. He wasn’t an insecure man. When he thought about waking Harper, however, there was only one conclusion and it wasn’t the right or the proper thing to do. He saw her in his bed, naked, and he was on top of her, possessing her with every thrust. Part of him wished he could simply walk away, but he couldn’t. Leaning his hand on the glass for support, he stared out at the view as if looking at it for the last time. He had the inexorable feeling that his life was never going to be the same again if he allowed this to happen.

The den was still quiet when he approached again. He knelt on his haunches in front of her.
Harper hadn’t moved. He only glanced briefly, unwillingly, at the delights under her blouse before touching her gently on the arm. She felt slight. “Harper... wake up.”

She roused, but only marginally.

Her movement simply improved the view. He gritted his teeth and processed the tightening in his body as objectively as he could. “Harper...”

“Gabe?” She opened her eyes, raising her hands above her head and stretching a little. “What time is it?”

“Nearly eleven.”

“You’re late.” She stilled. “Later, I mean. Than you expected to be.”

He smiled. “It was one of those... interminable events.”

“Yeah. I’ve been to a few of those.” Her smiled caused sharp indentations in her cheeks.

He watched her, partly excited and partly still at odds with his willpower as her lithe body straightened into a sitting position. It was unusual to see her so... unrestrained. The slide of fabric brushed against his senses.  “Come on. I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

“I’m so tired.” She rubbed her eyes. Her disturbed makeup created a smoky, sexy outline to her eyes. With her tousled hair and revealing blouse, she was too much to resist.

He held out his hand. He’d known she would take it. There was a silent exchange between them as she did so, her light body lifting effortlessly from the sofa. There was nothing professional or even remotely distant in the way she swayed in front of him. He knew then with absolute certainty where he was going to lead her. He turned purposely back towards his bedroom and walked slowly in that direction. He felt her still swaying slightly behind, drowsy and suggestible. Her hand was trusting in his. When he reached the room, he guided her inside, letting go of her hand to close the door.

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