Legal Heat

Chapter Eight


“I won’t consider settlement.” Steele thumped his briefcase on the coffee table in Seattle’s Four Seasons Hotel lounge and snapped open the clasps.

Mark leaned back in his dark leather chair and folded his arms. A group of tourists filed into the lobby, complaining about the rain in Seattle. They should visit Vancouver.

“We’re on the back foot in this case,” Mark said. “Saunders’s exemplary work record, together with the timing of the dismissal following right on the heels of her failed attempt at whistle-blowing, will do you in even if they can’t establish a solid connection.”

“I said no settlement.” Steele removed a bundle of files from his briefcase and handed them to Mark. “I thought after years of working with me, you would understand the politics of the pharmaceutical industry. We routinely ferret out each other’s spies and use the legal system to make an example of them as a deterrent to other competitors. Although we never caught her with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar, I know she was up to something that went beyond the whistle-blowing. Call it gut instinct. I want to see her squirm. I want the competitor who dared send her into my company to be unmasked.”

Mark sighed and flipped through the files. Steele’s hard-nosed attitude had just cost Hi-Tech a valuable settlement with an American pharmaceutical company this morning and landed Mark with yet another lucrative piece of litigation. He should be thanking Steele, but he knew, at some point, Steele’s intractable nature would be his downfall. And when Steele went down, Richards & Moretti would fall too.

“What are you saying?” Mark raised his voice to be heard above the excited chatter of the tourists. “You want to come down heavy on Saunders? David and Goliath? You’ll be slaughtered in the press.”

Steele laughed. “I have friends in the press. I have friends in the regulator’s office. I golf with most of the judges. I’m not worried about bad publicity, or adverse judgments. I am worried about unpredictable, secretly funded spies. I’ve read the memo you prepared on Saunders and the investigator’s report you obtained. Her sketchy background makes it clear she isn’t who she claims to be. What can we do to get the upper hand?”

Mark gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to complicate the legal proceedings and drag the case out for years in court, but he had a professional responsibility to give Steele the best advice he could. “We could counter-claim. I believe you said she took samples of the drug and gave them to the regulators. We could also claim for libel and for possible disruption to your business.”

Steele grinned. “That’s what I want to hear. Make it happen and do it quickly. I don’t want this case affecting our new product launch. I’ve got enough on my plate trying to contain the security breach.”

“What about the current state of affairs?” Mark was loath to mention Katy given Steele’s determination to bring her down to assuage his wounded pride, but he could not ignore his legal obligation. “Ms. Sinclair filed a motion for production of documents far exceeding the scope of the dismissal case. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has something up her sleeve.”

“Nor would I.” Steele narrowed his eyes. “She’s already sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong, but I’m taking care of it.”

Mark froze. “What does that mean?”

“It means, I asked you to deal with her and you refused, so I’m handling it myself.” He turned away and stared into the crowd of excited tourists.

Mark followed Steele’s gaze to a pretty young woman with big blue eyes, long chestnut hair and a very tight T-shirt. He stifled a growl. “You know you can’t speak to her directly about the case unless I’m present.”

“I don’t need to speak to her…now.” Steele leaned back and folded his hands behind his head. “But after she drops the case, all bets are off.”

Mark clenched his teeth. “Do you mind telling me how you know she’s going to drop the case?”

Steele looked at Mark, his piercing gaze missing nothing. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“If I tell you, I’ll put you in a compromising position and I don’t want to do that. I need you doing what you do best, and doing it for me.”

Sweat trickled down Mark’s back. He should have seen this coming. If he had agreed to investigate Katy, he would have been in control of the flow of information to Steele. But now Steele knew something he didn’t, and he couldn’t ignore the threat.

“You understand if you harm her in any way, I will be legally bound to disclose this conversation.” He tried to keep his voice steady.

Steele laughed. “I want to bend her, not break her.” His smile disappeared. “And I want her curious kitty nose out of my business.”

He nodded to the documents in Mark’s hand. “Speaking of business, I have another agreement for you to draft. Same as the last one. Same accident. Same circumstances. Last name of Cunningham.”

Mark frowned. “What kind of accident was it? The guy I saw is totally disfigured. The wife said it had to do with some chemical spill.”

“I told you before, it’s better if you don’t know all the details. Is that going to be a problem?”

“You’ve given me enough to satisfy my duty as an officer of the court but if you’re trying to involve me in something illegal…”

Steele snorted a laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”





“I’m starved. What’s for dinner?”

Steven sat down at the kitchen table and Katy sighed. Wednesday. Double-shift night. Every week Steven showed up for dinner between shifts with a few hours to kill. He claimed it was for the children, but it totally disrupted their weekly routine. Instead of doing their homework, the kids played video games with him, watched movies and ate popcorn. Then he sauntered out of the house, leaving her with the mess and meltdowns, overdue projects and tests. She hated Wednesdays but the kids always had fun, and if she couldn’t give them a two-parent family, at least she could ensure they had a solid relationship with their father.

“Isn’t this great? It’s like old times, and look how happy the kids are.”

Melissa and Justin grinned on cue and disappeared from the table to set up the Wii.

Steven leaned over and grabbed her hand. The overpowering sickly sweet scent of Drakkar Noir laced with antiseptic assaulted her nose and she stifled a sneeze.

“I miss you, Kate. I want you back. It would be the best thing for the kids. They need both their parents…together.” He squeezed her hand hard. Too hard. Katy winced and tried to pull away.

“Steven, let go.”

“You suffered as a child without a father,” he continued. “Don’t put your kids through that.” He punctuated his obviously rehearsed speech with a sad, unconvincing smile.

She tugged again. “You’re hurting me.”

His face flushed and his eyes glittered fever bright. He squeezed harder and her bones grated painfully over each other. Heart pounding, she stared at him in horror. What was wrong him? His callous, demeaning, manipulative behavior during their marriage had bordered on emotional abuse, but he had never once been physical.

She grabbed a dinner knife and held it above his hand. “Last time, Steven.”

With a soft sigh, he released his grip. Katy wrenched her hand away. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m willing to forgive you,” Steven said quietly. “For tearing the family apart.”

“Forgive me? We’re divorced for a reason. In fact, many reasons. Should I list all their names?”

Steven didn’t even flinch. She knew he felt no guilt about his affairs.

“Think about it, Kate. Try to put the happiness of your children before your own. You need a stable influence in your life. After I saw you in that trashy outfit, I realized you need me back. God knows what people thought, seeing you parading around like a—”

“Don’t you dare!” She shoved her chair back and forced herself to walk across the room, away from him. One more word and she would slap him, and not just once. “Did Sally leave too fast for you to find a replacement? Is that why you’re trying to get back together?”

He stood up and walked toward the living room, dismissing her with an absent wave of his hand. “We’ll talk later. I promised Justin another game of Wii bowling.”

Katy threw her napkin at his departing back and stifled her scream.

She tidied the kitchen then headed to her office for a moment of calm before the storm of hyperactive, overtired children descended on her. After the divorce, she had replaced Steven’s dark, oppressive furniture with a glass desk, cream leather chairs and open steel-framed bookshelves, transforming the dark, stuffy space into a light and airy oasis. A sanctuary of sorts.

She pulled out the Saunders file and found the list of names. Despite the threat, Martha had decided to continue with the case. Her boyfriend had encouraged her to forge ahead and leave the threats to him. What would it be like to have such a supportive partner?

Katy sighed and called the number for the third man on Martha’s list, Terry Silver. If Martha had the courage to keep going, she would be with her client every step of the way.

After setting up an appointment to see Silver the following week, Katy closed the file and buried her head in her hands. She couldn’t stop thinking about Mark. If she didn’t find a way to deal with her fierce attraction to him, she might as well kiss her career goodbye. She knew, without a doubt, one day, in the haze of lust that invariably descended on her the moment he drew near, she would go too far.

If she hadn’t already.





At exactly ten o’clock, Mark’s cell rang. He settled himself on the tired hotel bed. Well-worn springs creaked under his weight. He hadn’t expected her to call. Hoped, yes. Expected, no.

He grabbed the phone off the night table and double-checked the caller ID. Why had he even suggested this? He could have just called her office in the morning. But the combination of sexual allure and fierce intelligence turned him on like nothing else. Throw in those luscious curves, the wide, blue eyes and the long, silken hair and she was a recipe for disaster. A recipe he couldn’t wait to taste again.

The phone rang a second time.

His body tensed in delicious anticipation. Who was he kidding? The call had nothing to do with the case, and everything to do with hearing the exotic purr of her throaty voice.

He answered on the third ring.

“Mark?”

His body tensed at the low, sultry, breathless whisper on the other end of the phone.

“Katy.” He stared at the ceiling and breathed slow and deep. Slow and deep. God, that’s exactly how he wanted her.

“You said this might be a good time to talk about the case?”

“I’m afraid I have bad news.” Mark rushed his words wanting to get the professional part of the call out of the way. “I didn’t make any progress with your settlement proposal.” He couldn’t tell her the situation had gone from bad to worse, and in the next few days she would discover her client was on the other end of a vicious lawsuit.

“Ah, well. That’s a shame, but not entirely unexpected. I sent the proposal to your client so we could show the judge we made the effort. I guess I’ll see you in court then for the disclosure hearing.”

A tiny fissure of fear opened in his chest. He had expected her to be more…disappointed. At least as disappointed as he had been. The settlement would have been an easy way to resolve the potential conflict.

Scrambling for a hook to keep her on the line, he said, “About your disclosure application…you know I won’t let you get away with such a blatant fishing expedition.”

“How are you going to stop me?” He caught a hint of laughter in her voice.

“Maybe I’ll throw something unexpected your way—tie you up so you can’t attend the hearing.”

“Tie me up?”

Mark closed his eyes as images of Katy, bound and spread out before him like a banquet, flickered through his mind. He imagined licking his way down her body, feasting on the soft bounty of her breasts, sucking her cherry nipples and tasting the nectar between her thighs.

“God, yes,” he rasped.

His shaft rose painfully against his zipper. Damn. He was already losing it. He had better control than this. He took a deep breath and stared at the bland, two-toned painting on the wall in front of him. Typical hotel décor. Mind numbing. Just what he needed.

“How would you tie me up?” Her throaty voice made his balls tighten in an instant.

“Emergency injunction? Surprise witness? Last minute amendment?”

“Rope,” he blurted out. “Silk is best.”

Her gasp, soft and low, sent his arousal soaring. He tensed his body to stave off the urge to rip open his jeans and deal with his burning need for release.

“How would I get to court if I was…tied up?”

“I’d leave you some wiggle room.”

“Mmm. What would you be doing while I was wiggling? Grab the opportunity to…handle things…on your own?”

A smile curled his lips when he realized she was playing the game. God, he wanted this woman. Badly. If he hadn’t been in Seattle, he would have been hard pressed to stop himself from seeking her out. Ropes in hand.

“I’d stay and watch you wiggle.”

“And if I escaped?” Her voice dropped to a low, sultry purr.

“You’d be a very sorry girl,” he growled. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. They were right on the line they shouldn’t cross, but it was a just a phone call, nothing more.

“The way you say it…”she breathed, “…makes me want to be sorry.”

He wanted to be sorry too. Sorry he had started this. Sorry he had no control when it came to her. But he wasn’t. Not a bit.

Dropping the phone, he buried his face in his hands and dragged his fingers over his coarse stubble seeking a familiar sensation to distract himself. He’d had dozens of one-night stands over the years. Detachment had never been a problem for him. Until now. Katy got to him on a level he didn’t understand. He undid his belt and shoved his jeans down over his hips before picking up the phone.

“So I guess after that we would go to court,” Katy said softly.

“Court?” Mark tore himself out of his self-reflection and tried to catch up with the game.

Katy giggled. “I’d have lost all restraint by then.”

Restraint. Probably a good idea.

A shiver raced up the length of his spine. “I would like to see you totally unrestrained, sugar.”

“If I turned on my webcam, you would.” Her throaty whisper held a teasing note.

“Turn it on.” His shaft ached and every nerve ending sizzled with need. He shoved the wretched, restricting underwear down to his knees and grabbed his erection as it sprang free of its prison. Big mistake. He clenched his teeth and challenged himself to make it through the call without getting off.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “But talking like this…it makes me hot.”

Mark let his head fall back against the wall with a thud. Damn it. He grasped his cock firmly and began to stroke. “Talk to me, sugar. If you won’t let me see you, then you’ll have to paint me a picture. Tell me what you’re wearing.”

Her sharp intake of breath kicked his arousal up another notch.

“We’re pushing the limits, Mark. Maybe we should—”

“No.” He cut her off with a bark that betrayed his need. “It’s just a phone call and I have a passing interest in your…sartorial choices, particularly if they involve lingerie or garter belts.”

Soft laughter. A rustle. Footsteps. The slide of a drawer opening. A soft thud. Squeaking springs. Panting.

Anticipation ratcheted through him and his fingers curled tight around the phone.

“Red,” she whispered. He heard more rustling. The snap of elastic. The hiss of nylon.

He froze. His entire being focused on the sensual sounds filling his ear.

“Silk slip. Lacey garter belt. Suspenders. Thigh highs. Panties and—”

“Stop.” Mark hissed out a breath. “It’s probably better if you don’t say anything else. As you said, there is a line we don’t want to cross.”

Her soft whimper of disappointment gave him an idea—a way to keep them technically on the right side of that line.

“I’m going to say a few things, sugar. You don’t have to answer me. In fact, it’s better if you don’t. I’ll just be musing to myself while you’re on the phone, but if you feel the need to interrupt me with those sexy little sighs and whimpers, I won’t complain.”

“Mark, I—”

He chuckled. “Ah ah ah. You’re not supposed to say anything. But I’m thinking about you. I imagine you’re lying on your bed in your sexy outfit but it’s too hot in your bedroom. Your slip is clinging to your body. You want it off so you slide your hands up and over the silk to your breasts. They’re tender, swollen. You cup them, squeeze them gently, relieve the ache. And then you can’t resist. You circle your thumbs around your nipples until they peak under the silk. So hot. So hard.”

Katy moaned.

“Good girl.” He cut himself off and fought for control. His hand tightened around his cock and he stroked once, twice, enough take off the edge, but not enough to send him over.

“If you were going to imagine me, you would probably imagine I ditched my shirt before we even started this call and when we started talking about ropes, I had to ditch everything else. And I’m hard. So goddamn hard for you.”

She sucked in a sharp breath and then murmured her approval.

Mark smiled. “I imagine you’ve got the slip off, but now your panties are wet, too wet. You slide your hands down those luscious curves and unhook the garter straps one by one, then slide off the stockings.”

He heard the soft snap of elastic. Once, twice, three times and then four. His cock thickened and he pumped slowly into his hand.

Katy groaned and he heard the faint hiss of her stockings sliding down her legs.

“Now the panties, sugar. Slip your fingers into the elastic and ease them over your hips.”

The squeak of springs. A soft whine. He increased the pressure around his cock and began to stroke faster. At this rate, he wasn’t going to last very long.

“Are you wet and ready for me, sugar?” His voice caught in his throat and he increased his rhythm. “I am so ready for you.”

“God, yes,” Katy moaned.

“I’m here for you,” he murmured. “Let your hand slide down over your mound to cup your hot little p-ssy. That’s it, sugar. Spread your wetness up and around your *. But don’t touch. Just a tease. A taste. And back down to your folds. Around again. Move your other hand to tweak your nipples, one at a time, rolling them between your thumb and forefinger until they’re hard, as hard as my cock.”

Her rapid, panting breaths fired his need. He was rough with himself now, quickening his strokes as his hips jerked, desperate to find release. He forced his words through gritted teeth. “I’m stroking myself like there’s no tomorrow, sugar. I’m rock hard and ready to come for you.”

Katy groaned, a low, guttural, sensual sound that took him right to the edge.

“You’re close, aren’t you? Slide one finger inside your p-ssy. So hot and wet. In and out and then add a second finger. Fill yourself like I would fill you if I was there.”

Her soft, strangled cry took his breath away. He squeezed his eyes shut and pictured her touching herself on her bed, her eyes half-lidded, lips plump and wet. “Lift your hips and ride those fingers. You want to come for me, sugar?”

“Now,” she breathed.

F*ck. Red sheeted his vision. Every muscle in his body tensed. He had never needed release as badly as he did this very moment. He tightened his hand in a vicious grip and thrust hard into his palm.

Katy’s voice rose to a thin whine. “Maaark.”

“Now, sugar. Flick your thumb over your * and come with me.” He grabbed his underwear and slid the soft cotton over this throbbing shaft.

“Oh, oh, oh. I…” Her muffled scream sent him over the edge. His body went rigid and pressure exploded from the base of his spine, jetting out his cock in wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure. He groaned; the sound drowning out the last sweet sighs of her release.

For a long while he heard nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing.

“Oh God.” The regret in Katy’s voice sent a chill through his veins.

“Don’t worry.” He tried to keep his voice calm and relaxed although he felt anything but. “It’s just a phone call—a bit of fun. Nothing serious enough to raise any professional concerns.” Mark clenched his teeth as soon as the lie left his lips. But maybe it was better this way. He couldn’t hold back around her, but if he pushed her away, it wouldn’t be an issue.

Who was he kidding?

Still, her silence rocked him to the core. “Sugar?”

“Sure,” she mumbled. “Just a bit of fun. We wouldn’t want anything more than that.”