After several moments, he said, “Your pictures don’t do you justice.” His tone was suggestive.

  “What?” she asked surprised. “Pictures? You know who I am?”

  The amusement in his eyes seemed to brighten. “Do you think I could work for your father for five years and not know about his amazing Lindsey Paxton?”

  Lindsey’s frown deepened. His tone was a bit sarcastic, and she didn’t like it one bit. “I had no idea. He and I . . .” Lindsey stopped short. She mentally shook herself for even starting to explain her relationship with her father. She stiffened her spine. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, steel in her tone. “I need to speak to you. Can I come inside for a few minutes?

  “I’ll save you the trouble of coming in. You can tell your father no.” His tone held icy decisiveness, and his eyes were growing cold.

  Not a good start. His feelings towards her father were still raw. She needed to get past the front door if she was going to plead her case. Arrogant, controlling men like this one—lord only knew she had worked with plenty of them⎯had to be handled with care. This was not the time to tell him why she was here. Inside his home where she had more sure ground was the place to lay it on the line.

  As of yet Mark hadn’t moved from the spot where he was comfortably perched. He either wasn’t planning to invite her in or he was going to make her ask. She gave him a direct look that said she was not leaving until she said her piece.

  “Mr. Reeves,” she started to speak, her tone sharp enough to match his, pausing for effect, which he took advantage of to interrupt.

  His tone softened. “Mark is fine.” He smiled. A sexy, compelling smile that only served to enhance his strange shift of mood. “I hear ‘Mr. Reeves’ enough in the courtroom.”

  Her lips pursed. She found this man far too appealing for her own good. Especially since he was the enemy for all practical purposes. Why, then, was she drawn to him? “Fine.” She paused for a split second. “Mark,” she said with sharp enunciation. “My father wouldn’t approve of me being here at all. I’m here for my own reasons.”

  Their eyes locked in an unblinking stare. Curiosity flashed in his deep, dark eyes but quickly disappeared and was replaced by an expressionless mask. “Well then, I guess I should invite you in.” There was a taunting edge to his voice. “For some reason I find hearing your reason for visiting an entertaining idea.” His lips settled into a mocking smirk.

  She bit her bottom lip to quell the sharp response that begged to slip from her mouth. Mark stepped to the inside of the door, and in an exaggerated, gallant wave, motioned for her to enter. She picked up her briefcase and entered the apartment. Lindsey followed Mark down several steps into a sunken living area. Inspecting the room, she hoped for some insight into Mark’s character.

  The entire front of the living room was filled with curtain-free, ceiling-to-floor windows, allowing for a brilliant view of the towering Manhattan skyline. Lindsey walked to the sleek, contemporary, black leather couch facing the view and sat down.

  The apartment screamed money and luxury, and a pampered lifestyle. Not that she faulted him for his choices. There was a time when she had chosen the very same things. Walking away from partnership rights in her father’s law firm had been a good decision. No, she didn’t have the money she had before, but she had her self worth.

  Something she prized far more than material items.

  Mark walked to the glossy black bar to her right. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, no thank you.” She didn’t look at him. Her focus was on the city. “Spectacular view,” she commented, unable to help herself. It was hard not to miss a city that beckoned the senses and stirred the soul.

  How had she forgotten the lure of New York?

  She could feel his eyes on her. Knew he studied her. “Thanks,” he said. “It helps me think.”

  Lindsey turned and watched him pour himself a whiskey. It was her first opportunity to assess him. He carried himself in a commanding fashion, moving with confidence. Rounding the bar, he moved in her direction, drink in hand. His jeans fit his strong, muscular legs like a glove while a white t-shirt hugged his well-defined waist and broad shoulders. A light stubble on his square jaw matched his slightly too long, sandy brown hair, giving him a rebel edge. The woman in her couldn’t help but notice how his defiant air and good looks made for one hell of a sexy man.

  Mark sat down in a large, leather chair across from Lindsey, leaning back in a relaxed fashion. He took a slug of his drink, and then pinned her in a stare. “So, why are you here Lindsey?”

  She sighed, trying to expel tension so it wouldn’t be evident in her voice. “You’re aware my father has cancer, I assume?”

  His voice held no emotion, no sign of remorse. “Yes, I know.”

  “You’re the person he was grooming to take over the firm.” It was not a question but rather a statement of fact. They both knew it to be true. He was hired to take over the role she had resigned from.

  He tilted his head a bit. “Was. Was the person.” He paused, and then added, “Actually, he settled for me when you left. You were always his first choice.”

  She cleared her throat, drawing her spine up stiffly. “I understand what it’s like to bump heads with my father. Your falling-out is understandable.”

  “So kind of you to understand.” His voice was laced with sarcasm.

  Lindsey inspected his face for a clue to his mood. His aristocratic bone structure gave him an unapproachable air. She intentionally softened her voice. “I know my father can be difficult.” Just talking about her father tended to make her tense, and she hoped it didn’t show.

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his glass dangling from one hand. “A falling-out is an understatement, Lindsey. Edward is a very difficult man.”

  Her defensive mechanism flared. Why she felt protective of her father, she couldn’t say. “I understand you are as well.”

  Mark’s eyebrows lifted. “What exactly does that mean?”

  She smirked ever so slightly. “You have a reputation.” In the courtroom he was known as a cobra with a deadly bite if crossed. In his personal life, rumor had it he was an extremely private person who rarely let anyone get close to him.

  “From the mouth of your father, no doubt.” His voice was colored with acid-like disdain.

  “Oh please. I’ve hardly spoken to my father over the last few years. Your reputation extends far beyond him.” And popular vote was correct; he was without a doubt a worthy opponent she would enjoy taking on in the courtroom. Of course, she would never step into a courtroom again, so that would never happen.

  He looked at her a long moment. She had no doubt he knew he had a reputation; in fact, he was probably proud of it. “It must extend quite the distance,” he said. “Don’t you live in Washington?”

  “I was in Washington and hope to go back soon.” Thus her visit to him. “I’m on a leave of absence from work due to my father’s illness.”

  “FBI, right?” he asked calling up his memory.

  “Right.”

  “Weren’t you here local for a while? In some special crimes unit?”

  Lindsey didn’t immediately respond. Her eyes drifted to the ground as her mind flashed back to some of the horrific crimes she had investigated. She had gotten out of practicing law to avoid the turbulence and bureaucracy of the legal system. In the process, she had gone from bad to worse. Her criminal law background had made her first pick for criminal investigation, and in a city like New York, that had meant she was in big demand. When the opportunity to transfer to a counter-terrorism division had come about, she had jumped at it.

  “Lindsey?”

  Lindsey mentally shook herself, desperate to snap out of her own dark thoughts. As she refocused on Mark she realized he was staring at her. Something in his eyes made her stomach flutter. There was a sizzling awareness between them. Something she didn’t understand. It laced the air, hidden behind their conversation.
She pushed the feeling aside, and said, “Yes, sorry. FBI, then and now. Only now I deal with counter-terrorism. No blood, no bodies, no red tape.” She wished she could yank the words back, but they were out before she could stop them. Her feelings about her career were none of his business.

  “I take it you saw a lot of violent crime?”

  “In the local office, all the time. Local officials called us in as back-up. In this city that was a regular thing.”

  He studied her a moment, as if he wanted to ask more. Instead he said, “Tell me about this reputation I have.”

  She raised a brow and shot him a knowing look, thankful for the change of subject. “Your way or the highway.” Inwardly she smiled, because despite her disapproving tone, she actually respected his success and the methods he used. He wasn’t dishonest or devious, just ruthlessly competitive. He won fair and square, no foul play.

  Mark’s lips turned up with a confident smile. “I like to win, if that is what you mean. I have little tolerance for obstacles.”

  “And my father was an obstacle,” she stated in a toneless voice. Even as she said the words, they didn’t make sense. What obstacle would her father offer that would bother Mark? Her father could be impossible at times, not listening to new thoughts and methods. Mark could have easily gotten tired of walking around his idiosyncrasies.

  Lindsey crossed her long legs and watched as Mark’s eyes shifted and followed the path from her hem to her shoes, and then back up again. She should have been insulted . . . instead, she found herself warm with awareness. She swallowed. It had been forever since she had wanted a man. Why, now, was she responding to Mark?

  “Look, Lindsey.” His voice was different now. She could tell he had decided to explain. “His priorities became skewed. At first I thought he was just distracted and would get back on track, but that wasn’t the case. Your father lost his business sense. I take my work very seriously. There are things I can deal with and things that I won’t tolerate. There are distractions, and there are obstacles. Distractions can offer a needed break, while obstacles impede progress.” He paused, looking a bit torn about his next words, before adding, “Your father became an obstacle.”

  She could understand his point, but it didn’t change her position. “He’s no longer capable of being an obstacle.”

  Mark shook his head. “He’s still an obstacle I can’t overcome, and you know it. He would cause me unwanted grief I’m simply not willing to take. Good thing you’re an attorney, Lindsey. He always wanted you to follow in his footsteps and take over for him. Now you can.”

  “I’m not an attorney any longer,” she stated firmly.

  “I know you’re still licensed to practice law.”

  She frowned, wondering how he knew that. “Only for convenience,” she clarified.

  “Are you afraid you’ve lost your touch?” The words were spoken softly, and were packed with far too much truth.

  Lindsey felt the heat of her emotions like a pinch, sharp and quick. She ignored his question. “I don’t want the firm. Don’t you understand that?”

  He gave her a level stare. “Seems you have no options.”

  Lindsey breathed in and out deeply. “Mr. Reeves . . .” she started to say, but he interrupted her.

  “Mark,” he corrected.

  Her teeth ground together. “Mark, I want you to take over the firm.”

  He stared at her a long, tense moment, his expression indiscernible. Lindsey wished she could read him. It was damn irritating the way he managed to hide his thoughts, and lord knew she was trying. No wonder he did so well in the courtroom.

  He shook his head. “That simply isn’t an option.”

  Lindsey didn’t try to hide her irritation. “Why?”

  He didn’t miss a beat, answering immediately. “I don’t need a reason. Let’s just say Edward and I disagree on a great many things.”

  She tried to keep the urgency from her voice. “Such as?”

  Mark raised his glass and finished off the contents, setting the glass down on the table. “Clients, staff, you name it. We simply don’t agree on anything.”

  She stiffened, feeling desperation, and hating it “What if I told you he’s given me full control of the firm, and I’m willing to hand it to you?” Lindsey searched his face for a reaction, but he wasn’t allowing her to get even an inkling of what lurked beneath his surface.

  His reply was short, giving her no hint of what he was thinking. “Why?”

  “I don’t want it,” she insisted. “I have a job I love in another city.”

  His eyes probed, and silence lingered so long it made her uncomfortable. Then, “Still messed up over the Hudson case, aren’t you, Lindsey?” His voice held no taunt, no accusation, just fact.

  Just hearing the name Hudson made her skin chill. Her win of a not-guilty verdict had gotten another woman killed. It was the last time she stepped into a courtroom as an attorney. If there was anything this man could do to rattle her, it was this. To bring up her career-ending case was like a walk down nightmare lane.

  And he did it in a voice both soft and familiar. Too familiar . . . and his words were far too knowing. Anger swept through her. She didn’t like his quick dismissal of her offer nor did she like the way he sized her up and identified her weakness.

  Lindsey stood up and walked to the window, looking out across the city, trying to shackle her temper, and regain some semblance of control. She wasn’t even sure how to respond to such a remark. She stood there, deep in thought, unable to manage a reply.

  “Lindsey?”

  Without turning, she answered. “Yes?” She felt, rather than heard him move behind her, but she didn’t turn around. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke. And somehow, as strange as it was, his presence comforted. It defied reason since he brought up the very subject that upset her. Besides, she hardly knew him.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” he said in a voice laced with sincerity.

  Her father had said those exact words too many times. “I got him off, and then someone died. He killed again, and it was my fault.”

  She felt his hands on her shoulders. The touch was a surprise, but somehow it felt right. He turned her to face him, and she didn’t resist. She stood perfectly still, afraid of what she was feeling. An overpowering urge to lean into him consumed her.

  “You did your job.”

  His words felt almost protective. “A job I no longer want,” she said through tight, trembling lips.

  He ran his hand through his hair before turning and walking back toward the couch, stopping with his back to her. The odd need to reach for him, to pull him back to her, was overwhelming . He was a virtual stranger, so wanting him near was crazy.

  He turned to face her. “Look Lindsey, I have obligations I’ve made since leaving the Paxton Group.”

  “I’ll beat any price that’s been offered,” she said with hope in her voice. “My father has money.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want your money. The water between me and Edward is far too muddy.”

  She made a desperate effort at reasoning. “He’s not capable of working now. You and I have no history. I don’t resemble my father at all.”

  His eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t believe you do, but I still can’t come back.”

  Hugging herself with her arms, Lindsey turned to face the window. The pinching in the back of her eyes told her, that were he to look, there was a glassy desperation reflected there, the depth of which she preferred not share with Mark. She half expected him to walk up behind her again, but he didn’t. And if the disappointed and irrational desire she was feeling was any proof, she might just be losing her mind.

  After a few moments of silence, Lindsey felt she had regained her composure enough to turn and face Mark. He hadn’t moved from where he stood. Her words were soft and forced. “He has this case. Williams is the name. He believes the guy is innocent. It resembles the Hudson case. A lot.” She paused and squ
eezed her eyes together as she inhaled a steadying breath. Then, forcing herself to look at him, she continued, “I can’t handle it,” she said shaking her head. “Daddy says he won’t trust anyone but me to handle the case, but I just can’t do it.”

  “You could still make the decision to hand it off to one of the staff attorneys,” he offered.

  Her eyes were hopeful. “Who do you recommend?”

  He looked at her a long moment and then shook his head from side to side. “That was one of my issues with Edward, his choice of partners. None of them; I wouldn’t recommend a one of them.”

  She said what was going through her mind, speaking half to herself. “This will be high profile. It could damage the firm if handled wrong.”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “Look Lindsey, you were good enough then, and you are good enough now.” Then he added, “Paxton does have a few decent attorneys, but not for this type of case.”

  “Don’t you understand, I don’t want to do it?” Then through clenched teeth, “Not—this—case.”

  Somehow, she felt he would understand. He walked towards her, closing the distance between them. Similarities in their histories alone made him know her in ways some never could. He stopped in front of her. Close. Attraction, warm and unnerving, danced between them like a flare gun ready to launch. Lindsey tried to crush this crazy rush she felt from his nearness. Yet . . . she knew he wanted to kiss her, and she wasn’t sure if he tried, she would stop him.

  Where was the woman who said no so easily and never showed her emotions?

  * * * * *

  Something about this woman got under his skin. Such a tough exterior, yet so much pain underneath. It made him want to touch her, to hold her. She looked into his eyes: emotions glistening in the form of unshed tears.

  And somehow he knew he had been given a unique glimpse beneath her exterior. One very few ever saw.

  He reached out and tipped her chin up, knowing he shouldn’t touch her, but unable to stop himself. “I bet those green eyes can slice air in the courtroom.” His gaze dropped and lingered on her lush lips. So soft, so full, so in need of being kissed. He couldn’t remember ever getting his business senses blurred by a woman. Yet here he was, thinking about kissing Lindsey Paxton, daughter of his ex-partner.