Read Online Lawyers In Love: In His Own Defense by Ann Jacobs - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ann Jacobs
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chair. Now, with the sun slipping beyond the western horizon and a breeze blowing away the heat of the day, being outdoors was downright pleasant.
She smiled at Tony, then glanced past him at phosphorescent patterns of red, green and white reflected on the water from the big boat’s running lights. “It’s been years since I’ve been out on a boat.”
“Like it?”
“ Miss Trial ? She’s beautiful.” From the jutting bow to the padded engine box and seats in the stern, the thirty-eight-foot motor cruiser boasted every imaginable nautical amenity. “Have you had her long?”
He laughed. “About a year. Would you believe, she was my fee for defending a colleague accused of criminal fraud?”
“Just how much do you charge for your services?” Miss Trial , she guessed, was worth something in low six figures—at least.
“Five hundred an hour minimum. Five times that for actual time in court,” he replied. “This case was special, though. I earned every penny of what Miss Trial ’s worth, and more.”
He named a south Florida attorney who had made headlines because of his alleged involvement in a real estate scam that had bilked several lending institutions of close to a billion dollars. “He had no cash, and not many assets that weren’t tied up by the courts—just this boat and a piece of property on Biscayne Bay. He signed the property over to the lawyers who handled his civil trials.”
Kristine smiled. “Did you have another boat before this one?”
“No.”
“Not even when you were a kid?” She recalled the sleek Lightning-class sailboat that had been her father’s pride and joy.
He cut the engine, got up abruptly, and tossed an anchor off the bow. “Not ever,” he snapped.
What had she said to earn that barely civil response?
Then he smiled, as though apologizing for his brusque reply. “That’s probably why I’m so crazy about Miss Trial . I spend nearly every waking hour I’m not working, doing something or other with her. Come on, let’s move back to the stern and watch the stars. There’s nothing more peaceful than watching the night sky from out on the water.”
Soft light from the cockpit caught the brilliant white of Tony’s pleated tux shirt, bathing his broad shoulders in its glow. Kristine’s fingers itched, she wanted so much to touch him.
The night held magic as charged as lightning, as soft as gentle rain. Could she risk its spell? Could she give herself to Tony and not relinquish her own purpose—her self?
When he held out his hand, she went to him, let him draw her in. Close. Closer. Until her body strained to feel his through thin layers of silk and India cotton. Until her heart beat in tandem with his under the blanket of blue-black sky, the boat deck a perfect island on a gently rolling sea.
“You’ve bewitched me, Krissy,” he murmured, his warm, damp breath teasing the lobe of her ear.
Krissy . No one but Helen had ever called her that, but it sounded right coming from him on this magical night when he was drawing her inexorably into a sensual spell. She wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing him so close his heat scorched her, made her want…
“Kiss me.”
She felt his words, felt his breath as his mouth descended in slow, languid motion.
When their lips met for the first time, it was as though they’d been together like this for a lifetime, as if her body knew what her mind did not. He deepened the kiss, nibbling at her lower lip, tangling his tongue with hers.
Sensations poured over her, merged deep in her belly and made her burn for more. Textures of finely woven cotton and featherweight wool chafed her fingers as she skimmed them over his shirt and lower. A faint but pleasant taste of the Scotch he’d been drinking earlier tickled her tongue. His clean masculine scent, a faint but pungent smell of citrus and musk and man, surrounded her.
Was he real or only a dream? Kristine reached up and caressed his cheek. The slight rasp of
She smiled at Tony, then glanced past him at phosphorescent patterns of red, green and white reflected on the water from the big boat’s running lights. “It’s been years since I’ve been out on a boat.”
“Like it?”
“ Miss Trial ? She’s beautiful.” From the jutting bow to the padded engine box and seats in the stern, the thirty-eight-foot motor cruiser boasted every imaginable nautical amenity. “Have you had her long?”
He laughed. “About a year. Would you believe, she was my fee for defending a colleague accused of criminal fraud?”
“Just how much do you charge for your services?” Miss Trial , she guessed, was worth something in low six figures—at least.
“Five hundred an hour minimum. Five times that for actual time in court,” he replied. “This case was special, though. I earned every penny of what Miss Trial ’s worth, and more.”
He named a south Florida attorney who had made headlines because of his alleged involvement in a real estate scam that had bilked several lending institutions of close to a billion dollars. “He had no cash, and not many assets that weren’t tied up by the courts—just this boat and a piece of property on Biscayne Bay. He signed the property over to the lawyers who handled his civil trials.”
Kristine smiled. “Did you have another boat before this one?”
“No.”
“Not even when you were a kid?” She recalled the sleek Lightning-class sailboat that had been her father’s pride and joy.
He cut the engine, got up abruptly, and tossed an anchor off the bow. “Not ever,” he snapped.
What had she said to earn that barely civil response?
Then he smiled, as though apologizing for his brusque reply. “That’s probably why I’m so crazy about Miss Trial . I spend nearly every waking hour I’m not working, doing something or other with her. Come on, let’s move back to the stern and watch the stars. There’s nothing more peaceful than watching the night sky from out on the water.”
Soft light from the cockpit caught the brilliant white of Tony’s pleated tux shirt, bathing his broad shoulders in its glow. Kristine’s fingers itched, she wanted so much to touch him.
The night held magic as charged as lightning, as soft as gentle rain. Could she risk its spell? Could she give herself to Tony and not relinquish her own purpose—her self?
When he held out his hand, she went to him, let him draw her in. Close. Closer. Until her body strained to feel his through thin layers of silk and India cotton. Until her heart beat in tandem with his under the blanket of blue-black sky, the boat deck a perfect island on a gently rolling sea.
“You’ve bewitched me, Krissy,” he murmured, his warm, damp breath teasing the lobe of her ear.
Krissy . No one but Helen had ever called her that, but it sounded right coming from him on this magical night when he was drawing her inexorably into a sensual spell. She wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing him so close his heat scorched her, made her want…
“Kiss me.”
She felt his words, felt his breath as his mouth descended in slow, languid motion.
When their lips met for the first time, it was as though they’d been together like this for a lifetime, as if her body knew what her mind did not. He deepened the kiss, nibbling at her lower lip, tangling his tongue with hers.
Sensations poured over her, merged deep in her belly and made her burn for more. Textures of finely woven cotton and featherweight wool chafed her fingers as she skimmed them over his shirt and lower. A faint but pleasant taste of the Scotch he’d been drinking earlier tickled her tongue. His clean masculine scent, a faint but pungent smell of citrus and musk and man, surrounded her.
Was he real or only a dream? Kristine reached up and caressed his cheek. The slight rasp of
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