Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
1
HE HAD TO BE the most gorgeous man on the face of the earth, his well-honed athletic body nothing short of a virtuoso’s work of art. Faded jeans hugged strong thighs and a knit polo shirt stretched over a wide chest and lean belly. Raisin-colored sleeves molded and emphasized sculpted, muscular biceps capable of making a girl’s heart go all fluttery.
He was also extremely irritated.
Jill Cassidy considered closing the door to her office, but with Mr. Tall, Dark and Gorgeous raising his voice at her boss right outside, the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself and perhaps embarrass her boss.
“I do apologize, Morgan,” her boss said calmly. “But calendar conflicts make it impossible. I just have no one available to handle such a minor offense.”
The Adonis glanced her way. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her mouth suddenly felt drier than the California desert. Hair as black as midnight highlighted eyes the color of thunderclouds, holding her spellbound. High cheekbones and a firm, square jaw added to the sculpted magnificence of his appearance. Even though his features were hardened by his obvious frustration, masculine appeal still radiated from him in waves.
Her feminine senses went on red alert.
Jill’s gaze dipped to his mouth, zeroing in on the sensuality of his full lower lip. Forbidden images of touching her lips to his sent a surge of heat racing through her.
Shocked by her reaction to a complete stranger, no matter how gorgeous, she shifted her attention back to the open book on her desk and the case law she needed for a motion to suppress evidence she’d been researching most of the afternoon. Before she looked away, she caught a glimpse of something else in his eyes, something that touched her deep inside. A hint of desperation—an emotion she was far too acquainted with to discount.
“There has to be something you can do,” Mr. Wonderful said, his tone calmer. “Someone you can spare.”
“It’s only a minor offense. Just let the public defender’s office handle it if this guy can’t afford an attorney,” Nick offered. “You can’t save them all, Morgan.”
Jill shook her head. A public defender was a sure guarantee of a conviction. She knew, since she’d spent six months in the PD’s office before landing a job in Lowell and Montgomery’s criminal department two years ago. From her experience in the government office, she’d quickly learned that most of the once bright-eyed lawyers were overworked, underpaid and jaded by the revolving-door policy of the criminal justice system.
“He’s a good kid, Nick, and I want him to have a good lawyer,” Morgan insisted. “He doesn’t need one mistake haunting him for the rest of his life.”
Jill agreed, even if she had no idea who needed an attorney or what crime had been committed. Everyone deserved a good lawyer.
“He’s my best foreman,” he added, shoving a large hand through his jet-black hair, “and I need him back on the job site as soon as possible. It’s important.”
Nick shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry, Morgan,” he said. “I wish I could help, but we just don’t have anyone to spare. If it was a bigger case, I could see about shifting some things around to make room on the calendar. Look, if the final decision was mine, you know we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but I do have other senior partners to answer to.”
Jill sensed Morgan’s frustration when he shook hands with her boss, then said something she couldn’t hear before spinning on his booted heel and heading down the corridor. Which was just as well, she decided. She had her own personal problem for which she still hadn’t found a resolution, and panting after a handsome stranger was hardly a way to solve it.
Or was it?
Jill bit her lip as Nick walked into her small, windowless office, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his trousers. “How’s the motion coming along?” he asked, stopping in front of her desk.
“Good,” she said, her mind whirring with possibilities she couldn’t seem to shake. She dropped her pen on the desk, certain she was truly desperate to even consider propositioning a perfect stranger. “What was that all about?”
Nick shook his head again, compassion lighting his distinguished features. “One of his employees tied one on for his twenty-first birthday, got a little out of hand and now he’s facing a drunk-and-disorderly charge,” he said, dropping into the chair opposite her desk. “I’d like to help, but…well, you heard. Montgomery’s been on a rampage lately because he’s had more beans in the debt column and less in the income column. If I shifted a bigger case for something small like this, I’d be wearing his wing tips in a very uncomfortable place.”
She suppressed a grin and settled back into the hunter-green executive chair. “Can’t you take on his case pro bono, and not involve the firm?”
Nick propped his foot over his knee. “I wish I could, but with the Simmons trial in two days and the Martinez trial in another week…. Well, you know what’s it been like around here. How many billable hours have you put in the past month on those two cases alone? Montgomery’s managing partner for a reason,” he said with a heartfelt chuckle.
Jill did understand. Just that morning all of the associates had been called into a meeting with Mr. Montgomery for the semiannual “billable hours are down again” lecture. The firm was in business to make a profit, but the softer side of her, which wasn’t completely jaded by the legal system, wanted desperately to reach out to the most stunning man she’d ever laid eyes on and do something to help him.
And it had nothing to do with her physical reaction to Mr. Drop-Dead Gorgeous, she told herself firmly, or the ludicrous idea that had taken hold and wouldn’t let go.
Jill quashed the silly notion flirting on the edges of her mind as not only insane, but certifiable. She leaned forward again, bracing her elbows on the desk. “The firm can’t take on his case, right?”
Nick shook his head. “Not unless I want to send Montgomery into an apoplectic fit.”
The idea wouldn’t be nudged, shoved or quashed. “But if you took on his case pro bono, you’d have to assign it to another associate, right?”
Nick’s brows pulled together in a frown. “No, Jill,” he said firmly, knowing exactly where she was headed with her line of questioning. “Morgan Price is a friend. I want to help him, but there’s no way the firm can afford to spare you right now. We’ve got two tough cases—”
“I can handle this case for him.”
She probably should have her head examined. Not for offering to handle a simple drunk-and-disorderly charge, but for the direction her thoughts had taken. Morgan Price was the perfect solution to her problem. She needed a favor, and he wanted a criminal lawyer for his employee. Who said the barter system wasn’t alive and well, even if this was Los Angeles?
“The firm won’t allow it.”
She wasn’t about to be dissuaded. Not when she finally had a plan capable of resolving her own problem. All she had to do was convince the guy who stirred her senses to agree with her terms. “I’m not talking about the firm, Nick. Me. I could do it.”
“Were you not in the associates’ meeting this morning?” he asked rhetorically. “You can’t take on another case and still manage your current caseload, especially since I need you to second-chair two big trials.”
Undaunted, she stood and circled the desk. “I can do it, Nick,” she said again, propping her hip against the elegant mahogany. “It’s a simple case. It won’t take me but a morning or an afternoon out of the office.”
Nick regarded her speculatively. “What’s in it for you?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I just feel for the guy, that’s all,” she hedged, wondering if what she was seriously considering breached the wall of ethical legal practices.
Nick stood and looked at her, a slight grin tugging his lips. “Okay, you win. One day, Jill. That’s all. And the firm is not to be associated with this case whatsoever. You’ll have to do whatever prep work is necessary on your own time.”
She smiled, hoping her plan worked. “Thanks, Nick.”
His grin was rueful at best. “Don’t thank me yet. You wrap this up, and quick.”
“I can handle it,” she said again, straightening.
“I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, Jill. Morgan is a good friend, but he’s got a serious problem.”
Oh great, she thought and frowned. She was about to proposition a lunatic. “Problem?”
Nick nodded. “Morgan’s the quintessential nice guy. He can’t say no to anyone in need.”
Her frown quickly faded. She’d finally found a solution to her own problem, and in time to fly home to Homer, Illinois for her little sister’s wedding at the end of the month.
Morgan Price needed a criminal lawyer.
She needed a fiancé.
And her intended was a guy who couldn’t say no.