Legal Attraction

While they knew her too well to believe them, they had to contend with the comments from their friends, from their fellow parishioners, from their neighbors...

That was why she hated Ronan Hall. Not so much for what he’d done to her as for what he’d done to them. She wanted him to suffer like they had. That was why she’d turned those papers she’d received over to the bar association. But maybe she should have had them authenticated first. She’d thought Bette had given them to her, though.

But Bette hadn’t known anything about them.

So who had delivered that envelope of memos to Muriel’s door? And were they real?

She needed to know the truth. And she needed proof of it. The best way to do that was to go directly to the source: Ronan himself.

Could she use her looks to get him to admit to what he’d done? An audio recording of his confession would be indisputable evidence.

But what would she have to do that would compel him to confess? Seduce him?

Instead of disgusting her, the way the idea should have, she was strangely excited by it. Maybe that was just because it had been so long since she’d been with anyone but her vibrator. While that eased some of her tension, it wasn’t like being with a man—like having his hands and his mouth on her.

Like Ronan’s mouth had been on hers...

Heat flashed through her, and she headed toward her bedroom—and to the vibrator she kept in the table beside the bed. For tonight, it would have to do...while she planned how to seduce Ronan Hall into confessing to his misconduct during her divorce proceedings.

That was what she really wanted. His confession.

Not him...

But she thought of him as she pulled the vibrator from the drawer. From the erection she’d felt straining against his dress pants, she knew he was bigger than her toy. And if it was possible, maybe harder...

He had wanted her. No matter how much they detested each other, they couldn’t deny the attraction between them. And Muriel would use that to her advantage, just like she used thoughts of him as she shrugged off her sweater and pushed down her yoga pants. Then she lay back on the bed, and she imagined Ronan kissing her, touching her...

She tugged one of the bows of her camisole free and began to touch herself. There were two more bows holding her panties together. She undid those as she flipped the switch for the vibrator. And she imagined it was Ronan’s long, hard cock as she slid it inside herself.

She came almost instantly, and to her horror, she cried out his name.

CHAPTER THREE (#u858c4dcd-0861-54a4-a32c-590ca062cd5c)

LIGHTS BLAZED, BUT that wasn’t what had sweat beading on Ronan’s brow. The heat flashing through him had nothing to do with the lights and everything to do with the woman posing beneath them.

She wore so very little on her gorgeous body—just some scraps of lace and silk and all that naturally tan skin. Desire slammed through Ronan with a force he’d never felt before. It knocked him back on his heels while making his cock rock hard.

Maybe coming here had been a bad idea.

But he wanted to come—inside her. He knew she was the only one who could relieve the unbearable tension that had been building in his body since he’d been trapped in the elevator with her a couple of nights ago.

“Muriel!” the photographer shouted at her. “You’re not giving me what I want!”

She wasn’t giving Ronan what he wanted, either—because he wanted her to untie that bow between the cups of her strapless black bra, wanted her to untie the bows on each hip that held up her panties.

But he wanted more than to see her naked. He wanted to feel her, taste her...and bury himself deep inside her.

Why the hell was he so attracted to this woman? He would have screwed her in the elevator if she hadn’t pulled away and slapped him. But she’d kissed him back before she’d done that. Was she attracted to him, too?

He was counting on it—so that he could get the truth out of her. That was really why he was here, why he’d tracked her down at her photoshoot. It wasn’t for sex.

He could get that anywhere. It wasn’t as if he wanted or needed only her. Any woman would do.

No. What he really wanted from Muriel Sanz was the truth.

Her lips curved into a slight smile. “What do you want, Lawrence?”

“Bad,” the photographer shouted back. “I need you to be bad.”

She was bad, and Ronan had proved that in court. She claimed those witnesses had been lying, though. Why would they lie? Why would they risk perjury charges? They’d had nothing to gain from their testimony.

Muriel Sanz was the liar. And Ronan intended to prove it. He just had to get her to admit to forging those memos. Could he seduce her into a confession?

Those witnesses had claimed she was addicted to sex and that was why she’d cheated on her husband. So if she was addicted to sex, maybe he could get her addicted to sex with him—so addicted that she would confess all to him.

He knew it was possible for a person to get addicted to another person. That had been his father’s downfall: his addiction to Ronan’s mother despite how badly she’d mistreated him. She’d been a lot like Muriel Sanz—beautiful and selfish and completely devoid of a conscience.

“I need you to be the badass of Bette’s Beguiling Bows,” Lawrence said.

This photo shoot was for the line of lingerie Muriel exclusively modeled. That line had been designed by her friend and Simon’s former assistant, Bette Monroe.

He had to admit that Bette had a talent for design. Her lingerie was the sexiest he’d ever seen.

Unfortunately, so was Muriel.

“Oh, I can be a badass,” she assured the photographer. But she was looking at Ronan now. He could feel her gaze on him, and his skin began to heat even more. She raised her husky voice a little more, probably making certain he would hear, and added, “I can be very, very bad...”

Ronan chuckled. She’d already started confessing...and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

The camera clicked.

She ran her fingertips down her deep cleavage to the bow between her breasts. And she toyed with the ends the way he’d toyed with the bow the other night...in the elevator.

Too bad that bow hadn’t been between her breasts, too. Then he could have touched her, like she was touching herself.

As she stroked her fingertips up and down her cleavage, she sank her teeth into her bottom lip then swiped her tongue across it.

And Ronan groaned. The photographer echoed the sound and shot a glance at him. Instead of admonishing him for trespassing on the set, the guy grinned at him. “You must be the reason for that sudden spark in her eyes,” Lawrence said. “You made her bad.”

Ronan chuckled. “Nobody made Muriel that way.” Least of all him. She’d already been bad.

“I’m good,” she said. And she tilted her head provocatively. “Very, very good...”

And both men groaned again.

Lawrence muttered, “Now I understand why her ex...”

“What?” Ronan asked when the guy trailed off. “Why he what?” Divorced her or married her?