Falling For Rachel - Stanislaskis 3 Part 5

The sick feeling in Nick's gut had him crushing out the cigarette. "He just feels obligated, that's all."

"Maybe. Either way, it seems to me you owe him something, Nick. At least you owe him a little cooperation over the next few weeks. He was scared when he came looking for me tonight. You probably don't want to believe that, either."

"Zack's never been scared of anything."

"He didn't come right out and say it, but I think he believed you'd taken off for good, that he wasn't going to see you again."

"Where the h.e.l.l would I go?" he demanded. "There's n.o.body-'' He broke off, ashamed to admit there was no one to go to. "We made a deal," he muttered, "I'm not going to skip."

"I'm glad to hear it. And I'm not going to ask you where you went," she added with a faint smile. "If I did, I'd have to put it in my report to Judge Beckett, and I'd rather not. So we'll just say you went out for some air, lost track of the time. Maybe the next time you feel like you've got to get out, you could call me."

"Why?" "Because I know how it feels when you need to break loose." He looked so lost that Rachel skimmed a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his face. "Lighten up, Nick. It's not a crime to be friends with your lawyer, either. So what do you say? You give me a break and try a little harder to get along with Zack, and I'll do what I can to keep him off your back? I know all kinds of tricks for handling nosy older brothers."

Her scent was clouding his senses. He didn't know why he hadn't noticed before how beautiful her eyes were. How deep and wide and soft.

"Maybe you and I could go out sometime."

"Sure." She saw the suggestion-only as a breakthrough in trust, and she smiled. "Rio's a terrific cook, but once in a while you just got to have pizza, right?"

"Yeah. So I can call you?"

"Absolutely." She gave his hand a quick squeeze. When his hand tightened over hers, she was only mildly surprised. Before she could comment, Zack was pushing the door open again. Nick jumped up as if he were on a string.

Zack pa.s.sed Rachel her wine, then handed Nick the ginger-ale bottle he had hooked under one finger. Taking his time, he twisted off the top of the beer he had hooked under another. "So, did you two finish your consultation?"

"For now." Rachel sipped her wine and lifted a brow at Nick.

It wasn't easy, especially after what she'd told him Zack had done, but Nick met his brother's eyes. "I'm sorry I took off."

The surprise was so great that Zack had to swallow quickly or choke on his beer. "Okay. We can work out a schedule so you can have more free time." What the h.e.l.l did he do now? "Uh...Rio could use some help swabbing down the kitchen. Things usually break up early on Sunday nights." "Sure, no problem." Nick started for the door. "See you, Rachel."

When the door closed, Zack dropped down beside her, shaking his head.

"What'd you do, hypnotize him?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, what the h.e.l.l did you say to him?"

She sighed, tremendously pleased with herself, and settled back. "That's privileged information. He just needs someone to stroke his bruised ego now and again. You two may not be biological brothers, but your temperament's very similar."

"Oh." He settled back, as well, swinging an arm around the top of the couch so that he could play with her hair. "How's that."

"You're both hotheaded and stubborn-which is easy for me to recognize, as I come from a long line of the same." Enjoying the wine and the quiet, she let her eyes close. "You don't like to admit you made a mistake, and you'd rather punch your way out of a problem than reason it through."

"Are you trying to say those are faults?"

She had to laugh. "We'll just call them personality traits. My family is ripe with pa.s.sionate natures. And what a pa.s.sionate nature requires is an outlet. My sister Natasha had dance, then her own business and her family. My brother Mikhail has his art. Alexi has his quest to right wrongs, and I have the law. As I see it, you had the navy, and now this bar. Nick hasn't found his yet."

He brushed a finger lightly over the nape of her neck, felt the quick quiver that ran through her. "Do you really consider the law enough of an outlet for pa.s.sion?" "The way I play it." She opened her eyes, but the smile that had started to curve her lips died away. He'd shifted, and his face was close-much too close-and his hands had slipped down to her shoulders. The warning bell that rang in her brain had come too late. "I've got to get home," she said quickly. "I've got a nine-o'clock hearing."

"I'll take you in a minute."

"I know the way, Muldoon."

"I'll take you," he said again, and something in his tone made it quite clear that he wasn't talking about walking her to her door. He tugged the winegla.s.s out of her hand and set it aside. "We were talking about pa.s.sionate natures." His fingers skimmed up through her hair, fisted in it. "And outlets."

In an automatic defensive gesture, her hand slammed against his chest, but he continued to draw her closer. "I came here to help you, Muldoon," she reminded him as his mouth hovered dangerously above hers. "Not to play games."

"Just testing your theory, Counselor." He nipped lightly at her lower lip, once, twice. When that teasing sample stirred the juices, he crushed his mouth to hers and devoured.

She could stop him. Of course she would stop him, Rachel told herself.

She knew how to defend herself against unwanted advances. The trouble was, she hadn't a clue as to how to defend herself against advances she didn't want to want.

His mouth was so... avid. So impatient. So greedy. She wondered if he would swallow her whole. He used lips and tongue and teeth devastatingly. If there was an instant, some fraction of a heartbeat, when she could have resisted, it pa.s.sed unnoticed, and she was swamped by the hot wave that was his need, or hers. Or what they made together. On one long, throaty moan, she went under for the third time, dragging him with her.

He'd been prepared for her to slap or scratch. And he would have accepted it, would have forced himself to be satisfied with that quick, tempting taste. He was a man with large appet.i.tes, but he had never been one to take what wasn't offered willingly.

She didn't offer. She exploded. In that blink of time before his mouth covered hers, he'd seen the fire come into her eyes, that dark, liquid fire that equaled pa.s.sion. When the kiss had gone from teasing to fever ed, she had answered, pulling him far deeper into that hot well of desires than he'd intended to go.

And that moan. It sprinted along his spine, that glorious feline sound that was both surrender and demand. Even as it died away, she was wrapping herself around him, pressing that incredibly lean and limber body against his in a way that had a chain of explosions rioting through his system.

She heard his breathy oath, felt the long cushions of the couch press into her back as he shifted her. For one wild moment, all she could think was Yes! This was what she wanted, this wild flurry of sensations, this crazed, mindless mating of flesh. As his mouth raced down to savage her throat, she arched against him, craving the possession.

Then he said her name. Groaned it. The shock of hearing it ripped her back to reality. She was grappling on a couch in a strange apartment with a man she barely knew.

"No." His hands were moving over her, and they nearly dragged her back into the whirlwind. Desperate to pull away, she shoved and struggled. "Stop. I said no."

He couldn't get his breath. If someone had held a gun to his head, he wouldn't have moved. But the no stopped him. He managed to lift his head, and the reckless light in his eyes had her fighting against a shudder. "Why?"

"Because this is insane." G.o.d, she could still taste him on her lips, and the churning for more of him was making her crazy. "Get off me."

He could have strangled her for making him want to beg. "Your call, lady." Because his hands were unsteady, he balled them into fists. "I thought you said you didn't play games."

She was humiliated, furious, and frustrated beyond belief. As she saw it, the best disguise was full-blown anger. "I don't. You're the one who pushed yourself on me. The simple fact is, I'm not interested."

"I guess that's why you were kissing me so hard my teeth are loose."

"You kissed me." She jabbed a finger at him. "And you're so d.a.m.n big I couldn't stop you."

"A simple no did," he reminded her, and lit a cigarette. "Let's keep it honest, Counselor. I wanted to kiss you. I've been wanting to do that, and more, ever since I saw you sitting like a queen in that grubby station house. Now, maybe you didn't feel the same way, but when I kissed you, you kissed me right back."

Sometimes retreat was the best defense. Rachel s.n.a.t.c.hed up her purse and jacket. "It's done, so there's nothing more to discuss."

"Wrong." He was up and blocking her path. "We can finish discussing it while I take you home."

"I don't want you to take me home. I'm not having you take me home."

Eyes blazing, she swung her jacket over her shoulders. "And if you insist on following me there, I'll have you arrested for hara.s.sment."

He merely grabbed her by the arm. "Try it." She did something she wished she'd done the first time she laid eyes on him. She punched him in the stomach. He let out a little whoosh of air, and his eyes narrowed.

"First one's free. Now, we can walk to the subway, or I can carry you there."

"What's wrong with you?" she shouted. "Can't you take no for an answer?"

His response was to shove her back against the door and kiss the breath out of her. "If I didn't," he said between his teeth, "we wouldn't be walking out of here right now when you've got me so wound up I'm going to have to live in a cold shower for the next week." He yanked open the door. "Now... are you going to walk, or are you going to ride over my shoulder?"

She stuck out her chin and sailed past him.

She'd walk, all right. But she'd be d.a.m.ned if she'd speak to him.

Chapter Four

At the end of a harried ten-hour day, Rachel walked out of the courthouse. She should have been feeling great-her last client was certainly happy with the non-guilty verdict she'd gotten for him. But this time the victory hadn't managed to lift her spirits. The only solution she could see was to pick up a quart of ice cream on the way home and gorge herself into a sugar coma.

It usually worked, and since, as a law-abiding citizen, she couldn't relieve her tension by striding into Lower the Boom and shooting Zackary Muldoon through his thick skull, it was the safest alternative. She almost tripped over her own feet when she saw him rise from his perch at the bottom of the steps.

"Counselor." He reached out a hand when she teetered. "Steady as she goes."

"What now?" she demanded, jerking away. "Doesn't it occur to you that-even though I've been appointed by the court as Nick's co- guardian-I'm ent.i.tled to an hour of personal time without you in my face?"

He studied that face, noting signs of fatigue, as well as temper, in those big, tawny eyes. "You know, honey, I figured you'd be in a better mood after winning a case like you just did. Let's try these." With a flourish, he brought his other hand from behind his back. It was filled with gold, bronze and rust-colored mums.

Refusing to be charmed, Rachel gave them one long, suspicious glare.

"What are those for?"

"To replace the ones that are dying in your apartment." When she made no move to take them, he bit down on his impatience. He'd come to apologize, d.a.m.n it, and it looked as though she was going to make him go through with it. "Okay, I'm sorry. I got pushy the other night. And after I got over wanting to choke you, I realized you'd gone out of your way to do me a favor, and I'd repaid it by..." Furious all over again, he thrust the flowers at her. "h.e.l.l, lady, all I did was kiss you."

All he did? she thought, tempted to toss the flowers down and grind them underfoot. Just kissing didn't jangle a woman's system for better than thirty-six hours. "Why don't you take your flowers, and your charming apology, and-"

"Hold on." He thought it better to stop her before she said something he'd regret. "I said I was sorry, and I meant it, but maybe I should be more specific." To ensure that she'd stay put until he was finished, he wrapped his fingers around the lapel of her plum-colored jacket. "I'm not sorry I kissed you, any more than I'm going to be sorry the next time I kiss you. I am sorry for the way I acted after you put on the brakes."

She lifted a brow. "The way you acted," she repeated. "You mean like a jerk."

It gave her a great deal of pleasure to see a muscle twitch in his jaw.

"Okay."

A smart attorney knew when to accept a compromise.

Lips pursed, she studied the flowers. "Are these a bribe, Muldoon?"

The way she said his name, with just a hint of a sneer, told him he'd gotten over the first hurdle. "Yeah."

"All right, I'll take them."

"Gee, thanks." Now that his hands were free, he tucked his thumbs in his front pockets. "I slipped in the courtroom about an hour ago and watched you."

"Oh?" She couldn't tell him how glad she was she hadn't seen him.

"And?"

"Not bad. Turning a vandalism charge around on the other guy-''

"The plaintiff," she explained. "My client was justifiably frustrated after he'd exhausted all reasonable attempts to have his landlord live up to the terms of his lease."

"And spray painting The Landlord from h.e.l.l all over the guy's brownstone on the Upper West Side was his way of relieving that frustration." "He certainly made his point. My client had paid his rent on time and in good faith, and the landlord consistently refused to acknowledge each and every request for repair and maintenance. Under the terms of the lease-"

"Hey, babe." Zack raised a hand, palm out. "You don't have to sell me.

By the time you got through, I was pulling for him. There were murmurs in the visitors' gallery about lynching the landlord." His mouth was sober enough, but his eyes danced with humor. The contrast was all but irresistible.

Her smile was quick and wicked. "I love justice."

Reaching out, he toyed with the tiny gold links circling her neck.

"Maybe you'd like to celebrate your victory for the underdog. Want to go for a walk?"

Mistake. The word popped full-blown into her mind, but she could smell the spicy flowers, and the evening was beautifully balmy. "I guess I would, as long as it's to my apartment. I should put these in water."

"Let me take that." He'd tugged the briefcase out of her hand before she could object. Then-she should have expected it-he took her arm.

"What do you carry in here, bricks?"

"The law's a weighty business, Muldoon." His grip on her forced her to slow her pace to his. He strolled when she would have strode. "So, how's it going with Nick?"

"It's better. At least I think it's better. He balked at the idea of Rio teaching him to cook, but the idea of busing tables didn't seem to bother him much. He still won't talk to me-I mean really talk to me. But it's only been a week."

"You've got seven more." "Yeah." He let go of her arm long enough to reach into his pocket and take out a handful of change. He dropped it into a panhandler's cup in a gesture so automatic that Rachel a.s.sumed he made a habit of it. "I figure if they could turn me from a green recruit into a sailor in about the same amount of time, I have a pretty good shot at this."

"Do you miss it?" She tilted her head up to his. "Being at sea?"

"Not so much anymore. Sometimes I still wake up at night and think I'm aboard ship." Then there were the nightmares, but that wasn't something a man shared with a woman. "Once things are stable, I'm planning on buying a boat, maybe taking a couple of months and sailing down to the Islands. Maybe a nice ketch, forty-two feet-not too fancy." He could already see it, a trim little honey, quick to the touch, bra.s.s and mahogany gleaming, white sails bulging in the wind. He imagined Rachel would look just fine standing at the bow. "You ever done any sailing?"

"Not unless you count taking the ferry over to Liberty Island."