The Donovans: Pleasured By A Donovan Part 5

Trent chuckled. "Never that. There must be another reason. When's the last time you've tried to take her out?"

"Law school," Ben admitted. "Look, I like to limit my rejection to first and second helpings. After that, I kindly move on. But since we're both attorneys, I've seen her a lot over the years either in court or at lawyer functions with the bar or other ent.i.ties."

"Doesn't sound like anything that would interest Vega," Devlin replied.

"That's exactly what I was thinking. So right now we don't know why Vega killed Ebony or why he sent me the note to let me know where her body was. And we don't know why he's messing with Victoria," Trent said.

"Right," Ben nodded. "So let's go with what we do know. Vega killed Ebony, else how could he have sent me the note telling me where the body is? Vega wasn't happy that I wouldn't take his case again. Vega wasn't happy to see me in the courtroom. And Vega is definitely connected to what happened at Victoria's. The gray Lexus is proof of that."

"So, he's definitely aiming at you. He's p.i.s.sed that you wouldn't take his case and attacking you from all directions. Does your police buddy knows all this?" Trent asked, rubbing a hand across his chin.

"Noah's a good guy. We went to college together. He's solid," Ben said, knowing where Trent was going with his question.

"Solid cops get bought off all the time," was Devlin's reply.

"Noah's helping me with the case," Ben argued.

"But he hasn't made an arrest even though he knows about the gray Lexus being at two crime scenes and about the note Vega allegedly sent to you telling you the location of a dead body?" Trent asked. Then he waited for Ben to answer.

But Ben didn't have an answer.

"Vega's a slippery character. I had a h.e.l.l of a time planting enough doubt in the first jury's mind. The missing witness I think was key. If Victoria doesn't find that witness, she's not going to have much luck. In the meantime, if Noah comes up with more to connect Vega to Ebony's murder, that's another charge they can go after him on," he told them.

"And possibly lose," Devlin stated. "Vega needs to go down hard and quick, just like he takes people out. The justice system may not prevail on this one."

Ben had stood, tired of this meeting and the issues running through his mind. "Let's just stick with the justice system for now. That's what I do."

Devlin stood also. "Well, you know what I do."

Ben nodded. "Yeah, I know and you do it so well you scare me half the d.a.m.n time."

The corner of his mouth twitched and Ben knew that was as close as he was going to get to a smile from Devlin Bonner.

"Devlin's going to keep an eye on you and we'll set something up for the prosecutor. You and Noah work the justice system and I'll work the back end to see if there's any loophole we need to fill to make sure this guy goes down once and for all. That sound good to you?" Trent asked.

"Sure," was Ben's half-hearted reply. He didn't want to know what lengths Devlin and Trent would go to in order to take Vega down. And he wanted to trust the justice system that he loved so much, but as he walked out of the offices of D&D Investigations, he had to admit that his faith in that system had begun to waiver.

And that hadn't just happened with these latest events. Ben had been wary of the justice system doing its job right around the time he got wind of what might be the reason the Congressman and his wife had been killed.

CHAPTER 8.

Victoria had a headache. She'd had one since last night, since right before the tear gas came flying through her living room window like a scene from some television crime drama.

She'd been discharged from the hospital around noon, after a long night of nurses interrupting her each time she tried to drift to sleep, checking everything from her temperature to how many fingers she could see in front of her. For all the interruptions and the headache they'd failed to treat, she could have come home last night.

Upon release, she'd had to deal with her mother, who in all her well-meaning, overprotective, overbearing and just generally hovering nature, pushed her headache to another level. The level which had her right eye twitching-an action added to the still bloodshot look she was sporting in both eyes. After three hours of Naomi's picking up this, moving that, telling her this, warning her about that, asking her about...him, she'd finally left. And Victoria had breathed a sigh of relief.

Her living room window had been fixed by the time she arrived home. She hadn't asked why or by whom, because she knew. But she was too tired to deal with it. Dinner hadn't gone well, even though Naomi cooked perfect lasagna each and every time. Her stomach was having its own issues, separate and apart from the hospital stay and the tear gas.

Finally when even work held no appeal, Victoria had taken a long bath and was just about to climb into bed to do...what? She had no idea. She had a sinking suspicion sleep was also going to be an enemy tonight. Especially when the door bell rang.

Cursing would seem cliche, so she didn't bother. Stomping down the steps to show her irritation would be childish and would most likely jack her headache up to even higher heights. As she walked to the door, dej vu had her halting and she gritted her teeth-because she couldn't find anything wrong with that action. Taking a deep breath and reciting the first line of the 23rd Psalm in her head, she opened the door.

Then sighed with relief.

And frowned with confusion.

"What are you doing here?"

"You keep asking me that," Ben replied.

She sighed once more, weary from last night, this morning, tonight... "Because you keep showing up where you don't belong."

"I keep showing up where I'm needed."

The laugh that escaped her sounded more like a nervous chuckle, one that sent slithers of pain to her temple. "I do not need you Ben Donovan. For some reason you have this demented belief that you are G.o.d's gift to this world. You've always had it. Some thought you would grow out of it. I knew you never would. Your kind never does. You're no longer a part of this case, and yet you show up in my courtroom. Some insane vandals attack my house and you show up. Now I'm trying to go to bed, to get myself together for work tomorrow and you show up again. Why? Just tell me why?"

He'd stood perfectly still the entire time she talked. Everything about her was gorgeous, but there was more. So much more beyond her physical attributes. In the eyes that had always intoxicated him, Ben saw fatigue and a little fear. It was with that in mind that he stepped into the doorway, into her personal s.p.a.ce. Another woman might have stepped back, but not Victoria. She stood her ground, tilting her head back slightly to keep eye contact with him.

"Because I can't stay away from you," he told her honestly.

Victoria was smart, graduated fourth in their cla.s.s in law school type of smart, and she was tenacious and decisive. She had integrity oozing from her pores and unhappiness creeping up her neck to settle-as he presumed from the twitching of her eye-in her temples, creating one h.e.l.l of a tension headache.

"What you've done has plagued me for years, Victoria. I have absolutely no explanation for why I can't stay away from you or what you're doing with your life. None at all. But here's what I can tell you-I really like looking at you. And last night when I looked at you lying on that gurney, blood freckling your face, I wanted to kill someone. That makes me believe that my fixation with you has taken a really big step, one I can no longer ignore."

She shook her head. "You're crazy."

It was Ben's turn to laugh and since she had yet to tell him to get out of her house, he closed her front door, secured the locks. "I've been called a lot of things before. Crazy's not one of them, but I'll accept it."

"I meant what I said," she told him, "I do not need you here."

"Humor me then. I just want to make sure you're alright."

Folding her arms over her chest, she looked at him with impatience. "I'm fine."

"You're tired."

She nodded. "Yes, I am. That's why I was about to go to bed."

"Have you had dinner?"

"I tried but I wasn't really hungry," she said without thinking, then snapped her lips shut. He almost smiled, but that would have certainly irritated her more.

"You should eat. Taking pain medication on an empty stomach is not a good idea."

"I haven't taken any pain medication and don't plan to."

"Then how do you expect the headache to go away?"

Ben had already walked through her living room and was moving through the dining room when she caught up with him.

"I didn't tell you I had a headache and, wait a minute, where are you going? This is my house, Ben. You don't rule here."

"No, I don't," he told her. "And believe me, the last thing I would do is try to rule over you. I'm just trying to help, so it would be nice if you decided to relax and let me do that."

"People allow help when they need it and..."

"I know you don't need me," he finished. "Again, I'll ask that you just humor me. Maybe I'm the one who can't sleep until I know for sure you're okay. So if I can feed you and medicate you and tuck you safely into bed, maybe I'll feel better and I can go home and go to bed."

She tapped her foot on the floor in her fluffy white slippers. He noticed, not for the first time but again, that she wore a nightshirt, a purple nightshirt that skimmed her knees and nothing else.

"If I eat and take an aspirin, will that be enough to appease this guilt trip you seem to be on?"

Inwardly Ben smiled. It wasn't easy for her to give in. Later he'd give himself a point for achieving that magnificent feat. Right now, he sensed it was more to get him out of her hair as soon as possible than anything else.

Giving credit where it was due, she was absolutely right about one thing. He was guilty. So guilty he'd almost choked on it all day while he'd tried convincing himself that coming to see her was a very bad idea.

"You cooked?" he asked after he'd moved into the kitchen to see a dish of something wrapped in foil on top of the stove.

"I forgot to put that away. She would have a fit if she saw that," Victoria said.

"'She' meaning your mother, I presume?" he asked even though he'd figured on the answer. Her kitchen was small compared to his, but definitely homelier with its warm beige walls and friendly yellow curtains. There was an island in its center with a vase full of fresh flowers, a stack of cloth napkins and two placemats that matched the checkered pattern of the curtains.

Victoria nodded. "She loves to cook. Lasagna's her specialty."

Lifting the foil from the dish and inhaling deeply, Ben replied, "And it appears she does a great job. How about I heat us both up a bowl?"

While he was salivating over the lasagna, she'd already moved to the cabinets-light oak polished until they practically gleamed-and had two plates in her hand as she looked over her shoulder at him. "Right, because both of us need to eat to ensure that I'm alright."

Ben shrugged, not in the least bit offended by being caught. "My mother always told me never let a woman eat alone."

She smiled.

And the tense atmosphere that he'd walked into dissipated. His gut had also suffered what seemed like a terrific sucker punch at the sight, but he chose to ignore that.

"So you're a mama's boy?" she asked while she sat back in the chair watching him devour his second helping of lasagna.

He didn't look like he had a big appet.i.te. His body was fit, muscled, toned to the point where he looked absolutely delicious in his clothes, whether dressy or casual. The khakis and black t-shirt he sported tonight looked as if it had been painted on his sculpted chest. He was gorgeous.

Victoria liked to think she was a realist. She didn't believe in fantasies, didn't indulge in meaningless fairy tales. The fact that Ben Donovan was an attractive specimen was a given. She could admit that and not feel an ounce of guilt. And before thirty minutes ago, she would have firmly believed he was an arrogant, egotistical a.s.s most of the time. Now, however, she was seeing another side of him.

"I wouldn't say that. I adore my mother and so does my brother. She dotes on both of us, even though we're adults. My dad just shakes his head at the three of us most of the time. I'd say we just love each other a lot. Kind of like you and your mother."

She'd watched him talk, watched his lips move over shockingly white teeth, the muscles in his jaw tick as he took another spoonful of food. His eyes were dark, almost black, but still held a warmth she hadn't considered he possessed.

"My mother and I are very close," she admitted. Never in her wildest dreams had Victoria thought she'd be sitting in her kitchen talking about family with Ben Donovan. "Especially since my dad died."

"I'm sorry about that," he told her, and she got the sense he knew exactly what had happened to her father. Why he would know didn't make sense, but then again nothing about this man was adding up into the neat little column she'd placed him in.

Shaking her head, she said something else that surprised her. "Tell me more about your family."

He took a drink of the iced tea she'd poured for them both. "We have a very large family. Some of us are here and some are in Washington, Texas, Miami. We're all spread out," he told her. "But we get together at least once a year to catch up."

"Like a family reunion. I've never been to one of those before." And making that statement made her realize she really wanted to.

"Your family doesn't get together?"

"It's just me and my mother. She has some family back east, but we rarely hear from them, let alone see them."

"Family should always keep in touch," he said earnestly.

"Your family is not like most," she said, reaching out to pick up her own gla.s.s even though she didn't want to take a drink. She just needed something to do with her hands.

"I could take you to a family dinner if you want. That'll prepare you for the reunion. We can be a bit overwhelming," he told her and took another bite of food.

She did take a drink then and looked at him with consideration as she put her gla.s.s down on the table. "You're very presumptuous."

"Really? I'd call it optimistic," he said with a smile as he swallowed the last bit of his food.

His skin was the tone of tree bark, smooth and alluring. Her fingers tingled as she thought of rubbing them along his biceps, over his strong shoulders.

Shaking her head, she resisted closing her eyes to get the visual out of her head. "No, you presume too much. If you wanted me to go to your family dinner you would have asked me and hoped I'd say yes. Instead, you tell me that I'm going like it's already been settled. Presumptuous."

He laughed. His head tilted and a deep, full-bodied sound filled her kitchen. She was certain that had never happened before.

"You've always been so intense. Every question has an answer, every answer an explanation. Sometimes things just are, Victoria."

"Not without a reason," she added, shaking her head. "So what's your reason for being so presumptuous? You came over here tonight expecting what, to get lucky?"

"Whoa? Where did that come from?"

"I'm just getting the small talk out of the way. I mean, you've been here for almost forty-five minutes now. You've eaten, I've eaten, we're talking, so what's next? I have to ask since I know you think you know the next step."

He shook his head. "I came here to check on you. This dinner was an added bonus and I'll be sending your mother a bouquet of her favorite flowers tomorrow to thank her."

"You don't know her favorite flower," she said sarcastically.

"Touche, but I was going to ask you before I left. And just for the record, I know you're favorite flower."

"You do not."