17. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
L una
A few seconds after Roman pushed me into my apartment and closed the door, Sylvie walked out of her room.
She studied my face, then hissed, “What did that fucker do to you?”
The adrenaline had dissipated, and I felt numb and tired. “Nothing.”
“I hung the fairy princess gown in your closet so Carl wouldn’t destroy it. Now talk to me. What happened?” She watched me carefully.
I pulled off my jacket and threw it on the couch, knowing I’d regret not hanging it up tomorrow when I had to pick cat hair off it. I trudged into the kitchen and started rummaging through the cupboards, looking for candy.
“Roman dumped me as his intern.” I found a half-empty box of Red Hots behind the oatmeal and threw a few in my mouth.
Sylvie followed me into the kitchen and stared at me. “What? That makes no sense whatsoever.” She held up a finger. “Wait. This calls for cheap wine. It’ll pair nicely with your cinnamon candy.” She poured two glasses, and we plopped onto the couch. “Okay. Start from the beginning.”
So I told her everything–about the internship and the partners, Lionel and Silas Strack, and Roman telling me he couldn’t be my mentor anymore. When I finished talking, my wine glass and the candy box sat empty.
Sylvie poured us more wine and sighed. “Well, I wasn’t wrong. This internship is a lot more exciting than one with Artie would have been. Do you like him?”
“Of course I like Arthur.” I knew she wasn’t talking about Artie.
“No, dumbass, Roman. Do you like him?”
“Sometimes. And other times, I wish I was an octopus so I had eight hands to smack his smug face with.”
“Don’t play dumb, you suck at it. Do you like him?”
I worried if I admitted it out loud, things would go from bad to worse. So I settled for something in between. “I refuse to like him. It’s an unethical, horrible idea. The man is my mentor, and I’m his intern. Or was. He may be hot, but he’s also moody, domineering, into BDSM–which I found out about tonight–and has more baggage than the lost-and-found at JFK.”
Sylvie laid her head on the back of the couch. “Denial is just a lie you tell yourself. You like him.”
“I can’t like him.” My voice sounded almost pleading. Carl must have felt my anxiety because he padded over and hopped on my lap, kneading my skirt with his one front paw. I scratched behind his ears as he purred loudly.
Sylvie stared down at him. “That cat is weird. I swear he barely tolerates us until we’re depressed or anxious, and then he’s right there. What’re you going to do?”
“What any smart woman would do. Stay far away from him and pretend he has the plague.”
On Monday, as I walked to Klim’s office before my first class, a sense of déjà vu floated through me. I’d come to Klim a few months ago for the same reason. Back then, I was angry and annoyed. Now I felt conflicted and sad. His door stood open and he sat at his desk, drinking coffee and studying his computer screen.
“Hello, Klim.”
He looked up and pulled his glasses off. “Luna. I thought I’d see you today. What’s going on with you and Roman?”
“We’re ending our internship.”
“Tell me the truth. Did something happen?”
“No, and don’t make it weird. I swear the man hates me and barely tolerates having me around. It’s just… time.”
Klim set his coffee down. “He said Ivan is taking over.”
I rolled my eyes. “Klim, I like you. In fact, you’ve done more for me than my own parents ever did. If you hadn’t reached out about that scholarship, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” I looked at my feet and blinked a few times. “Anyway, thank you. But let’s get real here. Ivan isn’t even a practicing attorney. He’s more like their NSA, or central intelligence.”
Klim smiled briefly. “That's an interesting analogy and more on-point than you know. I’ll make a deal with you. Let’s give it a week with Ivan, and if you still can’t stomach interning there, I’ll give you credit for the time you’ve spent there and call Arthur myself to help smooth your way. Alright?”
The man was trying to drag it out, and I didn’t know why. “You don’t need to smooth anything over with Arthur. Why are you stalling?”
“I’ll help you in one week, but not before then. And I don’t know what you mean.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Sure you don’t. One week, but you call Gideon and tell him I drive myself from now on.”
Mondays were always busy, and they seemed to go by quickly. But not today. By the time I walked out of the law school, I had a pounding stress headache I’d barely been able to touch with two ibuprofen and an energy drink.
On Tuesday morning, I got to the offices just before eight.
Gideon sat at his desk, and he looked up when I walked in. “Good morning. How was your weekend?”
“I think you already know. I’ve been dumped onto Ivan, so where do you want me? It’ll only be for a few days, then Klim promised I could mentor with Arthur Thorgeson starting next week.”
Gideon pointed to the small office I’d already been using. “The same spot. I don’t think much has changed.” He studied me for a few seconds. “May I give you some advice?”
“Please.”
He looked at me placidly. “Don’t poke the bear today.” I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but his phone rang.
I’d beat the partners to work this morning. Roman’s office was still dark, so I shut the connecting door, put on my noise-canceling headphones, and worked on a few motions. When I looked up again, the connecting door was open and Roman stood in the doorway, watching me. “Hello, Luna. Are you done pouting?”
I pulled off my headphones, sucked in a breath, and exhaled on the count of five. “My weekend was fine and no, I’m not done pouting. Are you done being an asshole?”
His eyes lit and he straightened. “I told you that mouth would get you in trouble one day.”
I stood. “But not today. Oh, look at the time. I need to get to class.” I drank him in as he stood there with that strand of hair hanging over his forehead and his dark, piercing gaze. Why was I so drawn to him of all people? I shoved my computer and pens into my backpack.
“Your class doesn’t start for almost two hours, and we want to discuss our latest project with you.”
My head came up. “What latest project?” My stupid curiosity.
“Come find out.” He nodded his head toward his office.
Ivan sat in one of Roman’s client chairs, and he gave me an obnoxious finger wave. I slowly put my backpack and phone back down on my desk and entered his office. Roman shut the connecting door behind me.
Ivan studied me, and this time his face remained serious. No smirks, annoying grins, or little digs. “I hear you met Silas Strack the other night. Be careful, the Stracks aren’t playing with a full deck.”
Roman leaned against his desk. “He’s right. Don’t go anywhere alone, and if you see anything out of the ordinary or something doesn’t feel right, get out.”
“I don’t know why they’d come after me, but I’ll be careful.” I squinted at them. “What do you know that I don’t?”
Ivan’s lip tipped up. “A lot of things, and most of them would make you blush.” Strangely, his comment made me relax a little. This was the Ivan I knew and mostly disliked.
Roman gazed at me, his eyes drifting down to my clenched hands. Then he held out a bowl of… cinnamon bears?
I automatically took one and bit its legs off. “Why do you have cinnamon bears on your desk?”
Ivan chuckled and Roman shrugged. “Let’s discuss our latest development. Ivan is your official interim mentor, but you’ll be assigned another one shortly. We’ll also be expanding our legal practice over the next month to include another area of law.”
My mind started sifting through the possibilities. “Criminal law? You could represent each other that way. It would save you a lot of money.” I popped the rest of the candy in my mouth.
Ivan stared at me. “That’s not a bad idea.”
I’d been kidding. “It doesn’t matter. Klim said he’d move me next week. If you prefer, we could call this my last day.”
Ivan grinned. “Nice try.”
“If you’re still holding out for Arthur Thorgeson, he’s coming here.” Roman informed me, watching my face carefully. “After listening to you discuss water law issues and the amount of money involved, we decided to bring him on board to mentor another attorney before he retires.”
“The Firm is buying Artie’s practice out, and you’re branching into water law?” I asked slowly.
Roman nodded. “We researched it, and you’re right—it’s important, and there’s a fuck-ton of money involved.”
“Why?”
“I just explained it to you.”
My mind took a few seconds to process what he was telling me, and then anger started to bubble in my chest as I stood. “On Saturday night, you told me you didn’t want to be my mentor anymore. And when I informed you I’d finish my internship with Thorgeson, you decided to buy him out. Why are you doing this?”
“Ivan, give us a minute.” Ivan stood and headed to the door, shaking his head as he walked out.
I folded my arms. “I’m done playing your games. Why are you trying to ruin my life? What do you want?”
Roman straightened and stood in front of me. “I want everything,” he murmured.
The intent in his gaze was clear this time, and naked, predatory lust stared back at me. I slowly licked my lips, as if trying to taste his phantom touch. Why did I have to be attracted to this fucking man ? He insulted me, ran roughshod over my wishes, and seemed to enjoy frustrating and mocking me. But he also stimulated my mind and answered my questions, and the sparks between us burned white hot. Roman reached out and grasped my suit jacket, gently pulling me closer. My breath quickened and my pulse hiccupped.
Gazing up at him, I carefully rested my hands on his arms. “What does that mean?” I whispered.
His sculpted biceps felt hard and warm through the fabric of his dress shirt, and his heady scent surrounded me. He leaned in. “I want you, and I plan to have you. But I don’t want guilt, repercussions, or consequences to cloud this, so you’re no longer my intern, and I’m not your official mentor anymore.”
“But… you hate me.”
He shook his head and pulled me closer, pressing my breasts against him. “I tried to, but I don’t. We’ll spend time together outside work. We’re also going to fuck, Luna, many times, in every position, and on every feasible surface.”
“You give me whiplash,” I whispered. “You don’t like me, but you still want to have sex with me?”
I pulled back and searched his eyes. He grasped my face, running his thumbs across my cheeks. “I don’t hate you, Sweetness. And yes, I absolutely want to fuck you.”
Roman leaned in slowly and ran his mouth along my jaw, causing goosebumps to erupt across my skin and making my nipples go stiff.
“Oh, God,” I whispered.
I felt him smile as he ran his lips across mine, and then he kissed me. Soft and probing at first, but when I opened my mouth to him, he surged inside. I whimpered as his tongue breached my lips.
Roman tilted my chin up and devoured my mouth, our tongues tangling as heat slashed through my core. He pulled back but kept his mouth on mine, then dragged my jacket halfway down, trapping my arms. His hands slid up and cupped my breasts, palming and squeezing them just enough to ache. I moaned into his mouth at the contact as I arched into his touch. The feeling of being bound while he plundered my mouth made my heart race, and when his fingers brushed across my nipples, sharp need and hot lust sliced through me. He worked his mouth down my neck and ran his tongue along the hollow of my throat as he expertly undid the buttons on my shirt.
When he peeled it back, uncovering my flesh-colored lace bra beneath, he looked down and groaned low. “Jesus Christ, you’re magnificent.”
He licked across my hard nipples through the lace, then bit down. My hips bucked against him as his cell phone rang on his desk. I crashed back to reality, remembering where we were.
As if sensing the change, his head came up and he studied my face. Slowly, he buttoned my shirt up and pulled my jacket back in place, freeing my arms.
“This is happening,” he murmured, ignoring his phone.
My heart pounded so hard in my chest it almost hurt. “You think so?” His arrogance pricked me, but my raspy voice took the bite out of my words.
His lips pressed together as if trying to suppress a smile, and he reached over to adjust my collar. “Yes, Sweetness, I do.”