Chapter 8
Daniela was surprised, and more than a little relieved, when they made it out of the building and to the parking lot without encountering Shara Adler.
“We can take my car,” she told Caleb. She glanced at the matte-black helmet tucked beneath his arm, then added hopefully, “Unless you want to take me for a spin on your Ducati?”
He looked down at her tight skirt, his eyes darkening. “You’re not exactly dressed for it,” he said gruffly.
Daniela swallowed, tingling from the heat of his brief perusal. “Guess not.”
They reached her car, a silver Audi convertible that gleamed in the morning sunlight. Caleb ran an appreciative eye over the sleek, classic contours of the vehicle. “Nice.”
“Thanks. I like it, too.” She unlocked the doors and dropped her laptop and backpack into the backseat next to Caleb’s helmet and messenger bag. As she slid into the car beside him, she saw that his legs were too long in the confined space, his knees colliding with the dashboard.
“Sorry about that,” she said, grinning as he adjusted the red leather passenger seat. “The last person who rode with me was my mother, and she’s only five-two.”
He smiled a little. “How tall are you?”
“Five-seven.” She started the car and reversed out of the tight parking space. “From what I understand, my father was very tall, and that’s where I get my height from, as well as his complexion. He passed away when I was a baby.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Caleb said quietly.
“Thanks. In a way it was both a blessing and a curse that I was too young to remember him.”
Caleb nodded. “I can understand that.”
Daniela maneuvered through the parking lot bustling with students and faculty, and turned left at the first intersection.
“How long have you been teaching at Northbridge?” she asked conversationally, though she already knew the answer.
Might as well get used to pretending not to know certain details about him.
“Five years.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him studying her profile. “Are you originally from San Antonio?”
She nodded. “You?”
“Born and raised.”
“Ever wanted to live anywhere else?”
“Can’t say that I have. You?”
“Not a chance.” She slanted him a whimsical smile. “Guess we’re kindred souls.”
He chuckled low in his throat and shifted in his seat, heightening her awareness of him.
He smelled yummy, like warm male skin and fresh soap scented with a hint of sandalwood.
She drew in a deep lungful and fought to keep her mind on the road, and not the way his jeans molded the iron-hard muscles of his thighs.
God, what she wouldn’t give to straddle those thighs just once.
Okay, maybe twice. Anything more was just being greedy.
“You do know there’s a coffee shop on campus,” he drawled. “And a Starbucks right around the corner.”
“Yeah, but I figured you might prefer to go somewhere less…populated by your students and colleagues.”
His mouth twitched with wry humor. “If I was afraid to be seen in public with you, Miss Moreau, believe me, I wouldn’t be here. Maybe you’re the one who’s afraid to be seen with me.”
“No way,” Daniela said quickly—too quickly.
A lazy smile was his only response.
Two minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of Anthony O’s Coffeehouse and killed the engine. Together they climbed out of the convertible and walked toward the café.
Caleb held the door open for her and she brushed past him, the brief contact raising a prickly set of goose bumps along her skin. When she looked over her shoulder to thank him, she found his hooded gaze on her mouth.
She trembled, actually trembled, and somehow forced her legs to keep moving toward the hostess station.
At that early hour, the café wasn’t crowded. Natural light poured in through floor-to-ceiling windows, and soft jazz wafted throughout the dining room that featured an inviting turquoise color scheme.
They were shown to a booth near the back and presented with menus. Caleb ordered a cup of the house blend along with the beignet Daniela had promised.
“I’ll have an espresso,” she told the young blond waitress, “and a small serving of vanilla ice cream.”
When the waitress slipped away to fill their orders, Caleb cocked an amused brow at Daniela. “Coffee and ice cream?”
She grinned. “Ever tried it?”
“No.”
“You should. It’s one of those simple pleasures everyone should experience at some point in their lives. Like watching a sunset…or riding a motorcycle.”
Caleb chuckled, leaning back in the booth. His Henley stretched across his wide shoulders and broad chest, displaying defined muscles that bunched and rippled enticingly. “Still lobbying for that free ride, huh?”
Her grin widened. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. I’m nothing if not persistent.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that.” With his arms spread over the back of the leather cushions behind him, he looked relaxed and content, not to mention heartthrob-sexy.
His thick brows, black-lashed eyes and perfectly sculpted beard only heightened his utter maleness. The badass tattoo didn’t hurt, either.
“Nice ink,” Daniela said, hitching her chin toward his right hand. “Is that a Komodo dragon?”
He nodded.
“Very cool.” She studied the intricately drawn dragon, brilliant in dark blue and smoky gray. Her fingers tingled with the urge to trace the tattoo and the warm flesh beneath. “Any special significance?”
“Does there have to be?”
“No, but there usually is.”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “It’s not that deep. I like Komodo dragons. Thought it’d be cool to have one tattooed on my hand.”
Daniela sensed there was more to the story, and she wanted to probe deeper. But he smoothly turned the tables on her.
“Why do you want to be a lawyer, Miss Moreau?”
“Please, call me Daniela.” At his guarded look, she hastened to add, “At least outside the classroom. It feels weird to be on such formal terms over a friendly cup of coffee. Please?”
He hesitated, then gave a slight nod. “All right. Now, tell me why you want to be an attorney. What was your major in college?”
“Accounting.” It was another detail, like her first name, that she and her brothers had decided not to fabricate. The less she lied about, the less risk she ran of blowing her cover. Theoretically, anyway.
“I earned a bachelor’s degree in accounting, became a CPA and went to work for a large accounting firm. But after just three years, I knew it wasn’t for me.”
“How did you know?”
Something in his gentle tone made her want to tell him everything—about the long nights, demanding clients, unscrupulous bosses. About the tears of frustration she’d shed on the way home, then quickly scraped away before going inside the house so her mother wouldn’t notice and worry even more.
“I was unhappy,” she said simply. “The reason I became a CPA was that I’d always been good at math, so it seemed the natural choice for me to go into accounting.
And, quite honestly, I wanted to make a lot of money—and I did.
Enough to buy my dream house, that sweet little convertible and a wardrobe full of designer clothes. ”
“But it wasn’t enough for you,” Caleb said quietly.
“No, it wasn’t.” A sardonic smile curved her mouth. “When the whole Berkshire financial scandal broke, I realized that what had happened to those employees could just as easily happen to me. The next day, I walked into my boss’s office and handed him my resignation letter.”
“That took a lot of guts,” Caleb said in a voice laced with admiration.
She shrugged. “Not really. I should’ve done it a lot sooner.”
Caleb nodded slowly. “So what have you been doing since then?”
“Freelancing. Preparing taxes, doing bookkeeping—stuff like that.”
The waitress materialized with their orders, setting each item carefully on the table. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” she inquired, looking at Caleb.
He shook his head, and Daniela asked, “May I have a spoon?”
“Oh. Sorry.” The girl fumbled out a set of napkin-wrapped silverware from her apron pocket and passed it to Daniela without ever taking her baby blues off Caleb and his ripped muscles. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”
His mouth twitched. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Okay. Well, just let me know if there’s anything else you need. Anything at all.”
“Will do,” he said with a wink that made the girl blush and smile. “Thanks again.”
Daniela shook her head at Caleb as the starry-eyed waitress reluctantly moved on to the next customer. “Is it just me,” she muttered, “or do you seem to have a brain-melting effect on every woman that crosses your path?”
He took a sip of steaming coffee, dark eyes glinting with amusement over the rim. “How would you know that? We’ve been acquainted all of, what, two days?”
“Three days. I met you bright and early on Monday morning.”
“Not so early,” he pointed out dryly. “You were ten minutes late to my class.”
“Semantics.”
He laughed, a strong, deep sound that rumbled up from his chest and curled Daniela’s toes inside her wood-heeled Jimmy Choo sandals. “You’re going to make a fine lawyer someday, Miss Moreau,” he drawled, a smirk on those kissable lips.
“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” she quipped, enjoying the repartee so much that she didn’t bother correcting him on the formal address. She spooned vanilla ice cream into her mouth, then followed up with a sip of espresso.
A deep, languorous sigh escaped her lips. “Mmm-mmm.”
Caleb was watching her, cup halfway to his mouth. “That good, huh?” His voice sounded rough, tight.
Daniela nodded, grinning. “It’s a sensory thing. You know, the combination of rich, hot coffee mixed with sweet, cold ice cream. Mmm, heavenly. You should try it.”
He shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“Come on, try it,” Daniela coaxed, holding out a spoonful of ice cream to him. “I think you’ll really like it. Try it. I insist.”
Caleb hesitated, then leaned forward to accept the sweet offering. As she slid the spoon into his mouth, she was caught off guard by the sudden heat that bloomed in her belly and spread outward like a slow, thick liquid, dampening her panties.
Her heart thundered at the very male look that filled Caleb’s eyes as he watched her watching him. Slowly he ran his tongue over the masculine curve of his bottom lip, removing traces of the creamy concoction.
“You’re right,” he said silkily. “It is good.”
Daniela’s breasts felt tight and achy against her lace bra.
Without thinking, she drew the spoon into her own mouth and licked off any residual vanilla ice cream, imagining she could taste him.
It was one of the most erotic experiences she’d ever had.
The only thing that’d be more erotic would be Caleb licking ice cream from her body, trailing a sticky path down between her thighs and burying his tongue deep, deep inside her.
She shivered hard, her nipples pearling. “You, uh, were supposed to take a sip of coffee right afterward,” she said huskily. “To get the full effect.”
Caleb’s eyes darkened, stoking the flames already building within her. “I think I did.”
Her pulse went berserk and so did her breath, his words sending a thrill of illicit pleasure to her core. Another minute of this, and she’d be begging him to drag her into a bathroom stall and fuck her hard against the wall.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—he chose that moment to glance at his watch and clear his throat. “Let’s talk about your case brief.”
As opposed to having hot, kinky sex in a public restroom.
Biting back a sigh of regret, Daniela reached into her handbag on the seat beside her.
As she rummaged around for a pen and the small notebook she’d brought to take notes, Caleb’s gaze wandered to the flatscreen television mounted in a nearby corner of the restaurant.
A KSAT-12 news anchor was reporting on the early-morning indictment of a local labor union boss.
Carlito “Lito” Olivares, president of the Oil Refineries Workers Union, had been charged with embezzling over three million dollars from various employers represented by his union.
Shaking her head in disgust, Daniela was about to make a scathing comment when something in Caleb’s demeanor stopped her. There was a deep furrow between his brows, and he was gripping his coffee cup so hard, she worried it would shatter in his big hand.
With mounting curiosity, she looked at the television, then back at Caleb. What was going on here?
One of the waiters turned up the volume on the television.
“…is also charged with defrauding the union by submitting false entertainment vouchers, using union funds to purchase personal airline tickets and billing the organization for $50,000 in personal telephone calls made on a union-issued cell phone. Olivares is expected to enter a not-guilty plea at next week’s arraignment.
We’re also getting word, from sources close to the Olivares camp, that legal heavyweight Crandall Thorne may soon step in to represent Olivares on this case. ”
Daniela snapped to attention. Crandall Thorne was going to defend the corrupt labor union boss? Was that why Caleb looked so ominous? Did he have a problem with his father representing Olivares? Or did he disagree with Olivares’s indictment?
When Caleb returned his gaze to hers, his face was devoid of expression. Calmly he took a sip of coffee and set the cup back down on the table.
Daniela studied him carefully. “Crandall Thorne is your father, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” He nodded toward the notebook in front of her, making it clear he didn’t want to discuss the matter further. “What can I help you with?”
Daniela wanted to press him for more information, but she knew she wouldn’t get very far.
Reminding herself once again that it would take time to win his trust, she launched into a detailed explanation of the problems she was having with her case brief.