Chapter 6
An irritated frown touched his brow when the doorbell sounded. He was knee deep in witness statements and did not relish the interruption. A peek at the camera had his frown deepening. Jillian.
With a resigned sigh, he pushed away from his desk. He had come straight from the firm and grabbed takeout on his way to his place. His daily lady only comes three times a week and today was not one of her days. He was certainly not in the mood to fix himself something to eat.
The chicken Alfredo did nicely with a bottle of dark red. He was halfway to the front door when he remembered he had kicked off his shoes. The buttons of his navy blue shirt were undone.
With a shrug, he also recalled that Jillian was not company, she was family and would not mind his state of undress.
Punching in the code, he tugged open the heavy mahogany door. There she stood with glorious red hair spilling over her black knee length jacket.
"You certainly took your time." She murmured, sweeping past him.
One thick brow lifted as he shoved the door closed.
"Well, goodnight to you too." Andre muttered, irritation growing. "Did we have an appointment that I forgot?"
Turning to eye him over her shoulder, she smirked. "The day that Andre Blake forgets an appointment is the day they start putting heaters in hell. Meaning it would have frozen."
"I get the picture." His eyes flashed dangerously. "May I take your coat?"
"Maybe later." She started forward. "Offer me a glass of wine."
Tamping down impatience as well as irritation, he strode past her and into his office. Marching over to the cabinet, he selected a glass and poured wine from the bottle he had been drinking from.
Jillian watched him with part amusement and part dread.
She had gone with impulse and could see the impatience in every line of his long, lean body.
He wanted to boot her out, but Andre Blake was a stickler for being polite and courteous, even if it killed him.
She was about to shake up that calm composure that ensured his constant wins in the courtroom.
"Thank you."
With a curt nod, he went behind his desk. Files were stacked neatly on the left, with his phone, packets of paper clips, a stapler, a glass of unfinished wine and a paperweight Abigail had given him for Christmas.
"What're you working on?"
Leaning back in his chair, he arched a brow at her. "A case."
"Informative as usual." She could not settle. Suddenly she was wondering if this was such a good idea. She had had a crappy day at the hospital.
A pile up on the highway had caused several deaths, including a mother and her two year old toddler. Deaths, especially when it came to children, always got her at the heart.
"Jillian, how may I help you? I have work to finish up."
She turned to face him, the wine not settling well in her stomach.
"How long have we known each other?"
His frown came again.
"If this is a walk down memory lane, I prefer to skip it."
"The sooner you answer the question, counselor, the quicker we move the topic along."
He expelled a breath and glared at her.
"A lifetime."
"I need a number." She smiled sweetly when he snarled.
"Since bloody high school and that's all you're getting. What the hell is this about?"
"How well do you know me?"
He could swear he felt his blood boiling. He certainly felt his temper sizzling.
"Pretty well." He snapped.
"What do you think of me?"
He started to rise and thought better of it. If he moved towards her, he was going to commit murder and he was a goddamned lawyer. He needed his hands to be clean.
"That's enough." Somehow, he found temperance. Had to reach deep down for it. But it was there. "You have to go. I have work and don't have time for whatever this is."
"All right."
With a sigh of relief that this strange period was over, he pushed back his chair with the intention of showing her out.
"Just one thing."
"Jill..." He staggered back, actually stumbled back against the chair and felt every drop of blood draining from his head and pooling somewhere else. She had whipped off the coat.
And was wearing nothing under it except swatches of the most delicate and transparent scraps of black silk, frivolous really, revealing more than it hid.
Her skin was a creamy alabaster, found mostly in people with her coloring.
Wine red hair tumbled over one shoulder, but he could see the rosy tints of her nipples.
He went as hard as steel, instantly.
For a few heartbeats, neither of them spoke. The room seemed to shrink, charged with a tension that was almost palpable. He caught his breath, struggling to keep control, while she held his gaze, unflinching, almost daring him to respond.
The moment hovered between them, electric and uncertain, the boundaries they'd always observed suddenly obliterated.
He tried to speak, and it occurred to him vaguely that as a lawyer, he possessed a gift of the gab. Had to in his chosen profession and was usually damn good at it. But now he could not find the words.
His saliva had pooled and then dried up. And he was sweating.
"What..." He gestured with one hand as words completely failed him. And started to take a step back when she advanced. His body went into complete shock when she unhooked the scrap of lace bra and took it off.
He sat. Heavily. If he hadn't, he would have disgraced himself by falling on the floor.
Jillian's heart was pounding so loudly in her chest, she wondered it did not burst from its cage. He looked dazed, which she took to be a good sign.
"I was asking you those questions earlier to lead up to this." She was wearing just panties and her knee high boots. Sitting on the edge of his desk, she faced him.
"I've had a crush on you in high school, spilling into college. You never noticed me and I'm getting pretty impatient and frustrated and yes, damn jealous of seeing you with other women. I'm a doctor and it makes me want to commit murder."
"I see." He articulated carefully. If he moved towards her, he was going to rip her apart. Best to try and come to some sort of control.
He was normally a cautious man, urbane and sophisticated. He made love with a precise composure, making certain he paid special attention to the woman he was with and gave her pleasure. He was never rough, never behaved like an animal.
After all, he was a civilized human being. Only now, he wasn't. Thoughts of feasting on her nipples until they were sore raced through his mind.
"Well, we can..." He sucked in a breath as she eased up and shimmied out of the panties, dropping them to the floor.
"I want you to ravish me. Do things to me, Andre. All manner of things."
Well, what's a man supposed to do? The thought filtered through his mind before he shoved back the chair and did exactly what she demanded.
"I think I broke my cock." He muttered half an hour later.
Jillian's husky laughter burst out. Her body was flushed, and she was sore in places she never knew existed. But she felt wonderful.
"Let's check, shall we? After all, I am a doctor."
"You're a bloody witch." He growled. They had started on his office desk, tumbling files and other paraphernalia, before making their drunken way up the stairs and into his bedroom.
He had taken her twice and left marks on her delicate skin. He had never been this way with a woman before, and it appalled as well as excited him.
To his shocked surprise, he felt himself hardening again beneath her fingers.
"All good." She whispered as she straddled him. "Hmm, counselor, who knew." She sheathed him, long red hair streaming down her back, head tilted.
Rearing up, he cupped her breasts and felt the need sharpening.
"What have you done to me?" he wondered aloud.
"Drummed some sense into you." She slapped a hand on his muscular chest. "Ground rules."
"What?" He was throbbing. Her tightness vised around him.
"No other women."
His eyes flashed. "You don't get to dictate..."
"We're now exclusive and if I find you're banging that blonde bitch or anyone else, I will hurt you. I know how to do that without leaving any evidence."
His face went stony and he forgot about the desire pouring through him.
"Anything else?"
She knew that scrupulously polite tone meant he was about to tear a strip off her.
"Yep." She told him cheerfully, leaning forward. "Dinner, dates and gifts. We're in a relationship, an exclusive one."
"I don't appreciate..." He did not get to finish, and his train of thought left him completely when she started nibbling on his bottom lip. He was sunk.
*****
Arlene stood just inside the doorway and watched her daughter run her fingers over her granddaughter's hair. They had come home an hour ago, flushed from the excitement of spending time together. She loved her Zoe.
When Abby had finally come to them to say that she was pregnant, her initial reaction had been one of acute disappointment.
Especially when her daughter had confessed that it had been with a man she wasn't in a relationship with.
But they had supported her, and the birth of Zoe had cemented their adoration for the beautiful child.
The little girl had lit up their lives. Not only was she exceptionally beautiful, but she was also sweet and kind and vivacious and certainly smart. Arlene took her to church and spent as much time as possible with her.
Sometimes, Arlene wondered if Zoe understood just how special she was to all of them.
The little girl had a way of drawing people in, her laughter bubbling up like a soothing melody that filled every corner of the house.
Watching Abby with her daughter now, Arlene felt a deep gratitude for the family they had built together, even if it hadn't started in the most conventional way.
But they had come home to news that was troubling. She knew this day would come but had not expected it would be this soon. She had always contended that her daughter should tell the father.
Every parent had a right to know they had a child.