Chapter 5 Ben #2
Ramone Vega was a killer. There wasn’t an ounce of her that didn’t believe that.
His attorney, Helmer, was a self-centered ass who loved the media about as much as he loved cream-filled donuts, and neither one of them ever depicted him in a positive light.
He would make this trial a circus, she was sure.
There was already a crowd of reporters and photographers waiting outside the courtroom for them.
With her briefcase in one hand Victoria lifted another arm to shield herself from all the microphones being shoved in her face. Cameras flashed and she blinked rapidly. Questions were fired at her and all she replied was, “No comment.”
At some point Jules or the DA would have a press conference.
She’d be required to attend but she wouldn’t talk.
She never did. Her legs moved swiftly toward the elevators where she jabbed a finger into the button praying it could tell she was desperate and hurry to open the doors.
A few seconds later, she figured she should be thankful part of her prayer was answered, except it came with a price.
“Back up, back up,” he said in that loud, commanding voice he possessed.
She’d heard it a couple times over the years as she’d walked past a courtroom that he was in.
And yes, she’d sneaked a peek in those moments because she couldn’t resist the temptation of seeing him again.
This, however, was a different circumstance and he was no longer across the room from her.
No, this time Benjamin Donovan was standing right beside her.
The elevator door opened and he moved her inside with a hand to the small of her back and a little push.
“She said no comment, people. Can’t you take a hint?” was his parting shot as he held a hand up to stop another reporter who was bold enough to try and board the elevator with them.
Thankfully the doors finally closed and Victoria leaned against the back wall. “Thank you,” she murmured without looking at him because to do so would only aggravate the constant war she fought with despising and being physically attracted to him.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “It’s going to be worse when the trial actually starts. Maybe you should see if someone could sit second chair with you, preferably a man that can put some distance between you and the other attorneys.”
What? Did he just imply that she needed a man to protect her?
Victoria took a deep breath, released it slowly as she glared into the eyes of the man who had haunted her dreams for longer than she could remember.
And yes, she meant haunted, because Ben Donovan was not the man for her, he was not the man she should be dreaming about, or secretly wanting. He wasn’t a man that she could have.
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” she replied in a frosty tone.
He didn’t even flinch at her words. She’d actually had men flinch when she’d used her frosty tone on them, usually when she was turning them down from some pitiful line they’d tried to use on her. But she should’ve remembered Ben wasn’t that type, he wasn’t her type.
He smiled. “Not a bodyguard, just somebody to deflect some of these people. I know the DA’s office has a spokesperson. Maybe she could come down at the end of each day to make a statement so they won’t hound you.”
“I can take it,” she told him, and then saw that the destination of the elevator had not been selected.
She moved forward to do so, but that meant brushing past him.
And when she did…oh, why the hell did she have to do that?
His cologne smelled too good. The charcoal gray suit he wore fit his toned frame too well.
His deep mocha skin was too alluring, and those root beer brown eyes were too knowing.
Sprinkles of heat rained over her, drenching her in arousal and need.
“I’m just trying to help,” he said, staring down at her.
She swallowed and looked up. She had no other choice; (1) he was taller than her and (2) she’d be damned if she let him know just how much his proximity affected her.
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
He nodded. And still smiled, that amenable smile that always came across as too attractive to really be condescending. Damn, she didn’t like this man. Or at least, she didn’t want to like him.
“You didn’t. But I like to look out for my colleagues and my friends.”
“We’re not friends,” she snapped.
He shrugged. “We could’ve been.”
If she weren’t such a bitch. He didn’t say it but the words were clear in his eyes. It was okay, she could take it. What she couldn’t take was what a man like him could do to her in the long run.
“This is my floor,” she said when the elevator doors opened.
Then, because she wasn’t totally oblivious to what he was trying to do and how much sense his words had actually made, she paused, looked over her shoulder and said, “I’ll call the administrative office to see about having a spokesperson on hand during the trial. ”
He didn’t say another word, which he could have, and she actually expected.
He simply nodded. When she walked away and heard the elevator doors close behind her, she thought about his smile and how it made her feel like forgetting all the promises she’d made to herself to protect her heart at all costs.