CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ZANDER
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“He said what?!” Courtney cries.
The wine she’s pouring slops everywhere. I round the kitchen bench and take it from her. I did warn her to sit down, but she insisted on pouring us a glass of merlot.
“Let me do this.”
“I didn’t steal anything,” she continues as I mop up the spill with paper towels.
“Good. Then we’ll get a forensic accountant and ask for the documentation to disprove it,” I say, throwing the paper towels into the trash, then lift the glass and pass it to her. “Drink.”
Her eyes shift to mine, and I see worry lining her face. I don’t blame her. Being accused of stealing marital assets is a strong accusation, especially for a woman with no public history of contributing to their wealth.
“I did move money from our accounts before I left.”
“What percentage of the balance did you move?”
This is important.
It’s not breaking the law to take funds from a joint account. Emptying the accounts, on the other hand, could fall into the hiding or spending wastefully category, which means a spouse is violating their spouse’s right to fair property division.
Ditto if she’s moved it out of state.
“God, I don’t know. He—we—I was told he had ten million in the account. I moved two hundred and fifty thousand.”
I blink.
“You were told? You couldn’t see the balance?”
“No, it was all in Adam’s name. I was just given a card and told to be careful with my spending.”
What? It wasn’t a joint account?
The fuck? The guy is a billionaire, and he tells his wife to be careful with her spending and restricts her from working and educating herself.
That’s abuse. Or, at best, neglect.
I’m starting to really dislike him. Strongly. There’s only one reason a man would do this to his wife, and that’s because he doesn’t trust her. Very rarely is it to do with the other person. Adam Blackmore is a controlling man, which aligns with what I’ve heard about him as a businessman.
Unless I’m wrong about Courtney and clouded by my attraction to it.
It’s a moot point, anyway. I’m not a judge, and this isn’t a trial. I’m her lawyer, and my job is to negotiate her settlement.
“Was everything in his name?” I ask to clarify the picture I’m painting in my head.
“Yes. I technically had nothing. I couldn’t walk away with nothing, Zander. Without an income source of my own, I would be vulnerable. I knew he’d cancel the credit card.”
“Because he wouldn’t let you work,” I mutter to myself, nodding. “What do you mean by technically?”
Courtney chews her bottom lip, looking guilty, and my stomach drops.
Please don’t tell me something that’s going to make Adam the good guy. Please.
“Well, I had a bank account with money in it. One I opened,” she starts as my brows lift.
“And?”
Is that it?
That’s her deep, dark secret?
Jesus.
“And I sometimes,” she looks down in shame. “I would buy something expensive like a YSL purse, then return it and demand cash.”
My mouth drops open, and she immediately takes it the wrong idea.
“I know it was wrong!” Courtney cries. “Kylie gave me the idea, and I used the money to do an online course. That was all. I didn’t use it for anything—”
“Selfish?” I offer with a sour taste in my mouth.
“Yes,” her shame is front and center, and I want to shake her.
“Courtney. Fucking hell. Buying things for yourself isn’t selfish. It’s called self-care. Your husband, and you by default the moment you married him, are billionaires.”
“Adam didn’t see it like that,” she mutters.
“Adam can’t change the fucking law. And I’m going to make sure that you get every single dollar of that fifty percent.”
“Thank you.” She leans her hip against the counter. “So, you don’t think they could use that as, I dunno, illegal behavior?”
“You asked for cash in return for a return purchase. You didn’t steal them...did you?” I frown, checking.
“No! God, Zander. Stop looking for some criminal history in my life. I have never broken the law.”
“Ever?”
“No. Well, I shoplifted a sandwich once, but that was because I hadn’t eaten for three days and I was starving.”
A tightness in my chest begins as I see her in a new light. A small girl, seeking a life, hungry, wanting to learn and thrive.
I smile softly. “Think we can let that pass. So, you did the online course?”
She smiles, her eyes lighting up. “A certificate in marketing. I loved it. I created a business plan with ideas and was about to share it with Adam when...well, when I knew it would be...you know, impossible to explain...I just didn’t.”
The lie.
She still has one.
A secret she’s keeping from me and possibly from everyone.
I glance away, drawing a deep breath. I know she won’t tell me if I push, so I let it go even though the fact she won’t trust me continues to piss me off.
And it’s no longer just about the job.
“Okay,” I scrub a hand over my face. “It appears your husband is trying to play this out on the internet. Taking funds from the account isn’t breaking the law nor going to impact the division of assets. Try to relax for the rest of the night and not let this get to you.”
I take in her tight black skirt, untucked, pink semi-sheer blouse, and bare feet and remind myself who she is and the consequences of letting my mind wander.
Letting my hands wander.
Imagining it’s a normal evening between us. Me making dinner, her sipping a glass of wine. Her pussy throbbing, eager for me to lift her skirt and make her come.
Her arms looping around my neck, lips seeking mine hungrily.
I’d ask her if she wants my cock in her ass and if that’s something she’d like.
She’d say yes, because this is my fantasy and I get to make the rules. She’d beg and then bend over, spreading her cheeks.
Eh, that’s probably a little too far.
I’d rather lather her up in the shower and tease her while her slippery breasts press into the tiles. When I’m deep inside her, I’d nudge my thumb into the rear hole and take her by surprise.
“Zander?”
I blink, coming back to reality.
“Why did you marry him?” I ask inappropriately, noticing I’ve moved closer.
What am I doing?
I need to hear that she wanted his money, that she’s desired other men. I need to feel disgusted by this woman so I can stop wanting her. So, I can go back to the way we irritated one another just by breathing.
“I was young.”
And poor. This is a good start.
“And?”
Courtney looks away. “He charmed me. Flew me around the world. Took me out on his yacht.”
Predictable.
All material.
Just the sort of woman I hate. “So—”
“No one had given me that sort of attention. Made me the apple of their eye. He cared about me. Despite being a young girl from Arizona who felt like a fish out of water in his world of money, celebrity and power.”
No, no, no.
That’s not how this plays out. Courtney liked his money, that’s what I need to hear.
It’s what I need to hear.
“I felt safe, cared for and protected. My parents were addicts, and I’d been in NYC for mere weeks when I met him. I was na?ve and thought we were falling in love. I thought he was a good man.”
Goddamn it.
“Do you still love him?” I ask as her eyes lift to mine, and somehow there’s less than a foot between us.
“No.”
“It’s better if you say yes,” I rasp as my hand brushes a lock from her forehead. “Say yes, Courtney.”
She swallows.
“No.”
I misjudged her from the start. She’s right; she was na?ve and still is. I can’t take advantage of her right now.
Taking a step back—metaphorically and physically—I now see a beautiful woman who was a prisoner in her marriage, unable to work or have a life without his permission.
She needs freedom.
She needs time to find herself.
Not an attorney who wants to watch her scream as he fucks her brains out.
I could have had this conversation on the phone, but telling her Vanguard had emailed us with Adam’s accusations of theft felt like something I needed to do in person.
Which is bullshit.
I needed to see her.
Because it had been four days since I’d last laid eyes on Courtney, I’d justified it inside my head that she would be upset by the news. I’m not a therapist, and caring for my client’s emotions is not my job.
Yet here I am.
Standing way too close and wishing like fuck I’d met her any other way so I could kiss her.
The best thing I can do is roll up my sleeves and destroy her asshole husband. When she’s no longer my client...
Shit.
I can’t. I never can.
It would hit the news no matter if it was ten years since she settled with Blackmore. It would impact my reputation, and my goal of becoming the nation's top attorney would be tarnished.
Our relationship, even if for a night or week, would be talked about as if it had happened during my time as her lawyer.
Well, I am standing a foot away from her, wishing I could strip her naked.
Christ.
I need to spend a night or two at the club before Colt sells. Maybe a week on a Brazilian beach.
That will do it.
Courtney placing her hand on my arm and the buzz of the connection has us both locking gazes. My pulse increases, my body on high alert as my dick drains the blood from my brain.
“What do we do now?”
“First, we put some form of solid furniture between us so I can control...” I stop short of saying my cock.
Her gaze lowers as she works it out.
“Oh.” She blushes, making things worse.
Those pink cheeks are reminiscent of a woman who’s just been fucked and kick off my dirty mind once more.
I should have rung.
I should turn around and leave.
“Zander.” Courtney licks her lips and glances at mine. “Perhaps we should talk about this.”
“Fuck no.” I take a step back, shaking my head, and turn away.
No, no, no.
Talking leads to fucking.
“I’m just saying, if we can acknowledge this little attraction—”
I spin back and she bounces off my chest. I had no idea she was that close, following me.
I catch her arms.
“Little attraction?” I hiss, as if having her in my arms is burning me. “Have you not noticed my erection every time you’re in my office?”
I shouldn’t have said that.
“A couple of times...”
Oh great. Knowing she’s been watching it makes my cock swell to maximum size.
Jesus.