Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
The quiet conversation that my partner, Simon Gamble, is having reverberates through the wall, his voice traveling through the paper-thin drywall that separates us.
He’s in the middle of a high-profile divorce, and I can hear him arguing with his stubborn client, who is acting as though he’s the one who’s gone to law school.
I arrived at work thirty minutes earlier than I needed to, too antsy to stay home any longer. From the moment my meticulously pressed dress pants hit the leather of my seat, I’ve been tapping my pen against the mahogany desk, burning a hole through the closed door of my office.
Raina is late.
She should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago, which I shouldn’t be surprised about, but I find myself continuously glancing at the clock, waiting for her arrival.
I should’ve never taken her case.
Although, as far as technicalities are concerned, no contract has been signed, and no payment has been exchanged for me to be considered her official representation.
But in my mind, I’ve already committed.
Which is why it enrages me that she is late.
I’ve known Raina for more than a decade now. She became friends with my sister when they were in high school, and from the first moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was trouble.
Too smart, too pretty. Even then.
And the older she grew, the more confident she became. She exhibited just the perfect amount of sass that made me want to take her over my knee and teach her a lesson, and that wasn’t typically a kink I enjoyed.
It was a sick infatuation on my end. She was underage when I met her. A freshman in college has no business being attracted to a freshman in high school. It’s inappropriate.
Thankfully, a degree in law is no easy feat, so staying as far away as absolutely possible from the little troublemaker wasn’t difficult, even if she had attached herself to my sister like glue.
For years, our interactions were few and far between, even though she did make her crush on me painfully obvious every time I was in her presence.
To my dismay, my assumption that their friendship would end after high school was proven wrong, as they only seemed to grow closer.
When it was clear she wouldn’t be making a dramatic exit from her connection to the Paladino family, I made a vow to myself to stay the hell away from her at all costs, no matter how much my cock begged me otherwise.
Perhaps that’s where my obsession with leggy blondes began.
She became harder to avoid when she started coming to our family’s weekly Sunday brunch.
Not every Sunday, thank God, but enough of them.
It’s easy to pretend I’m not attracted to her, though, with our difference in age, interests, and career paths.
I have no problem with staying in my own lane, being careful to never seem interested.
Because I’m not interested.
Really, I’m not.
Maybe if I keep repeating it, it’ll come to fruition.
Reaching down, I palm my aching shaft, readjusting it as I suppress a growl, furious that my body has betrayed me yet again.
Raina Lancaster is nothing more than a plague infecting my mind, and the sooner I can get her a divorce, the faster I’ll go back to ignoring her existence, even if that means distancing myself from my sister and my friends.
I have to. For my own sanity.
Gritting my teeth, I look down at the paper below my pen and realize I’ve rubbed a hole through it, my attention focused elsewhere. Slamming the pen on my desk, I shake my head, trying to pull myself out of the fog my mind has succumbed to.
I run my fingers through my hair, letting out a shaky breath as I hear the sound of heels in the lobby, and before I can stop myself, I’m on my feet and ripping open the door.
Instantly, my eyes collide with Raina’s, and her breath hitches as she gets caught in my orbit, just how I’m already caught in hers.
It’s dangerous. I can feel myself playing with fire, but the singe of the flame is welcome. It reminds me I’m a red-blooded man who’s not completely susceptible to ignoring the way a woman can make him feel.
And I need to extinguish it.
Taking my time, I drag my eyes up Raina’s body slowly—torturously—taking her all in.
The cream-colored silk blouse she’s wearing, her black cigarette pants, and tortoise-shell pointed heels.
The way her hair is in loose waves today, cascading down her shoulders and framing the light makeup illuminating her face.
She’s an illusion of a classy, sophisticated woman, but I know there’s another side to her, and even though I am still trying to avoid her, every fiber of my being craves her presence.
I want to peel back the layers and get to know the woman beneath the exterior.
I know there’s so much more for me to learn beyond this carnal attraction I feel toward her.
But I also know I shouldn’t. I should walk away.
She’s my sister’s best friend. She’s about to be my client.
All of this is wrong.
Then why does it feel so right simply being around her?
A stronger man would fight it, and I am, but there’s just something about her that makes me want to say fuck it all and bend her over my desk, consequences be damned.
Especially when she’s looking at me like she is now.
“Hi,” Raina says after a moment, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
“You’re late.” I pivot to the side, outstretching my arm back into my office.
She takes the hint and walks in, keeping her pouty lips shut as she does. Following, I watch her hips sway slightly and appreciate the way her pants hug her curves before forcing myself to act like the goddamn professional I am.
Expelling an exasperated sigh, I briefly close my eyes and force myself to get it together.
But as I close the door behind us, she overwhelms my senses. Her scent. The way she glows in the mid-morning light that shines through the high-rise window. It sends my pulse racing.
Hesitantly, she takes a seat in the plush leather chair as I circle the desk to take mine, and with each heavy step, I remind myself of all the reasons this is a bad idea.
Letting the silence stretch between us, I take my time looking for her file on my desk, even though I know damn well it’s at the very bottom where I put it. Opening it, I pretend to skim over the front page and put on a show of laying the entire file down on my desk again with care.
Don’t ask me why because I haven’t got a fucking clue.
“Are you sure you want to be my lawyer?” Raina asks quietly, which is entirely out of character for her.
My gaze snaps to her as a feeling ripples through me I’m not accustomed to. It feels a lot like protectiveness, yet it’s different from what I’ve felt before, and there’s a powerful urge to scoop her into my arms, to comfort her and make that demure tone of hers disappear.
Nothing good will come from you showing her kindness, asshole, I chastise myself. Sully’s just gotten into your head.
“Is something the matter, Raina?” I taunt instead, like the jackass I am.
She looks up at me with fire in her eyes but says nothing before dropping her gaze back to where her hands sit clasped in her lap.
“Yes, I want to be your lawyer,” I continue, busying my hands by shuffling the files around on my desk, “even though every cell in my brain is screaming that it’s a conflict of interest.”
“I can find someone else…”
“Raina, I won’t keep going in circles with you about this. You need a divorce attorney who is going to work for you. As I said previously, this won’t be as cut and dry as you think?—”
“I know,” she interjects, but I continue.
“—your husband”—I cringe inwardly as I say the word that feels like concrete on my tongue—“has wealth and power on his side.”
“So do I.”
“But the rules are different in Spain, and?—”
“Let me make myself very clear, Luciano,” she interrupts again, this time finding her spirit. “I don’t need a savior. I need a lawyer, and I’m not asking for anything other than your legal expertise.”
Exasperating. Fucking. Woman.
Lacing my hands together, I place them on the desk in front of me and wait to see if she’s finished with her tirade. Twice now she’s cut me off mid-sentence—a pet peeve of mine—and I’ve kicked people out of my office for less irritating reasons.
Ever so slightly, she cocks her head and smirks, clearly realizing what I’m doing, before crossing her arms over her chest. Leaning back in her chair, she embraces the silence in the room.
After a few moments have passed, I continue.
“The rules in Spain are different. They’re more—how can I say this without sounding like a complete asshole?
Traditional.” Adjusting myself, I take a more relaxed position in my chair.
“He has to save face, especially in his position of power. He may be low-ranking nobility in a society that no longer legally recognizes it, but barons are still highly respected and have a say in the land they own and therefore everything that happens on it. Based on my research of the Moreno family, they own a lot of land throughout the country. When the title is passed to him, he’ll inherit all the revenue streams and become the head of their family.
There’s a lot at stake now that they know about you, and subsequently, there’s not a chance he won’t go down without a fight.
His family may pose an even bigger headache when they see his wife trying to flee. ”
Raina purses her lips as she switches the leg she has crossed. “It shouldn’t be an issue.”
“What do you mean, it shouldn’t be an issue?”
“I took care of it. All Javier wants is a temporary scapegoat. Since he’s inheriting the title, his family has expectations for him to take a bride, and somehow they found out that on paper he’s already married. He just needs a fake wife, and I created a ‘get out of marriage free card’ of my own.”
My eyebrows knit together, trying to figure out where she’s going with this. “Go on.”