Page 12 of Marriage Terms


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She flicked the single button at the side of the dress, and the fabric pooled around her ankles.

His hands stroked down her bare back, grasping her buttocks and pulling her hard against him.

She trembled a little at the thought of what would come next. But she was doing it. There was no power on earth that could stop her.

“Amanda?” he questioned, drawing back, gazing at her in the darkened room.

She pushed off his shirt, avoiding eye contact.

“You nervous?”

“No,” she lied.

He paused. “You ever…”

This time she did look at him. No point in lying. He was going to figure it out soon anyway. She slowly shook her head. “Sorry.”

He swore softly. Then his grip loosened. “Sorry?” He coughed. “You have just…”

He tenderly kissed her mouth, then her cheeks, then her eyelids and her temples, drawing sensation after exquisite sensation up from her soul.

“If you’re sure,” he finally whispered.

“I am so sure,” she breathed.

A smile formed on his lips and he traced his fingertip down her abdomen, dipping into her navel, over the downy curls, then he feathered a whisper-light touch on her tender flesh.

Her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped open.

“You like?” he asked, his eyes burning into hers.

“Oh, yes.”

His touch grew firmer, delved deeper.

She grasped his shoulders. “What should I do?”

“Nothing,” he whispered.

“But—”

“You can’t get it wrong, Mandy. There is absolutely no way for you to get this wrong.”

Her muscles clenched and her eyes grew moist.

He gently laid her back on the bed, knees bent, feet still on the plush carpet.

“You tell me if I hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me.” He was so far from hurting her.

He left her for a second, kicking off his pants. But then he was back, and his hands were everywhere. She wanted time to stand still while she absorbed every possible sensation.

She took a deep breath, wanting to give back, wanting to make sure he was feeling half of what she was. She skimmed his chest with her knuckles, working her way lower across his taut skin. His abs contracted under her touch, and he gasped in her ear.

He groaned and kissed her mouth. She kissed him back, dueling with his tongue, arching into his touch, begging him with her body to go harder and deeper.

She wrapped her hand around him, and his heat seared her palm.

He swore, and she immediately jerked back.

“Did I hurt you?”

“You’re killing me, babe.”

“Sorry.”

He gave a hollow laugh. “Kill me some more.”

She did.

He shifted on top of her, his face showing the strains of control. “It’s now or never.”

She shifted her thighs to accommodate him. “Now,” she said with conviction.

He pushed inside her in one swift stroke.

Her eyes widened with the pain, but he kissed it all away.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered in her ear.

It was already okay. The pain was fleeting, but the passion kept on.

He moved inside her, and her need blasted off. A driving pulse pounded in her thighs, her abdomen, her breasts.

As his pace increased, she kissed him hard, opening her body, her muscles stretching and tensing, reaching for something she couldn’t identify.

Lightning burned behind her eyes. Electricity buzzed along her legs and a hot pool of sensation spread out from where their bodies joined.

He gasped her name, his entire body tensing as the world stood still for a microsecond.

Then relief pulsed through her, washing over her like summer rain, while the pounding pulse contracted her muscles and the lightning turned to streaks of color.

“Mrs. Elliott?”

A voice reached into her private thoughts. The limo driver.

She shook herself, her hand going to her chest as if to shield herself from the embarrassment of having been caught fantasizing about Daniel. “Uh, yes?”

He nodded to the brownstone building on the right. “We’re here.”

“Of course.” Amanda moved shakily toward the limo door.

“I’ll be right there.”

She allowed him to help her from the back seat, thanked him and crossed the sidewalk to her front door, where she carefully inserted the key.

Still, the memories of that prom night refused to fade.

She and Daniel had made magical love all night long. They’d said a bittersweet goodbye the next morning, knowing they would probably never see each other again.

And they wouldn’t have. She’d have gone to NYU, and he’d have trekked all over the world.

If not for Bryan.

Bryan had changed everything.

Chapter 6

Daniel pulled his silver Lexus to the curb in front of the courthouse, determined to change tactics. He should have known his impulsive plan with Taylor wouldn’t work on a woman as smart as Amanda.

But this time, things would be different.

He was slowing down, going on an intelligence-gathering mission. By the time he made his next move, she wouldn’t even see it coming.

He set the emergency brake and shut off the engine. First things first. It was easy for him to see what should draw her to corporate law. It was harder for him to understand what drew her to criminal law.

But that was about to change.

He opened the driver’s door and stepped out of the car. Amanda’s receptionist—bless the woman’s unthinking friendliness—had told Daniel exactly where to find Amanda. She was arguing an embezzlement case.

Embezzlement.

Employees stealing from their employers.

He slammed the car door shut and clamped his jaw. It was a glamorous career his ex-wife had chosen.

He glanced at his watch as he trotted up the wide, concrete steps. They were nearly an hour into the trial.

He pulled open the heavy oak doors, crossed the wide foyer and located courtroom number five.

There he quietly slipped into the back row.

The opposing lawyer was conducting the questioning, but Daniel could see the back of Amanda’s head. She sat at the defendant’s table next to a thin woman in a tan blouse with straight, mousy brown hair.

“Can you identify the signature on the check, Mr. Burnside?” the other lawyer asked the witness.

The witness looked up from a plastic sheaf in his hand and nodded toward the defendant. “It’s Mary Robinson’s signature.”

“Did she have signing authority?” asked the lawyer.

The witness nodded. “For petty cash, office supplies, things like that.”

“But she wouldn’t normally write a check payable to herself?”

“Absolutely not,” said the witness. “That’s fraud.”

Amanda stood up. “Objection, Your Honor. Speculation.”

“Sustained,” said the judge. He looked at the witness. “Just answer the questions.”

The witness’s mouth thinned.

“Can you tell us the amount of the check?” asked the lawyer.

“Three thousand dollars,” the witness answered, eyes hard.

“Mr. Burnside, to the best of your knowledge, did Mary Robinson purchase office supplies with that three-thousand dollars?”

“She stole it,” spat the witness.

Amanda stood again. “Your Honor—”

“Sustained,” said the judge, wearily.

“But she did,” Mr. Burnside insisted.

The judge looked down at him. “Are you arguing with me?”

He clamped his jaw.

“No further questions,” said the lawyer.

Good move, thought Daniel. Burnside didn’t seem to be helping the cause.

The judge looked to Amanda.

“No questions,” she said.

“The prosecution rests,” said the other lawyer.

“Ms. Elliott,” said the judge, “you may call your first witness.”

Amanda stood up. “The defense would like to call Collin Radaski to the stand.”

A man in a dark suit stood up and made his way toward the aisle. Amanda turned to watch, and Daniel ducked behind a woman two rows up who was wearing a broad hat.

The bailiff swore in the witness, and Amanda approached the stand.

“Mr. Radaski, would you state your position at Westlake Construction Company.”

Radaski leaned toward the microphone. “I’m the office manager.”

“As part of your duties, do you approve payroll checks?”

He leaned in again. “Yes, I do.”

Amanda walked back to the defendant’s table and picked up a piece of paper. “Is it true, Mr. Radaski, that Jack Burnside instructed you to hold back holiday pay on those checks?”

“We don’t include holiday pay every month.”

“Is it also true that overtime was paid to Westlake Construction employees at straight time rather than time and a half?”

“We have a verbal agreement with employees regarding overtime.”

Amanda raised her eyebrows and paused, making her disbelief known without saying a word. “A verbal agreement?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Amanda returned to the table and switched papers. “Are you aware, Mr. Radaski, that Westlake Construction has been breaking labor laws for over ten years?”

“What does that have to do with—”

“I object,” called the prosecuting lawyer.

“On what grounds?” asked the judge.

“The witness is not in a position—”

“The witness is the office manager responsible for payroll,” Amanda pointed out.

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