Skimming over the rest of the case intake form, I register that I’m reading words, but my brain isn’t comprehending them over the sound of my beating heart. Anger I have no right to feel flows through me with the fury of a rushing river filled with lava. My jaw clenches so tight I wouldn’t be surprised if I needed to call my dentist later.
Without realizing it, my phone is in my hand and ringing before I even process who I’m calling, but as I listen to the incessant tone, I hear another phone ringing from behind the closed door of my office that matches the timing of the one in my hand.
My leather chair flies out from behind me when I spring from my seat, clattering to the floor with an unwelcomethud. Ignoring it, I stomp to the door, pulling it open so roughly the hinges groan.
Then Raina’s perfectly round doe eyes lock with mine instantly, her phone still ringing as she holds it in her palm.
“I’m sorry, sir. I was just telling Ms. Lancaster that she’d need a consultation appointment and?—”
“That’s alright,” I tell Lydia through gritted teeth, never taking my eyes off the bane of my existence. “Enjoy your break, Lydia. Ms. Lancaster, my office.”
Turning on my heel, I stalk back inside, knowing she’ll be right behind me. My chest heaves as my lungs struggle to catch up, the anger muddling my entire fucking body. The moment I hear the telltale click of the door, I spin toward her and advance until we’re chest to chest.
The reaction in my body is unexpected, even to me. It’s raw and possessive, yet mixed with confusion, and I’m about to start demanding answers when she pushes her manicured hand into me, her palm flat against my chest, and forces me to step back.
“Explain,” I seethe before she can get a word out. “You’remarried?”
There’s a slight roll to her eyes as she removes her hand from my body. “First off, ‘Hey Raina, how’s it going? I’m good, Luciano. Thanks for asking.’Second off, relax. You look like a tomato.”
This fucking woman.
Reading the goddamn room, she sighs and lifts her hands in the air, walking past me to go look out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“I don’t need your judgment,” she snaps, looking out at the skyline. Her arms are crossed, and the tone in her voice depicts the arrangement of emotions I know she must be feeling.
Temporarily, it lessens my anger, and I watch her closely as she continues. “No one is more surprised or confused than I am. And trust me, you’re the last person I wanted to bring my problems to, but you’re the best divorce attorney in the city, and Ineedyou—as much as it kills me to admit that. Actually, I need youandyour discretion.”
“You would get that with anyone. Attorney-client privilege.” I’m not sure why I say that, but the words tumble from my mouth.
Her blazing blue eyes turn in my direction. “I know, but I need the best attorney possible.”
Walking to my office chair, I right it before taking a seat. “It would be a conflict of interest for me to take you on as a client.”
“Because of Vinnie?”
No, because I want to fuck you six ways to Sunday.
“Yes. You’re my sister’s friend, and it would complicate things.”
She shakes her head. “Please, Luciano. I’m not above begging, and I need your help. The man I’ve apparently married is powerful, and this marriage—thisdivorce—will be complicated. I need the best of the best, and we both know that’s you.”
Crossing her arms tighter across her chest, she unknowingly presses her breasts closer together, amplifying her cleavage. My eyes dip to it before I sweep them back up to meet hers. The look on her face is killing me. She knows how to push my buttons, just like my sister does. But unlike my sister, this woman has the ability to ruin me with her smile, which is why I’ve been avoiding her like the plague for the last several years.
She will never know the attraction I harbor for her.
Ever.
Breaking our gaze, I turn in my office chair and swivel the mouse on my computer, bringing the screen to life. Briefly, I close my eyes, knowing she’s behind me and can’t see my moment of indecision. My mind is at war with itself—logic and reason screamingno, while the more humane side of me says tohelp her.
Instead, I decide I need a moment to think.
Never wavering from the computer screen, I aimlessly click the mouse and end up opening an internet browser.
“You know I can pay you,” she argues, likely sensing I’m about to kick her out of my office.
“It’s not about the money.”
“Then what’s the hesitancy about?”
