“Counselor?” he murmured.
She let out a low, almost sigh.
“You make a very compelling case, Mr. District Attorney.”
His grin began to return.
“But,” she said softly, “I think the defense deserves at least a moment to consider the evidence.”
He chuckled. “Take all the time you need.”
“The problem is… I don’t have much of a defense.”
He blinked.
Eleanor stepped into his space, the movement so small and so deliberate that the air between them seemed to vibrate. She could feel the steady radiance of his heat, the scent of him, and expensive cologne—filling her senses until there was nothing else.
“So here’s my argument.”
Her fingers tightened in his.
“You’re insufferably cocky.”
His grin widened.
“You flirt with everyone—including judges.”
“Allegedly.”
“You never let me win an argument without making me fight for it.”
“Also true.”
She shook her head, smiling now.
“And somehow… despite all of that… you still make me laugh when I’m trying very hard not to.”
She lifted her eyes to his, and for a heartbeat, the "Defense Attorney" was gone.
“I can’t think of a single good reason not to fall for you,” she whispered.
She watched his pupils blow wide, his gaze dropping to her mouth as if he were memorizing the shape of her honesty.
Reid went very still.
“Which is… a problem.”
His brow furrowed slightly. “A problem?”
She gave a quiet, almost helpless laugh.
“Because I think I’m already in trouble.”
For a heartbeat, he simply stared at her.
He’d expected sparks—fire, even.
He hadn’t expected this—to be in this deep, this fast, with the one woman who could wreck him and make it feel like a gift.
