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“I can’t make any promises, but I feel really good about it.”
“Good.” This from Mr. Fisher, causing Cyrus to blink in surprise. In all this time, he could only remember the man speaking when asked a direct question. “I hope they put that fucking monster behind bars. I don’t know why the judge slapped you down for just speaking the truth.”
Once again, he was overwhelmed by their loss, to the point he could feel his own throat tightening with the effort to hold back tears. “Well, all we can do now is wait. Why don’t you go home for a bit? Cases like this, it could be days before the jury comes back with a verdict.”
“You’ll call us as soon as you hear something?”
“I promise you’ll be the first call I make.”
The moment they stepped aside to head for the door, Mina took their place. “Hey, you.”
“No comment.”
Where other women might have been offended, she simply grinned. “That’s fine. I just came over to ask what time I should be at your place tonight.”
He should cancel. Put her off somehow. But instinct told him if he did that, it would just make her all the more suspicious and she’d go sniffing around for a story. “Eight. That should give me enough time to finish up at the office and order dinner.”
“Aw, you aren’t going to cook for me?”
“I like you far too much for that, Ace.”
Tossing her head back, she laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll bring wine. See you at eight, counselor.”
ChapterFive
Something was going on with Cyrus Banks, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.
Her research hadn’t turned up much, other than a set of hoity toity parents who were apparently A Big Fucking Deal back in New York. Baby brother had stepped up to run the family business when Cyrus took off for DC, but there wasn’t even a whiff of scandal there. She’d included some details to beef up her piece on him, but there hadn’t been anything noteworthy to pursue.
But his behavior in court today, now that was something. And maybe it was the teensiest bit unethical, but that had been the final push to get her to agree to his proposed date.
She’d been leaning towards saying yes anyway, so she tried to tell herself there was nothing to feel guilty about when she would have agreed even if she hadn’t smelled a story.
Probably.
And, well, if she felt guilty about it, maybe a spanking from “Daddy” would help clear the air. That was what she’d learned after hours of scouring the internet the night before, anyway. She wasn’t crazy about the idea of a bunch of rules and stuff, but the kinky parts? Oh, yeah, she definitely liked that. She’d like it so much that she’d given herself three of the best orgasms of her life while she’d “researched”.
So yeah, she probably would have agreed to the date anyway, if for no other reason than to feed her curiosity over the whole “daddy thing” as she’d come to think of it. Which meant there was no reason to feel nervous, standing on the front steps of his townhome with a bottle of expensive Cabernet in one hand, waiting for him to answer the door.
When he finally appeared, saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight of him. He’d changed out his court clothes in favor of a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a sweater in a deep purple color that molded perfectly to his torso.
His shockingly well-defined torso. In that moment, all she wanted was to get her hands on him, to feel those smooth planes of muscle under her fingertips.
“Mina. Come in.”
There was a hint of amusement in his tone, but she couldn’t summon the energy to care. Doing her best to wrestle her wayward emotions back into submission, she stepped inside.
“You have a lovely home.” Lovely was a bit of an understatement. Even to her untrained eye, everything about the space whispered of wealth. Old wealth, not the kind an assistant district attorney had if he was only relying on his income. Maybe he had a trust fund from those hoity toity parents back in New York.
“Thank you. I hired someone when I moved in initially, but over the years I’ve added bits and pieces of my own. I make it a point to buy from local artists whenever possible.”
Now that she looked a little closer, she could see the blend of old and new as she wandered into the living room. “It works. It’s very…you.”
His soft chuckle somehow matched the relaxed, casual clothes he’d donned, and it fascinated her. It was as if she were seeing an entirely different version of him. “I should hope so, since I’m the one who has to live here.”
“Touché.”
“Would you like a tour?”
