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Still reeling from his accusations, she was shocked to find tears burning at the backs of her eyes. What the hell did she care what Cyrus Banks thought of her anyway?
Far too much, it seemed. Which begged an entirely different, far more uncomfortable question: Why?
ChapterThree
He’d fucked up.
It had taken all of five seconds with his mental shields lowered just a fraction to sense the hurt pouring off Mina in waves. Along with disbelief and a righteous anger that had made him feel about two inches tall.
Which, he was willing to admit, he deserved. Having the Fishers seated right behind him was like having a constant battering ram of emotions storming the castle of his mind, until his normal defenses began to crack under the onslaught and their pain had begun to seep through, leaving him raw and far too vulnerable for his liking.
Still, that was no excuse to take out his frustrations on her the way he had. Looking back at the encounter now, it was easy to see that was exactly what he’d done, and she’d rightfully called him on it.
Luckily for him, Stacy was taking the lead on cross most of the day. Most of the “experts” the defense had called were older, educated men who took one look at her platinum blonde hair, bright smile, sparkling eyes, and decided they were smarter than her.
They were almost always wrong, but by the time they realized it, the damage was done. So far during the course of the trial, she’d shredded the testimony of three such witnesses and barely broken a sweat.
By the time they wrapped it up for the day, he’d come to the conclusion he owed Mina an apology. Unfortunately for him, she’d ducked out to join the throng of reporters waiting on the front steps of the courthouse before he could issue one.
Putting on his “confident DA” face, he stopped in front of the small sea of microphones and cameras. His gaze flicked towards Mina, but her expression was closed off. Professional. It was the same look he’d seen from her a hundred times before.
So why, suddenly, did he want to reach through the crowd and haul her to him? Why was the firm set of her mouth practically begging him to claim it?
He pushed aside the unsettling images running through his mind and let his gaze travel over the rest of her counterparts. Without singling out any particular question, he raised his voice to be heard over the din. “You all know I can’t discuss details with you at this moment, but I can say the district attorney’s office is satisfied with the direction this trial has taken so far. Thank you.”
Ignoring the rest of the shouted questions, he made his way down the steps, taking a hard right back towards his office. When he spotted the van for Channel Eleven, he slipped between the vehicles and waited.
It wasn’t long before Mina came hurrying along with her cameraman right behind her. Steeling himself for the confrontation, he stepped out of the shadows. “Mina.”
For the second time that day, she nearly plowed right into him. Only this time, she did lose her balance and toppled backwards with a shriek.
Lunging for her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, yanking her toward him so she fell forward into his chest.
“Cyrus.” His name was barely a whisper of breath, and instantly his mind conjured another image of her, rising up over him, her hair loose and free, head thrown back in ecstasy as she chanted his name.
Then she jerked out of his hold, her features scrunching up into a scowl as she brushed at her clothes, and the fantasy was lost. “What the hell has gotten into you today, Cyrus?”
Fuck if I know. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Again.”
The glare she shot him clearly said she hadn’t forgiven him for their interaction in the courtroom earlier. “What do you want?”
“To apologize.”
Her hands stilled on her skirt and she looked up, the annoyed scowl giving way to curiosity. “And what exactly would you be apologizing for?”
“What happened at lunch was…” The words were bitter on his tongue, but he forced himself to speak them anyway. “I was wrong, to say the things I said.”
“Yeah, you were. You know me better than that.”
He should have known she wouldn’t let him off so easily. “I do. Hence the apology.”
“Hence,” she repeated with a snort of laughter. “Apology accepted, though I reserve the right to be pissed at you as long as I feel like it.”
“Would an exclusive interview help smooth things over between us? Perhaps over dinner tonight?”
What the hell was wrong with him? She’d accepted the apology, mostly, so there was no reason to push things any further. And yet, here he was, offering himself up on a platter just so she wouldn’t be angry with him.
“An exclusive interview?” Hunger filled her gaze, but it had nothing to do with the dinner he’d offered to go along with said interview. “About the trial?”
