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“She compels me,” Lucius said. “I cannot shut her out any more than I could willingly harm her.” He stood still, trying to conjure the words that would make his friend understand. “She brings light to the dark inside me,” he finally said. “Tell me that you do not understand. Tell me honestly that were you in my position you would walk away from her. That you could walk away.”
He saw the pain pass over his friend’s face. The memories of Elizabeth, the woman who had once soothed Nick beyond all others. Who had hurt him beyond all others, too.
“We will speak about this later,” Nick said, but the edge had left his voice.
“I have no doubt,” Luke said.
The elevator opened, and Sara stepped out, her cheeks rosy from having rushed. Their eyes locked, and he felt it. A sensual tug he associated only with her. A hard jolt to his senses that had his body firing and his imagination traveling to forbidden destinations.
She held his gaze. One moment. Another. And then she looked away, but not before he saw it on her face—desire.
He saw it, and he cherished it.
Mine, he thought, and knew that no matter what else transpired between them, there was a truth in that one simple word.
She walked with exaggerated purpose toward him, sliding her palms along her skirt as if they were damp. “Mr. Dragos. Mr. Montague. Thank you for waiting.”
“My client is pleased to cooperate with any and all reasonable requests posed by the prosecution, Counselor. We hope, of course, that the favor will be reciprocated this time.”
“I…of course,” she said, but her voice was distracted, and her eyes were on Luke. “Oh, hell. I was hoping to speak to you. Privately,” she added, glancing pointedly at Nick.
“Of course. Nick,” he said. “A moment, please, with Ms. Constantine.”
Nick sighed, long and put-upon. “We’ve had this conversation, Luke. As long as I’m your advocate—”
“You’re fired.”
Nick’s expression couldn’t have been more startled if Luke had dropped his pants and mooned him. “What?”
“You’re fired,” he repeated. “It’s a simple concept resulting in the termination of any business relationship between us.”
“Don’t do this, Luke.”
“Don’t fight me, Nicholas.” He turned to the receptionist. “Do you have access to the relevant databases? Can you make a notation that Lucius Dragos is no longer represented by counsel, but is proceeding in pro per?”
“I…um…I…” She glanced frantically toward Sara, who nodded.
“I’ll take responsibility,” Sara said, the laughter in her voice delighting him. “Go ahead. I expect you’ll be adding Mr. Montague back to the database after Mr. Dragos and I conclude our conversation.”
Luke chuckled. “I like the way you think, but no. Mr. Montague and I have reached the end of the line. Irreconcilable differences,” he said, with a brief nod to his friend.
“This isn’t over,” Nick said, his voice a taut wire, ready to snap.
“I expect no less from you,” Luke said. “But for now, it is.”
Nick tossed his car keys into the air, caught them. “Fair enough, my friend. But find your own ride home.”
And with that, he slipped through the doors and into the PEC parking garage.
Luke turned his attention to Sara. “I think he’s upset,” she said.
He fought a smile. “Imagine that.”
“I wanted to say thank you. For the information about Caris.”
“Have you found her?” He almost feared that Doyle or another detective had—he wanted the sweet pleasure of ending her himself.
“Not yet. The investigators are following a bunch of leads.” Her mouth quirked up. “I’ve been a little busy with a hearing, so I’m not completely up to date.”
