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When Mark opened the door, he was grinning. “I’ll just ask you again tomorrow,” he said, and something dropped in my stomach.
Magda tittered out a laugh, and I didn’t like the sound of it at all. I felt a little jealous, if I was honest with myself, feeling like there was a rock in my gut. I knew that it must just be that I was territorial. Once I’d had sex with a woman, I didn’t like the idea of her having sex with anyone else.
Magda couldn’t have been sleeping with Mark, right? Her blinds weren’t drawn, the door hadn’t been locked, so not in the office, anyway. But outside the office? Even if it wasn’t Mark, it could be someone else.
I walked into her office. “I ordered the moo goo gai pan for lunch,” I said, knowing that it was her favorite.
Her usually intense blue eyes widened in what looked like happiness.
“God, I’ve been craving it all day,” she groaned, and I grinned, sitting down in the chair across from her.
Fuck Mark Windham. Magda was inmybed last night, not his, and that was all that mattered.
“I was thinking after we ate, we could go out,” I whispered, leaning across her desk as I sat.
“Out for a second lunch?” Magda asked incredulously.
“No, Riley. Out to a hotel room.” I kept my voice low and she blushed, scrambling to get up and go and shut her door, drawing the blinds this time.
I grinned. Somehow, her drawing the blinds made me feel better. I was on a different level than Mark Windham.
“Didn’t you just hear me tell Mark no to going out to lunch? We need to stay in and go over the prenup to be sure that I’m right about Mrs. Martinez’s trust fund.”
“We’ll have to go over it line by line,” I said. “It’ll take a couple of days. So a couple of hours for lunch won’t hurt.”
Magda bit her lip, which I already knew from the past couple of weeks meant that she was considering it heavily.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” I murmured.
Magda looked at me for a long moment. “Fine, but I’m taking my own car,” she answered.
“Who said you could ride in my baby, anyway? You always slam the doors,” I teased, and Magda scoffed.
“You love that car more than anything else.”
“Damn straight. That’s my baby girl,” I answered. The car wasn’t even brand-new. I’d bought it when I’d made my first million, and it was getting older. I kept it well maintained, though, but it was one of those sentimental things, like my old office chair.
I sauntered back to my office to work on a few other things while we waited for lunch. It was mostly just my signature to buy office supplies, things like that. Richard dealt with most of the hiring and firing, and I dealt with the budget. I was good at it. Growing up somewhere that you had to really stretch meals helped me stick to a tight budget, and we spent far less money than our competitors. Add to that, we had the best divorce and family lawyers in the state, in my opinion, and that included Magda Riley. She was a good lawyer, even if I disliked her personality a bit.
That was changing, too, though, I had to admit. I remembered her favorite lunch, the way she took her coffee. When I started to think about it, it made me panic just a little, my chest and throat felt tight. There was no way I was developingfeelingsfor her, was there? Surely, not.
I’d known her for a couple of years now and we’d only just started sleeping together. I wouldn’t develop feelings that quickly. It did all seem sort of domestic, though, me buying her favorite lunch, bringing her coffee in the mornings. Me jealous of Mark Windham. Maybe I should take a step back.
We had already scheduled the hotel meeting, though, and I wasn’t about to take a step back fromthat.
Magda was a great lay, and I was going to do that as much as I could while we were working on the case. I was definitely what one would call a serial monogamist, but at the same time, I was taking a breather from relationships. And it didn’t matter anyway, because it wasn’t like that with Magda. We were casual. Just blowing off steam with each other.
MAGDA
Roarke was alreadyin the hotel room when I arrived, sending me a text with the room number. The penthouse, of course. I rolled my eyes.
He could be so much, sometimes. He just had to show off all his money and rent out a penthouse for a simple two hours of sex. I couldn’t stand him. But yet, here I was, having ditched my panties in the office bathroom and stuck them into my purse because I knew he liked to just bend me over any available surface.
Ugh, why did he have to be so handsome and good in bed? I didn’t even find him attractive when I first met him, nor in the two years I’d been working at Brentwood and Webster. Now, though, the more I got to know about him, the more I noticed how objectively good-looking he was.
He had a few strands of silver along his temples, little wrinkles around his eyes that showed some of his age. I assumed he was in his mid to late forties, but who knew? He had one of those faces that made it hard to tell, with a strong jaw and a clean-shaven chin. There was a dimple in his chin and one in his cheek when he smiled, and it made me weak in the knees sometimes.
A lot about him was making me weak in the knees lately, and it was starting to worry me. I put that out of my head, though, telling myself this was just a little bit of fun, a couple hours to get out of my own head. One of the only times I didn’t think too much was during sex, and it was safer to do it with Roarke outside the office than some stranger at a bar, right? That was all this was. Convenience.
