First Time For Everything. Aimee CarsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
ten years old, which means I’ve dealt with a lot of social workers through the years. I learned to spot a bad one a mile away.” The tidbit about her past was disturbing. But there was no self-pity in her eyes, just a level of acceptance that was impressive, and Blake fought the surge of sympathy. “Suffice it to say,” she went on, “I’ve had enough experience with government employees to be a little leery of the devoted public servant. Yes, I might get lucky and be assigned an excellent attorney.” She shot him a look that dared him to disagree. “But I also know how bad it will be if I’m appointed one that isn’t.”
Her hazel eyes exhibited a wariness and knowledge beyond her years, a hard-earned wisdom bubbling just beneath surface. Too bad she didn’t apply that wisdom on a regular basis. Blake shifted in his seat, wishing he could offer her words of assurance. But he had more than enough experience to know that a poorly executed defense could have lifelong consequences.
And clearly Jacqueline Lee knew it, too.
“Consider it an exchange of favors,” she said with a stubborn lift of her chin. And he supposed somewhere in that zany world she inhabited the logic made sense. “If you want me to help you with Nikki, those are my terms.”
With his current schedule, their arrangement would mean burning the midnight oil. But he wouldn’t be getting any work done if he was worried that Nikki would hobble to her car and drive across town again, just to obtain a second cast tattoo.
Blake wearily rubbed a hand down his face and then shot Jax a hard look. “You’ll have to follow my directions to the letter.”
“I can do that.”
“Which means no arguing over my every instruction.”
Her attempt to feign ignorance was comical. “I’m very capable of holding my tongue.”
All evidence to date suggested otherwise.
He paused for effect and then raised a doubtful eyebrow. “I guess we’ll find out,” he murmured.
Her gaze didn’t budge, and the challenge in her voice was another gut-clenching jolt to his libido. “I guess we will.”
The next morning Jax left Nikki relaxing by her brother’s sparkling pool, tablet computer in hand, and made her way up the bougainvillea-lined walk leading to the main house. Since Jax’s quarters were located in a separate guest cottage beyond the pool, avoiding the owner so far had been easy. The rest of the day would likely be a different story.
For the bazillionth time since she’d said yes, Jax questioned her decision to accept the temporary job. In the end, it hadn’t been because she needed the money desperately, which was true, or that the flexibility of the work would afford her time to pursue funding for the club, which was also accurate. Ultimately, the mention of Nikki’s loneliness had won her over.
Jax had spent years living in homes surrounded by people, yet feeling all alone.
But for the first time, alone was sounding almost attractive. Putting up with Blake’s disturbing presence in the limo had been bad enough, but now she was staying on his property. As his employee. And the thought of being reduced to a subordinate to the strictly by-the-book man was less than thrilling. Eight years spent at the mercy of the foster-care system had instilled in her an inherent dislike of being under an authoritative thumb. Either way, as frustrating as he was, she knew he was an excellent lawyer. Brilliant was the word Nikki had used. Which would have made the exchange of favors perfect…except for that damn coolly amused attitude of his yesterday.
An attitude that had only gotten worse.
Because last night, when the limo had arrived in front of the courthouse to drop her off, her car had been missing. After a brief moment of panic on her part, Blake had phoned the police station with her license plate…and learned her VW Beetle had been towed and impounded for a parking violation.
Which meant that the day that had started out good before turning bad had officially landed on the ugly.
She’d wound up having to endure Blake’s patient yet imposing form in her apartment while she packed for his house—the light in his eyes clearly communicating he was even more amused since she’d added a parking violation to her list of crimes. It was stupid, she knew, to care that the man thought she was a complete flake.
Unfortunately, now she needed to remind him of that very fact by asking him for a ride to the impound lot to retrieve her car.
Jax bit back the groan as dread and an annoying sliver of anticipation wormed its way into her limbs, and she rubbed a damp palm down her jeans as she passed through the French doors and into the foyer. She paused, wondering where to look for Blake, feeling underdressed in her well-worn jeans.
His modern, U-shaped house was framed in wood and stone and gorgeously situated in an exclusive island neighborhood in South Miami Beach. Jax headed into the huge living room, where dark Brazilian wood floors added warmth. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows afforded an unobstructed view of the Biscayne Bay to the north, and to the south, the pool nestled between the U.
All in all, a soothing scene…until she spied Blake at the far end of the room.
Jax’s heart picked up speed even as her stride grew slower as she considered leaving before being detected. After yesterday’s trail of humiliating moments, she longed to rejoin Nikki at the pool and forget about her car. Unfortunately, the sound of her squeaking tennis shoes announced her arrival, and Blake turned before she could decide whether to pay now or pay later.
Her heart shifted from First to Third as he approached, long legs crossing the vast room with a purpose.
Clean-shaven and impeccably dressed, Blake looked almost as formal as the day before. The tux had been replaced with charcoal-colored pants and a white dress shirt, and his thick, ink-black hair was damp at the edges, probably from a shower.
Didn’t he know it was Saturday? And why couldn’t she convince her libido that he was so not her type that she couldn’t even begin to count the ways? The oodles of dollars in his bank account didn’t come close to making her list of concerns, but she was dying to know where his fortune came from.
“Please don’t tell me you’re accepting bribes from the Mafia,” she said.
His pace slowed as he approached, puzzlement briefly hijacking his cool demeanor. “I’m sorry?”
Not near as sorry as she was when he stopped in front of her and she was hit with his now familiar cologne. Tamping down the wave of heat, she shifted her gaze from his broad shoulders, emphasized by the cut of his shirt, to his striking face.
Her body might never get used to the masculine beauty.
“No matter how far up the chain he is, there is no way a government attorney could afford a house like this,” she said with a wry hike of her brow. “Unless, of course, he’s on the take.”
His cool expression morphed to one of interest, and the gray eyes crinkled at the edges in humor. “I promise, I’m not accepting bribes. And trust me,” he said, his voice achieving the perfect droll note, “no one enters a life of public law for the salary. I’m fortunate enough that the paycheck isn’t a concern.” He held her gaze a moment before turning his attention to the view, his face briefly growing hard. “I inherited my money.”
Inherited. Which meant someone—family—had to die for him to acquire all this wealth. And judging by the look on his face it was a subject she should stay far, far away from. Because something in his expression told her if she pursued that line of questioning, he’d cut her off at the knees.
A perplexing and exasperating tenderness welled inside her. The man who had the world at his feet had a vulnerable spot, too. And, minus the inheritance part, one she could relate to, no less.
Toes tapping nervously, she struggled to lighten the mood again before she asked for a ride, ignoring her clamoring nerves. “Well, I guess I have to change my first impression of you as the James Bond type.” He quirked his eyebrow skeptically, and