Royal Temptation. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
been expecting him to. A couple of members of the jury were even in tears. But then the prosecution hit him with an argument Mikael had not foreseen.
Deliberately Mikael refused to reach for his notes or react.
He just noted it in his head.
Tomorrow his response would be savage.
Tomorrow he would use every letter of the law that he had at his disposal.
‘I’m gone, aren’t I?’ his client said before heading back to the cells.
‘I haven’t closed yet,’ Mikael responded, though he gave no pep talk. He certainly wasn’t here to reassure or make friends with his clients. All he required from himself was to offer the best defence.
It was a long walk back to chambers.
The press were waiting, with their usual questions, and Mikael duly ignored them. His mouth was dry and he wanted the cool darkness of his office, where the heavy drapes would be closed and he could sit in silence and make notes on all that had been said today.
‘Don’t ask!’ Mikael warned his clerk as he stepped in.
Both knew that it was not going well, and that he would be here all night working on the final details before delivering his closing speech tomorrow.
‘I don’t know how to tell you this—’ Wendy started.
Mikael turned and saw that his very efficient clerk for once looked a touch ruffled.
‘There’s a lady here to see you.’
‘I haven’t got time to see anyone now.’
‘Mikael, I’ve tried to get rid of her…’ Wendy let out a nervous laugh. ‘I’ve never met anyone like her before—you simply can’t say no. I even ended up paying for her taxi because she didn’t have any money—the driver was about to call the police!’
‘Wendy?’ Mikael frowned, because he had never seen his clerk like this. Mikael dealt with the lowest of the low, and had only the best of staff around him—staff that were able to deal with the most difficult of people. ‘Where is she?’ he asked, glancing into the small waiting room.
‘She’s waiting in your office.’
‘What?’ She’d got past Wendy? This Mikael had to see. ‘What’s her name?’
‘She won’t tell me,’ Wendy said, ‘and she won’t tell me what she’s here for either. She refuses to discuss it with anyone but you.’
‘Okay.’ Mikael nodded. ‘Don’t worry. I shall sort it out.’
Mikael walked into his office and completely ignored his uninvited guest, who was standing by the window, looking out through a chink in the heavy curtains and watching the world go by.
Yet as much as he ignored her somehow Mikael was reminded of the rare beauty of the first glimpse of a new moon. Perhaps it was the way the light caught her silver robe or because she was so slender, but as he opened the bar fridge it was that image that was on his mind.
‘Mr Romanov!’
Her voice demanded that he acknowledge her.
‘Oh, sorry…’ Mikael’s voice was wry as, his back to her, he added a slice of lime and ice to a glass and then poured sparkling water. ‘Weren’t you getting enough attention?’
‘I expect to be greeted.’
‘Well, had you made an appointment then you would have been.’
He turned and looked at her, a golden ray of sun from the chink in the curtains serving as his spotlight. Her beauty was now possibly the biggest challenge of his day, for Mikael was momentarily sideswiped. Her black eyes were huge in her exquisite face, her hair thick and glossy, and her complexion quite simply flawless. His eyes roamed her face—as far as Mikael could tell she wasn’t even wearing make-up. She was the first woman to actually stun him—so much so that when she held out her hand Mikael handed her his drink.
How did that happen? Mikael wondered as he turned again and made another drink—for himself this time.
‘I am Princess Layla of Ishla,’ Layla said, because, given Mikael’s poor manners, perhaps he was not aware of to whom he was speaking.
‘Really?’ Mikael said.
Layla waited for him to continue.
‘So you’re the reason I was almost late for court this morning.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Your convoy held me up,’ Mikael said. ‘Look, I don’t know what your issue is—in fact I don’t even want to know. I’m in the middle of a very complicated case and I am going on leave soon.’
‘I know all about your case, but I need for you to speak with my brother. I want you tell him that I am taking a week off from royal duty and that he is not to look for me or inform my father.’
‘Can’t you tell him that?’
‘I have written it all in a letter that he must be reading about now. I need you to reiterate the contents to him,’ Layla said. ‘If I speak with him it will get all emotional and I might back down—that is why I want you to do it for me.’
‘You need an embassy.’
‘No,’ Layla shook her head. ‘I do not want to make a big incident—unless I have to, of course.’
He heard the warning note in her voice, saw then the fire in her eyes, and he understood why Wendy had been unable to say no to her. She was pretty unstoppable.
Mikael, though, could not be manipulated. ‘As I just said, I am near the end of a huge case. I’m not taking anything else on.’
‘You will make one phone call for me,’ Layla said. ‘But first you can arrange for some refreshments to be brought in.’ It had been a long afternoon of shopping after all.
Mikael felt the shock from the muscles in his face as they broke into a smile.
Was she for real?
‘You want me to arrange refreshments before I make your phone call?’
‘Just something light.’ Layla nodded. ‘Maybe some fruit, and also something sweet.’
Mikael pulled out a roll of mints. ‘Here’s your refreshments.’
She took one and popped it in her mouth, and he watched her eyes widen in delight as she rolled the mint across her tongue.
‘I like.’
So too, Mikael decided, did he!
‘ONE PHONE CALL,’ Mikael said.
But there was no way, Mikael knew, that this was going to go away with one phone call. He had only agreed to it because Layla had eked from him the first smile he had given in weeks.
He opened the curtains and invited her to take a seat.
‘First, though—’ Mikael went on, but Layla interrupted.
‘I give you some details.’
‘No,’ Mikael said. ‘First we need to discuss my retainer.’
‘Retainer?’
‘I’m very expensive,’ Mikael said.
‘Oh, you want payment up-front?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘I have this.’
Mikael was a master at keeping his face impassive—poker would have been a lucrative hobby if he’d