“Sure, sweetheart.” Angel got up and walked into the kitchen.

“Water, Angel. She’s had too much juice today.”

“Okay.” Angel filled a sippy cup that she kept for Jillian with water and one ice cube from the door of her refrigerator, returning to the room and handing it to the baby.

“So? Tell me something about it.”

“Just a creep accused of raping his stepdaughter. The poor kid was so terrified, she didn’t come forward with it right away. By the time they did a physical exam and rape kit, there wasn’t enough evidence.”

“They’re not prosecuting? Kenny’s office isn’t involved?”

“Yes, but he isn’t working on it personally. It basically comes down to this girl’s word against the defendant’s. Her hymen was broken, but she’s sixteen, so it’s likely the defense will try to smear her and say she’d had sex with a bevy of boys. Kenneth thinks they’ll drag her through the mud badly enough that she might never recover. Ugh, it’s a mess. The dude is fairly successful, so the judge slapped a gag order on everyone involved in the case, and the files are sealed. That bastard’s rights matter more than the victim’s. I hate how the system works. It makes me sick.”

“Is her mother on her side?”

Angel nodded. “That’s the blessing. She took her child out of the situation immediately, so at least this man can’t abuse her again. I only hope I can do enough to get him behind bars.”

“What does Kenny say?”

“It will depend on her credibility as a witness and what I can document. The problem is, I have to put down what the tests show. That’s the curse of being a clinical psychologist and not a therapist. It’s not about my opinion. It’s about what I can prove.”

“I know you’ll do your best, Angel.”

“I have a deposition on Tuesday morning, so I have to examine the transcripts. The lawyer is a viper, and the guy himself is pretty scary. That’s why I don’t need Alex Avery consuming so much grey matter. I can’t afford this right now.”

“So? Move him out of your head and into your bed, babes. The solution is a four letter word. F. U. C. K.”

“Yeah, I get the picture, Becca. I think you’re delusional, but thanks.” There was no way in hell a night in his bed would banish thoughts of him, would it? More likely, she’d be even more consumed… unless the sex sucked. “Humph!” Angel huffed. Like that was even a possibility.

Jillian toddled up and put her gooey hand on Angel’s knee. “Anja, dance!”

“Yeah, Anja,” Becca deadpanned with a grin. “Dance!”

Angel’s face lit up and she giggled, scooping up a squealing Jillian and hurrying over to the stereo. “Dance? Okay, let’s dance! What should we dance to, honeybun?”

“Boogee Jooze!” Jillian said happily, and Becca burst out laughing.

“Boogie Shoes, it is!” Angel flipped on Jillian’s favorite music and immediately the little girl began bouncing in her arms, giggling in delight. Angel sailed her around like an airplane during the horn bridge and the two of them fell into fits of laughter.

Becca settled back and watched her baby giggle in the arms of her best friend as they bounced to the music. Angel and Jillian adored each other to the point that Jillian almost forgot about her mother when Angel was in the room.

The doorbell rang and Becca jumped up to answer it while Angel started the music over again at Jillian’s insistence. When she opened it, she was faced with a big bouquet of deep purple Canna lilies topped off by a Yankee’s baseball cap, which was all that was visible of the deliveryman behind them.

“Delivery for Dr. Hemming,” the boy said.

“Uh, just a second. Angel!” she called. “ANGEL!” she shouted again over the music and then took the square crystal vase from the boy. “She’ll give you a tip. Hold on.”

Angel hurried to the door with the baby attached at her hip. “Pretty!” Jillian exclaimed and reached toward the flowers. Angel gasped at the beautiful bouquet of at least 3 dozen of the gorgeous blooms. “Hi. Who are these from?” Angel asked, already knowing the answer.

“Alexander Avery, ma’am.”

Angel inhaled deeply. “Of course. Just a second, I’ll get my purse.”

The boy shook his head and put up a hand to keep her from walking away. “That’s not necessary, Dr. Hemming. Mr. Avery was very generous. But, there is this, too.” He reached out with a small box wrapped in silver paper with a dark purple organza ribbon that matched the flowers.

“Thank you. Is there a card?” Angel asked. Becca came and took Jillian out of Angel’s arms.

“No, Anja!” The little girl protested. “Anja!” She started to wail, big tears rolling down her cheeks as she reached out for Angel.

“With the flowers, ma’am. Have a nice afternoon.”

“You, also.” Angel closed the door and walked back into the kitchen where Becca had set the bouquet on her marble-topped, kitchen island. Her hands trembled as she pulled the white card free. Her name was handwritten on the envelope, but that would be from the florist, no doubt. Angel glanced up at Becca, who looked amused. Jillian still struggled in her mother’s arms.

“Anja! Anja!” she cried.

“Just a minute, sweets. Angel will take you soon,” she soothed the little girl and then opened the card.


These reminded me of you… So unique and distinctive, beautiful on the outside, but deeper shades, even more brilliant, inside. I can’t wait to discover more about you.

Looking forward to tonight,

Alex

Angel was speechless as her hand reached out to touch a delicate bloom. Chocolate Canna lilies were very expensive—deep purple in the center fading to deep lavender around the edges. He doesn’t do anything half-assed, that’s for sure.

She picked up the box then pulled the purple ribbon and ripped the paper away. Inside was the newest version of iPhone. A fucking iPhone?

Angel laughed even as the phone rang and Alex’s name appeared on the screen. She held it up and showed it to Becca.

“The man’s a genius and he’s gorge. Now if his peen measures up, I’ll have to kill myself.”

“Quiet, Becca,” Angel said shortly, rolling her eyes, and answered the phone. “Thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”

“It’s my pleasure. I hope you don’t think the phone is too over the top, but I didn’t have your number, and I wanted to hear your voice.” Amusement laced every one of his words. Angel could picture the smug expression on his handsome face. “Plus… I couldn’t have you helpless if you needed to get in touch with me.”

Angel laughed. “Alex, one thing I never am is helpless. Don’t you know that yet?”

Alex chuckled on the other end of the line, his voice low and velvety. Angel’s heart hammered in her chest when he ignored her comment. “I’ve planned a very special evening, so don’t go getting cold feet.”

“I assure you, there is nothing cold about me.” She smiled secretly as she thought of her dress, her preparations for the evening, and his audible intake of breath. Her words were meant to seduce and tease. “So a cocktail dress, then?”

“Mmmm… please. I can’t wait to see you. Eight o’clock, remember?”

“Yes.” Angel wasn’t sure what else to say. Her pulse was hammering and her palms were sweating. The man affected her like no one ever had.

“We’re going to have a nice time, Angel. I’ll be good.”

“Is that a promise?” she teased softly. Alex was laughing when she turned off the phone before giving him a chance to answer.

Becca was leaning up against the counter with a now-sleeping child curled into her shoulder and neck.

“What did he say?”

“That he’ll be good.” Angel’s eyes flashed with laughter.

“Wow, that bastard is smooth, I’ll give him that. You better get your big girl panties on.”

“Or off, you mean,” Angel said with a confidence she didn’t feel. Alex Avery wasn’t someone to tangle with unless you expected to get burned. But in what way? That was the delicious question that Angel needed answered. “Not sure if he’s playing hardball or softball.”

Becca rolled her eyes. “One thing is certain, there is definitely going to be some kind of balling going down tonight.”

The room blurred before Angel’s eyes as she lost herself in her thoughts. Yes, she had to bring out the big guns so that she remained in control of the situation. The more prepared she made herself, the more likely she would come out the victor in this game of cat and mouse. But how would she get the taste she wanted so badly and come out unscathed? How, indeed?

* * *

Everything had to be perfect. Alex shook his head in self-admonishment. He kept hammering himself. This was a fucking date, nothing more. No different than any other he’d been on in his life. Hundreds of dates and he’d never been nervous. Until now.

As Alex rode the short distance to Angel’s apartment in the company limousine, he smoothed down the front of his silk shirt. He’d dressed with more care than usual. His deep brown Armani suit was tailored to perfection, downplayed with no tie, but the expensive cream shirt gave his skin a golden glow where the top two buttons were left open. His hair was its usually messy perfection, his jaw clean-shaven. If he were honest, he had serious intentions of getting more than close to Angeline tonight. He remembered how she smelled and how soft her skin was and suddenly found himself pulling at the crotch of his pants as his cock swelled and his heart raced in anticipation. He’d never been so turned on by the mere thought of someone before. It was an uncomfortable problem to have.

“Fuck, Avery. Get some control.”

“Did you say something, Sir?” the driver asked and glanced in the rearview mirror.

“Nothing, Martin. Thank you.”

The sun was still up but low on the horizon. Alex glanced out the window, watching it flash between the buildings as it set. He pulled in a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how the evening would end, wasn’t even sure how he wanted it to end.

He’d argued with himself for the past 24 hours since he’d come face-to-face with her again. He had to be honest with himself and with her. Angeline Hemming was not a woman who settled for ambiguity or unanswered questions. And there was no question, when it came to his desire for her—he wanted her… badly.

The question was, could he control the want long enough to get to know her? Alex was certain fucking her would only make him want more. To get what he truly wanted, he’d have to treat her with kid gloves. Angel stirred something deep within him that, for the first time, didn’t originate in his groin, but it ended there.

Martin pulled up in front of Angel’s apartment building and came around to open the door for his boss. The formality of it grated on Alex’s nerves, but he forced himself to remain in the car until Martin completed the task. Alex Avery was nervous. He was actually nervous. It was a rare occurrence, only happening when he had a particularly precarious and huge business deal on the table; when the stakes were particularly high. For some reason, he felt the same way now.

Pulling on the cuffs of his sleeves under his jacket, he ran a hand through his thick mane on his way through the doors, the light bit of hair gel he’d used resisting his fingers.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself under his breath. The doorman stepped aside and pulled the door open so Alex could enter. There was a concierge and security in the lobby. He took in the marble floors and brass handles on the doors, the dark wood and eclectic furnishings. All very elegant.

Alex walked to the desk to speak to the concierge. “Alex Avery. I’m here for Angeline Hemming.” His breath hitched as he waited to hear the man tell him to go straight to hell. It certainly was something she would do. Just to show him who was boss.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Avery. Dr. Hemming is expecting you. Apartment 315. I’ll let her know you’re on your way up.”

Alex’s breathing eased as the elevator made the short trip to the top floor. When the doors opened, he quickly found the cherry wood door with the brass numbers and rang the bell. There was soft music coming from the other side, and he tented his fingers as he waited.

When it opened, his surprised eyes fell on Becca. She leaned against the door in ratty jeans and a pink T-shirt from the fitness club where she worked, her eyes raking him up and down in apparent appraisal.

Alex smirked at her. “Hello, Becca. Nice to see you again. I’m here for Angeline.”