hair had been trimmed to just above her collar, and it curled very subtly at the

ends. She had that tanned, healthy gleam that women who worked outdoors

often had, but beneath it, she seemed tired. And a little thinner. She was so

damn beautiful, and Leslie drew a long slow breath to calm the butterß ies in her

stomach.

When the state’s attorney called Dev to testify, Leslie positioned herself so that

the gentleman in front of her shielded her enough that Dev was not likely to see

her. Witnesses were usually instructed to look only at the jury or the questioning

attorney during testimony. They rarely scanned the audience. Leslie could hear

Dev, and she did not need to see her to know exactly how she looked as she

answered. Hazel eyes intent, her handsome face honest and passionate.

The state’s attorney had indeed gotten smarter with his questioning, but Dev

was an ideal expert witness and made the attorney look better than he actually

was. Dev reduced difÞ cult science to understandable concepts and made

human arguments that were guaranteed to sway the jury. Her personality alone

was a signiÞ cant added beneÞ t to her value as an expert defending the river

and its inhabitants. Knowing Dev, Leslie knew that none of her answers were

calculated, but what she truly believed.

When the corporation’s defense attorney began his cross-examination with a

belligerent tone, Leslie shook her head, feeling sorry for him. She edged over

slightly so she could see Dev’s face as Dev countered every vehement challenge

in a calm, reasoned fashion. Then, after a particularly sarcastically phrased

question from the attorney, something in Dev’s face changed. Her eyes glinted,

and the bold planes of her face grew stronger. Leslie held her breath.

Dev leaned forward and regarded the attorney as if he had just made the most

ridiculous statement she’d ever heard. Then she inclined her body toward the

jury and moved the microphone a half inch closer to her face, even though her

voice carried well without it. The jury


clearly hung on her every word at this point, waiting for whatever critical

statement she was about to make.

“What you have to understand,” Dev said, her eyes seeming to meet those of

every juror, “is that Þ sh are people too.”

Leslie bit her lip to stiß e her exclamation, grateful that she wasn’t the one going

up against Dev. It was apparent that every single member of the jury believed

every word Dev said. The corporation might as well have been dumping nuclear

waste into their backyards, because that was how they now thought of those

contaminated waters. Dev had made it personal for them with the elegant

strength of her conviction.

Leslie hated when the opposing team used her own strategy against her, and

she’d never seen it done better. The questioning attorney appeared to share her

assessment and hastily concluded his cross-examination.

When Dev Þ nished her testimony and stepped down from the witness box, she

hesitated for a second, her head tilted as if she were listening to someone

speaking, although the room was quiet. Then she resumed walking, her gaze

lasering to Leslie.

Leslie nodded hello, waiting anxiously for a response. Then Dev smiled, the

same smile of welcome she had greeted Leslie with a thousand times before. It

had always made Leslie feel beautiful and special, and it still did.

v

Dev checked her watch and tried not to Þ dget. It had already been late in the

afternoon when she’d Þ nished testifying, so she knew court would adjourn at

any minute. She wanted to verify that she wouldn’t be recalled to testify, and

then she wanted to Þ nd Leslie. The Þ rst glimpse of her after a month of

thinking about her had nearly stopped Dev in her tracks. At Þ rst she’d thought

it was some kind of hallucination brought about by the fact that she’d done

nothing on the three-hour train ride but replay every conversation with Leslie

she’d ever had. Fortunately, she knew the details of the case thoroughly and

hadn’t needed to review them, because the closer she came to New York City,

the more her concentration had waned. Just knowing she was going to be in the

same city as Leslie made her blood hum. She knew it was crazy, but she

couldn’t stop it.

Then to actually see her, sitting in the courtroom so calm and


composed with her perfectly styled hair and subtle makeup and fashionable suit,

had pretty much thrown her off the tracks. She had to talk to her. Just talk to

her. Friends could do that, right? That was normal.

But the churning in her stomach that felt like hunger but wasn’t—that wasn’t

normal. The way her skin tingled, shimmering like the air just before a huge bolt

of lightning dispelled the pent-up electricity in the midst of a storm—that wasn’t

normal.

Dev studied her hands, clasped loosely in her lap. They were trembling.

None of this was normal. She was deluding herself, again. But it didn’t matter,

she still had to see her. Just—see her.

“Great job,” the state’s attorney murmured, jolting Dev back to the present. She

looked around and saw that the jury box was empty and the crowd in the

courtroom dispersing. Turning rapidly she searched the room behind her, but the

aisle was already Þ lled with people Þ ling out. She couldn’t see Leslie.

“Will you need me again?” Dev asked briskly.

“Shouldn’t. If you can hang around until noon tomorrow, I’ll call you to let you

know for sure. I assume you’ll be staying in the city?”

“Yes. I’m at the Hilton at Fifty-fourth and Sixth.”

“What do you say we have some dinner. I think we can safely celebrate. You

really nail—”

“Ah, thanks, no,” Dev said, sidestepping into the central aisle. “I appreciate it,

but I’ve got another appointment. Call me and let me know about tomorrow.”

“All right. Thanks again!”

The aisle was clearer now, and Dev pushed hurriedly through the double doors

into the hallway beyond. It was empty, and the pain of disappointment was so

sharp she gasped. Dazed, uncertain now that she had even seen her, Dev

mechanically pushed the down button on the elevator, stepped in, and rode to

the lobby.

She was halfway to the front doors when she heard her name.

“Dev?”

Spinning around, Dev saw her standing off to the side beneath a marble

archway. She stared for a heartbeat and then another, and when Leslie didn’t

disappear, she cautiously approached her.

“Les?”

“Hi,” Leslie said, smiling almost shyly.


“What are you doing here?”

“My mother told me you were coming down to testify, so I thought I’d do a little

reconnaissance and see what kind of ammunition the other side was using.”

Leslie brushed her hair away from her face, a nervous gesture that was totally

unlike her. She’d never actually been alone with Dev when she’d been aware of

what was between them. Not when there hadn’t been insurmountable barriers

keeping them apart.

She hadn’t been this keyed up around anyone ever, not Mike on their Þ rst date

or Rachel the Þ rst time they’d made love. The only person who had ever made

her feel anything like this buzzing excitement had been Dev, years ago, and

she’d failed to recognize what it meant then.

But she knew now. “You know, Þ eld research.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Dev couldn’t hide her foolish grin. She felt just about as dizzy as

she used to when she was sixteen and she’d leave school later than everyone

else because she’d had detention for showing up late or smart-mouthing a

teacher and Leslie would be waiting for her.

All her anger and resentment would fade at the Þ rst sight of Leslie’s smile. Dev

leaned her shoulder against the marble pillar, a wisp of the cocky teenager she’d

been in her stance. “So, Counselor. What do you think?”

Leslie edged closer, as if she were drawn by a magnet and helpless to resist the

pull. She did just barely manage to resist slipping her hand beneath the edge of

Dev’s jacket and touching her. But her Þ ngers quivered with the need for

contact. Her voice came out breathy, but she couldn’t control that either. “I

thought you were fabulous. If I ever see your name on an expert list, I’m

recommending we settle.”

Dev laughed, knowing Leslie was playing with her. It felt so good.

So good to tease with her again. She used to think it was the lake that created

the magic around them, that made the rest of the world fade away so there was

only the two of them. Maybe she’d been wrong, because they couldn’t be

farther from the lake than they were right now and she felt it still. The magic.

Watching the happiness light Leslie’s eyes, she felt the dream tremble and surge

back to life.

“Let me take you to dinner,” Leslie said quickly. “You’re not going right back,

are you?”

If she had intended to go home, Dev would have changed her plans

immediately. She shook her head. “I’m here until tomorrow.”

“Where are you staying?”


Dev told her, lifting her overnighter. “I should probably go check in now.” She

didn’t move, loath to let Leslie out of her sight. “I could meet you somewhere?”

“Why don’t I go with you?” Leslie said, having difÞ culty thinking clearly when

every nerve in her body was jangling. Since her mother had told her a week

before about Dev’s upcoming trial and she’d tracked down the details, she’d

anticipated seeing Dev. As the day had drawn closer, her anxiety—part

excitement, part uncertainty—had climbed exponentially to the point where she

could barely sleep. Now Dev was here, and she wasn’t wasting a minute of their

time together. “We can walk to dinner somewhere from your hotel.”

“Sure. That sounds great.” Dev thought anything sounded great as long as she

could spend the evening with Leslie. Like an addict who knew she would wake

up bathed in the clammy sweat of remorse and regret in the morning but who

nevertheless downed the next drink or shot the next line or laid down the next

bet, Dev reached for Leslie’s hand. She didn’t care how much it hurt tomorrow.

Tonight the wounds that never completely healed would fade for a few merciful

hours.

“Let’s go.”

Still holding Dev’s hand, Leslie hailed a cab and they climbed into the backseat.

Their thighs brushed as the cabbie swerved through rush-hour trafÞ c with the

reckless abandon of a man with a death wish.

At one point the cab jerked so violently that Leslie was thrown into Dev, and

Dev automatically curved her arm around Leslie’s shoulders.

Leslie wrapped her arm around Dev’s waist to steady herself. When the cab

resumed a somewhat smoother course, Leslie didn’t move away.

Dev stared straight ahead through the windshield, but she wasn’t watching the

trafÞ c or the street signs. She wasn’t aware of anything except Leslie leaning

against her and the pressure of Leslie’s arm wrapped around her middle. Her

heart was pounding, or maybe that was Leslie’s. Blood thundered through her

chest, heat kindled in the depths of her abdomen, and she shivered as waves of

arousal rolled through her. She stroked Leslie’s arm and her Þ ngertips burned.

“I can’t do this, Les,” Dev whispered, realizing that unlike the addict, she had no

tolerance for her addiction. The pleasure would destroy her long before

morning. “I thought I could. But I can’t.”

“Do what?” Leslie murmured, following the pulse rippling along Dev’s neck

through heavy lids. Her body felt tight, like ripe fruit ready to burst in the sun.


“I can’t be this close to you.” Dev shuddered as Leslie smoothed her palm in a