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Authors: Lisa Rayne

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Dammit.
He
couldn’t believe he’d been caught, not once but twice, during a rare flare of
female gawking. He didn’t usually ogle woman, particularly not at the office.
He had a strict personal policy against fraternizing with associates or any
firm staff. He’d learned the hard way while a junior associate working with his
father and grandfather that having the Remington name on the building and on
his driver’s license made him a target for schemers and gold diggers. If they
couldn’t coax him into marriage or trap him into fatherhood, they weren’t beyond
claiming a consensual encounter constituted sexual harassment.

“So,” Jordis replied to Eric Covington, shifting her attention
back to the discussion at hand, “are you saying I didn’t use logic when evaluating
the case the first time or you simply think I’m incapable of making a logical,
coherent analysis without your assistance?”

Eric’s smile faltered at the edges. “I didn’t say anything
like that. All I’m saying is we need to look beyond personal biases and analyze
each possible pro bono matter objectively.”

Michael leaned forward in his chair. He didn’t like the direction
the discussion had taken. He was about to put a stop to it when Chase warned
him not to interrupt with a subtle shake of his head. Michael accepted the
warning and held his tongue. It didn’t sit well with him, but Chase had
shepherded the group alone for the last few months so he would defer to Chase’s
judgment for the time being.

Jordis’s direct gaze never wavered from Eric’s face. “Ah. So
you feel I’m biased and unable to be objective in this matter.”

Eric held up his hands in a gesture of truce. “Jordis,
there’s no need to get defensive. Let’s not make this personal.”

The corner of Jordis’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “Oh,
let’s
,”
she replied with a lilt on the last word. “Eric, why don’t you explain to us
exactly what personal biases I might have towards this potential client?” When
Eric didn’t reply immediately, she pressed him. “Is it the fact she’s a single
mom or that she lives in the inner city? Or, is there some other connection you
believe we have?”

A vacuum of sound permeated the conference room. Everyone
stared at Eric, waiting for his response.

Michael watched Eric’s jaw tense as the young man ground his
rear molars together. Anger stewed beneath the guy’s cool, macho surface.
Jordis had put him on the spot. He either had to retract his statement or come
up with a creative answer. If he failed to answer, everyone would assume he’d
based his comment on personal biases in the vein of those he’d claimed should
not be a part of the debate.

Michael looked at Jordis. She sat relaxed, a neutral but
pleasant expression on her face. Her right hand found its way back to her mug,
and her fingers once again traced the rim of the cup. She had the demeanor of
one simply waiting for her opponent to make his next move on a chessboard. He
wondered if she stayed this cool in court. The lady was no shrinking violet.
She handled tough situations head on and took the direct approach to handling
personal affronts. He liked that about her.

Intrigued
to see how Covington would handle the situation, Michael sat back in his chair.
As he did so, he glanced back at Chase who gave him a slight tilt of the head
as if to say,
I told you so.

* * *

Eric Covington was not a happy camper. He stood watching
Jordis Morgan leave the conference room chatting conversationally with a redhead.
By the time the pro bono case discussion concluded, Jordis had won the day, and
the single mom had new legal counsel.

“Hey, dude, don’t feel bad,” Jonathan said to Eric as he
swatted Eric on the shoulder. Jonathan’s eyes followed Eric’s down the hall to
the retreating back of Jordis Morgan. “You know if you’re going to take on Ms.
Morgan, you’d better have done your homework. That lady has the sharpest mind
in the department. Actually, probably in the whole damn firm. Don’t let the
pretty face fool you. Underneath her ladylike exterior lies the heart of a pit
bull.”


I
have the sharpest mind in the department,” Eric replied.

“Well, it sure didn’t come off that way today,
studly
.
Keep telling yourself that.” Jonathan laughed as he gave Eric’s shoulder
another pat then headed for his office.

Eric frowned, internally acknowledging Jonathan was right.
Jordis had made him look like an idiot and in front of Remington, the future
managing partner of the firm. By the time they’d finished debating the
intricacies of their respective preferred pro bono cases, he’d come across as a
pretentious snob. She’d made it look like he’d assumed because of her race
she’d have some special affinity for an inner-city dweller and the plight of a
single mother.

He’d looked even more foolish when Jordis had pointed out
the prospective plaintiff was a young white woman named Cynthia Gardner who’d
gotten pregnant at the end of her senior year of high school. Rather than stand
by her, her high school sweetheart chose to accept a college basketball scholarship
and abandoned the teen to her own devices. After her judgmental, self-righteous
parents put her out, the single mom had found it hard to support her child
without state assistance and subsidized housing.

Granted, he probably did have some preconceived notions
about how Jordis had gotten her lateral position in the firm. Diversity
initiatives were all the rage in major law firms across the country. No matter
the firm propaganda about being more aware of subconscious biases that had
excluded qualified candidates in the past, he figured women and minorities
simply got special consideration. No way that leggy, supermodel type had
credentials or a professional record to match his. He intended to be the star
senior associate of this division, and he wasn’t going to let some woman
upstage him.

His father always said a woman had two places: behind a man
or beneath him. Jordis Morgan needed to learn her place—behind him like
the rest of the women in the group. Then again, he thought as he watched her
feminine curves disappear down the hall, maybe she’d be better off beneath him.
Getting her in his bed would certainly give them a better outlet for the sparks
that flew whenever they were in the same room together.

Eric slid his hands into his pockets and creased his brow.
He looked over to find Michael Remington watching him. Chase put his hand on
Remington’s shoulder and guided the partner out of the conference room.

Eric
nodded at the two partners then headed for his own office to consider his next
move.

Chapter 4

Jordis entered her
office with Vivian O’Connor on her heels.

Vivian perched on
the arm of one of Jordis’s guest chairs. Natural blond strands laced her long
red hair, making it look like it had been set on fire by the sun. The striking
color almost didn’t look real. She had green eyes and flawless fair skin
sprinkled with freckles across her upper cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

With her classic
Irish beauty, Vivian had the looks to play the sexuality card to get what she
wanted if she so chose, but she preferred to let her brains and her work
product speak for themselves. Her lips twisted with barely contained mirth.
“So, what did you think of Mr. Managing Partner finally gracing us with his
presence?”

Jordis sat down
behind her desk. “Future managing partner.”

The eye roll Vivian
gave her would have done any sixteen-year-old diva proud. “Okay. So
what did you think
of Mr.
Future
Managing Partner?”

“What’s to think?”

“What’s to think?
Are you kidding me? Every woman in that room looked like she wanted to dribble
chocolate all over him and lick it off.”

Jordis chuckled. “If
you say so.”

“If I say so?”
Vivian leaned forward. “Are you telling me you found the elusive Mr. Remington
to be something short of delicious?”

“Look, he and Chase
are our supervising attorneys. I’m not even going to go there. Besides, he’s
not really my type.”

Vivian gave an
unladylike snort. “If that man isn’t your type, then either you don’t do white
guys or you’re gay.”

With an indulgent
smile, Jordis silently shook her head.

When Jordis failed
to respond, Vivian pushed, “Well, which is it?”

“What difference
does it make?” Jordis flipped open a file folder and picked up her pen.

Vivian ignored the
dismissive action.

“You need to get out
of my office and go bill some hours.”

“Oh, come on,
Jordis. Give me something here.” Vivian slipped into the chair. “Are you going
to make this a three-way competition for Mr. Remington’s affections?”

“Three-way
competition?”

“Yeah. Everyone
knows Alyson has the partner in her sights. And all Lizzie talks about is how
gorgeous Michael Remington is. You’d think the child had never seen an
attractive man before.”

Only one year out of
law school, the blond Lizzie was the youngest of the bunch and still had a
college-sorority-girl vibe going on. Jordis half expected her to drop her books
the next time she came across Michael Remington in the hall with the hope he’d
stop to pick them up for her. At thirty-two, Jordis found the peppy, boy-crazy
antics of the younger woman annoying.

“Well, Lizzie is
still young. I doubt the guys at her law school had quite the machismo of Mr.
Remington. I suspect those twenty-something hormones of hers are pinging all
over the place.” Jordis dropped her pen back on her desk. Vivian clearly wasn’t
going anywhere until she’d gotten the chance to talk this thing through. “What
about you? Wouldn’t it be a four-way competition?”

Vivian laughed,
leaned back and crossed her legs. “Honey, I definitely don’t do white guys!”

That made Jordis
laugh, too. “Vivian, you’re a mess!”

The redhead simply
smiled at her, a genuine smile. She’d started at the firm a few weeks before
Jordis. A down-home kind of girl, Vivian lived a what-you-see-is-what-you-get
lifestyle. She spoke her mind and didn’t pull punches, which was one of the
many reasons Jordis liked her, but Vivian did have one major flaw. She was a
diehard gossip. If office gossip existed, Vivian would ferret it out and
happily divulge what she’d learned. Jordis had no intention of sharing any
personal opinions with her about their gorgeous senior partner.

“Look, Vivian, there
is no way I’m dishing with you about Michael Remington. You aren’t going to
stand around the coffee station gossiping about me. Alyson and Lizzie are welcome
to him. I’ve got one thing in my sights—partnership at the end of this
fiscal year.”

Vivian gave Jordis a
look that suggested she doubted whether to believe her. “If you say so.” She
rose to leave. “As for gossiping about you around the coffee machine, I’d never
do that to you. Anything you said to me would be strictly between us.” Vivian
made her way to the door before she added, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, and
fair warning, beauty queen. Alyson’s a vulture. If you decide Mr.
Tall-Dark-And-Wanted floats your boat after all, watch your back. She’s not
above putting a knife in it.”

Jordis grimaced. Not
because of what Vivian said about Alyson. Jordis had already figured that out.
What grated her was the “beauty queen” moniker. Others called her that behind
her back, and she hated it. Vivian was the only one with the guts—and the
integrity—to say it to her face, and Vivian mostly did it to get a rise
out of her.

Vivian noticed
Jordis’s grimace and chuckled on her way out the door.

* * *

In Michael’s office,
Chase leaned against the closed office door with his arms crossed over his
chest.

Michael lounged on
the office sofa. “Okay, start talking.” He placed his feet on the mahogany sofa
table and crossed them at the ankles. “Are associate meetings always like
that?”

“See what you’ve
been missing?” Chase grinned.

Michael shook his
head. “What’s the deal with this Covington character?”

“He’s a real piece
of work isn’t he?”

“He’s an arrogant,
sexist prick is what he is.”

Chase laughed.
“Yeah, that too.” Pushing off the door, he moved to the armchair perpendicular
to the sofa.

“So, remind me how
we ended up with Mr. Personality?”

“He’s the nephew of
Stormy Willis over in Business and Finance. He’s been at the firm since he was
a first year associate but only switched to IP litigation about three years
ago. Apparently, he went to a top tier law school, finished in the top third of
his class, and has an impressive courtroom record. And, of course, no one is
more impressed with his credentials than Covington himself.”

“Clearly. Do he and
Morgan go at it like that every week?”

“No. You just got
lucky today.”

Michael snorted.

“Seriously,” Chase
continued. “Eric is a smartass to pretty much everyone in the group. As you
witnessed, he tends to act more patronizing with the women. He’s tested Jordis
for weeks. Until today, he hadn’t pushed her too hard so she’s responded with
enough fire to check him but hadn’t engaged any heavy artillery. For some
reason, Covington decided to grandstand today to make a point. Perhaps he was
trying to impress you.”

Michael snorted
again. “Yeah, right. He certainly failed at that.”

Chase nodded. “Well,
I’ve been waiting for the day Jordis decided to take off the kid gloves. I
always suspected in head-to-head combat, I should bet on the lady.”

Michael gave an
appreciative whistle. “Man, she’s one cool customer. Is she always that
smooth?”

“I’ve never seen her
lose her temper, but rumor has it she’s not a lady you want to cross. From what
I could find out about her, when she goes after an opponent she does it with a
smile and the finesse you witnessed earlier. Apparently, they don’t realize
they’ve been sliced and diced until they’re lying bleeding on the floor.”

Chase rose and
wandered to Michael’s desk. He looked down at the two photos clipped to the
resumes Michael had abandoned earlier. He grabbed them and turned back to
Michael. “I guess you have a better understanding now of your possible replacements
for me.” He tossed the dossiers onto the coffee table, one of Eric Covington
and one of Jordis Morgan.

“Yeah.” Michael
placed his feet on the floor. “I certainly like Jordis’s fire. Not to mention
she clearly does her homework. She spouted the relevant facts of the Gardner
file without once looking at any notes. That’s impressive.”

“The entire group is
really bright, but yeah, Jordis stands out when it comes to the details. She’s
helped me a couple of times with some motions and a few deposition preps. She
has a real knack for reviewing large quantities of information and finding
patterns and connections others miss.”

Michael aligned the
photographs side-by-side. “And if I were grading them on their arguments today,
Covington wouldn’t make the cut.”

“Well, then, I guess
you have your answer.” Chase sat back down. “Jordis would certainly be my
choice for my replacement.”

Michael wasn’t so
sure. He had no doubt the lady lawyer would perform beautifully as his second
chair, but the sexual effect she’d had on him today gave him pause. He couldn’t
remember the last time he’d gotten a hard-on in a business setting. In fact, he
didn’t think he ever had. If she had that effect on him in a full conference
room when they weren’t interacting directly, what would happen if they worked
closely together for an extended period of time?

Chase probed into
his silence. “Michael?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Maybe? What maybe?
A mind like a steel trap, exceptional debating skills, and extensive courtroom
experience. What’s your maybe?”

“I don’t know.”
Michael blew out a breath. “Nothing. You’re right. Jordis is the clear choice.”
It wouldn’t be fair to select Covington over her because Michael couldn’t keep
his libido under control. He’d simply make sure to keep his focus on the case
and off those long shapely legs. His mind drifted at the thought.

“Not to mention, all
that comes in a package perfectly designed to make a man want to come home to
her every night.”

It took a few seconds
for the comment to register with Michael. He looked up with a frown to find
Chase watching him with a knowing half smile. “Hey, what happened to all that
‘no woman can replace my Grace’ business?”

“I’m widowed, not dead.
My eyes work just fine. As do yours apparently.” Chase gave a look that dared
Michael to challenge him.

Michael’s expression veiled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, puh-leez.”
Chase pushed to his feet. “You forget to whom you’re speaking. You can drop the
poker face. I know you too well. I saw you checking her out . . . more than
once.”

Michael looked at
Chase without responding.

“Yeah, that’s what I
thought.” Chase headed for the door. Before he opened it, he turned back towards
Michael. “You know, it looks like Ms. Morgan is going to shake things up around
here in more ways than one.” Smiling, he added, “Perhaps the cure for your
infatuation with the New Year’s Eve mystery woman is in the office around the
corner and down the hall.”

Michael flipped him
the bird. Chase laughed and exited the office. Michael could still hear him
laughing after the heavy mahogany door clicked shut.

To his frustration,
Michael spent the rest of the afternoon trying to dissect the weaknesses in the
Dexter Drug motion for summary judgment without success. Caramel skin, hazel
eyes, and gams the stuff of erotic fantasies kept traipsing across his
concentration. He wanted to talk to her again. That niggling feeling he’d met
her before still bothered him. He felt uptight and on edge, and Jordis Morgan
was the cause. She drew him on a biological level even though his intellect
kept sending his impulses the exact opposite message.

He pushed up
abruptly from his desk and grabbed his duffle bag. Maybe a good, hard workout
would take his mind off the distracting Ms. Morgan. He needed to talk to her
about stepping into the Metra Pharmaceuticals case, but he wasn’t ready to do
that yet. He would put it off for a few days. He needed time to get his head on
straight, maybe even get laid. He suspected his drought in the area of sexual
relations fueled a lot of his lusty enthusiasm for Ms. Morgan.

He hit the weights
hard then took a two-mile run around the track. By the time he finished, he was
loose, sweaty and relaxed. A quick shower made him feel like a new man. Under
the heat of the blow dryer, he ran his fingers through the cropped hair at the
top of his head. He’d only recently gotten his hair cut this way. He’d worn it
long through the first part of winter, like he had in college. Back then, it
got him more play with the ladies. Now, the longer hair didn’t gel with his
professional, killer litigator persona. He tended to keep his style short and
neat when he had to appear in court, like he had this week.

After he returned to
work, the rest of the workday progressed with productive efficiency. The
following day, however, he found himself drifting into the same unfocused
predicament. He also found himself in the weight room and on the track the
following day and each of the two days after that. The sight of Jordis in the
hall or during the briefest interaction aggravated his restlessness. Now that
he’d met her, he felt as if he ran into her constantly. It was like buying a
new car. Once you decided on a particular model, the number of similar cars on
the road seemed to multiply by a thousand.

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