The Claim (17 page)

“You always kill me,” he replied, leaning down to take her mouth. Was there anything more perfect than this? His Annie, breasts bared, mouth parted under his, thighs spread on his desk ready for him. All for him. The tip of his cock glistened with pre-cum. He couldn’t resist stroking his palm over the length, squeezing at the base to not give in so quickly.

“Hurry!” Anna murmured, wrapping a leg around his waist. “Your assistant doesn’t appreciate locked doors.”

“He fucking will do,” Rocco vowed. He hooked her panties aside with such determination, the delicate fabric ripped.

“You are kidding me.”

“That’ll show you,” he retorted, thrusting deep into her juicy heat.  She sighed, arching her back at the contact.

“Maybe this was a good idea.”

“Best idea ever.” He pressed until every inch of his cock was gripped by her pussy.
More. Now. Harder
.

He spread her over the desk, as he’d imagined since his first day at the firm, and gripped the edge of the other side. Anna’s legs rose with the motion and she gripped his shirt with two tight fists. A voice at the back of his head asked him how the hell he’d explain to Charles that he’d broken his desk into two, but he’d get around it. Instinct forced him to fuck as hard as possible, overtaking all rationality. The desk shook and dislodged the phone and overturned his computer monitor. He grunted her name against her lips as she writhed beneath him, taking everything he gave her and giving back just the same. She gave a low cry that turned into a wail as he picked up the pace, racing them both toward a climax.

“Shh,” he warned. “People will hear you.”

“Fuck off!” she growled back, “and don’t you dare stop. Oh...oh...oh holy fuck.” It made him laugh until his own body seized above her, all sensations reserved for the cum that tore from him and deep into Anna.

They collapsed against the wood, thankfully with no telltale creaks of an imminent crack.

“That underwear,” Anna breathed, “cost forty-five pounds a pair. You can buy me a replacement.”

He was far too satisfied to argue with her, so instead he eased her legs back around his waist and kissed her slowly. Someone firmly knocked on the door.

“Mr. Mamione? We’ve got that lunch meeting in a half hour?”

“I’ll meet you downstairs!” he called back, gruff and annoyed at the interruption. Reluctantly he pulled away, his cock glossed with their combined juices. He gently pressed the swollen lips of her pussy together and watched her shudder at his touch. “Can’t have you running around looking like I just fucked you.”

She looked delicious. Flushed, mussed and all his. “Mr. Mamione,” she said primly, pushing him away and hopping off the desk.

“Ms. Taylor.” He handed her a tissue from the box that had toppled to the floor. They both rearranged themselves to a semblance of normality.

“Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You’re a dick,” she fumed, brushing the wrinkles from her skirt. “Leading me into temptation and evil.”

“And you love me.”

“Unfortunately for my eternal soul.” Elegantly, she threw her ruined panties in his bin, smoothed her palms along her figure and threw open his door. Her exit was ruined by the backward glance she sent him. All
I lied and let’s do this again
. With a laugh, he sorted out his office, grabbed his phone and jacket to head for the meeting. His phone vibrated with an e-mail message. It was Anna.

Here’s the website,
she’d written.
These are the ones I was wearing. Get those and anything else that you fancy ripping off me. Love you. xA

As much fun as it would be to make it a regularly scheduled thing, it really did make working in his office rather difficult. He could feel Anna underneath him, taste her, smell her. Working in the office library wasn’t any better, not after she’d coaxed him into a late-night research session that had nothing to do with research.

Everything between them was so good, better than it had been before. Now with Nonna’s case concluded—Enzo had transferred the money today—it could only get better.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“We have reservations which I’m going to give up, because?” He merely smiled at her, watching her eyes turn liquid soft. “Then you’d better get me some cake from Nonna while you’re at it.”

He leaned in to kiss her but saw movement from the corner of his eye. Two men and a woman approached. Clothing crumpled, dark shadows under the eyes. Coppers.

“Ms. Taylor?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Yes?”

“I am DS Kirkwood. This is DC Pacht and DC Elden.”

“Anna,” Rocco said softly, “don’t panic, okay? I’ll be right behind you.”

“I am arresting you on suspicion of receiving proceeds of crime contrary to the Proceeds of Crime Act 2002.”

Anna’s mouth was open in complete shock, not even reacting when she was turned around and handcuffed. “What station are you taking her to?” Rocco demanded, a fire in his belly at this treatment. He knew who was behind this, and once he got Anna out, they were going to be skinned alive.

“Charing Cross.”

They looked at each other instantly. “Oh God, not again!” Anna whispered.

“Right behind you,” Rocco insisted.

“You are?” DS Kirkwood asked.

“I’m her solicitor.” The timbre in his voice made the officer pale visibly.
Be fucking afraid, because you are not doing this to my Annie.

Anna’s legs were shaking under the table, mouth dry and her heart racing in her chest. This was not amusing, not one little bit. The shame of being arrested on the doorstep of her office paled in comparison to being in a horrible little room without any natural light. Logically, this could only be in regards to Nonna’s compensation money. But why arrest her? The money was from Enzo Vitale.

Rocco came into the room, tugged her to her feet and hugged her. “Are you all right?”

“No.”

He leaned back. “You can handle this. No worse than being in front of a cranky judge who isn’t seeing your point of view.”

His belief in her nearly set her off, and she was desperately, desperately trying not to cry. “I’ve got this.”

“Damn fucking right you do.”

The door opened and Rocco’s face darkened. “Ms. Taylor?” he asked. Mr. Receding-hairline-that-came-from-a-divorce-or-two had a paunch that spoke of pub dinners and a lack of exercise. “I’ve been dying to meet you.” His eyes glittered with something that bordered between lust and triumph. “I’m DS Norcross.”

Anna caught the sarcastic smile on Rocco’s lips. “Still just a DS?”

Norcross’s eyes flickered like a snake’s. “Sit down.” Sitting down again, Anna smoothed damp palms along her thighs. God, when she warned Rocco that she didn’t need protecting, really, she didn’t think about this. “Interview commenced at seven twenty-seven p.m. Well, Ms. Taylor, you are prettier in the flesh than you are in photos.”

Anna’s stomach exploded with rage. Rocco shifted his shoulders slightly, commanding Norcross’ attention. “You’ve got half a second to make a point. I know you’re already two complaints from ‘retirement.’”

“Retirement?” Anna asked. “Voluntary or suggested?”

He ignored them both. “You’re the solicitor of Elisabetta Mamione?”

“Yes.”

Norcross glanced down at his papers. “And you received a hundred eighty thousand pounds from her employer Enzo Vitale today.”

Is this guy having a fucking laugh? “It wasn’t placed in my hands,” she sneered, “but it went into our client’ account today, yes.”

“Do you know where the money’s come from?”

“Another bank account,” she replied flatly.

She risked a glance at Rocco, whose mouth twitched with amusement.

“But from where?”

Anna sighed. “Mr. Vitale isn’t a poor man. He’s got other business interests, so I assume the money came from there. Additionally, his father died and I would think he would have come into more money. So what’s your point?”

Norcross leaned back in satisfaction. “And it didn’t occur to you that the money could be the proceeds of a crime or several crimes?”

“Mr. Vitale is not my client.”

“Don’t the money-laundering regulations place responsibility on you to make sure you don’t receive proceeds of crime?”

Rocco touched a hand to her thigh and Anna held back. “Have you confirmed the source of the funds as criminal proceeds, or are you playing Cluedo again?”

Norcross flared with anger, “I am asking a question and your
client
should answer.”

“Yes, I do have a responsibility, which only goes as far as a genuine suspicion of the money being from an illegitimate source. Enzo Vitale has legitimate business interests. His father passed away. The man’s estate went through probate, so if there were any valid suspicions to that money, it should have been raised then, and by either the Probate Registry or the solicitors dealing with the probate itself.”

Norcross shrugged. “You still received it. You’re assisting in laundering dirty money.”

“The money has come from Mr. Vitale’s solicitors, therefore it’s already clean. You really ought to have a word with them.”

“Did you suspect the source of the funds may be illegal?”

Wow, this dude was determined to pin something on her, and to judge Anna and Rocco’s relationship on a normal time scale, she was just about Rocco’s lover. How bad would it have been if he’d gunned for her six years ago? “No.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s up to you.”

“Did you or did you not suspect the funds may be illegal?”

Rocco again tapped her thigh as he ordered quietly, “Modify your tone. We’re all apparently professionals here.”

“Why don’t you want to answer the question, Ms. Taylor?”

“The short answer is no. I had no reason to suspect the funds may be of an illegal source.”

“But you understand that you’ve received illegal gains? You’ve attempted to assist in laundering money?”

“Are you sure about this, or are you iPhone apping it?” Anna mocked.

Before Norcross could retort, Rocco asked, “Do you understand the legality of what you’re talking about? Because it’s drummed into our heads before we’ve finished qualifying.”

“Look, if I don’t have any suspicions and I have conducted a legitimate litigation, which I have, then I’ve discharged my responsibility.”

Norcross looked disdainful. “We know that Elisabetta Mamione’s previous employer received two million for the sale of the business.”

Rocco yawned. “And?”

“And,” Norcross added, irritation grating his tone, “that didn’t raise any suspicions with you as to the amount of money paid for the business?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “He is not my client. If he had the money to buy the business in the first place, then he had the money to compensate my client.”

Norcross’ gaze wandered to the neckline of her shirt. “Ms. Taylor, we can come to an agreement here, if you co-operate...”

“No, don’t interrupt me, this is farcical. If you look through the file for Mrs. Mamione, you will see that I completed valid searches on Mr. Vitale’s financial circumstances. He’s the director of several companies with shares. The valuation at certain dates of the litigation is also in the file, right when Mrs. Mamione and I started the claim. Economic climate or not, if Mr. Vitale sold the shares of one of those companies, he could have paid Mrs. Mamione several times over. Check the
Financial Times
. For the last time, you are talking to the wrong solicitor. Now, I’ve had enough of this utter charade and I want to go home, eat some cake and give my client some piece of mind.”

Rocco murmured, “And I’m aroused.”

Anna failed to keep her laughter in. Norcross pointed a chubby finger at her. “Don’t play clever with me. I know you’re in with this lot. You’re not that clever—”

“Me and her degrees would disagree with you,” Rocco interrupted. “Is this all you have? Because it’s pathetic.”

“I know you—”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. Anna turned around to see a distinguished-looking man put his head around the gap. “Norcross, a word please.”

Norcross looked between Anna and Rocco. “Interview terminated at seven fifty-one p.m.”