The Law of Attraction (2 page)

Alisha found that hard to believe. Yes, she worked at being attractive, both inside and out. Yes, she had worked hard for respect and had enjoyed substantial success in her thirty-two years. But as far as physical attributes were concerned, she had unruly red hair that she futilely flatironed every day only to be sabotaged by humidity—the reason why she'd kept it curly tonight. She was short, not particularly busty and she'd inher
ited her mother's ample hips. Her skin practically blistered with only a few minutes of sun exposure, and although she didn't have a forest full of freckles, she had more than her fair share. She certainly didn't see herself as the kind of woman that would seriously interest Daniel Fortune. He probably preferred bombshell blondes with more body and less brain.

Julie leaned forward and laid a hand on Alisha's arm. “I can certainly understand why he would be interested in you. You're very pretty and smart.”

“And a redhead,” Joe added. “Men like redheads. A lot of mystery there. You know, about whether they're natural redheads or not.”

“We're not going to discuss that, Joseph,” Julie said.

He gave his wife a whipped-dog look. “Sorry, but it's true. Anyway…” He looked back at Alisha. “You should do him. If I were a woman, I would.”

Alisha rolled her eyes. “I'm sure Julie loves hearing that.”

Joe aimed his grin on his wife. “She'd do him, too. Wouldn't you, sweetheart?”

Julie batted her eyelashes. “Why would I want to when I have you, honey?”

“Okay, let's say you didn't have me.”

Julie shrugged. “Yeah, I'd do him. In a heartbeat.”

Joe turned his attention back to Alisha. “See?”

Time to quell the conversation before Alisha seriously considered the suggestion. “I don't do prosecutors, okay?”

Joe looked somewhat frustrated. “You don't do anyone, Hart, and that's your problem. You might be in a better mood if you got laid now and then.”

“And you need to lay off her, Joe.” Julie smiled, exposing perfect white teeth to match her perfectly lined lips. “When she's ready, she will.”

Alisha wasn't ready to do anything other than get out of there. But politeness dictated she hang around, at least for a while longer. Yet she found herself enduring the couple moon
ing over each other like two besotted teenagers, so obviously in love that only a fool couldn't see it. Even their names sounded perfect—Joe and Julie, lovers extraordinaire. They did include her in general conversation a few times, but only to be nice, Alisha decided. She suspected they'd really like to be home and in bed, carrying on like most happy husbands and wives. That was so far out of the realm of Alisha's comprehension that she found herself growing suddenly melancholy.

Everyone in the world, or at least in the bar, had seemed to pair off. Even Billy Wade, who'd latched on to some big-haired blonde. He was singing “Auld Lang Syne” off-key and the woman didn't even seem to mind. Alisha minded. He was definitely one acquaintance she'd rather forget. In fact, she wanted to forget this whole scene and go back to her apartment. At least there she wouldn't have to tolerate watching everyone engaged in the traditional midnight kiss when a partial glass of warm champagne was the only thing available to wrap her lips around.

She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “Listen, guys, I'm out of here. I'll see you on Monday, Joe. Bright and early.”

“Do you really have to go?” Julie asked.

Alisha slipped her coat on and grabbed her purse from the empty chair beside her. “Yeah, I do. I'm tired.”

“I understand.” Julie's knowing expression said she did. Only a woman could appreciate another woman's plight of being all alone during a party. “Why don't you have dinner with us tomorrow? It's just going to be the two of us.”

“I'll think about it,” Alisha said, knowing full well she'd already made her decision. As much as she loved being around the Alvarados, she hated being a third wheel more. “I'll call you tomorrow morning and let you know.”

“Be careful, Hart,” Joe said. “Lots of crazies on the streets tonight. But God forbid, if you are involved in an accident—”
he hooked a thumb over his shoulder “—I'll be sure to call Billy Wade's number. One-eight-hundred-bad-legal-advice.”

“You do that,” Alisha said, leaving them with a fake smile before elbowing her way through the milling crowd. Although she shouldn't do it, she couldn't help but scan the area to see if by chance Daniel Fortune was still hanging around. Why, she couldn't say. Even if he was still in the bar, she had no intention of approaching him. By the time she reached the door she confirmed that he had left, and probably not alone.

Right now Alisha had more concerns than Daniel Fortune's sex life. She had plenty to accomplish in regard to the Massey defense, not to mention a few other cases pending. Very few. A couple of divorces involving women who didn't quite qualify for assistance, one contested will, one product-liability case. All basically hinged on settlements before she saw a significant amount of money. But these clients needed her help, and she was more than happy to offer it. Plus, she did get paid when she was selected from the public-defender rolls. The money was decent, although she wasn't sure they would ever be able to pay her enough to make the Massey mess worthwhile.

Yes, she had much to do, and so what if she didn't have anyone to date? No big deal. At least she wouldn't be worrying about contributing to the divorce rate anytime soon. But Daniel Fortune was tempting. He also qualified as a potential mistake.

When she pushed out the door into the cool, misty night, that potential mistake was leaning against the lone lamppost, hands in his pockets, face illuminated by the halogen bulb. Suddenly making that mistake didn't seem like such a bad idea.

You should do him, Hart….

Alisha could not imagine that. All right, she could imagine it. And she had. Several times. She certainly wasn't going to make the first move. Or any kind of move, for that matter. But she faced a certain dilemma. She had to walk past him
on her way to the pay-by-the-hour parking lot across the street. Of course, she could ignore him—as if that were really possible since he'd already seen her. Or she could sprint to her car with only a muttered good-night.

How silly. She could handle this situation with adult diplomacy.

This is not that difficult, Alisha.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, Alisha studied the stars and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “A really nice night for sex.” Oh, crap. She'd been paid a visit by Freud instead of Baby New Year.

Daniel pushed off the pole and narrowed his eyes. “What did you just say?”

Alisha felt the fire rising to her face and more than likely she probably looked as if she'd been slapped. Someone should slap her for the questionable comment. “I said it's a nice night in Texas.”
Good save, Alisha.
“Why?”

“Because I could've sworn you said something about sex.”

She folded her arms beneath her breasts and prepared to lie. “I'm not surprised you thought that. I hear men think about sex about every six seconds.”

“A total exaggeration. More like every ninety seconds.” He topped off the comment with the most patently seductive smile she'd ever seen on a man.

“I stand corrected.” Although right now standing before him made her want to drop to her knees in brazen worship as if he'd been ordained as a D.A. demigod.

I'd do him…in a heartbeat….

A round of
pop, pop, pops
from a series of firecrackers echoing through the streets yanked Alisha back into the real world, where defense attorneys and prosecutors didn't mingle, especially between the sheets. Yes, it happened, that much Alisha knew. But not to her. She'd learned her lesson the hard way, and since that time she'd walked the professional line even though right now she wanted to walk right up and kiss the esteemed
Daniel Fortune. The way she'd fantasized about kissing him for months now. She'd fantasized about a lot more than that.

He broke the silence by asking, “Why didn't you wait inside until midnight?”

She hugged her bag to her chest. “First, it's too crowded. Second, Billy Wade was singing like a wounded banshee. Third, sleep's at a premium these days and I need to get home.”

“Yeah. I imagine it is with the Massey case pending.”

She attempted to look appropriately incensed—very hard to do in the presence of a man who took charisma to a whole new level. “You're determined to get me to discuss that, aren't you?”

“No. Just making an observation.”

And that was the reason for his attention. “You're being too polite to me, Counselor, which leads me to believe you're making nice so I'll give you a clue about my strategy.”

“There's a couple of things you need to know about me, Counselor. The Massey case isn't my problem because my job is to prosecute the worst of the worst. Felonies, not misdemeanors. And I don't make nice with a woman to gain information.”

“Then what do you hope to gain by making nice?”

“I don't hope to gain anything. At least, not in terms of our professional relationship.”

Alisha wasn't sure where this could be leading but she did know it could be down a dangerous path. “We don't have anything other than a professional relationship.”

“We could.”

That almost shocked Alisha right out of her viselike heels. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because you're a prosecutor and I'm a defense attorney.”

“No reason why we can't be friendly outside of the courts.”

Alisha could think of one big reason—namely she'd gotten a little too friendly with a colleague and she'd lived to regret
it. “Maybe having a personal relationship with associates might work for you, but I've never considered it to be a wise move.”

“I don't know if it works for me because I've never done it before.”

That was a hard one to swallow. “You're telling me that you've never fraternized with one of the many female attorneys in this town?”

“Never found one I cared to fraternize with.” The look he gave her said,
Until now.
Or maybe her imagination was commandeering her brain again.

Turning the topic back to their profession seemed wise. “By the way, I wanted to add my congratulations on your handling of the Richardson case.”

“And I should congratulate you on bulldozing the new guy into taking a plea on the Langston case.”

“I didn't bulldoze him. I just did some serious negotiating.”

“You scared the hell out of him.”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Okay, call me scary. I've been called worse.”

“Such as?”

“Stubborn. Single-minded—”

“Sexy as hell?”

Ha! “Can't say that I've heard that in anyone's verbal repertoire when describing me.”

“Well, it's in mine, because you are. Especially tonight.”

Alisha fought the inclination to look behind her to see what other woman had arrived on the scene. She pointed toward the street. “I'm going to head home now.” Before she did something totally stupid.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“In an apartment north of town, about twenty minutes away.”

“I'm a lot closer. Only a few blocks away. The new condo development.”

“The one that overlooks the river? That's rather pricey. I didn't know the D.A.'s office paid so well.”

“I manage. The view alone is worth it.”

“I'm sure it's great.”

“You should come over tonight and see for yourself.”

Surely this couldn't be happening to her, a tremendously sensual man asking her over. Actually it couldn't be happening, or it shouldn't. “Let me guess. You want me to go over your briefs.”

“My briefs are in order, unless you feel the need to do a quality check.”

She rolled her eyes for the second time tonight, even though she had a sudden image of doing that very thing. “You're a big boy. I'm sure you're quite capable of tossing out your old underwear when necessary.”

“We were talking about underwear?” His grin was teasing and terribly tempting.

She laid a dramatic hand on her chest. “My apologies, Mr. Fortune. I guess I've confused you with all of the other male jurists who just love to throw out those clichéd legal pickup lines.”

“You mean things like ‘Let's engage in a little discovery'? ‘I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours'?”

“Yes, but we can't forget my personal favorite—‘Let's go back to my place and study the penal code.'”

He took a step toward her. “How about ‘I have no statute of limitations when it comes to making you feel good'?”

From the deep, compelling tone of his voice Alisha inherently knew he was telling the truth. “I've never heard that one before.”

“That's because I just made it up. I can be pretty quick on my feet.”

She was surprised her feet were still holding her up. “Very creative, Counselor. And to quote another cliché, I don't want to end up as another notch on your bedpost.”

He sighed, a rough one. “Why is it that women always think men have ulterior motives?”

“Probably because they do.”

“Believe it or not, my reasons for inviting you over don't have anything to do with sex.” He rubbed a hand over his nape. “What if I told you that I could just use a friend?”

She could tell him she related to that on a very personal level. “I'm sure you have plenty of friends.”

“Sometimes it's hard to know who your friends are in this business.”

How true, Alisha thought. “I'm not sure we can really be friends.”