“No, you’re not.”
Luke Tanner was a junior associate in her father’s law firm, nice-looking, in a male model kind of way. He had all the credentials: good law school, corporate lawyer, good family breeding—exactly the kind of guy Cara should’ve been going out with. He was always polite and considerate on their dates, but Cara didn’t feel any excitement or danger with Luke, not like she did when she was around Hawk.
Parents loved Luke and Luke loved parents, especially rich fathers like Cara’s dad. Luke had big plans for himself. He wanted to be partner by the time he turned thirty-eight (six more years), have a pretty, smart wife on his arm (Cara would do just fine), have a couple of kids (one of each sex would be great), and live in the Glenmore section of town in one of those mansions with a couple of servants to help out. Luke Tanner had big plans, and Cara Minelli was a key factor in them. What better way to advance his career than to marry the boss’s pretty and curvy daughter?
Cara was bright, sexy, and a good girl. The way Luke saw it, her only flaw was that she was hell-bent on representing the dirt bags of the Earth. Not wanting to practice in her dad’s law firm perplexed Luke—she could be partner in a year, with her connections. Why she wanted to be around those lowlifes she called clients was beyond Luke’s comprehension, but he’d make sure that ended once she had his ring on her finger.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Rescuing me from a very dull evening,” he said.
This is the distraction I need. “Sounds intriguing,” she replied.
“How about dinner and maybe dancing? I know it’s last-minute, but I’ve been busy on a complex litigation case. I need a break, and I want to see you again.”
“I don’t have plans. Dinner and dancing sound great.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, sitting at a table by the window in The French Bistro, Cara waved at Sherrie as she entered the restaurant. She hadn’t seen Sherrie since they’d gone out two weeks before to the biker bar. The French Bistro was a newer, popular restaurant on trendy Spruce Street and was reminiscent of a neighborhood café on the Left Bank in Paris. Wrought-iron chairs around small, round tables adorned with lace tablecloths and flower-filled glass vases welcomed customers. Oil paintings depicting street scenes of Parisian life decorated the yellow walls, while the aroma of baked bread enveloped the eatery, tantalizing patrons as they entered.
After the waiter brought their food, Sherrie, munching on her paté and Swiss cheese sandwich, said, “What gives, Cara?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re hiding something from me. I know you, girl. ’Fess up. You’re hiding something.”
Pushing her salad plate aside, Cara chewed her lower lip and said, “Remember that biker guy I met at the bar a couple of weeks ago?”
“Yeah, how could I forget that cutie?”
“Well, he’s now my client. I mean, he came into my office with some of his club guys, and I almost died when I saw him.”
“Are you shittin’ me? Your sexy biker is now your client?” Throwing her hands over her mouth, Sherrie laughed.
“Shh… not so loud,” Cara said as she noticed a few people staring at them. “And no, I’m not shitting you. He’s my new client, and it’s not funny,” she whispered.
“I can’t fucking believe that. What are the odds?”
“First of all, he’s not my biker. The case was Les’, but he couldn’t do it and asked me to take it as a favor. If I’d known he was the client, I never would’ve agreed.”
“You have to admit, he’s sexy, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll admit he’s sexy, but he’s also arrogant and a smartass. I find him infuriating.”
“I couldn’t tell that by the way you were dancing with him.” Sherrie raised her eyebrows.
“I had too much to drink. I was tipsy.”
“Were you? You drove us home. Did you break your no-driving-if-tipsy rule?”
Sherrie knew her too well.
“Well?”
“Okay, so I knew what I was doing and I thought he was hot. So what?”
“So, nothing. It’s just that I’ve never seen you do that in all the times we’ve been clubbing. That’s all.”
“I don’t know, I guess I felt like letting loose. I had a long, stressful week, and I knew I wouldn’t bump into anyone I knew in that kind of bar.”
“You don’t have to explain. I’m not judging you. Hell, I’d go for him. It looked like you guys had something going there. I remember that, even if I don’t remember much more of that night. Talk about getting wasted.” Sherrie giggled.
“He’s not my type. He mostly makes me mad.”
“Not mad, Cara, hot. Damn, it’s been so long for you, you can’t remember what it feels like. I mean, you’ve buried yourself in work for the last four years. I have to drag you out most weekends, and when we’re at a bar, you send out don’t-touch-me vibes big-time. That’s what I’m saying—that Saturday, you were on fire. I don’t care what you say. This biker struck something in you.”
“Okay, yeah, I feel drawn to him, but that’s probably because he’s so damn persistent and demanding. For reasons that probably would take years on a therapist’s couch to figure out, I kinda find his arrogance a turn-on. Am I psycho, or what?”
Smiling, Sherrie said, “No, you’re a woman who’s been dry for too long. You need to go for it.”
Cara sighed. “What am I going to do? I acted like such a slut with Hawk. I let him kiss me and do stuff in my office, and he’s my client. It’s like I know it’s wrong, and he’s bad news, but I kiss him anyway. My common sense has left me. Crap, I am psycho. I think a great-aunt of my dad’s was. I’ve read that it can be hereditary.”
“You’re not psycho. You want to screw him. So do it.”
Cara gasped. “I couldn’t. We’re too different. I mean, we come from such different worlds, and we don’t know each other.”
“I’m not telling you to marry him or even get into a relationship. Just screw the hell out of him and have fun. When’s the last time you screwed anyone? Since you and Trevor broke up?”
Trevor and Cara had been engaged and planned to marry after law school, but she later discovered he was involved in extracurricular activities, like banging most of the first-year law students. She’d been devastated—she’d had such plans for their future—and had broken it off with him.
After that, she threw herself into passing the bar exam and setting up her practice. Four years later, she had a thriving law practice and Trevor was nothing more than a dull ache in her heart.
“So, when was it?” Sherrie’s question pulled her back from her memories.
“I’ve been so busy. I—I don’t know.”
“The answer is you haven’t screwed anyone since Trevor. Isn’t it time to blow out the vigil candles you’ve lit for your hurt and betrayal?”
“You don’t know how deceived I felt. I thought Trevor was my soulmate.”
“He wasn’t, and it’s a good thing you found out before the wedding rather than after. That’s a closed chapter, and it’s time to start a new one. You need to let someone else into your life.”
“I have. I’m going out with Luke.”
Sherrie rolled her eyes and made a face. “Of course you are. He’s safe because you don’t have any feelings for him.”
“Yes, I do,” Cara protested.
“Like what?”
“He’s nice and good-looking. We’re both lawyers, so it’s nice to talk to him about legal issues, and he’s smart, ambitious, and a gentleman.” Sherrie pretended to yawn. Shaking her head, Cara continued, “He’d never tell me that my pussy is wet and he wants to taste me. He respects me.”
Sherrie leaned forward, her eyes bright. “Sexy Biker says those things to you? Damn, that’s a turn-on.”
“That’s not the point, is it? Luke is future material and Hawk isn’t. Hawk would probably be a great screw, and that’s it.”
“What’s wrong with that? Luke is the guy who is the good-girl idea of what you should have, who your parents would approve of. Hawk is the badass biker who lives in your dark fantasies and would satisfy every urge in your body. What’s wrong with having parent-friendly Luke in the limelight and hot fantasy-biker on the side?”
Cara giggled. “You’re so bad, Sherrie. I know you’d do that. I can’t.”
“I’m sorry your hot biker didn’t hit on me. I’d already be in bed with his sexy body.” Sherrie licked her lips. “But he only had eyes for you. I saw it the minute he walked in the door that night.”
Cara flushed, shivers playing up her spine and neck. Sherrie talking about Hawk wanting her made her happy.
“None of this matters anyway, because Hawk is my client.”
“Hasn’t seemed to stop him… or you.”
Cara groaned. “I know, don’t remind me. I feel bad about it. I’m so unprofessional.”
“Who cares if you’re screwing your client? Some arbitrary group of staunch men in a windowless office? Anyway, he won’t be your client forever.”