all week to make contact with him, having arranged for the time off work, but her heart was set on sooner rather than later. Arriving early at the court house, she tensely searched the waiting rooms and corridors, hoping to cross paths with Jake. Having no luck at even catching a glimpse of him, she entered the inquiry room, settling on one of the back seats, sure that she would see him here sometime today.
Her father was seated beside his barrister. He saw her, giving her a bulletlike stare before turning away. She didn’t care what he thought of her presence. Only what Jake thought mattered.
The hearing started. Jake had not entered the room. Laura set aside her frustration and listened to the accusations her father had to answer. This was what Jake had been secretly working on—more important to him than their relationship.
Sixteen companies were named—JQE amongst them. Struggling companies that could have been saved by arranging bridging loans but which her father had chosen to bury, gouging millions out of selling off their assets by charging outrageous fees for his services as liquidator.
The judge described it as ‘Churning and burning.’
The day dragged on with no sight of Jake, not in the morning session, not in the lunch-break, not in the afternoon session.
Her father was the only witness called. He admitted to earning between four and six million dollars a year from failing companies but belligerently insisted it was by carrying out due process and he was innocent of any wrongdoing. His air of contempt for the court did not endear him to the judge. Laura hated listening to him. She kept darting glances around the room, hoping to see Jake, willing him to appear.
Why wasn’t he here?
Surely this was the culmination of his mission for justice.
Shouldn’t he be listening to what her father said so he could rebut it?
Jake was sitting in the consultation room, waiting for the prosecuting barrister to report on the afternoon session, feeling buoyantly confident that Alex Costarella would finally be nailed for the fraudulent bastard he was. The glass panels of the door gave him a view of the area directly outside the enquiry room. A rush of people into it signalled that the session was over.
Jake recognised the reporters who had tried to interview him. The case was drawing quite a bit of interest from the business sector of the media. Which was good. Too much skulduggery was hidden from the public. The more people were aware of what went on, the more they could guard against it, or at least question what was happening.
Laura!
Jake bolted to his feet, shocked at seeing her amongst the departing spectators, his mind instantly torn by uncertainty over what she was doing here and the wild urge to stride out and sweep her into a fiercely possessive embrace. It had been so long—almost a year—but just the sight of her had his body buzzing with the need to have her again.
She looked stunning, the black suit barely confining her voluptuous curves, her glorious hair bouncing around her shoulders. His fingers itched to rake through its silky mass. His groin was tingling hotly from a swift rush of blood. He’d never wanted a woman so much. If he reached out to her now, would she happily respond, or…?
More likely she would spurn him, he realised, the surge of excitement draining slowly away. Given that she had believed whatever story her father had spun around the photographs she’d sent him, no doubt believing she’d been used as a malicious thrill on the side, as well, the probability was she was here to support her father against him.
Love…hate—they could colour anyone’s judgement.
He watched her join the group of people waiting for the elevator, watched her until steel doors closed behind her, and ached inside for what had been lost. He’d let the past rule his decisions, the long-burning need for justice. It was a crusade for good over evil, yet he knew he would feel no joy in the victory. Satisfaction, perhaps, but no joy.
He had to take the witness stand tomorrow. If Laura attended the hearing again… A violent determination rampaged through him. He would make her believe every word he said, every revelation of the kind of man her father was. It might not win him anything from her on a personal level, but at least she wouldn’t be able to sustain any support for her rotten father, who had ruined any chance they might have had for a future together.
The second day…
Laura had no sooner settled on a back-row seat in the inquiry room than her father was on his feet, pushing back the chair he had occupied at his barrister’s table so violently it tumbled over. He ignored it, glaring furiously at her as he strode down the aisle, obviously intent on confrontation.
She sat tight, steeling herself to ride out his wrath. Since she and her mother had left the Mosman mansion before Christmas, none of the family had had any personal contact with him. No doubt he contemptuously considered them rats that had deserted the sinking ship, but he had no power over them anymore. He couldn’t actually do anything to her, not here in public, but if looks could kill, she’d certainly be dead.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he demanded, the thunderous tone of voice promising punishment for her sins against him.
‘Listening,’ she answered curtly, refusing to be cowed.
Burning hatred in his eyes. ‘Are you on with Jake Freedman again?’
‘No.’
His lips curled in a sneer. ‘Chasing after him.’
She met his vicious mockery with absolute self-determination. ‘You lied to me about him, Dad. I’ve come to hear the truth.’
‘Truth!’ he scoffed. ‘You benefited from his stepfather’s fall. That’s the truth. And Freedman isn’t about to forget it, not when he’s been brooding over it for years.’
The judge’s entrance demanded her father’s return to his barrister’s side. Laura was shaken by the encounter. She’d been all keyed up, hoping that a meeting with Jake might lead to a resumption of their relationship. Fixated on the photographs, she hadn’t given any thought to other factors. When all was said and done, she was still her father’s daughter, and Jake may well have killed any feeling he’d had for her and moved on, especially after she’d used false evidence to blow him away.
A chance to nothing, she’d said to Eddie, and the truth was she was probably fooling herself about having any chance at all. She sat in a slump of silent despair, not hearing anything until Jake’s name was called.
Tension instantly stiffened her spine and pressed her legs tightly together. Her eyes automatically drank in everything about him as he entered the room and was led to the witness box. He wore a sober grey suit and the air of a man all primed to carry out deadly business. James Bond—sleek, sophisticated, sexy, making her heart kick at how handsome he was, making her stomach flutter at how devastating this day could be to her. Even the sound of his voice as he was sworn in evoked memories of intimate moments, making her ache for more.
He shot his gaze around the room before sitting down. For one electric moment it stopped on her. There was no smile, not the slightest change of expression on his face at seeing her. She didn’t smile at him, either. The feelings inside her were too intense. She fiercely willed him to know she was here for him. The moment passed all too quickly, his gaze flicking to the prosecuting barrister as he settled on his chair.
He didn’t look at her again.
Not once.
Laura listened to his testimony, hearing a biting edge in every word. It became perfectly clear that her father’s intent as a liquidator was exploitation, without any regard to the interests of any company or its creditors. Billable hours extended to clerical staff, even to the tea and coffee lady—each at three hundred dollars an hour. At one meeting with creditors, the coffee served to them came to eighty dollars a cup.
‘Nice cup,’ the judge remarked acidly.
‘Not exactly sweet when the creditors never get their entitlements,’ Jake said just as