suspected then that he’d only wanted to gloat about his victory. And she’d been too furious over the loss...of justice.
His eyes flared again, going dark and sparkly with desire. Or was she only imagining that. “I love the way you say my name,” he murmured, his voice gruff.
She shivered now. Of course, she was wearing only a thin camisole since she’d taken off her jacket. His gaze moved down, to where her nipples were pressing through her lace bra and pushing against the silk of her camisole.
“Sto—Mr. Michaelsen,” she said, putting the same warning in her tone that Judge Harrison had used with him that afternoon.
He grinned. “Oh, Hillary... I think we could have some fun being personal.”
Now the heat flashed back through her, heating her face and her entire body. Her patience, as well as her control, wearing thin, she asked, “Why are you here?”
He didn’t reply. He just kept staring at her with that glint of naughtiness in his eyes.
“If you’re not going to tell me,” she said, “I’m going to leave.”
But that would mean walking around him to get to the door, and she didn’t want to get any closer to him. Not right now...
Not with the way he was looking at her.
He closed his eyes, breaking that connection between them. When he opened them again, he shook his head and rubbed one hand around the nape of his neck, as if he was stressed.
After her opening argument, he should be stressed.
She had him this time. And he had to know it as well as she did.
“I came here to find out what the hell you were talking about in your opening statement when you claimed to have evidence from my case files,” he said.
She relaxed and smiled. “It’s the truth. I have evidence—”
“I want to know how the hell you got anything from my case files!” he said, his voice rising with irritation.
He obviously had no idea. A laugh slipped through her lips. Yes, she had him. He was not winning this time.
“You’re talking about the evidence that proves your client’s alibi is fake,” she said.
He shook his head again, but this time vehemently. “It’s not fake.”
“The bank records you sent me prove that Mr. Mueller bought and paid for that alibi,” she reminded him. How could Stone have not realized that? But then, it didn’t sound as if he’d actually meant to share those records with her.
Which he confirmed when he said, through gritted teeth, “I did not send you anything.”
“Someone from your office did,” she said. And she still could not believe her good fortune. She hadn’t expected to get any help from the defense for the prosecution, let alone this much.
Now he chuckled. “I wouldn’t be so cocky, Hillary. You got played by our office mole.”
“What?” She narrowed her eyes and studied him with suspicion. What game was he playing with her now? “What the hell are you talking about? What would an office mole have to do with me?”
The humor left his face as his jaw went rigid with anger. “We have a little issue. Someone has been trying to cause problems for the practice. Until now, only my partners have been affected.”
She could believe that Street Legal had made some enemies—because for every case they won, someone else lost. But she wasn’t really buying his story. It sounded too much like one of the press releases that PR firm put out for them for damage control.
Why hadn’t he issued one today?
“The last time someone received something supposedly from our case files,” he continued, “the documents had been forged.” The grin curved his lips up again. “So I wouldn’t be so confident about your evidence.”
She narrowed her eyes and studied his handsome face. “You’re bluffing,” she said. And she hoped like hell that he was.
He had to be or he would have had McCann issue a statement that the evidence was forged. If he could prove that it was... He was the one with no proof.
His grin only widened. “You’ll see that I’m telling the truth when my client is acquitted.”
She hated his smugness. She hated a lot of things about Stone Michaelsen. That was why she would only ever fantasize about him and would never actually act on her attraction to him. But because they were alone and she was more aware of him than she’d ever been, she needed to get away from him before she forgot how much she hated about him.
She snagged her jacket from the back of her chair and grabbed her briefcase from the desk. “I’m leaving,” she said. “We have an early morning in court.” She probably shouldn’t have reminded him of that. Let him be late. Judge Harrison would love that.
“So nobody’s waiting for you at home,” he said.
She sighed and shook her head as she moved to step around him. But before she could maneuver past him, he wrapped his arms around her and jerked her up against his long, hard body. Then he lowered his mouth to hers.
First, his lips just brushed across hers. Then his tongue flicked out and licked the corner of her mouth. “Sweet...” he said.
And heat flushed her face as she realized she’d had chocolate on her face the entire time they’d been talking. But they weren’t talking now. He moved his mouth over hers again, and she gasped for breath as panic and attraction squeezed her lungs.
He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth. She tasted the chocolate. Dark and rich, and just a touch bitter. Then she tasted him. And he tasted the same.
There was nothing really sweet about the chocolate or his flavor. But it was intoxicating.
And addictive...
She trembled with the force of the desire rushing through her, and the jacket and briefcase handle slipped through her shaking hands. When they were free, she reached for him. Sliding her fingers into his thick black hair, she held his head down as she kissed him back.
WHAT THE HELL had he done? Kissing Hillary Bellows had been a huge mistake. But it was a mistake that Stone wanted to repeat over and over again.
Fingers snapped in front of his face. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Stone?” Ronan Hall grumbled at him. “You called this damn emergency meeting, and you haven’t said a word yet.”
He shook his head and murmured, “Sorry.”
“Allison McCann said you stood her up for your meeting yesterday afternoon, too,” Simon Kramer remarked from the head of the conference table in his office. He was the managing partner of Street Legal, just as the young con artist had been the managing partner when they’d all been living on the streets as teen runaways.
“I called her and canceled,” Stone said. At least he thought he had. He hadn’t talked to Allison directly but he’d left a message with her assistant.
He’d wanted to talk to Hillary before he issued any more press releases. If only all he had done was talk...
But being alone with her, and in such a small space, had tested his control in a way it had never been tested with her before. Hell, he didn’t think his control in general had ever been tested like that before. It was probably the first test he’d ever failed in his life.
“You look like hell,” Simon remarked.
“He’s got a tough trial,” Trevor Sinclair said in his defense. Trev handled the biggest