A Legal Affair (2 page)

“If all goes well, you’ll get him the information he needs to bring down Crandall Thorne, and in the process Mom will be set for life, and Roarke Investigations will never again have to accept assignments we don’t want. I think our first order of business,” added Kenneth, basking in his role as senior partner and chief decision-maker, “should be to hire a full-time secretary and buy some nice furniture for the reception area.”

“Hallelujah,” muttered Daniela. “And while we’re at it, Big Spender, could we also get the air-conditioning fixed?”

Two months later

“I
’m late. I can’t believe I’m late.”

Daniela uttered the words to herself as she hurried across the manicured grounds of St. Mary’s University toward the Law Classroom Building located in the center of campus. It was the first day of classes, and she was late for her eight o’clock civil procedure course.

Despite weeks of planning and preparing for the undercover assignment, Daniela couldn’t have foreseen that her mother would come down with the flu the day before the fall semester began, and that she would spend the entire night nursing Pamela Roarke back to health. She couldn’t possibly have known that after dragging her tired body from bed and going through the motions of showering and getting dressed, she’d be faced with her next obstacle: finding her car keys. She’d searched for close to an hour before locating the keys where she’d left them the night before—still buried in the front-door lock, where she’d forgotten them in her haste to investigate the source of the violent retching she’d been greeted with upon arriving home.

When Daniela finally left the house that morning, her mother had been sleeping soundly, and Kenneth’s wife, Janie, was on her way over to take the second shift. Not for the first time, Daniela thanked God for blessing her with a sister-in-law who was a stay-at-home mom.

Daniela slipped inside the air-conditioned coolness of the Law Classroom Building and strode down the tiled corridor in search of her classroom.

Even before she rounded the corner and saw him, she heard The Voice. Deep, husky, with pure masculine tones that rippled along her nerve endings. Like sinuous curls of smoke from a sorcerer’s flame, it reached out to her, wrapping around her, drawing her closer.

Daniela stepped from the hallway and into the dark, piercing gaze of Caleb Thorne. Her pulse hammered at the base of her throat, and for one awkward moment she hovered in the doorway.

Firm, sculpted lips curved upward in a mocking half smile. “So nice of you to join us, Miss—?”

“Moreau,” she said, the alias wobbling off a tongue that seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth. Funny, she hadn’t counted on being blindsided by an attraction to her intended victim. “Sorry I’m late.”

“I’m sure your clients will appreciate knowing that every time you show up late for trial,” Caleb Thorne said dryly.

Daniela’s face burned with embarrassment as her classmates laughed. Bravely squaring her shoulders, she looked around quickly before sliding into a vacant chair in the fourth row. An attractive young Asian woman seated next to her offered a sympathetic “Better you than me” look that only made Daniela feel worse about her ill-fated entrance.

So much for making a good first impression.

After taking a minute to compose herself, Daniela allowed her gaze to drift back toward Caleb Thorne, then found that she couldn’t look away.

To say that the man was sublime would be an understatement. The hard, masculine line of his square jaw accentuated cheekbones that could have been carved from granite, and his strong chin hinted at a dimple that was incredibly sexy. His skin was the deep brown of toasted walnut, and his jaw held the beginnings of a shadow that only heightened his utter maleness. He was tall, easily six-three, a towering specimen of male authority as he prowled back and forth in front of the lecture hall with relaxed, powerful strides Daniela would not soon forget. Wearing a short-sleeved black shirt that stretched taut across broad shoulders and blue jeans that rode low on lean hips, Caleb Thorne’s appearance was a marked departure from the bookish law professor of Daniela’s imagination. No wonder practically every seat in the first row was occupied by a wide-eyed female eagerly hanging on to his every word.

The vibrations of his deep voice quivered like a caress across Daniela’s skin. She was captivated, shamelessly so, and when those deep-set onyx eyes came to rest on hers once again, she actually shivered in response.

“What about you, Miss Moreau?” Caleb asked, arms folded across his wide chest. “What are your expectations for this course?”

It took Daniela several seconds to realize that he’d actually addressed her, so preoccupied was she with watching that sensuous mouth and wondering what it would feel like against her own.

She was pulled from her trance by a discreet cough to her right—her “Better you than me” friend again.

Nervously Daniela passed her tongue over dry lips. “I, um, have no expectations for this course,” she mumbled.

One thick black brow sketched upward. “Is that right?”

Daniela resisted the urge to squirm under that incisive gaze. “One thing I’ve come to understand about myself is that if I approach anything with too many expectations, I don’t learn or grow as much as I should, because my perceptions are shaped by my expectations. So I came here today with an open mind, which I think is good practice for anyone aspiring to enter the legal profession.”

Complete silence descended, as if the sixty-four other occupants of the room were holding a collective breath, awaiting Caleb Thorne’s verdict on her response.

He nodded once, a trace of amusement and something akin to curiosity glinting in his dark eyes. He studied her a moment longer before turning away.

“Memorize Miss Moreau’s answer,” he told the class in a voice laced with humor. “It might show up on the final exam.”

The announcement was met with laughter and a few muffled guffaws. The young woman seated beside Daniela gave her a thumbs-up sign, and Daniela grinned.

When class was over, the girl introduced herself. “I’m April Kwan.”

“Daniela—”

“Moreau. I know.” She giggled, scooping up her notebook and gliding to her feet. She was slightly taller than Daniela, and waifishly thin. Glossy black hair cropped in a pageboy skimmed high, sharp cheekbones. “Don’t worry, he has that effect on everyone with an X chromosome.”

“So I see,” Daniela murmured, eyeing the group of female students surrounding Caleb Thorne. At any minute, she half expected him to produce a pen and begin signing autographs.

“He is
such
a hottie. I heard that his classes always have the longest waiting lists. No wonder.” April issued a lusty sigh, then grinned. “See you next time. Don’t be late.”

Daniela hung around until the last of the groupies had reluctantly taken her leave before descending the stairs and approaching Caleb Thorne. Up close he seemed even taller, towering over her even in the stacked wedge sandals she wore.

“I need a syllabus,” she told him as he stuffed papers into a well-worn leather satchel.

When he passed her the requested document, their fingers brushed. Something like awareness passed between them, and for one charged moment their gazes locked and held.

Daniela stepped back, feeling as if she’d been singed with a dangerous, seductive heat, the likes of which she’d never before experienced. She drew vital air into her lungs. “I know we, uh, got off on the wrong foot, Professor Thorne, but—”

His eyes, rimmed with dense black lashes that would have given him a boyish appeal were he not so darned
virile,
narrowed on her face. “What’s your first name?”

“Daniela,” she answered, because she and her brothers had decided it was safe to stick as close as possible to the truth.

Caleb nodded slowly. “What were you saying?”

“I just wanted you to know that I’m serious about being here, that I plan to take my studies very seriously.” It wasn’t a lie—not exactly. After all, she’d always prided herself on being the best at whatever she set out to accomplish. Why should this situation be any different?

“Never doubted it for a second, Miss Moreau.” With an economy of motion, Caleb swung the satchel over his shoulder and indicated that Daniela should precede him from the room.

As she walked, she racked her brain, wondering if there was any way to detain him without arousing his suspicion. It was the first day of the semester, too early to request help with her coursework—although the lengthy reading assignment he’d given them was no laughing matter. Should she invite him for a cup of coffee? She knew for a fact that he didn’t teach another class until twelve-thirty. Still, there was no pressing reason to push him so hard, so fast. Was there? Even Kenneth had said that winning Caleb Thorne’s trust would take time.

Suddenly Caleb was staring past her, his mouth curving into a warm, relaxed grin that made her breath hitch and caused her to wonder who was the lucky beneficiary of such a bone-melting smile.

She turned her head to find a tall, willowy, Caribbean-looking woman with waist-length dark hair waving at him from the opposite end of the bustling corridor. “Wanna grab a cup of coffee at Java’s?” she called to him in a smooth, lilting voice.

“Of course,” he responded, and Daniela’s heart sank. He glanced down at her, his face an impassive mask that convinced Daniela she’d only imagined that electrically charged moment back in the classroom. “My office hours are on the syllabus if you need to reach me. See you on Wednesday.”

“Okay.” As Daniela watched him saunter toward the Caribbean beauty, she realized she didn’t have as much time as she’d thought to win over the sexy law professor.

It was time to step up her game or pack up her toys and go home.

“How’d the first day of classes go?”

The question greeted Daniela as she entered the one-story bungalow she shared with her mother. Balancing a purse, a backpack and a large plastic bag filled with the remaining supplies she’d had to purchase for school, Daniela kicked the door shut and divested herself of her baggage before sinking gratefully into the nearest armchair.

Sanjuanita Roarke, curled up on a sofa slipcovered in persimmon suede, smiled at Daniela over the paperback novel she’d been reading. “That bad, huh?”

Daniela groaned, throwing her head back against the chair. “I am so exhausted, Janie. Between Civil Procedure and Contracts, I have a ton of reading to do—and this was just the first day. God only knows how much more awaits me tomorrow.”

Her sister-in-law chuckled, setting aside her chick-lit novel and scraping her thick, dark hair into a ponytail. “No one ever said law school would be easy. In fact, no one in their right mind would claim such a thing.”

“You got that right. Tonight I’ll probably wake up in a cold sweat after having nightmares about appellate briefs, pleadings and torts.” She frowned up at the textured ceiling. “I must be insane to willingly put myself through this. After studying for the CPA exam, I swore I’d never subject my brain to that kind of torture again.”

Janie snorted. “What are you talking about? You aced that exam, and Kenny says you hardly studied at all.”

“Your husband greatly exaggerates.” Daniela sat up and nudged off her wedge sandals, wiggling her toes against the Persian rug she’d practically plundered from an antiques dealer. “How’s the patient doing?”

“Sleeping. Stayed awake long enough to take her meds and swallow a few spoonfuls of tortilla soup before it was lights-out again.”

“No more fever? Nausea?”

“Not since this morning. Dr. Molina says the best thing for her is to get some rest—that’s what her body is craving anyway.”

“I know,” murmured Daniela. “I wish there was some way to convince her to cut back on some of her extracurricular activities—like volunteering at the senior center or heading the women’s ministry at church.”

Janie grimaced, dark, thick brows furrowing together until they nearly touched. Her face was a soft oval characterized by high, round cheeks, full lips and a dimple carved into her chin, which lent an impish charm to her beauty.

“You know your mother,” Janie said. “She figures as long as she’s not earning a salary for what she’s doing, then technically she’s not violating the doctor’s orders not to work.”

Daniela scowled. “I’ve tried asking some of the church members to talk sense into her, but everyone seems to think ‘doing the Lord’s work’ will only rejuvenate her. I’m sorely tempted to tell Pastor Wiggins that Mom and the organist are fooling around—
that
might persuade him to relieve Sister Roarke of her duties.”

“¡Ay dios!
You wouldn’t dare!”

“I’m a desperate woman. Having my mother around for years to come is more important to me than preserving her reputation at church.”

“But she’s
not
having an affair with the organist,” Janie pointed out, then frowned. “Is she?”

“Of course not.” Daniela winked. “She thinks Deacon Hubbard is
far
more handsome.”

Janie laughed and shook her head, dislodging a stubborn chunk of glossy hair from the scrunchie she wore. “Speaking of handsome men,” she said, reaching up to repair the ponytail, “how’d it go with Professor Thorne?”

Just hearing the man’s name made Daniela’s mouth go dry. “Well, we sort of got off to a rocky start when I showed up ten minutes late for class.” Grimacing, she told her sister-in-law about her ignominious arrival and Caleb Thorne’s dry rebuke that had sent a rumble of laughter around the classroom. “If I could have melted through the floor, I would have.”

Janie grinned sympathetically. “On the bright side, at least you got his attention.”

“Yeah, but somehow that’s
not
the strategy I had in mind.”

“What
is
your strategy?”

Daniela frowned, biting her bottom lip. “To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know. I mean, I know Kenny and Noah spent weeks prepping me and giving me pointers on how to do undercover work, but none of that really prepared me for the real thing—the moment of truth, when I walked into that classroom and saw ‘the mark.’” She shook her head, lips curving ruefully. “I sure wish I’d known what Caleb Thorne looked like beforehand. Kenny and Noah have photos, but I refused to see them. I didn’t want to have preconceived notions about the man based solely on his appearance.”

“I should have warned you. As soon as Kenny told me about the assignment—which, by the way, I had to pry out of him because he was being so darned secretive—I went online and looked up Caleb Thorne’s picture on the university’s Web site.” Janie made a low, feline sound. “The man is positively scrumptious.”