Lawyers In Love: In His Own Defense (21 page)

Kristine’s eyes widened, and tears ran down her cheeks. Her pretty mouth dropped open. When she moved her lips, apparently trying to speak, not a sound came from her throat.

Tony’s gut clenched, chilled him, yet some force compelled him to go on. “Speechless, are you?” he asked, certain that if he didn’t vent his raging emotions, he’d explode. “I won’t blame you if you walk away.”

He watched her swallow convulsively, as if she still wasn’t certain she could talk. “Surely your father wasn’t all bad,” she finally said.

“He killed a man in cold blood, Krissy.”

“He had to have had some good qualities or you wouldn’t have loved him,” she said. Standing, she staggered a moment before finding her footing, then moved toward the stand of pine trees that partially blocked the prison from view.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Tony came up close behind her and looped his arms around her waist. Quietly, deliberately, he filled her in on the sordid details that had uprooted him and changed his life: a crime of passion that had taken place outside a bar where migrant workers gathered and ended with a worker dead and his old man behind bars.

“I was ten years old, and my mother had died six weeks earlier,” he said, bracing her trembling body against him as he finished his story. “The social worker came to the trailer where we lived after the deputies had taken my father away. They put me in foster care that night.”

“I’m sorry. So very sorry.” The words came out through soft sobs she couldn’t seem to control.

She was sorry, he imagined, that she’d ever thought she wanted anything to do with him. “Don’t be,” he said, choosing to let her think he believed she was hurting for the little boy he’d been. “The worst of the foster homes I stayed in beat living in a migrant camp.”

“You said the first time you came up here to see him, you were twelve years old.” Her voice was strained, as though she was trying to hold back tears.

“I’d just gone to a new foster home. The social worker must have talked them into bringing me up here. Mike and Ellen Nugent brought me back once a year, until I graduated from high school and went out on my own. They were decent people. Still are.”

“I’d like to meet them.”

Tony doubted they’d hit it off. He’d gone to see the Nugents when he’d returned to Tampa, tried to pay them back for the six years they’d given him the closest thing to a home he’d ever had at the time, but they’d shooed him away.

Simple blue-collar people, they’d apparently felt ill at ease to see him, dressed in his lawyer clothes and driving his fancy sports car. He imagined they’d feel even more out of place with a woman like Kristine, who’d been brought up in a high-society lifestyle beyond their comprehension.

He doubted Krissy would feel any more comfortable with them, or with their simple concrete block home that still teemed with foster kids, dogs, and the occasional pet snake or possum. “They’d like you, I’m sure,” he said, doubting that a meeting would ever take place.

Then he met her teary gaze and he knew. Though hurt that he’d held back a vital part of who he was and where he’d come from, Krissy still loved him. She’d loved him knowing his deepest secret, cared enough about him to hold back the knowledge until he found the courage to share it with her.

She’d known almost from the first, and knowing hadn’t kept her from turning her life upside down for him. Hadn’t stopped her from loving him.

A weight lifted off Tony’s chest.

* * * * *

When they went back to their room at the bed-and-breakfast, the details of Tony’s ordeal still rang in Kristine’s ears. What amazed her was how hard and single-mindedly he must have worked to achieve goals forged in pain and hurt and loneliness. She imagined him in the foster home he’d mentioned, cared for yet…different because he wanted more than survival, more than the life people would have expected for the son of a migrant worker—and a murderer.

She wanted to show him with actions what she’d told him on the way back from that dreadful prison. Actions she’d never dared think of before that now seemed not just acceptable but right.

He sprawled in the easy chair by the window while he stared out at the big oak tree he’d mentioned sitting under to study before this was a swanky bed-and-breakfast. He looked emotionally drained, which was certainly no surprise considering the effort it must have taken him to bare his soul.

Taking a deep breath, she went to her knees in front of him, slipped off his polished loafers and socks, and began to massage one large, high-arched foot.

“Krissy, don’t.” He caught her hands when she slid them up and loosened his belt.

“You don’t like this?” she asked, nibbling his hard-muscled inner thigh through his lightweight khaki pants while she freed her hand and continued her task of getting him naked.

“God, yes. But you don’t have to. I should be—”

“Stop. Let me love you.” She managed to get his pants unbuttoned and unzipped, but… “Lift up your backside so I can get you where I want you.”

“Damn it, I don’t want you on your knees,” he said, but he obliged her by arching up so she could pull down his pants and boxers.

She bent and licked away the little drop of slick, salty lubrication at the very tip of his erection, then ran her tongue around the ridge where the plum-shaped head met his long, thick shaft. “Well, this is where I want to be. Loving you.”

Hot. Pulsing. So big she had trouble believing she’d taken it inside her body and loved the stretching, full sensations that burst into shards of incredible pleasure. So smooth. “So beautiful.”

“It’s just my cock, baby. Pretty much like every other cock.” His protest dissolved into a throaty groan when she took the head all the way into her mouth and sucked it while cradling his balls gently between her palms. “Your mouth feels so good…so hot… Stop! Stop now or I’m going to come.”

When she hesitated he pulled back, stood, and scooped her into his arms. The next thing she knew, she was lying face down on the bed with pillows stuffed under her abdomen. And he was behind her, fumbling with protection—and in her, his magnificent cock—she liked that word though she doubted she’d ever say it—sliding inside her, filling her. From this new angle, his cock made contact with something that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body every time he withdrew and slid back in. Deeper, harder.

His hands cupped her breasts, and his fingers tugged rhythmically on her nipples. His teeth grazed the tender skin at the nape of her neck. Pressure built with his every touch, every deep penetration of her flesh. Every sensation intensified—the incredible feelings, the mingled scents of floral potpourri and sex, the harsh sound of his breathing near her ear. Sunlight cast its shadows through lacy bed hangings, making strangely erotic patterns on his tanned forearm and hand, her paler skin.

The taste of his cock lingered on her tongue, salty and sexy. Made her want to taste him there…touch him and kiss him and suck him. Love him every way she could think of and then some.

He shifted, balancing on one straining forearm and moving his other hand lower to find and tease her swollen clit. One touch and she exploded, her inner muscles convulsing around his big, throbbing cock, coaxing him to give in, share the exquisite climax.

The last thing she felt before sliding into delicious oblivion was him spasming, spurting inside her…rolling over, taking her with him.

Later Kristine lay sprawled next to Tony, sated and content. His pulse pounded slowly, strongly against her ear, and the way he cradled her in his arms made her feel protected, loved.

“Was that your way of telling me you love me in spite of my tainted past?” he asked after they’d lain quietly for a long time. “If so, I liked it.”

She laughed. “I liked it too. And I love you.”

“Good. Because I love you too.”

“Tony, why did you wait so long to tell me about your father?”

He shrugged. “Having a convicted murderer in one’s immediate family isn’t something most people want to advertise.”

“Neither is having had a sister who died from abusing recreational drugs. We all have our crosses to bear.” She snuggled up against him, loved the feeling they were sharing their hearts and souls as well as their bodies.

“It’s hardly the same, honey.”

She lifted her head, propped herself up on her arms so she could look into his dark eyes. As though she were preparing a closing argument that could mean the difference between life or death for someone she loved, she chose her words carefully.

“No. It isn’t. But I love the man you are. I admire how far you’ve come, and I’m awed when I think about the strength you had to have to make that journey.”

His smile lit her heart, encouraged her to do for him what she realized he’d done for her when he’d shown her truths come in shades of gray.

“You’ve helped heal me with your strength and courage. Now all that’s left is for you to heal yourself.”

“I think you’ve done that for me, Krissy.”

“Then talk to me, darling. Tell me what’s in your heart.”

“In good time, love,” he murmured as he got up and held out a hand. “Let’s put on some clothes and go look at Mrs. Hayes’s garden.”

* * * * *

He’d have done it in the refurbished room where he’d studied so long ago, in the big bed with its lace draperies and old-fashioned coverlet, but Krissy deserved more. Tony wanted to give her a memory to last a lifetime, to share with pride in the years to come.

After settling her on a lacy wrought iron bench beneath the tree that overlooked their window, he handed her a bright yellow marigold he’d picked. Its spicy fragrance tickled his nostrils. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair, heightening his awareness. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled, he hoped with anticipation.

He picked another flower, twirled its stem in his hand when he came and sat beside her. “I love you, Kristine.”

“I love you too.” She met his gaze, and he believed when he looked into her eyes that she wouldn’t say the words lightly.

Neither had he.

He put his flower in her hand. It was a rich, vibrant orange, as fragrant as its yellow companion. Though he longed to touch her, he rested his hands on his knees instead.

Though Tony had planned his speech as carefully as he would prepare a trial summation, he found himself struggling to communicate. Sweat dampened his neck, made a trail along the plane of his shoulders and chest.

He hadn’t been so anxious since his first mock trial, his first year in law school, having to force himself to get that first word out. Taking a steadying breath, he plunged in.

“We belong together as much as these marigolds do, sweetheart, even though we’re as different as they are in many ways. Will you take me as I am? Live with me, have my babies? Krissy, I swear I’ll do you proud. Marry me, please.”

“Oh, yes, Tony.”

Joy welled up inside him, brought tears that wet their hands as he slid the ring on her finger.

Its gigantic center diamond sparkled in the sun, dazzled him with its brilliance. Baguettes winked in the platinum band.

Was it too big? Too brash? For a second Tony considered murdering the jeweler who’d helped him pick out the ring.

Then Kristine threw her arms around Tony and kissed him.

“Like it?” he asked.

“I love
you
.”

He lifted her hand, watched her watch the diamonds sparkle. “I meant do you like the ring? If not—”

“Don’t even think about taking this back,” she said, laughing. “It’s like you. Larger than life and mine forever.”

For once Tony was speechless, but it didn’t matter, because Kristine seemed fully satisfied when they sealed their promises with a long, deep kiss.

Epilogue

Six months later

Kristine sat in the back of the courtroom, her gaze fixed on the drop-dead gorgeous lawyer with an incongruous little-boy dimple on his cheek.

Despite being five months pregnant, she ached for him. As skilled a lover as he was a defender, Tony seduced her each night the way he was seducing a jury now. Her skin burned, though the regular hum of the air conditioner reminded her the indoor temperature couldn’t be much over seventy degrees.

Nothing, not even listening to his riveting closing argument in Ezra Ruggles’ defense, dispelled the sexual tension that built in her whenever she looked at him.

Her husband. Her lover. Soon Tony would be the father of their baby. Kristine smiled when she thought of the place they’d bought on Old Tampa Bay, complete with all Tony had said he wanted except the vines, which he’d started badgering the gardener about because they weren’t growing up the walls fast enough to suit him.

When the first of the babies he’d mentioned jabbed her in the ribs, she recalled a time not all that long ago when she’d thought of Tony Landry as a devil in angel’s disguise.

“What’s got you grinning?” Tony asked when he joined her as the jury started its deliberations.

She took his outstretched hands and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I was just remembering.”

“Remembering what?”

“The first time we kissed.” It had felt as though they’d been together for a lifetime when he’d deepened the kiss, nibbling at her lower lip, tangling his tongue with hers.