Savage Hearts (6 page)

Which meant that now she actually wanted this case. So of course Soren was “firing” her.

Cate stared at the Norse god of dumbass moves, and clenched her hands into tiny fists.

“Not the first time I’ve been called stupid,” Soren said, smiling.

He was
smiling
.

She wanted to slap him. Her internal doubts, that little voice that told her she was a fraud every time she succeeded? That sooner or later everyone would find out
who
she really was, and then it would all come crashing down? It was going insane. It echoed every abusive thing Jason had ever said to her, it echoed every bullshit thing her parents had ever said, it echoed every jerk
who
’d ever doubted her along the way. Soren had just touched one big, raw nerve, the one directly connected to every fear Cate had about herself.

“Ford, could we have the room please?” she said.

“Of course,” Ford said. He stood up, and glared at Soren. “Do not screw up. Do not give me a reason to come back here and kick your ass.”

Soren held Ford’s gaze but said nothing, almost like he didn’t have to. In the back of her mind, the remaining part of it that wasn’t freaking out, Cate wondered how a place full of dominants managed to function on a daily basis. This could be on Animal Planet. She would totally watch this show.

“I’ll be right outside,” Ford said.

It felt like an age before she heard the door close beh>
Her own breathing.
The way she moved.

It was incredibly disarming. She had to fight against it.

God, it was difficult.

“What exactly is your issue with my legal representation?” she said.

Soren didn’t move, and yet somehow the man actually seemed to be…pulsing. He was reclined in that chair, his powerful, corded arms draped across the armrests, that white shirt pulled tight over his
pecs
, his legs spread. It was wordlessly arrogant. Like he owned it. Like he owned everything.

Finally, he spoke. “There are rules against sleeping with your clients, aren’t there?”

Cate hissed.

It almost covered up the thrill that raced down her spine, across her belly, over her breasts. Almost.

His presumption was outrageous. Yes, obviously, she was attracted to him. He was probably used to that. But attraction wasn’t inevitable. She was an adult woman with agency of her own, and she’d decide whom to sleep with and when; she was
not
an inevitability, goddammit. She’d spent way too many tortured hours telling
herself
that after she’d left Jason.

So it was equally outrageous that she found herself actually considering his question. Of course there were ethical rules about screwing your clients, but they were the kind of thing no one actually cared about as long as it was between consenting adults. The only people who got called in front of the bar for things like that were scumbags who accepted payment in blowjob form.

Wait, why was she even thinking about this?

“Wow, you
are
an asshole, aren’t you?” she said.

She’d really been aiming for pure outrage, or maybe some righteous anger. Instead she found herself trying to hide the ghost of a smile. Just so sure of himself, so sure that she would, what, fall into bed with him? Like all those other women?
The
balls
on this man.

So she bit her lip instead.

Did she hear an actual growl?

“I don’t want you as my lawyer,” Soren said,
leaning forward
suddenly, his voice raw. “I want you. Just you.”

Cate stopped breathing. She stopped thinking. She stopped functioning.

Holy shit.

And then:
Get a freaking grip.

It was getting seriously difficult to stay professghtstay prional. That little declaration had hit her like a jolt from above, headed straight for her core. She hadn’t really allowed herself to think about what Soren might want, or that he’d want her in particular. The man was so overtly sexual that it wasn’t a huge surprise to consider that he’d been with many women, or that he might want many women. But there was something about the way he’d said that:
You. Just you.

It felt…personal.

She had to fight to keep her expression neutral. Somehow it seemed absolutely vital that she not show this man any more weakness than she already had.

“Maybe so,” she said, trying to hide how good that had made her feel, “but you need me as your lawyer, Soren. I don’t think you’re aware of the situation.”

He said, “You need to be my sub more than I need anything. I promise you that.”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Well, it had happened. Cate Kennedy had been left speechless.

It was like this thing that had been swirling around her head since she’d first met Soren, this thing that she’d been doing her best to ignore, suddenly crystallized. Like Soren’s words had just pulled it out of the air, made it visible, made it real.

Do I need this?

For the love of God, she’d only just met the man, and somehow the idea didn’t seem totally insane. Which was in itself completely and utterly crazy. And yet she didn’t recoil from it, the way she thought she would—BDSM, submission, kink, whatever the hell all of this was, or could be, it was something that only existed for Cate in the most private parts of her mind. It wasn’t something that she ever expected to feel in the real world, with real people, because who in their right mind would trust someone that much?

Oh God,
why
didn’t it seem crazy?

“Cate,” Soren said, his voice calm. Smooth. So damn certain.

She cleared her throat. “You don’t know Mark Cheedham.”

“I’m not worried.”

“That’s the point,” she said, shifting in her seat. She’d begun to feel uncomfortably warm, and had to remind herself that Soren was in over his head, and that her ex-husband was probably somehow involved. “You’re not worried, and you should be.”

“Even if I didn’t do anything wrong?”

Cate smiled gently. That arrogance was so hot, so infuriating, and so going to get him into trouble.

“It’s like you think everyone else is honest, too,” she said. “It’s almost kinda sweet.”

Wait. Did I just flirt with him?

Soren flashed a grin at her and then hooked his boot under her chair and swiftly pulled it towards his own, jostling her as he dragged her toward him. Cate gasped, knocked right back into the present moment by Soren’s physicality, yet again. It took her a second to realize she’d lost a shoe.

Then she felt his eyes on her, and she forgot all about…everything.

“There’s not much about me that’s sweet,” he said. And then he was up, standing over her chair, leaning down. She felt his breath on her cheek, his hands on the sides of her chair, his thumbs brushing her forearms. He was as close as he’d been when he’d picked her up outside, or when he’d crowded her at the bar, only this time,
this
time, he knew so much more. He knew her in a way no one else did,
knew
what she wanted.
That
she wanted. And he knew who she was. He knew both private and public Cate.

It paralyzed her.

“And I’m familiar with liars, Cate,” he said, his eyes roaming over her body. How could he make her feel so naked when she was fully dressed? “And so are you. I’m not one of them. No strings attached, complete honesty, total trust. And your submission.”

He took her hand.

Cate let herself really feel it for one, priceless moment. She let herself feel the warmth of him, the roughness, the crackling tension that traveled from his skin to hers, the promise of the way it would feel on her hips, her stomach,
her
breasts. The promise of the way it would feel inside her. She let herself feel what it would be like to do all of those things he’d told her about with those eyes watching her,
seeing
her, the real her.

For a second, it was amazing.

And then her brain—her obnoxious, killjoy brain—reminded her that he knew too much. Even if she didn’t tell him anything else, right now, as he looked at her—he saw too much. She could already feel herself spinning out of control, could feel the worry, the insecurity,
the
certainty that this would only be a prelude to finding some way to hurt her.

The panic closed in.

“Shit,” she said.

She snatched her hand back and looked away. Soren seemed to get it—he backed off, making sure she wasn’t trapped, and just watched her from a few feet away.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she said again, running her hand through her hair.

Soren bent down, and when he came back up he was holding out her missing shoe.

Like he knew she needed to run away.

Somewhere deep inside, this annoyed her. It more than annoyed her—it meant he had still won, in sot>

“Shit!” she said, and snatched the shoe away from him.

She had always been proud of her ability to seriously book it even while wearing stilettos, and this was the perfect time to show off that particular talent. She stalked to the door, hopping only once while she got that damn shoe on, and made a point of forcing herself to stop and turn.

Soren was leaning against Ford’s desk, arms crossed, eyes glowing,
a
smile across his face.

“This is not happening the way you think it will,” she said.

He laughed.

Cate cursed once more for good measure then practically flew out the door. She’d only made it a few steps before she ran into Ford.

“Hey, where are you going?” Ford said. Crease lines in his forehead marred his movie star face. “I thought you wanted to see the club.”

Had she said that to him? There was literally no chance she had actually said that out loud to Ford Colson. Were all Doms this sneaky?

“Nice try,” Cate said. Why was she breathless? “And I don’t know. Maybe. Not now.”

Ford smiled. Charming when he was caught. Cate was suddenly glad she’d never been attracted to him—he was probably a heartbreaker.

“Well, are you taking the case?” he said.

“No thanks to my idiot client, but yes,” she said. “Go explain it to him until he stops trying to fire me. I have research to do.”

Ford saluted. This time Cate hid her smile until she was back in her car.

“Soren, where the hell is your head at?”

Soren scowled and let his fingers dance over the guitar strings, teasing out a defiant, skittering solo as his answer. The whole band was locked away in Declan’s studio—Declan, Soren, Gage, Brian, and Eric now, too, for an added guitar—and they were supposed to be writing the new album. Actually, they had been writing the new album for a month, and they had nothing.

It just wasn’t gelling.

Soren tried not to let it get to him, but the expectations for the band’s reunion had been crazy high. Even Soren had thought that they’d get back together after working out all that

And it just wasn’t.